Dizier House was one of the largest and handsomest in the Rue Babylone,
in Paris. Nothing could be more severe, more imposing, or more
depressing than the aspect of this old mansion. Several immense windows,
filled with small squares of glass, painted a grayish white, increased
the sombre effect of the massive layers of huge stones, blackened by
time, of which the fabric was composed.
This dwelling bore a resemblance to all the others that had been erected
in the same quarter towards the middle of the last century. It was
surmounted in front by a pediment; it had an elevated ground floor,
which was reached from the outside by a circular flight of broad stone
steps. One of the fronts looked on an immense court-yard, on each side
of which an arcade led to the vast interior departments. The other front
overlooked the garden, or rather park, of twelve or fifteen roods; and,
on this side, wings, approaching the principal part of the structure,
formed a couple of lateral galleries. Like nearly all the other great
habitations of this quarter, there might be seen at the extremity of the
garden, what the owners and occupiers of each called the lesser mansion.
This extension was a Pompadour summer-house, built in the form of a
rotunda, with the charming though incorrect taste of the era of its
erection. It presented, in every part where it was possible for the
stones to be cut, a profusion of endives, knots of ribbons, garlands
of flowers, and chubby cupids. This pavilion, inhabited by Adrienne
de Cardoville was composed of a ground floor, which was reached by a
peristyle of several steps. A small vestibule led to a circular hall,
lighted from the roof. Four principal apartments met here; and ranges of
smaller rooms, concealed in the upper story, served for minor purposes.
These dependencies of great habitations are in our days disused, or
transformed into irregular conservatories; but by an uncommon exception,
the black exterior of the pavilion had been scraped and renewed, and
the entire structure repaired. The white stones of which it was built
glistened like Parian marble; and its renovated, coquettish aspect
contrasted singularly with the gloomy mansion seen at the other
extremity of an extensive lawn, on which were planted here and there
gigantic clumps of verdant trees.
The following scene occurred at this residence on the morning following
that of the arrival of Dagobert, with the daughters of Marshal Simon, in
the Rue Brise-Miche. The hour of eight had sounded from the steeple of a
neighboring church; a brilliant winter sun arose to brighten a pure blue
sky behind the tall leafless trees, which in summer formed a dome of
verdure over the summer-house. The door in the vestibule opened, and the
rays of the morning sun beamed upon a charming creature, or rather upon
two charming creatures, for the second one, though filling a modest
place in the scale of creation, was not less distinguished by beauty of
its own, which was very striking. In plain terms two individuals, one of
them a young girl, and the other a tiny English dog, of great beauty,
of that breed of spaniels called King Charles’s, made their appearance
under the peristyle of the rotunda. The name of the young girl was
Georgette; the beautiful little spaniel’s was Frisky. Georgette was in
her eighteenth year. Never had Florine or Manton, never had a lady’s
maid of Marivaux, a more mischievous face, an eye more quick, a smile
more roguish, teeth more white, cheeks more roseate, figure more
coquettish, feet smaller, or form smarter, attractive, and enticing.
Though it was yet very early, Georgette was carefully and tastefully
dressed. A tiny Valenciennes cap, with flaps and flap-band, of half
peasant fashion, decked with rose-colored ribbons, and stuck a little
backward upon bands of beautiful fair hair, surrounded her fresh and
piquant face; a robe of gray levantine, and a cambric neck-kerchief,
fastened to her bosom by a large tuft of rose-colored ribbons, displayed
her figure elegantly rounded; a hollands apron, white as snow, trimmed
below by three large hems, surmounted by a Vandyke-row, encircled her
waist, which was as round and flexible as a reed; her short, plain
sleeves, edged with bone lace, allowed her plump arms to be seen, which
her long Swedish gloves, reaching to the elbow, defended from the rigor
of the cold. When Georgette raised the bottom of her dress, in order to
descend more quickly the steps, she exhibited to Frisky’s indifferent
eyes a beautiful ankle, and the beginning of the plump calf of a fine
leg, encased in white silk, and a charming little foot, in a laced
half-boot of Turkish satin. When a blonde like Georgette sets herself
to be ensnaring; when vivid glances sparkle from her eyes of bright yet
tender blue; when a joyous excitement suffuses her transparent skin,
she is more resistless for the conquest of everything before her than a
brunette.
This bewitching and nimble lady’s-maid, who on the previous evening
had introduced Agricola to the pavilion, was first waiting woman to
the Honorable Miss Adrienne de Cardoville, niece of the Princess Saint
Dizier.
Frisky, so happily found and brought back by the blacksmith, uttered
weak but joyful barks, and bounded, ran, and frolicked upon the turf.
She was not much bigger than one’s fist; her curled hair, of lustrous
black, shone like ebony, under the broad, red satin ribbon which
encircled her neck; her paws, fringed with long silken fur, were of
a bright and fiery tan, as well as her muzzle, the nose of which was
inconceivably pug; her large eyes were full of intelligence; and her
curly ears so long that they trailed upon the ground. Georgette seemed
to be as brisk and petulant as Frisky, and shared her sportiveness,--now
scampering after the happy little spaniel, and now retreating, in order
to be pursued upon the greensward in her turn. All at once, at the sight
of a second person, who advanced with deliberate gravity, Georgette
and Frisky were suddenly stopped in their diversion. The little King
Charles, some steps in advance of Georgette, faithful to her name,
and bold as the devil, held herself firmly upon her nervous paws, and
fiercely awaited the coming up of the enemy, displaying at the same time
rows of little teeth, which, though of ivory, were none the less pointed
and sharp. The enemy consisted of a woman of mature age, accompanied by
a very fat dog, of the color of coffee and milk; his tail was twisted
like a corkscrew; he was pot-bellied; his skin was sleek; his neck was
turned little to one side; he walked with his legs inordinately spread
out, and stepped with the air of a doctor. His black muzzle, quarrelsome
and scowling showed two fangs sallying forth, and turning up from the
left side of the mouth, and altogether he had an expression singularly
forbidding and vindictive. This disagreeable animal, a perfect type of
what might be called a “church-goer’s pug,” answered to the name of “My
Lord.” His mistress, a woman of about fifty years of age, corpulent and
of middle size, was dressed in a costume as gloomy and severe as that of
Georgette was gay and showy. It consisted of a brown robe, a black silk
mantle, and a hat of the same dye. The features of this woman might
have been agreeable in her youth; and her florid cheeks, her correct
eyebrows, her black eyes, which were still very lively, scarcely
accorded with the peevish and austere physiognomy which she tried to
assume. This matron, of slow and discreet gait, was Madame Augustine
Grivois, first woman to the Princess Saint-Dizier. Not only did the age,
the face, and the dress of these two women present a striking contrast;
but the contrast extended itself even to the animals which attended
them. There were similar differences between Frisky and My Lord, as
between Georgette and Mrs. Grivois. When the latter perceived the
little King Charles, she could not restrain a movement of surprise
and repugnance, which escaped not the notice of the young lady’s maid.
Frisky, who had not retreated one inch, since the apparition of My
Lord, regarded him valiantly, with a look of defiance, and even advanced
towards him with an air so decidedly hostile, that the cur, though
thrice as big as the little King Charles, uttered a howl of distress
and terror, and sought refuge behind Mrs. Grivois, who bitterly said to
Georgette:
“It seems to me, miss, that you might dispense with exciting your dog
thus, and setting him upon mine.”
“It was doubtless for the purpose of protecting this respectable but
ugly animal from similar alarms, that you tried to make us lose Frisky
yesterday, by driving her into the street through the little garden
gate. But fortunately an honest young man found Frisky in the Rue de
Babylone, and brought her back to my mistress. However,” continued
Georgette, “to what, madame, do I owe the pleasure of seeing you this
morning?”
“I am commanded by the Princess,” replied Mrs. Grivois, unable to
conceal a smile of triumphant satisfaction, “immediately to see Miss
Adrienne. It regards a very important affair, which I am to communicate
only to herself.”
At these words Georgette became purple, and could not repress a slight
start of disquietude, which happily escaped Grivois, who was occupied
with watching over the safety of her pet, whom Frisky continued to snarl
at with a very menacing aspect; and Georgette, having quickly overcome
her temporary emotion, firmly answered: “Miss Adrienne went to rest very
late last night. She has forbidden me to enter her apartment before mid
day.”
“That is very possible: but as the present business is to obey an order
of the Princess her aunt, you will do well if you please, miss, to
awaken your mistress immediately.”
“My mistress is subject to no one’s orders in her own house; and I will
not disturb her till mid-day, in pursuance of her commands,” replied
Georgette.
“Then I shall go myself,” said Mrs. Grivois.
“Florine and Hebe will not admit you. Indeed, here is the key of the
saloon; and through the saloon only can the apartments of Miss Adrienne
be entered.”
“How! do you dare refuse me permission to execute the orders of the
Princess?”
“Yes; I dare to commit the great crime of being unwilling to awaken my
mistress!”
“Ah! such are the results of the blind affection of the Princess for her
niece,” said the matron, with affected grief: “Miss Adrienne no longer
respects her aunt’s orders; and she is surrounded by young hare-brained
persons, who, from the first dawn of morning, dress themselves out as if
for ball-going.”
“Oh, madame! how came you to revile dress, who were formerly the
greatest coquette and the most frisky and fluttering of all the
Princess’s women. At least, that is what is still spoken of you in the
hotel, as having been handed down from time out of mind, by generation
to generation, even unto ours!”
“How! from generation to generation! do you mean to insinuate that I am
a hundred years old, Miss Impertinence?”
“I speak of the generations of waiting-women; for, except you, it is the
utmost if they remain two or three years in the Princess’s house, who
has too many tempers for the poor girls!”
“I forbid you to speak thus of my mistress, whose name some people ought
not to pronounce but on their knees.”
“However,” said Georgette, “if one wished to speak ill of--”
“Do you dare!”
“No longer ago than last night, at half past eleven o’clock--”
“Last night?”
“A four-wheeler,” continued Georgette, “stopped at a few paces from the
house. A mysterious personage, wrapped up in a cloak, alighted from it,
and directly tapped, not at the door, but on the glass of the porter’s
lodge window; and at one o’clock in the morning, the cab was still
stationed in the street, waiting for the mysterious personage in
the cloak, who, doubtless, during all that time, was, as you say,
pronouncing the name of her Highness the Princess on his knees.”
Whether Mrs. Grivois had not been instructed as to a visit made to the
Princess Saint-Dizier by Rodin (for he was the man in the cloak), in the
middle of the night, after he had become certain of the arrival in
Paris of General Simon’s daughters; or whether Mrs. Grivois thought it
necessary to appear ignorant of the visit, she replied, shrugging her
shoulders disdainfully: “I know not what you, mean, madame. I have
not come here to listen to your impertinent stuff. Once again I ask
you--will you, or will you not, introduce me to the presence of Miss
Adrienne?”
“I repeat, madame, that my mistress sleeps, and that she has forbidden
me to enter her bed-chamber before mid-day.”
This conversation took place at some distance from the summer-house,
at a spot from which the peristyle could be seen at the end of a grand
avenue, terminating in trees arranged in form of a V. All at once
Mrs. Grivois, extending her hand in that direction, exclaimed: “Great
heavens! is it possible? what have I seen?”
“What have you seen?” said Georgette, turning round.
“What have I seen?” repeated Mrs. Grivois, with amazement.
“Yes: what was it?”
“Miss Adrienne.”
“Where?” asked Georgette.
“I saw her run up the porch steps. I perfectly recognized her by her
gait, by her hat, and by her mantle. To come home at eight o’clock in
the morning!” cried Mrs. Grivois: “it is perfectly incredible!”
“See my lady? Why, you came to see her!” and Georgette burst out into
fits of laughter: and then said: “Oh! I understand! you wish to out-do
my story of the four-wheeler last night! It is very neat of you!”
“I repeat,” said Mrs. Grivois, “that I have this moment seen--”
“Oh! adone, Mrs. Grivois: if you speak seriously, you are mad!”
“I am mad, am I? because I have a pair of good eyes! The little gate
that open’s on the street lets one into the quincunx near the pavilion.
It is by that door, doubtless, that mademoiselle has re-entered.
Oh, what shameful conduct! what will the Princess say to it! Ah!
her presentiments have not yet been mistaken. See to what her weak
indulgence of her niece’s caprices has led her! It is monstrous!--so
monstrous, that, though I have seen her with my own eyes, still I can
scarcely believe it!”
“Since you’ve gone so far, ma’am, I now insist upon conducting you into
the apartment of my lady, in order that you may convince yourself, by
your own senses, that your eyes have deceived you!”
“Oh, you are very cunning, my dear, but not more cunning than I! You
propose my going now! Yes, yes, I believe you: you are certain that by
this time I shall find her in her apartment!”
“But, madame, I assure you--”
“All that I can say to you is this: that neither you, nor Florine, nor
Hebe, shall remain here twenty-four hours. The Princess will put an end
to this horrible scandal; for I shall immediately inform her of what
has passed. To go out in the night! Re-enter at eight o’clock in the
morning! Why, I am all in a whirl! Certainly, if I had not seen it with
my own eyes, I could not have believed it! Still, it is only what was to
be expected. It will astonish nobody. Assuredly not! All those to whom I
am going to relate it, will say, I am quite sure, that it is not at all
astonishing! Oh! what a blow to our respectable Princess! What a blow
for her!”
Mrs. Grivois returned precipitately towards the mansion, followed by her
fat pug, who appeared to be as embittered as herself.
Georgette, active and light, ran, on her part, towards the pavilion, in
order to apprise Miss de Cardoville that Mrs. Grivois had seen her, or
fancied she had seen her, furtively enter by the little garden gate.