A CONVERSATION
But little accustomed to her husband's attentions, Bertha was doubly
surprised at receiving this gift of flowers, coming as it did after the
scene of the preceding night, in which M. de Brévannes had exhibited a
more than ordinary brutality.
Nor was she less astonished at the air of gentleness and contrition he
thought proper to assume. She was, however, totally unable to assign any
other cause for it than real regret for the past, and, as such, received
with all simplicity and kindness the amiable expression which, for the
time being, softened the usually harsh features of M. de Brévannes.
Although she had done her utmost to avoid going to the Hôtel Lambert,
in the dread of meeting M. de Hansfeld there, yet the heart of Bertha
reproached her with having concealed from her husband the interviews
that had already taken place between herself and Arnold at the house of
her father, and each kind or conciliating word or look on the part of M.
de Brévannes appeared to aggravate her guilt and exaggerate his merits.
It was, therefore, with a confused and fluttered manner she thanked him
for the flowers he had sent her.
"You are too good, Charles," said she; "you are, indeed! You positively
spoil me! The bouquet was magnificent, and the camelias really splendid!
too much so, indeed, for me!"
"You say rightly, my love, you require no ornament to render you
irresistibly charming! Still I could not deny myself the pleasure of
sending you those needless, useless helps to ordinary beauty; but I am
delighted the flowers pleased you, and that so small an attention on my
part has been deemed worthy of notice by you. Alas! I have but too many
faults to atone for!"
"Nay, Charles!"
"Stop me not--for I must speak. Was I not only yesterday cruel and
unkind? did I not do all in my power to make you hate and detest me? But
husbands are a sad set--there is no denying it."
"I assure you, Charles, I had entirely forgotten all that had occurred."
"Because your good and generous nature is incapable of feeling ill-will
towards any one. Truly there are times when I seriously ask myself how I
have been able so long to undervalue so many rare and precious qualities
as are contained within your breast."
"Charles, you pain me. I beseech you----"
"No, I say again, I cannot tell where could have been my judgment, my
discrimination. Yet that accounts, too, for the almost blind confidence
I have ever reposed in you, always excepting those foolish, groundless
fits of jealousy which have from time to time ruffled my repose; and you
can scarcely believe how greatly our yesterday's conversation has
increased the confidence I previously entertained."
"Charles!"
"At first, I will candidly confess, the candour with which you stated
your fears did render me somewhat uneasy, but, upon subsequent
reflection, I found in all you had said the most satisfactory assurances
of your future truth and honour, as well as a fresh proof of the
exemplary good principle which regulates your every action."
"I entreat of you," said Bertha, with a degree of confusion, which did
not escape the searching eye of her husband, "I entreat of you not to
allude further to so painful a subject."
"On the contrary, let it be my punishment to speak much and constantly
of a scene in which I confess I acted like a fool and a brute,--like an
idiot. I was offended with your candour and perfect ingenuousness: why
should not modesty be as regular an accompaniment to honour as it is to
talent? Suppose I had requested you to sing before a numerous audience,
would you have said, willingly, for I feel assured of acquitting myself
admirably? Oh, no, on the contrary, you would have expressed all manner
of fears; and yet it is no flattery to say your talents are unrivalled.
Now in the same spirit of modesty did you reply to my expressed wish
that you should exhibit yourself more frequently, mix more in the great
and the gay world, you then sensibly remarked, 'I wish to remain
faithful to all the duties belonging to my station, but I dread the
perils and temptations by which a young person like myself is ordinarily
beset, and I had much rather fly from such dangers than attempt to
combat them.'"
"Again!" said Bertha, deeply and unaffectedly touched by her husband's
mild and tolerant language, "let me implore as a favour that you will
revert no more to the past."
"Nay, nay," answered De Brévannes gaily, "you shall not induce me to
give up my point! I am determined to prove to you that I am as
indefatigable in the pursuit of good as evil, and that my frankness
equals your uprightness, which is not awarding a very slender compliment
to myself; and you shall to-day learn what my evil temper of yesterday
made me keep concealed from you."
"What was it?"
"You know I but seldom trouble you with my affairs. This time you will,
perhaps, excuse me if I go into some particulars which may prove
wearisome to your patience!"
"I beseech you proceed!"
"A relation of the Princess de Hansfeld holds a high and influential
post in Austria, and might serve me materially by obtaining important
privileges for a company now forming in Vienna, and in which I have
embarked considerable sums. Now, in obtaining an introduction to the
princess, and in supplicating of you to endeavour to conciliate her
favour, I confess I am influenced by motives of pure interest. Still it
is a mutual interest, since it tends to the augmentation of our common
wealth."
"And why did you not state this yesterday?"
"I probably should have done so had I not been carried away by
displeasure at your firm refusal to be presented to Madame de Hansfeld.
I plead guilty to having a very ungovernable temper, and yesterday I
positively lost all command over myself. We parted mutually dissatisfied
with each other, and I lost the opportunity of telling you what I wished
you to know."
"If such be your reasons, Charles, rely upon my doing all in my power to
render myself agreeable to the princess. Now that I know your interests
are involved in the matter, I shall have an aim, a purpose to gain in
visiting Madame de Hansfeld, and I shall view with far less dread the
perils my too great vanity led me to fear."
"Thanks, my good girl! See what it is to have a right understanding on a
subject! how every difficulty seems smoothed by an absence of all
mystery and disguise. How greatly I reproach myself for the impetuosity
I betrayed last night! When one is carried away by passion, it is so
very unlikely we should be able to state our real reasons with calmness
and accuracy. And now that we have found the sweets, as well as the
advantages, of reposing unlimited confidence, allow me to open my whole
heart to you."
"Oh, yes! I pray of you do so! If you only knew how much my heart feels
touched and gratified by language so new and unusual on your part!"
"And I, too, am wholly at a loss to understand the novel feelings I
myself entertain towards you."
"I know not what you mean, Charles!"
After a brief silence, M. de Brévannes resumed by saying,--
"Listen to me! There are two ways of regarding one's wife--either as a
mistress passionately adored, or as a highly valued friend. For a long
while my heart cherished you as the former of these endearing relations;
faults on my part, I will not attempt to deny, have deprived me of the
inestimable privilege of ranking as your lover, leaving me but the cold
shadow of my former happiness under the title of your friend. To pass
from the ardent lover to the sober reality of friendship is a bitter
struggle, when she we love, though bound by wedded ties, is charming and
captivating as a mistress."
"Let me beseech you----"
"But, great as it is, I have made the sacrifice. I have bowed to the
stern commands which bid me hope no more; and it is to my true,
faithful, and sincere friend I now address myself!"
So perfect was the dissimulation with which M. de Brévannes covered his
guilty designs, and so natural and affecting was the tone of his voice
while speaking, that a tear of regret filled the eye of Bertha, while a
full confession of her own disingenuousness trembled on her lips.
"And be assured," said she at length, "that your _friend_ will study
henceforward to deserve that title, and to be worthy of----"
"Enough, enough!" said M. de Brévannes, hastily interrupting Bertha. "I
know your exceeding goodness, and that your delicate mind is ever
sensitively alive to the wishes and happiness of others. Permit me,
however, to finish what I was about to say. As there are two ways of
loving a wife, so are there two distinct modes of entertaining
jealousy."
"Now, indeed, I am at a loss to comprehend you!"
"I fear, indeed, you experience some difficulty on this head, more
especially after some expressions I made use of yesterday, and which you
may probably have wrongly interpreted."
"What can you mean?"
"Oh, it is more than likely for you to have done so. Unfortunately our
discussion of yesterday assumed so high a tone that all things wore an
air of exaggeration. When I spoke of the many shades of difference which
existed between jealousy, love, and self-love, I merely meant to say
that the species of jealousy felt for one towards whom our sentiments
are but those of friendship is widely dissimilar to that raging torrent
which sweeps all before it at the bare idea of being superseded in the
affections of a wife who possesses our _love_. In the first instance the
heart alone suffers; in the second, a whirlwind of mighty passions tears
our very vitals, our brain totters beneath the agonising dread of losing
the beloved object, and, unfortunately, wounded pride shuts out from the
jealous man the many attempts of awakened tenderness to calm and heal
the smarting of his wounds. Do you understand me?"
"But----"
"I see you do not. Well, then, I will speak to you more plainly still. I
only fear not being able distinctly to state my sentiments, and probably
shocking you by their imperfect display."
"Speak on, and fear nothing!"
"Then listen to me. You have long ceased to excite in my breast any
feelings beyond those of friendship. Still, at two-and-twenty you may
well fear the temptations you mentioned yesterday, and, alas! no one is
more exposed to them than yourself, for with shame and sorrow I confess
that my conduct towards you, if it be not capable of authorising, is at
least perfectly calculated to extenuate, your faults."
"Can you for an instant suppose----"
"Give me leave to complete what I was saying. If I have still the right
of being (as I confess I am) horribly jealous as far as my pride is
concerned, that is to say, of all external appearances, all outward
demonstrations of regard for another, I am aware I have unfortunately
lost all claim to restrain or govern the impulses of your heart. My own
infidelity and unkindness have naturally chilled your affections towards
myself, and I have no claim even to inquire who is the fortunate object
who engrosses them. Nothing could be at once more positively unjust, as
well as absurd, than for me to hope or expect that, at your young age,
your heart should remain dead and insensible to love."
Bertha gazed on her husband with stupor.
"The only stipulation I consider myself entitled to make," continued he,
"and that is one I should most rigidly exact, is that my dear _friend_
will, in every outward attention to decorum, most scrupulously respect
the honour of my name, as she could possibly do were we linked together
in the bonds of the most tender love. In fact, I consider that your
public life is my affair, inasmuch as you are known and recognised as my
wife. The career of your heart is henceforward a sealed book for me,
since I have forfeited all right or control over it. You appear
astonished at my words, but reflect a little, recall our yesterday's
conversation, and you will find that I then expressed myself in almost
similar terms, differing merely in tone and manner, the _matter_
precisely the same. But, to finish our present discourse, understand me,
that from the present day you will enjoy the most perfect and
uncontrolled liberty--be your own mistress in every respect--we are
henceforward, if not legally, at least virtually, separated. But for the
very reason that this absolute and unrestricted freedom must naturally
lead you to the very extreme limit of propriety, so much the more
scrupulous must you be not to transgress any outward duty; for I tell
you again, in the same proportion as I shall be tolerant and indulgent
where merely the heart is concerned, so will you find me rigid and
mercilessly severe as regards all the acknowledged _convenances_ of
society. And now, my dear, I will leave you to meditate on what you have
heard--from this day forward our relative positions are distinctly
defined. It is most probable that I should have required this mutual
forbearance as regards the affections of the heart long before yourself.
However, this is not the time to divulge the secrets we may possibly
each be fancying secure within the recesses of our own bosoms, and I
shall shortly claim the indulgent hearing of my kind _friend_ while I
unfold a little _tendresse_ of my own. By the way, talking of
indulgences, that reminds me that I have to beg leave not only to absent
myself, but also your pardon for leaving you quite alone. In a few days'
time I shall depart on a short but most important journey."
"You going, Charles, and at the present time?"
"I shall be absent but a very short period, a fortnight at the longest,
and, as I before said, upon most urgent business; but in the meanwhile I
intrust you with the affair for which I am anxious to engage the
interest of Madame de Hansfeld, fully persuaded it could not be in safer
or surer hands. So fare ye well for the present. Mind and call up all
your beauty as you mingle in the gay world, for, if I have lost the
insatiate vanity of the lover, I still retain that of the husband!"
So saying M. de Brévannes touched the forehead of Bertha with his lips
and went out. He had restrained himself long enough, and too long for
his patience. When alone he gave full vent to the rage and fury which
knew no bounds. The varied emotions so legibly depicted on the ingenuous
countenance of Bertha while her husband was speaking, the sort of
involuntary joy (of which she seemed almost instantly ashamed, though
unable to conceal it) with which she heard the announcement of her
future independence, her vague apprehensions, her hopes by turns
awakened and restrained, all served to enlighten M. de Brévannes as to
the state of Bertha's heart.
He could not be mistaken--she loved. He was far too experienced in such
matters to entertain the least doubt on the subject.
He had, then, a rival, and his wife was deceiving him.
It was therefore with a species of satisfaction, at once savage and
revengeful, he thought of the profound security and blind confidence in
which he had left Madame de Brévannes.