THOU ART FAITHFUL AND SO ARE MY BEES.
"I am going to be your little pupil, grandpère," said Margot, raising
her beautiful eyes to the old man's face.
"Eh, what," he exclaimed, "eh, what? I thought you were at the school
of Madame la Princesse."
"I don't like that school, _mon cher_ grandpère. I don't like the girls
there. I want you to teach me, yes, you! You can, you know, you know an
awful lot."
"I don't know anything, little fledgling," answered grandpère. "What I
did learn, I have forgotten. I am an old man on the brink of eternity.
It is not given to me to teach even one so _douce_ as thou, _mon ange_."
"But can we not read poetry together?" said Margot. "I know you are
terribly old, grandpère; you are much--much older than The Desmond.
Oh, but The Desmond he is _magnifique_--so big--so tall--so broad, his
beard long and white as the snow! And his hair white as the snow! But
his eyes are somewhat like yours, grandpère, only they don't go in so
deep in his head. Yes, thou art old, _mon_ grandpère, but still thou
canst teach thy little Margot. One hour a day; say it is done!"
"But what shall I teach, my pretty?"
"How to talk the beautiful French tongue like thyself. Surely that will
not be _difficile_. It will be to thee nothing, thou learned man; _très
bien_--ah, but I cannot say all the words I want! But _thou_ canst do
it, mon grandpère!"
"Only for one hour a day, my Margot. But listen! understand! believe!
We must not stay any longer than one hour over the French, _si belle_,
for it would fatigue the old man."
"After that I will teach thee the Irish language," said Margot, her
eyes sparkling. "I will teach thee, and thou wilt laugh--oh, how thou
wilt laugh!"
"Thou art a _très bonne petite enfant_," said the old man. "I like to
have thee near me, close to my side. For one hour each day, from two to
three, we will talk that language the most elegant in the wide world,
and after that I will lie back on my pillows of down and thou shalt
tell me things to make me laugh, and laugh again, _ma petite_."
It was in this way that Margot's new life began. It was a very
busy one and on the whole happy. She was glad to leave the school
of la Princesse, and she greatly liked selling chapeaux and robes
for her _belle_ grand'mère la Comtesse. She was particularly happy
when members of the school of la Princesse de Fleury entered the
_établissement_, looked longingly at the pretty, clever child, and she
had the opportunity of giving them as she expressed it "_the back_."
She had great pride, had this little Comtesse, and when she swept past
Lady Dorothy Duncan and even the other English girls who had tried to
befriend her, she enjoyed herself immensely. She had become in fact a
sort of power in the _établissement_ and never did the francs come in
so quickly and the robes and the chapeaux and the fans and the _gants_
fly so fast.
She had a knack of picking out elderly, rich-looking people and
dressing them according to her own taste. Meanwhile she passed utterly
by the inmates of the great school and the other aristocrats, of whom
she took no notice whatsoever. The people whom little Margot attended
to were _bourgeoise_ but they were rich, and Margot was clever enough
to charge them according to their means. In short, things were going so
well, that Madame _la belle_ grand'mère felt it only her duty to give
the child the very best music lessons which Arles could produce.
The afternoons were sacred to _mon_ grandpère, and in short the little
incident in connection with the school was well-nigh forgotten. Oh,
what a very happy girl was Margot St. Juste! But she little knew that a
cloud was arising in the blue of her sky and that she was not to escape
scot free.
Hébé Duncan was really engaged to a young nobleman of great
distinction. The marriage was to take place within a very short time.
She had an aunt who lived some distance from Arles who would supply
her with that _dot_ which the Marquis could not possibly raise, and
this aunt came constantly to Arles to see about her niece's robes and
chapeaux for _le mariage_. The fame, the taste of the small dark-eyed
Comtesse had reached the ears of Madame Derode and she was determined
that the little Comtesse and no one else should assist in the choosing
of the marriage garments for young Lady Hébé Duncan. But it is one
thing for man to propose and another thing for God to dispose. The
little Comtesse was exceedingly busy that morning turning a fat,
ill-made Frenchwoman of the farmer class into an elegant lady.
She was choosing the right robes, the right chapeaux, she was--with a
skill all her own--softening the tints of Madame Vollot. Madame Vollot
hardly knew herself in her chapeaux and her robes. She stood in the
centre of the largest salon, the admired of all beholders. A group of
young girls surrounded her while _la petite_ Comtesse gave her orders
in a firm and resolute voice.
"You must wear this green, so dark," she said. "_Tiens_, and here
are the very chapeaux for you! Hesitate not, Madame Vollot! You will
look--oh, of the most charming!"
A little way to the right stood Madame Derode, the Lady Hébé Duncan,
and Dorothy, her sister. _La petite_ Comtesse kept her back to the
group. She was absorbed with Madame Vollot. Just then Madame Marcelle
came up and whispered some words to the little Comtesse.
The little Comtesse shook her pretty head.
"_Non, non_," she said, "it cannot be. I have all my time occupied to
the moment. They have offended me and I will not serve them now. See,
behold, when I have done with this _chère Madame_, there are others who
are waiting for me. I cannot give any advice at all to the Ladies Hébé
and Dorothy. You must attend them yourself, Madame Marcelle."
Madame Marcelle did her best, but the deed was done. Dorothy and Hébé,
accompanied by their aunt, left the _établissement_ with their heads in
the air and a very significant expression on their faces.
"Behold, I had my way," said little Margot with a smile, and she went
on giving all her skill and knowledge to the wives of the different
farmers, who were so rich and could pay so well. But when they got into
the street, Hébé said a word to her aunt, Madame Derode.
"I have suffered an insult," said Hébé, "and I wish to repay it."
"An insult, my dear child!" said Madame. "What do you mean? Who would
dare to insult a bride-elect? Ah, me, I know life and I know men, also.
For thee is perfect happiness, my little Hébé."
"Nevertheless I have suffered an insult," said Hébé Duncan. "Did you
not observe that ugly little girl, who gave herself such airs and who
only attended to the farmer folk?"
"You cannot allude to _la petite_ Comtesse?" said Madame Derode. "Why
she is a most beautiful, very young girl!"
"Nevertheless she has insulted me," said Hébé. "We have plenty of time.
We will not take over long on this business. Aunt Matilda, I want to
drive to the Château St. Juste."
"Ah, but certainly," said Madame Derode. "Do you know the Comte, Hébé?
He is a very proud old man; he makes but few acquaintances."
"I shall get to know him," said Hébé.
"And I," exclaimed Dorothy.
"Well, have it your own way, my sweet pets. But I hear that he is of
the most delicate. We will not detain him long."
"Not long," said Hébé, blushing and laughing.
They arrived in a very few minutes at the château, which was in
exquisite order. Everything new and fresh and, according to Madame
Derode, perfectly lovely, for she was the sort of woman who liked
whiteness and spotlessness and everything in perfect present-day taste.
Her own château was neat, but not to compare with this. She gave a
quick sigh under her breath, but her nieces were too much occupied with
their own affairs to observe it.
Now it so happened that always in the morning le Comte St. Juste took
what he called his airing. He went out leaning on the arm of his
_garçon_, a young man dressed in the ancient livery of the St. Justes.
He leant heavily on the _garçon's_ arm and went invariably in one
direction, and that was first to examine the thriving rows of beehives
and second the peaches, which were ripening to a lovely golden red on
the high brick wall. The Comte St. Juste used to count the peaches and
rejoice in their fragrance. He was a happy old man--very happy since he
had married his Ninon. It mattered little to him if she had once kept
a shop. She kept one no longer. He could not have married her if that
was the case. They lived oh, so happily on the rich _dot_ which she
had brought with her. She was one in ten thousand, his pretty Ninon, so
young, so gay, and of the taste the most perfect.
It therefore so happened that when the three ladies drove up in their
automobile to the Château St. Juste, they only found Madame la Comtesse
standing on the front steps and giving directions to one of her
numerous gardeners.
Madame Derode got out of her car and, introduced herself and her nieces.
"Ah, but I am in ecstasies to know you, Madame," said the Comtesse,
"but if you do indeed seek my Alphonse, you cannot see him now. He is
at this present moment resting on his couch of down and must not be
disturbed."
"I know him by appearance," said Lady Dorothy, "and he is not on his
couch of down. He is in the garden yonder; behold, he is talking to a
_garçon_! I go to tell him, to tell him the truth. I will not stand the
sins of your little granddaughter, Madame la Comtesse. She serves in
your _magasin_, and her rudeness is unthinkable. I go to report to M.
le Comte the wicked ways of that ugly child."
"But--but--I entreat you to stop!" cried the anguished voice of the
little Comtesse. "He knows nothing--nothing at all--oh, it will kill
him, and he with the pride of all the St. Justes in his veins. He
knows not of the _établissement_. _Le petit bébé_ and I, we keep it
from him as a secret the most profound. Do not be so cruel as to injure
him, _chère_ Mademoiselle! You go to the school of my friend, Madame le
Fleury. I recognize your _bijou_ charming face."
"I will have my revenge," said Dorothy. "I mind not at all the age of
that stupid old man. I see him and I will go."
"Dorothy, don't--Dorothy, I command thee not to go," said Madame
Derode, but Dorothy cared very little indeed for any such command. She
had light and agile feet and before the unhappy little Comtesse could
prevent her, had rushed into the garden where the peaches and the bees
were, dropped a low curtsey to M. le Comte and then said in a hurried
tone,
"M'sieur speaks the tongue of England. I am an English girl. My name
is Dorothy Duncan. I am at the school of la Princesse de Fleury. _La
petite_ Comtesse no longer goes to that school."
The old Comte managed to hold himself very erect. He fixed his eyes on
the pale blue eyes of the English girl.
"Will you have a peach?" he said.
"No, I want not your peaches, M. le Comte. But, listen, behold, I want
to tell the very truth. _La petite_ was practically expelled from our
school. We would have nothing to do with her. Think, M. le Comte,
would it be likely? She attends in a shop."
"In a--in a----" began the old Comte.
"In the shop of the present Comtesse. It is now known as the
_établissement_ of Madame Marcelle and _la petite_ Comtesse goes there
every day of her life to sell ugly, common things to the wives of
farmers. The shop belongs to La Comtesse and she dreads that you should
know. Ah, but what a buzzing," continued Dorothy at the end of her
sentence. There were innumerable voices; there was the angry tone of
Hébé confirming her sister's words; there was Madame Derode in tears,
for she could not hear to afflict the aged; and there was the Comtesse,
white as a sheet, bending over "_mon adorable_ Alphonse," who had sunk
slowly but surely to the ground in a state of complete unconsciousness.
Dorothy stood at his back, a little frightened at her own words,
and then she uttered a scream and a shriek, for the celebrated bees
of M. le Comte St. Juste were surrounding her. They were getting
into her hair, they were stinging her neck, her arms, even her lips
and her eyes. She could not get away from them. The old man heard
nothing--nothing at all, and Dorothy rushed out of the garden extremely
sorry for her mean little revenge.
She was immediately followed by Lady Hébé and Madame Derode. No one
had been stung but Dorothy and she could do nothing but cry out at her
pain. Madame Derode called her a child of the most _méchantes_--of
revenge the most puerile. She said the bees had but done their duty and
when she dropped Dorothy at her school, she said that someone who could
remove the stings had better be sent for, but that _hélas_, for the
rest, she pitied not at all _la pauvre chatte_!
After some difficulty, the unconscious Comte was brought into the
house. He was feeling particularly weak and the abrupt sayings of
Dorothy caused his heart to stop and then to bound again and then there
came a dizziness and a darkness over him and he knew no more.
But when he came to himself on his couch of down and the doctor was
bending over him and Ninon was weeping tears on his face, he dimly
recalled what had passed. The doctor administered a restorative and
then went to another room with Madame la Comtesse.
"Someone has given _le bon mari_ a profound shock," he remarked.
"It is true; it is quite true," said the Comtesse. "Oh, Dr. Jacqueline,
I must confide in you. Listen and you will know all. Before I met my
beloved husband, I was the well-known Ninon Lecoles and there was not
an _établissement_ like mine in the whole of Arles, but behold! I met
the old man, so gracious, so lonely, so neglected, and I exercised upon
him a little piece of what the English would call the deceit. I told
him of my wealth and he offered me his hand but only on condition that
I would give up the _établissement_ which brought me in the francs
in such multitudes. Monsieur, I pretended to agree, but oh, la! la!
how could I give up my beautiful _établissement_; how could I keep
this château as it is now and give _mon_ Alphonse his comforts? So I
changed the name of the _établissement_ and called it no longer that
of Ninon Lecoles, but the establishment unique of Madame Marcelle.
But it was mine--mine all the time, kind _M. le docteur_. How could I
keep this place going without it? And then when _la petite_ Comtesse
came, she proved to have the gift _extraordinaire_, and she worked in
my _établissement_ and does work there every day and she brings in the
francs as they never came before. But we decided to keep the knowledge
from the old man because he is weak and feeble. Ah, _M. le docteur_,
what am I to do? If I give up my _établissement_, the death of _mon_
Alphonse will assuredly lie at my door and yet, if I keep it--Oh,
doctor, counsel a wretched woman!"
"You must keep the _établissement, sans doute_. _Votre mari_ has had a
shock but he will not die. That girl was mean who told him, but I have
just been removing the stings of bees from her and she will be much
swollen and distressed for some days. There is no doubt whatever that
she has got her punishment. Ah, and here comes _la petite_ Comtesse!"
The little Comtesse stared in some astonishment at the doctor's
motor-car, at _la belle_ grand'mère's tearful face and at the confusion
which seemed to surround the hitherto peaceful place.
"Oh, grand'mère," she exclaimed. "I have sold three thousand francs
worth of goods for thee this morning. _Oui, très vrai_, with my own
skill I did it! I would not look at Lady Hébé nor at Lady Dorothy, the
ugly stuck-up things that they are. But I attended to the wives of the
farmers and they paid cash down, grand'mère, and they are going to
Paris all three of them in their new chapeaux and robes and fans. Ah,
but I made the stout one look slim and the slim one a little _grosse,
n'est ce pas_? And the whole of them elegant. And Dorothy and Hébé were
fluttering round waiting for my judgment, but grand'mère, I gave it
not. I would not speak to them; they offended me. I gave them my back,
grand'mère."
"But thou hast injured thy grandpère," said the poor little Comtesse.
"That Dorothy is wicked, and has had her revenge. She found _mon_
Alphonse in the garden with the peaches and the bees, and she told him
all about thee, _ma petite_. He fell in a swoon, his horror was great,
but the _chères abeilles_ have stung her well."
"And thou art weeping when I have made three thousand francs for thee,"
said little Margot. "I will go straight to grandpère and set him right."
"Let the little one have her way, she has the genius," said the doctor.
"You keep away, grand'mère; let me go alone to _mon_ grandpère," said
Margot. And she ran in the direction of the _salon_ with the couch of
down.
Margot had a very gentle way of speaking, few things put her seriously
out, and she was more pleased than otherwise at grandpère learning the
truth. He was lying very still on his sofa; his face was white and a
tear or two trickled down his withered cheeks.
"Thou art not like The Desmond, grandpère," said little Margot. "The
Desmond would not mind anything so trifling as a shop."
"Ah, _ma petite, ma petite_," exclaimed the old Comte, and now he burst
into floods of tears.
Margot knelt by him and wiped his tears away very gently.
"That flow of tears will give thee relief," she said. "Thou wilt be
better, ah, better! Let me arrange _pour vous_, grandpère. I like
putting the mighty from their seats. Oh, grandpère, I have such a
beautiful story to tell thee!"
The old man ceased crying, and looked at the little Comtesse with
wondering eyes.
"Perhaps it is a lie," he said.
"Of course," said Margot, "there is a shop--but it is not _thy_ shop.
It belongs to Madame Marcelle."
"And not to my Ninon--oh, thank the God Almighty!"
"I help Madame Marcelle a little while I am learning of the French
tongue, _si belle_--that is all. Thou wilt not forbid it. Thy Ninon,
_ma belle_ grand'mère, is crying her eyes out at the thought of
hurting thee, but it was done by those wicked girls. Behold I was
in the _établissement_, and I have got--ah, the taste _magnifique!_
and the farmers' wives--some very red, some very thin, came in to be
suited with robes. Ah, but they were of the most superb that I did
show them, and I suited the taste of each. I made the fat, red one to
look thin and pale and elegant, ah _oui_, and the thin one I gave her
a good figure and I chose chapeaux the most suitable. And I put into
the pocket of Madame Marcelle three thousand francs this morning. For
they are rich, these wives of farmers, and they pay as they go. But
Dorothy, _la petite chatte_, and Hébé, they came in and they wanted me
to leave my farmers' wives and attend to them. They meant, doubtless,
grandpère, to run up a long bill and keep it going--going--going, so I
said I would have nothing to do with them because I love them not and
I do love the wives of the farmers. Then they were angry and they came
here to see thee, _mon_ grandpère, and behold, Dorothy, she was stung
by thy bees. It served her right, didn't it, grandpère?"
"Was she stung?" said grandpère. "I offered her a peach, which she
deserved not. I did not know that she was stung. _Mon enfant_, thou art
faithful and so are _mes chères abeilles_."
"And thou wilt see thy Ninon who weeps outside?" said Margot.
"Of a verity I will see my Ninon. What care I how many _établissements_
Madame Marcelle keeps?"