BETWEEN THE ACTS.--BOX NUMBER VII
This box, as we have said already, was occupied by M. de Brévannes and
his wife.
He had recognised Paula Monti in the Princess de Hansfeld.
Fortunately Bertha's attention was occupied, else the marked alteration
in her husband's features could not have escaped her. In spite of the
iron temper of his disposition, M. de Brévannes was, in spite of
himself, much agitated, and compelled to lean against the side of the
box for support, as he felt the mad passion with which Paula Monti had
inspired him again awaken in his bosom with increased violence.
He saw once again this woman more lovely than ever, admired by all the
men, envied by all the women, and in a most elevated social position.
And she could now exact from him a terrible account of the blood which
he had shed, of the infamous means which he had employed to give a
colourable appearance to his cowardly calumnies.
Fearing the pursuit of justice, which might be directed against him
after his duel with Raphael (in which the latter fell), De Brévannes
had quitted Florence precipitately. Since then he had sought to amuse
himself by guilty intrigues, in order to forget his unworthy conduct and
invincible passion, which, in spite of himself, still held such dominion
over him.
His ill humour, his coarseness, his severity towards Bertha, had no
other source than his feeling of the past which he could not drive from
his memory.
What would then become of him when he found himself face to face with
Madame de Hansfeld, and should be recognised by her, for the looks of
the princess, at first attracted by the _sobieska_ of Madame Girard,
were thence removed to M. de Brévannes at the very instant when, having
discovered in her Paula Monti, he was looking at her with amazement.
He saw her shudder, lift her hands suddenly to her eyes, and then become
again perfectly impassive.
* * * * *
Bertha had been deeply interested, going rarely to the theatre, she
preserved all her feelings youthful and fresh. Entirely absorbed in the
plot of the comedy, nay indifferent to what was going on in the various
boxes and stalls, the commencement of the second act of _The Seducer_
completely fascinated her attention.
The second act was, perhaps, even more successful than the first. De
Gercourt's friends began to get impatient at this lucky chance, and one
of the most intimate said:--
"Now I am quite easy; if the piece should fail in spite of the talent
displayed in those two acts, poor Gercourt will be quite innocent of the
failure. I say this now without knowing what may occur--so much the
better or the worse for him. Gercourt is not the author of this play —
it is not in his vein at all."
During this pause between the acts we will conduct our reader into
Madame de Hansfeld's box.
Madame de Lormoy, who accompanied her, was a woman of nearly fifty, and
a high-bred lady in every sense of the word.
And now a few words of the Prince de Hansfeld, to whom the reader has
already been introduced in the gallery of the Hôtel Lambert.
M. de Hansfeld, who was seated so far back in his box that none of the
audience could see him, was of middle height, thin and slender, about
twenty-two or twenty-three years of age. His features were extremely
delicate, his hair chestnut, very little moustache and beard, but fine
and silky of a light brown hue, which harmonised admirably with the
transparent paleness of his complexion. His eyes were very large and
soft, and of a blue so bright that, in spite of the half obscurity of
his box, the clear glance of Arnold was distinguishable, the light
seeming not to be reflected upon, but to dart through them, giving them
the blue brightness of a sapphire.
His smile was full of benignity, intelligence, and grace; there was only
lacking to this interesting countenance the warm colouring of life and
health, just as flowers which vegetate in the shade, and are denied the
salutary beams of the sun, lose the brilliancy of their hues, and assume
the pale tints of extreme delicacy; so had Arnold's features something
languishing and pining in their expression.
During some minutes he remained in the deepest reflection.
When Madame de Lormoy had pointed out to the princess the ridiculous
_coiffure_ of Madame Girard, M. de Hansfeld, whilst turning his eyes
mechanically in that direction, had remained for some time contemplating
Bertha.
Madame de Brévannes' beauty was not dazzling, but her sweet and lovely
countenance had such a touching expression of melancholy, that Arnold
felt quite interested. At the moment of the _entr'acte_, Bertha, by an
involuntary return to her own and her father's position--too proud to
accept henceforth the least assistance from M. de Brévannes, and too
poor to live without aid,--Bertha, being no longer attracted by the
interest of the performance, gave way to the melancholy of her
reflections, and, with her figure slightly bent, her head inclined
towards her bosom, was mechanically moving a bouquet of red camelia,
which she held in her hand, as she seemed bowed beneath the weight of
some silent sorrow.
M. de Hansfeld felt himself attracted towards this young female by the
mysterious and powerful sympathy of suffering. He was almost grateful to
her for being, like himself, a stranger to the noise, stir, and joyous
bustle of this brilliant audience, and, wishing to judge if Bertha's
features corresponded with the favourable impression she created, he
raised his lorgnette.
At this moment Madame de Lormoy turned towards him:--
"Well, prince, how do you find yourself?"
"I thank you, madame!" replied the prince in French, and without any
foreign accent, but in a low, faint voice, "I feel very well."
"Perhaps the light hurts you a little, dear?" said the princess to her
husband.
"Rather, but I must get accustomed to it,--I am about to become such a
gay fellow!" he added, with a smile.
"Well, then, prince," continued Madame de Lormoy, "there is nothing like
stirring about as a remedy for nervous complaints. I only advise you to
try the most agreeable recreation, and Madame de Hansfeld is with you."
"It is she, on the contrary, who requires recreation," said the prince,
kindly; "but I have much trouble in inducing her to go into society now
and then."
"Alas! prince, my nephew, De Morville, is just the same, and I am always
scolding him; my poor sister, his mother, has been an invalid so long,
and he has nursed her so affectionately, that he really quite keeps away
from the world. _Dieu merci!_ She is getting better now, but my nephew
still insists on his absurd retirement. He has become whimsical and
capricious, and I have been obliged to make his excuses to you, my dear
princess, for, after having asked me the favour of being presented to
you, his savage taste has resumed its ascendancy, and he has made the
excuse of his retirement from the world to renounce a favour at first so
eagerly requested."
Madame de Hansfeld remained quite unmoved by this allusion to De
Morville, whom she had for some time seen in the orchestra stalls, and
replied with a smile,--
"I have heard this singularity of M. de Morville accounted for in a very
romantic manner--allusions to an affair of the heart very deeply
seated--a fidelity which does not belong to our times."
"And I believe with truth. Aunts ought always to feign ignorance of
these lovers' weaknesses, and but for that I should boast of the heroic
constancy of my nephew. Ah! there he is!--in the stalls!" said Madame de
Lormoy who had discovered De Morville.
"Monsieur de Fierval, since Léon will not see me, have the kindness to
go to him, and say I am here--this time he shall not escape us."
M. de Fierval, who had been paying his respects to Madame de Lormoy and
the princess, instantly quitted the box in obedience to the request of
De Morville's aunt.
"But really, madame," said Madame de Hansfeld, with a laugh, when De
Fierval had left the box, "I should be quite vexed to catch M. de
Morville in a net of this sort, and thus surprise him into an
introduction which he may desire to avoid."
"My dear princess, if he has his whims, I have mine; and amongst others,
that of being proud of my nephew, and his greatest success would be to
acquire your good opinion."
"I have no right to repeat it to any person so nearly connected with you
as M. de Morville, only I regret that good opinion should not have
the value which you are so kind as to attribute to it."
"Allow me to say that on this point you completely deceive
yourself.--But," added Madame de Lormoy, "I most decidedly denounce M.
de Hansfeld to you. He appears to me entirely absorbed with Madame
Girard's _sobieska_, and cannot take his eyes off her, unless, indeed,
it is that pretty Madame de Brévannes whom M. de Fierval has just named
to us."
"And who is really very charming," said the princess, directing her
_lorgnette_ with the utmost intrepidity into the box of Brévannes.
M. de Hansfeld did not hear, or pretended not to bear, his wife, and
kept his glass fixed on Bertha.
"But," continued Madame de Lormoy, "do you know, princess, that I very
much admire M. de Brévannes? From what M. de Fierval told us, he must
have evinced great delicacy and generosity in his marriage with a poor
girl; and this is so seldom witnessed in our days. After such conduct,
it seems to me that people are hardly able to form their opinion of a
man's worth. Don't you think so?"
"With your elevated opinions, you must think highly of M. de Brévannes,
or rather of his noble disinterestedness, his admirable behaviour, since
he has not the honour of an acquaintance with you. Madame de Brévannes
is so lovely," said the princess, without betraying any emotion; "she
appears so well bred, that the _sacrifice_ of M. de Brévannes appears
to me simply _very great good fortune_."
"In this you are quite right; but when I look at the marked and almost
harsh features of M. de Brévannes I should never have thought him
capable of such a feeling of the tender passion. What is your opinion,
princess:
"Countenances are sometimes so deceitful," replied Paula, whose
composure did not forsake her.
At this moment M. de Fierval came into the box.
"What! alone?" said Madame de Lormoy; "and Léon?"
"He has desired me, madame, to express to you his extreme regret; but
after having dined at the club, he smoked a cigar, and----"
"I understand. He knows my abhorrence of the abominable odour of
tobacco. I only hope that what he has lost by his filthy habit, just
like a soldier in a barrack, may be profitable to him when he remembers
how he lost it. Again, my dear princess, I hope for his pardon, and
express my regret to you."
"We are all losers, madame," was the princess's reply.
It was plain that De Morville's excuse for not going to his aunt was the
result of his resolution to avoid a meeting with the princess.
"What do they say of the piece?" asked Madame de Lormoy of M. de
Fierval.
"They did not expect such signal success; and Gercourt's _friends_ are
really in consternation!
"Shameful! but so much the better; it is right that envious people
should feel the pain of their hateful desires. I wish M. de Gercourt's
success was twice as disagreeable to them as it is already."
"Is M. de Gercourt one of your friends, madame?" inquired Madame de
Hansfeld.
"Is he?--indeed he is, and one of my best. When he returned from his
travels before the revolution of July, he entered the world under my
patronage and that of the Duchesse de Bellecourt; and I can assure you
we were very proud of introducing M. de Gercourt into society. He was a
charming young man; and although quite young, soon became very much the
fashion:--with a large fortune, a good name, a handsome person, and most
gentlemanly manners, he had only to desire to please, and he did please;
and because, after he had enjoyed, as a young man, all the pleasures of
his age and position, he now seeks more elevated enjoyments, more
serious occupations, every body says malicious things of him. It is
really a shame and a pity. Why are not fools as indulgent to the merit
of another as they are for their own nonentity? It is all that is
required of them."
"It is well to be one of your friends, madame," said Paula, smiling at
the excitement with which Madame de Lormoy had said these words.
"Assuredly," said M. de Fierval; "and I regret that I think with Madame
de Lormoy of Gercourt, as else I might have had the pleasure of being
converted by her."
"Oh! I do not pretend to convert anybody, but to say unreservedly my
opinion of malicious and jealous persons. That is an old woman's
privilege, and I avail myself of it, as I have a right to do. Have I
not, prince?--But, heavens! what's the matter?--How pale you are!"
And, indeed, M. de Hansfeld was leaning his head against the panel of
the box, and seemed at the moment extremely ill.
"Princess, your smelling bottle!" exclaimed Madame de Lormoy.
Madame de Hansfeld rose half up from her seat. Her husband repulsed her
with terror, saying in an alarmed voice, "No,--no; not that smelling
bottle!" and the prince fainted.
Despite her husband's habitual impassiveness, Madame de Hansfeld could
not help a shudder and a frown of her black eyebrows at the frightened
gesture of the prince when she presented her _flacon_ to him; but
neither Madame de Lormoy nor M. de Fierval, who were occupied with the
prince, observed her emotion.
The indisposition of the prince occurred between the acts, and several
persons came to help to convey the prince to his carriage; and amongst
the inquisitives was M. Girard, whom his wife had despatched to
ascertain what effect her _sobieska_ had occasioned in the public mind.
M. Girard took very good care not to make a single inquiry on this
subject, resolving to tell his spouse that her dashing _casquette_ had
excited the utmost admiration. He returned hastily to the box to inform
her of the prince's fainting fit. He had scarcely opened the door, and
said to Madame Girard, "My love----," than she, without allowing him to
add another word, exclaimed,--
"Run as fast as you can to see what is the matter with the Prince de
Hansfeld: they have carried him out, I understand, into the lobby in
front of us."
"But, my dearest----"
"Go quick, I tell you----"
"But, my life, I have come to----"
"Go, I say, Timoléon."
"I beg of you to hear me----."
"Oh!--how tiresome you are! Pray, go as quickly as you can."
"Why, I came in fact to tell you----"
"That is not what I want to hear, it is about the prince. So once more
go."
"But, my dearest love, I have come to tell you the very thing you desire
to know," exclaimed M. Girard, with intense volubility.
"Oh! that's quite another thing. Come in and shut the door, and tell us
all about it as quick as you can."
"My love, you really will not give me time; and I----"
"Pray speak--do speak."
"Did the prince quite lose his consciousness?" inquired Bertha, with
interest.
"Of course the princess has gone away with him?" said De Brévannes.
"Did they give him immediate assistance?" continued Madame Girard.
"Timoléon, why don't you speak, and not stand there like a great _clod_,
not opening your mouth?"
"Why, I really cannot answer so many questions at once. From what I
could gather in the crowd, some said the prince was just recovering from
a very long illness, and the heat of the house had quite overcome him;
others declared that it was another attack of lunacy which had come over
him, although they had thought him completely cured; and there were
others besides, who asserted that it was violent and sudden emotion
which had caused his fainting."
"Poor prince!--So young, and such a sufferer!" said Bertha to De
Brévannes, with sympathy of tone. "All, even to his maladies, is a
mystery!"
"Ah! my dear Madame de Brévannes, how very interesting, isn't it?"
cried Madame de Girard, with excitement. "What a pity we could not see
him, for he was so completely concealed at the back of the box that we
could not distinguish his features!"
"I confess," said Bertha, "that I should have liked to have seen his
face."
M. de Brévannes frowned as he looked scrutinisingly in Bertha's face at
the moment when she had manifested her interest for M. de Hansfeld, and
awaited with some uneasiness the reply of Madame Girard, who added in a
sentimental tone, "Admitting that the prince is as young, as handsome
and interesting as he is, it is thus one would choose the fancied one,
if we were young girls and mistress of his heart. Don't you think so,
Madame de Brévannes?"
"But, my love, I do not think I ever cross your inclination, and I----"
"Really, Timoléon, I hope you have never had the pretension to be a
'fancied one,' an ideal being?"
"I have no pretension to be an ideal being, my dear; but----"
"Silence! the curtain is going up."
M. Girard was silent.
Bertha and Madame Girard again lent all their attention to the last act
of the comedy; and De Brévannes, whose features grew darker and darker,
cast, from time to time, strange looks on his wife; his absurd jealousy
was alarmed at the interest which Bertha had shewn when speaking of the
sufferings of the prince, whose features she had not even seen.