UNEXPECTED CONSOLATION.
Two months had elapsed since the death of Madame de Beaumesnil, and
great activity reigned in the house of M. le Baron de la Rochaigue, who
had been appointed guardian of Ernestine de Beaumesnil at a family
council convoked shortly after the demise of the countess.
The servants of the household were hurrying to and fro arranging
articles of furniture, under the superintendence of the baron, his wife,
and his sister, Mlle. Helena de la Rochaigue, an old maid about
forty-five years of age, whose plain black dress, downcast eyes, white,
pinched face, and severely arranged white hair made her look very much
like a _religieuse_, though she had never taken monastic vows.
M. de la Rochaigue, a very tall, thin man, between sixty and seventy
years of age, was quite bald. He had a receding forehead and chin,
prominent blue eyes, and a long nose. His lips were wreathed in a
perpetual smile, which displayed exceedingly white, but unusually long,
teeth, that imparted a decidedly sheep-like character to his
physiognomy. He had an excellent figure, and by holding himself rigidly
erect and buttoning his long black coat straight up to his white cravat,
he managed to make himself a living copy of the portrait of Canning,
"the perfect type of a gentleman statesman," as the baron often
remarked.
M. de la Rochaigue was not a statesman, however, though he had long
aspired to become one. In fact, this ambition had developed into a sort
of mania with him. Believing himself an unknown Canning, and being
unable to air his eloquence in the councils of the nation, he took
advantage of each and every opportunity to make a speech, and always
assumed a parliamentary tone and attitude in discussing the most trivial
matter.
One of the most salient characteristics of the baron's oratory was a
redundancy of adjectives and adverbs, which seemed to him to treble the
effect of his finest thoughts, though if we might venture to adopt the
baron's phraseology, we could truly say that nothing could be more
insignificant, more commonplace, and more void of meaning than what he
styled his thoughts.
Madame de la Rochaigue, who was now about forty-five, had been extremely
pretty, coquettish, and charming. Her figure was still slender and
graceful, but the youthfulness and elaborateness of her toilets seemed
ill-suited to one of her mature years.
The baroness was passionately fond of luxury and display. There was
nothing that she loved better than to organise and preside at
magnificent entertainments, but unfortunately, her fortune, though
considerable, did not correspond with her very expensive tastes.
Besides, she had no intention of impoverishing herself; so being an
extremely shrewd and economical woman, she managed to enjoy the prestige
which lavish expenditure imparts to one by frequently acting as the
patroness of the many obscure but enormously rich foreigners or
provincials--meteors--who, after dazzling Paris a few years, vanish for
ever in darkness and oblivion.
Madame de la Rochaigue in such cases did not allow her proteges the
slightest liberty, even in the selection of their guests. She gave them
a list of the persons they were to entertain, not even granting them
permission to invite such of their friends or compatriots as she did not
consider worthy to appear in aristocratic society.
The baroness, holding a high social position herself, could easily
launch her clients in the best society, but in the meantime she was
really the mistress of their house. It was she alone who planned their
entertainments, and it was to her that persons applied for a place on
the list of guests bidden to these sumptuous and exclusive reunions.
It is needless to say that she considered a box at the opera and other
fashionable places of amusement an absolute necessity, and, in this box,
the best seat was always reserved for her. It was the same at the races,
and in the frequent visits to the seashore and other fashionable
watering-places. Her proteges rented a house, and sent down chefs,
servants, and horses and carriages, and in these admirably appointed
establishments Madame de la Rochaigue kept open house for her friends.
So insatiable is the longing for pleasure in society, even the most
fashionable society, that, instead of revolting at the idea of a woman
of noble birth devoting herself to the shameful robbing of these
unfortunate people whose foolish vanity was leading them on to ruin,
society flattered Madame de la Rochaigue, the dispenser of all this
lavish hospitality, and the lady herself was not a little proud of the
advantages she derived from her patronage; besides being clever, witty,
shrewd, and remarkably self-possessed, Madame de la Rochaigue was one of
the seven or eight brilliant women who exerted a real influence over
what is known as Parisian society.
The three persons above referred to were engaged in adding the finishing
touches to a spacious suite of superbly appointed apartments that
occupied the entire first floor of a mansion in the Faubourg St.
Germain.
M. and Madame de la Rochaigue had relinquished these rooms and
established themselves on the second floor, a part of which was occupied
by Mlle. de la Rochaigue, while the rest had heretofore served as
quarters for the baron's daughter and son-in-law, when they left their
estates, where they resided most of the year, for a two months' sojourn
in Paris.
These formerly rather dilapidated and very parsimoniously furnished
apartments had been entirely renovated and superbly decorated for Mlle.
Ernestine de Beaumesnil, whose health had become sufficiently restored
to admit of her return to France, and who was expected to arrive from
Italy that very day, accompanied by her governess, and a sort of steward
or courier whom M. de la Rochaigue had despatched to Naples to bring the
orphan home.
The extreme care which the baron and his wife and sister were bestowing
on the arrangement of the rooms was almost ludicrous, so plainly did it
show the intense eagerness and obsequiousness with which Mlle. de
Beaumesnil was awaited, though there was something almost depressing in
the thought that all this splendour was for a mere child of sixteen, who
seemed likely to be almost lost in these immense rooms.
After a final survey of the apartments, M. de la Rochaigue summoned all
the servants, and, seeing a fine opportunity for a speech, uttered the
following memorable words with all his wonted majesty of demeanour:
"I here assemble my people together, to say, declare, and signify to
them that Mlle. de Beaumesnil, my cousin and ward, is expected to arrive
this evening. I desire also to say to them that Madame de la Rochaigue
and myself intend, desire, and wish that our people should obey Mlle. de
Beaumesnil's orders even more scrupulously than our own. In other words,
I desire to say to our people that anything and everything Mlle. de
Beaumesnil may say, order, or command, they are to obey as implicitly,
unhesitatingly, and blindly as if the order had been given by Madame de
la Rochaigue or myself. I count upon the zeal, intelligence, and
exactitude of my people in this particular, and we shall reward
handsomely all who manifest hearty good-will, solicitude, and
unremitting zeal in Mlle. de Beaumesnil's service."
After this eloquent adjuration the servants were dismissed, and the
cooks were ordered to have everything in readiness to serve either a hot
or cold repast in case Mlle. de Beaumesnil should desire something to
eat on her arrival.
These preparations concluded, Madame de la Rochaigue suggested to her
husband that they go up to their own apartments.
"I was about to make the same proposition to you," responded M. de la
Rochaigue, smiling, and showing his long teeth with the most affable air
imaginable.
As the baron and baroness and Mlle. de la Rochaigue were leaving the
apartment, a servant stepped up to M. de la Rochaigue, and said:
"There is a young woman here who wishes to speak with madame."
"Who is she?"
"She did not give her name. She came to return something belonging to
the late Comtesse de Beaumesnil."
"Admit her," said the baroness.
Then, turning to her husband and sister-in-law, she said:
"I wonder who it can be?"
"I haven't the slightest idea, but we shall soon know."
"Some claim on the estate, probably," remarked the baroness. "It should
have been sent to the notary."
Almost at the same instant the servant opened the door, and announced:
"Mademoiselle Herminie."
Though beautiful under any and all circumstances, the lovely face of the
"duchess," wan from the profound grief caused by the death of her
mother, wore an expression of intense sadness. Her lovely golden hair,
which she usually wore in long curls, was wound smoothly around her
head, for, in her bitter sorrow, the poor child for the last two months
had entirely forgotten the innocent vanities of youth. Another trivial
but highly significant detail,--Herminie's white and beautifully shaped
hands were bare; the shabby little gloves so often and carefully mended
were no longer wearable, and her increasing poverty would not permit her
to purchase others.
Yes, her poverty, for, wounded to the heart by her mother's death, and
dangerously ill for six weeks, the young girl had been unable to give
the music lessons which were her only means of support, and her little
store of savings had been swallowed up in the expenses of her illness,
so, while waiting for the pay for the lessons resumed only a few days
before, Herminie had been obliged to pawn some silver purchased in an
hour of affluence, and on the paltry sum thus obtained she was now
living with a parsimony which want alone can teach.
On seeing this pale but beautiful girl, whose clothing indicated extreme
poverty, in spite of its scrupulous neatness, the baron and his wife
exchanged glances of surprise.
"I am Madame de la Rochaigue, mademoiselle," said the baroness. "What
can I do for you?"
"I came, madame, to rectify a mistake," replied Herminie, blushing
deeply, "and return this five hundred franc note which was sent to me
by--by the late Madame de Beaumesnil's notary."
In spite of her courage, Herminie felt the tears rush to her eyes on
uttering her mother's name, but making a violent effort to conquer her
emotion, she held out the bank-note enclosed in an envelope, bearing
this address:
_For Mlle. Herminie,_
_Singing Teacher._
[Illustration: "She Held Out the Bank-note."]
"Ah, yes, it was you, mademoiselle, who used to play and sing for Madame
de Beaumesnil."
"Yes, madame."
"I recollect now that the family council decided that five hundred
francs should be sent to you for your services. It was considered that
this amount--"
"Would be a suitable, sufficient, and satisfactory remuneration," added
the baron, sententiously.
"And if it is not, the complaint should be made to the notary, not to
us," added the baroness.
"I have come, madame," said Herminie, gently but proudly, "to return the
money. I have been paid."
No one present realised or could realise the bitter sorrow hidden in
these words:
"I have been paid."
But Herminie's dignity and disinterestedness, a disinterestedness which
the shabby garments of the young girl rendered the more remarkable, made
a deep impression on Madame de la Rochaigue, and she said:
"Really, mademoiselle, I can not praise too highly this delicacy and
keen sense of honour on your part. The family did not know that you had
been paid, but," added the baroness, hesitatingly, for Herminie's air of
quiet dignity impressed her not a little,--"but I--I feel that I may, in
the name of the family, beg you to keep this five hundred francs--as--as
a gift."
And the baroness held out the bank-note to the young girl, casting
another quick glance at her shabby garments as she did so.
Again a blush of wounded pride mounted to Herminie's brow, but it is
impossible to describe the perfect courtesy and proud simplicity with
which the girl replied:
"Will you, madame, kindly reserve this generous gift for the many
persons who must appeal to you for charity."
Then, without another word, Herminie bowed to Madame de la Rochaigue,
and turned towards the door.
"Excuse me, mademoiselle," cried the baroness, "one word more, just
one."
The young girl, unable to entirely conceal the tears of humiliation
repressed with such difficulty until now, turned, and said to Madame de
la Rochaigue, who seemed to have been suddenly struck with a new idea:
"What do you wish, madame?"
"I must ask you first to pardon an insistence which seems to have
wounded your delicacy, and made you think, perhaps, that I wished to
humiliate you, but I assure you--"
"I never suppose that any one desires to humiliate me, madame," replied
Herminie, gently and firmly, but without allowing Madame de la Rochaigue
to finish her sentence.
"And you are right, mademoiselle," responded the baroness, "for it is an
entirely different sentiment that you inspire. Now, I have a service, I
might even say a favour, to ask of you."
"Of me?"
"Do you still give piano lessons, mademoiselle?"
"Yes, madame."
"M. de la Rochaigue," said the baroness, pointing to her husband, who
was smiling according to his custom, "is the guardian of Mlle. de
Beaumesnil, who is expected to arrive here this evening."
"Mlle. de Beaumesnil!" exclaimed Herminie, with a violent start; "she is
coming here--to-day?"
"As madame has just had the honour to say to you, we expect Mlle. de
Beaumesnil, my much loved cousin and ward, will arrive this evening,"
said the baron. "These apartments are intended for her," he added,
casting a complacent glance around the magnificent room, "apartments
worthy in every respect of the richest heiress in France, for whom
nothing is too good--"
But the baroness, unceremoniously interrupting her husband, said to
Herminie:
"Mlle. de Beaumesnil is only sixteen, and her education is not yet
entirely completed. She will need instruction in several branches, and
if you can make it convenient to give Mlle. de Beaumesnil lessons in
music we should be delighted to entrust her to you."
Though the possibility of such an offer had gradually dawned upon
Herminie's mind as the baroness proceeded, the thought that a most lucky
chance was about to bring her in contact with her sister so overcame her
that she would doubtless have betrayed herself if the baron, eager to
improve this fresh opportunity to pose as an orator, had not slipped his
left hand in the breast of his tightly buttoned coat, and, with his
right hand oscillating like a pendulum, said:
"Mademoiselle, though we feel it a sacred duty to select our dear ward's
instructors with the most scrupulous care, it is also an infinite
satisfaction, pleasure, and happiness to us to occasionally meet
persons, who, like yourself, are endowed with all the necessary
attributes for the noble vocation to which they have dedicated
themselves in the sacred interest of education."
This speech, or rather this tirade, which the baron uttered in a single
breath, fortunately afforded Herminie time to recover her composure, and
it was with comparative calmness that she turned to Madame de la
Rochaigue, and said:
"I am deeply touched, madame, by the confidence you manifest in me. I
shall try to prove that I am worthy of it."
"Very well, mademoiselle, as you accept my offer I will notify you as
soon as Mlle. de Beaumesnil is ready to begin her lessons, for she will
probably need several days in which to recover from the fatigue of her
journey."
"I will wait, then, until I hear from you before coming to Mlle. de
Beaumesnil," said Herminie. Then she bowed and withdrew.
It was in an ecstasy of delight that the girl returned to her humble
home.
Delicacy, a truly laudable pride, and filial love of the purest and most
elevated kind would prevent Herminie from ever revealing to her sister
the bond of union between them, even as these same sentiments had given
her strength to keep silence before Madame de Beaumesnil; but the
prospect of this speedy meeting plunged the young artiste into a
transport of delight, and brought her the most unexpected consolation.
Moreover, her natural sagacity, together with a vague distrust of both
M. and Madame de la Rochaigue, whom she had just seen for the first
time, told Herminie that this child of sixteen summers, this sister whom
she loved without even knowing her, should have been entrusted to the
care of very different persons; and if her expectations did not deceive
her, the affection she hoped to arouse in her sister's heart might be
made to exert a very beneficial influence.
It is almost unnecessary to say that, in spite of her very straitened
circumstances, it never once occurred to Herminie to compare the almost
fabulous wealth of her sister with her own condition, which was that of
a poor artiste exposed to all the trying vicissitudes of sickness and
poverty.
Proud and generous natures diffuse around them a radiance which not
unfrequently melts even the thick ice of selfishness and egotism, as in
the preceding interview, when Herminie's dignity, exquisite grace, and
simplicity of manner had awakened so much interest and extorted such
respect from M. and Madame de la Rochaigue,--worldly-minded and
unsympathising though they were,--that they had entirely of their own
accord made the young girl the offer that so rejoiced her heart.
The baron and his wife and sister, left alone after Herminie's
departure, went up to their own apartments to hold a conference on the
subject of Ernestine de Beaumesnil's arrival and the tactics that should
be pursued.