Blanche de Laon that morning rode her English horse slowly down one of
the unfrequented roads in the Bois de Boulogne, and beside her paced
the handsome Tunisian mare of Loris Loswa. They were good friends,
although, or rather because, they went for their loves and their vices
elsewhere than to each other. He was conscious of the use it was to him
to be caressed and favoured by this pre-eminent leader of _la jeunesse
crâne_; and she found in him a suppleness, a malice, and an ingenuity,
in tormenting and in defaming, which made him an ever amusing and an
often useful companion to a lady who had no better sport than the
harassing of her friends and acquaintances.
Loswa was acutely sensible of the necessity which exists for any artist
who would continue famous and fashionable to make his court to the
new sovereigns of the great world, as turn by turn they succeed to
their leadership. The obligations of old loyalties and the memories
of old favours did not weigh a feather with his wise and self-loving
nature; a woman's influence was the measure of her beauty in his eyes,
and had Helen's self been _sur le retour_ she would have commanded no
smile from him. He saw in the Princesse de Laon an influence which
would grow with every fear for the next decade, so entirely were her
qualities those which her generation most admires and fears. Therefore
to no one was he in semblance more devoted, and no one had he flattered
more ingeniously, and immortalised more frequently with all the most
delicate homage of his art, though in his secret thoughts he denounced
as detestable the irregular colourless impertinent features of her
_minois chiffonné_, and her myosotis-coloured insolent eyes which
stared so arrogantly and so inquisitively on all living things.
'It is a vile type,' said Loswa in his own mind. 'It is a vile
type, all this _jeunesse du monde_. It is without grace and without
seduction; it is insolent and noisy; it is over-dressed and over-drawn;
it screams and it gambles; it wears the gowns of Goldoni's Venice with
the head-dresses of the Directoire; it empties the bazaars of Japan
into its salons of Louis Quinze; a vile type, with nothing in it of the
great lady, and nothing of the honest woman, only a _diable d'entrain_
which carries it away as a broomstick carries a witch!'
But, all the same, he was not willing to be left behind in the
excursions of the broomstick, and was very conscious that unless _cette
jeunesse_ made him one of them, he would cease to be the painter whom
fashion loved. It is so easy to become old-fashioned! so easy to become
one of that joyless and disregarded band--'_les vieux_!'
Therefore to all the young beauties, even if he owned them hideous, he
was careful to pay devoted court, and to none more, since none were
so powerful as she, than to Blanchette de Laon. His last portrait of
her was then upon his easel half finished; a study of pale tints, with
her pale face seen above a necklace of opals, with a great mass of
lemon-coloured chrysanthemum around and below, one of those dexterous
and daring violations of conventional art of which he possessed
the secret; and in it he had flattered her so delicately, yet so
immoderately, that her _museau de chatte_ had become actually beautiful
in his treatment of it.
'That is what one wants when one goes to be painted,' she had said
herself with cynical honesty.
She and he, good friends always and better friends still of late, rode
now side by side through the solitude of a rarely-used alley of the
Bois, and spoke in confidential tones together, as her perfect figure
in its dark cloth habit seemed one with the perfect English hunter
which she rode. She was not fond of any country sports, but she rode
admirably, and knew that riding displayed all the graces of her form.
'You are sure it is the girl of the island?' she asked.
'Quite sure,' answered Loswa. 'Madame Nadège asked me some questions,
you gave me a hint, Lemberg spoke of some new _protégée_ of Rosselin's.
I inquired about the theatres, at the Conservatoire; I imagined this
hidden miracle was the future Desclée of Bonaventure. I found out that
she lived near Magny, and was visited by Othmar; Magny is not the North
Pole that they should deem it unvisitable; I went there unseen myself,
and a farm labourer pointed out to me "_la demoiselle_:" she was at
a distance from me, walking by the river, but I recognised her at a
glance. One might have guessed it before. When she disappeared from the
island it was Othmar who knew where she went.'
'It is very droll!' said Blanchette, showing her white small teeth in a
grin of genuine appreciation. 'And do you suppose his wife knows?'
'Béthune knows, by his look the other day, and he will tell her: he
will be only too glad _de lui donner une dent_ against Othmar.'
'I have told her something,' said Blanche de Laon; 'though I did not
know who it was I knew that there was an interest at Chevreuse; I saw
him walking in the fields there: but is the girl truly a genius?'
Loswa smiled.
'Who shall say? But the _chère amie_ of a rich millionaire will always
find a public to swear that she is so. They already speak amongst
artists of her coming _début_, and it is easy to see the value which is
attached to the millions behind her. There is very little known about
her, but that fact is known of Othmar's interest in her, and no doubt
it will make it easy for her to appear on some great theatre.'
'They say she is first to appear at Othmar's own house.'
'That will be very clever, but very dangerous. Madame Nadège is not a
person with whom _on peut plaisanter_. I should doubt her condescending
to condonation of that kind.'
Blanchette laughed.
'He is very indulgent to her about Béthune. He may surely expect the
usual equivalent in return.'
Loswa was irritated.
'He knows well enough that Béthune is nothing to her; Béthune has
worshipped her for fifteen years. I admit that; but he has had his
pains for his payment; she lets him follow her about, but it is only
_pour rire_.'
Blanchette laughed and flicked her horse's throat with her little white
switch.
'You speak as if you were jealous! You always admired that cold woman.
To return to the coming Desclée. Paris already talks of her, you say?'
'It is not my fault if it do not,' she thought.
'Vaguely, yes,' answered Loswa. 'It has an expectation of some new
talent which has what all talent in our generation requires: a prop of
gold behind it.'
'Have you discreetly whispered that it is one with the original of a
sketch of a fishing girl?'
Loswa smiled.
'I have caused it to be whispered, of course; we never say those things
ourselves.'
'Where does Othmar hide her at present, do you say?'
'At a farmhouse at Les Hameaux. He is not magnificent in his
maintenance of her; it is a very simple place, and she lives very
simply there.'
'That is just like a very rich man. Besides, Othmar always has a taste
for black bread and bare boards. You know at one time he actually
dreamed of breaking up the whole network of the Othmar power, and
stripping himself of everything, and living like St. Vincent de Paul.
That was before those children were born; their mother would certainly
never take the vow of poverty! Well, shall you and I ride down to
Magny some morning and see this prodigy of genius and simplicity? You
can recall yourself to her, and you can present me. We will represent
ourselves as inspired by what we have heard from Rosselin.'
Loswa hesitated. Othmar was not a man whom he cared to cross. Yet
he had a desire to see again the face which he had sketched on
Bonaventure, and he had a vague idea that by going thither he might in
some way learn something which would enable him to pay off that old
score which had so long cherished against Othmar's wife. He had had a
restless and hopeless passion for her years before; he had served and
flattered her docilely because he held at its just value the great
power of her social influence; he had been of use to her in a thousand
ways at her château parties and in her Paris entertainments; he had
always been docile and devoted, and ingenious to please, and submissive
under offence, but all the same, at the bottom of his heart there was
a bitter rancour against her for her blindness to his charms; for her
criticism of his talents; for her constant careless treatment of him
as a mere _décor de fête_, as a mere amateur; and if he could see her
pride hurt or her indifference penetrated, he felt that he would be
happier and better satisfied. A thousand slighting words which she had
spoken out of caprice, and forgotten as soon as they were uttered,
had remained written on his memory and unforgiven. He would not have
quarrelled with her openly for his life; he was too sensible of the
pleasure of her acquaintance, the charm of her presence, the value
of her goodwill; but if he could have helped unseen to put any thorns
under the rose leaves of her couch, he would have done so willingly; he
would have even chosen thorns which were poisoned.
'Yes, we will go and see her,' said Blanchette, as their horses paced
under the boughs. 'It is always amusing to be the first to inspect a
person the world is going to be asked to admire. _On peut la dénigrer
si bien!_'
'But,' suggested Loswa, with hesitation, 'if we _dénigrer_ here, we
shall please Madame Nadège. Is that what you wish to do? I think if
we go at all we must, on the contrary, go to befriend, to admire, to
assist the new talent.'
Blanche de Laon gave him a little approving caress with her whip.
'You are a clever man, Loris,' she said with appreciation. 'We will go
to-morrow--no, the day after to-morrow,' she added. 'I will meet you at
St. Cyr; the horses shall be sent there by train; I often send mine by
train to places where I wish to ride; send yours also. We will go early
because it is a long way. The day after to-morrow I know that Othmar
will be at Ferrières; there is a great breakfast; he cannot escape from
it; there will be no fear of meeting him in Chevreuse.'
'But are you sure what we shall accomplish when we reach there?'
'You will finish the sketch begun on the island, and I shall forestall
the dramatic criticism of Francisque Sarcey.'
'Othmar will not like it.'
'Othmar need not know it. My dear Loris, do you suppose that by feeding
her on buttermilk, and hiding her under a thatched roof, he secures the
primitive virtues in his idealised peasant? You may be sure she already
tells him nothing that she does not choose to tell. _On n'est pas femme
pour rien!_'
Loswa rode on in silence awhile, then he said with a smile:
'I have an idea, which, if we could realise it, might possibly
prove amusing. You will recollect that there are to be dramatic
representations at Amyôt next week when the Princes are there?'
Blanchette nodded assent.
'And Madame Nadège,' continued Loswa, 'is always very solicitous for
the success of her theatre; she spares nothing at any time on that kind
of entertainment; and the representations of next week are to be really
royal; all the greatest artists are engaged for them. I have always a
good deal to do with arranging these things for Amyôt; and I know that
it is most likely that the Reichenberg, who is to play there, will
not have recovered the chill which she caught yesterday at La Marche.
If she should not, shall we substitute Damaris Bérarde? I need not
appear in the matter; I can send the director of Amyôt to Rosselin,
and in any way we should have an entertaining scene not included in
the programme. If the new wonder succeed, the Lady of Amyôt will not
be pleased, and will undoubtedly quarrel with her husband; if, on the
contrary, the girl should turn nervous, or hysterical, or passionate,
and forget her _rôle_, it will be diverting enough, and in any case
will embarrass Othmar himself. I think in either event we should have a
droll ten minutes.'
Blanche de Laon showed her white teeth in an approving smile.
'You are always ingenious,' she said. 'But if Othmar be already
desirous of making the girl appear under his wife's patronage, perhaps
your scheme would only gratify him? What then?'
'He is only desirous of that because he thinks that his wife does not
know of Les Hameaux; but we will take care that she does know; and I
think she may be trusted to resent it. She does not care a straw for
him, but she cares immeasurably for her own dignity, her own influence,
her own empire.'
Blanchette nodded again.
'We will see what the new star is like, first,' she answered. 'It is
not a mere handsome nobody with a turn for the stage who will excite
her jealousy: she is too proud to be easily jealous.'
'The girl is magnificent,' said Loswa, as he thought. 'Jealousy is
always alive, even if love has been dead a century.'