CHAPTER XV.

A little beyond Montrétout, the road makes a sudden turn to the left.

At this point commences a magnificent avenue of old elms, leading to a

country house built in the days of Louis XIV, and now hardly visible

through the dense foliage surrounding it.

Here lived M. and Mme. de Smarte, and here Odette was spending a few

days with her friend.

Adèle de Smarte was one of the loveliest and best women in Paris,

stylish and witty. It is not difficult to acquire a reputation for

brilliancy by making cruel, sarcastic remarks about one's friends; but

Adèle's witty conversation never belied her loving, loyal heart.

Towards eight o'clock, the guests, scattered about the grounds since

dinner, gradually re-assembled in the drawing-rooms. It was one of

those exquisite Summer evenings, when mere existence is bliss.

"Do not forget your promise to give us some music this evening, dear

Odette," said Mme. de Smarte.

"I have not forgotten it," she replied.

Odette was a wonderful pianist. Her exceptional musical talent had

been cultivated until perfection was the result. She never waited to

be urged. Only indifferent performers require coaxing and persuading,

before they will attack the unfortunate piano.

"What will you have?" she asked, turning to her hostess.

"Beethoven--his music suits all tastes."

Odette commenced the sonata in C sharp, minor--that marvelous work--it

is a soul crying out in its agony. Mme. Frager played it with her whole

heart, and when she had finished, all remained silent still affected

by its wonderful beauty.

The sound of the door-bell broke the silence.

"Who can be coming here so late?" exclaimed Mme. de Smarte, in

astonishment.

A servant opened the door to the drawing-room, and announced:

"M. Paul Frager."

Odette started to her feet as she heard her husband's name, and stood

leaning against the piano.

The young man's features were distorted and pale. He was trembling, and

yet seemed rigid in his stately dignity.

Odette saw at the first glance that Paul knew her crime, and felt that

every thing was at an end for her, but did not stir from where she

stood, bravely awaiting the blow.

Mme. de Smarte welcomed M. Frager, and enquired after his mother. But

all in the room felt the tragedy to come, and all held their breath as

the young man began to speak.

"Madame," he said, bowing gravely to Mme. de Smarte, "only the

importance of my errand excuses this late arrival. I hope you will

forgive me, and grant me this request, that I may consider this house

as my own for the next ten minutes."

All had risen to their feet, pale and trembling. All understood that

the tempest had broken, and that the whispers about Odette were to be

answered in this fatal hour. Adèle's heart swelled with sympathy and

compassion for the betrayed husband, yet she dared not reply to him.

Her husband, however, bowed to the young man in token of silent assent,

and he continued slowly, "Madame, I have discovered a most abominable

crime. The woman that bears my name has a lover; that lover is my

mother's husband. I am ignorant of the exact length of time that my

dishonor has lasted; but I know this, every one seeing me live under

his roof and eat his bread, must have supposed my complaisant blindness

was bought and paid for; that I, the son of one and the husband of the

other, bargained with my mother's disgrace and my wife's virtue. God

keep you all from such despair as mine. But if my happiness is gone for

ever, I will at least preserve my honor."

Turning to Odette, he continued:

"As M. de Smarte has had the kindness to allow me to consider this

house as my own, I order you out of it, and not only out of this house,

but out of society. I want your degradation to be as public as your

disgrace has been."

All were silent. Odette stood proudly defiant before them.

Pointing to the open door, Paul exclaimed, "Begone!"

A smile curled her lips. Rather die than let any one see the savage

despair in her heart, she shrugged her shoulders, and passed through

the groups to the door. On the threshold she turned and confronted them

once more, then coolly took her shawl from a chair in the hall, threw

it over her shoulders, and walked slowly down the avenue until she was

lost to sight.

She sank on the grass by the road-side, saying, "There is nothing

so grand as a good, noble man," and sat there a few minutes staring

blankly into the darkness. She imagined she heard steps approaching;

frightened, she rose and fled.

Where could she go? To her father? Claude was away, and besides, in

this supreme hour, she saw clearly that Claude would abandon her

after such public disgrace. She was walking hurriedly down the road

to Montrétout. She could see Paris in front of her; the thousands of

lights twinkled in the distance like stars; no buildings could be

separately distinguished, only a dark mass, stretched as far as she

could see. The Seine lay like a ribbon before her, a belt that the

proud city has wound around her waist; yonder lay a dark shadow that

she knew was the Bois de Boulogne, with its thick foliage. Odette

stopped to gaze at the scene before her. So that was Paris--Paris that

had crowned her one of the queens of fashion and beauty! Paris that was

so indulgent to respectable vice; so forgiving to concealed crimes, and

so pitilessly cruel when the thin disguise was removed; so relentless

when the Rubicon has once been crossed.

The distant murmur that came to her from the great city seemed a

thousand voices, crying Shame. She was an outcast!

The train was just starting as she sprang into the car. Fortunately,

she met none of her acquaintances.

The scandal to-morrow would be known all over the city. The famous

artist's love for his daughter-in-law would be the sensation of the

hour.

Germaine alone remained to her. Germaine would receive her.

She was driven to the old house on the Quai Voltaire, and, in spite

of the late hour, found Germaine still busy at work, sewing. The door

stood open into little Bessie's bed-room, so that as she worked she

could watch the little one's peaceful slumber.

Germaine raised her head as the door opened, and looked quietly at her

sister.

"You are astonished at seeing me, Germaine."

"I was expecting you."

"Expecting me?"

"Yes. When a woman is sunk as deep in crime and degradation as you are,

the hour comes sooner or later when she is driven to seek shelter with

her own family. I am not surprised."

Odette staggered back against the wall. Germaine knew all!

Her sister's cold, quiet tones pierced her to the heart. What! would

Germaine, too, drive her away!

She ran to her sister, and, seizing her hand, cried: "Do you hate me,

too?"

Germaine released her hand without replying. Then the bitterness of

death overcame Odette. She was alone, alone! Even Germaine repulsed

her! But Germaine could not drive her away! She would never believe her

sister capable of such cold-heartedness.

Grasping her hand again, she cried: "Oh, Germaine, why do you treat me

so? I have only you left to love me. I never would have shut you out of

my heart if you had committed a crime. Here, on my knees, I implore you

to take pity on me." And she clung, sobbing, to her sister. Germaine

looked down at her with infinite compassion and sorrow.

"I have no excuse, not one! But, if you only knew what I suffered,

trying to resist this consuming passion. You can not know. Your life

is so pure and holy, that you can not even imagine what love and

passion are."

Germaine started up, her eyes flaming: "Your criminal passion is no

excuse. You think no one can resist this love that carries one away

like a mighty river. You think I can not even imagine what love and

passion are! But, let me tell you that I, too, know them as well as

you! I carry in my heart a love as deep, as wildly passionate, as

yours. You love Claude; I love Paul! Do you remember that little

romance I told you so long ago? It was Paul that was at our house. It

was Paul I loved. When you told me the name of your future husband, my

soul writhed in agony. But I said nothing, because I supposed of course

you loved him."

Odette was still kneeling on the floor, completely overwhelmed by this

revelation.

Germaine continued: "I have never entered your door since I discovered

that you were betraying your noble husband. I became nearly insane

with the longing to throw my arms around his neck, to lavish the love

and tenderness upon him that his wife was giving to another. Many and

many a time have I prayed for strength to resist this burning passion

that drove me to him. My sleepless nights, my feverish days--it is

with me all the time! So, do not come to me with any excuses for your

crime!" Seeing Odette's utter despair, she again felt only pity for

her, and stooped to embrace her. Odette avoided her, however, saying:

"You have compassion on me because you are an angel, but your love for

me is past."

"Odette!"

"Yes; you love me no longer. I do not blame you. I have unconsciously

caused you the greatest suffering and sorrow. I came between you and

your happiness. We can never be the same again, for I have ruined your

life. May I go to your room for to-night? I am fainting with fatigue,

and I wish to be alone."

Odette dragged herself to the bed-room and closed the door. So Germaine

loved Paul, as Odette loved Claude! Why had one fallen, while the

other stood firm? She glanced around the simple chamber, so pure and

sweet. The bed stood in the alcove, half hidden by the pretty muslin

curtains. A few vases and photographs lay on the mantelpiece, with a

little statue of the Virgin Mary in the center. Did Germaine's strength

of character come from that little statue? Could it be her religion

that had sustained and comforted her in her hours of darkness? Odette

meditated long and deeply. Which was true, Atheism or Religion? Which

of the two sisters was the better prepared for the battle of life; the

one with her beads and images, or the one with logic and reason?

Odette dared not reply. Germaine had not fallen, simply because her

temptation had not been as great. It was too absurd to think that her

faith in some stories about a cross and a child in a manger, had given

her the victory.

But Odette was persuaded that Germaine's flame-lit eyes revealed a

love as passionate as her own. Perhaps she, too, would have conquered,

if she had had this faith; and how it would have consoled her in her

present loathsome degradation! Did not Christ forgive the Magdalen at

his feet?

The hours passed slowly. Morning had arrived before she sank to sleep.

When she awoke, Germaine was kneeling at her bedside, holding her hand.

"You?" murmured Odette.

"Yes, dear sister. I am here to implore your forgiveness. I was harsh

and cruel to you last night. Will you accept me for your companion?

I have plenty of money, you know. Let us go far, far away, to some

other country, where you and I can live alone together, in peace and

content."

Odette replied:

"Oh, you brave, noble heart! I am guilty and miserable; but I am not

degraded enough to accept your noble offer."

She embraced her sister tenderly, humbly; then she rose.

"Farewell, dear Germaine! I must go to my doom. Farewell."

As she entered Germaine's sitting-room, she met her father, and saw by

his agitation and the open letter in his hand, that he had heard from

Paul.

"You, here!" he exclaimed. "Miserable girl!"

Odette had her hand on the door, but turned at these words.

"You, at least, can not reproach me, father! An hour of irresistible

temptation comes to us women. We feel ourselves dragged to the edge

of the precipice with a terrible grasp. Other women have some thing

to cling to, some God to cry to; but I could find nothing to seize

hold of. I screamed for help, but none came. I looked to Heaven, but

you had taught me it was empty. I know what you are going to say. My

shame and disgrace are known all over the city. I can feel the pitiless

finger of scorn pointed at me. I am fallen so low that, if I did not

have an angel for a sister, not one compassionate glance would fall on

me. This degradation is your work, father. Are you not proud of it?

God, the soul, eternity, the Virgin--they may be foolish, old-fashioned

superstitions; but women without them are helpless and lost."

She turned again to the door.

"Odette, Odette, where are you going?" cried the unhappy father.

"I am going where all women go whose honor is lost, who are desperate,

who believe in neither God, nor goodness, nor justice. I am going--to

perdition!"

And she disappeared, leaving her father's gray head bowed in despair,

while Germaine was kneeling, her eyes and hands raised to Heaven.

* * * * *

All Paris remembers Claude Sirvin's attempt at suicide.

The famous artist shot himself in the breast, but fortunately he

recovered from the dangerous wound. I met him not long since, gay and

smiling, with a pretty little actress on his arm.

* * * * *

But no one seemed so thoroughly contented and happy as Count David

de Bruges; that is, until the day when his handsome horses ran away

with him and overturned the carriage. His injuries were comparatively

slight, but his companion, the beautiful Odette, was carried home

lifeless.

In a beautiful villa, almost hidden by the grand old elm trees

surrounding it, in Paissy, that lovely suburb of Paris, lives the

author of that work on "Comparative Legislation," which last Winter

attracted such attention in the legal circles of the old and the new

world.

A quiet peace and contentment reign in this charming home, where Elaine

and Paul, in their true and tender affection for each other, have

sought and found forgiveness and forgetfulness of the sad, sad past.

The future shines bright with hope, for Paul is soon to bring Germaine

to his mother as his tenderly loved wife.

With Elaine's devoted affection, and Germaine's true, noble heart that

for so many years has worshiped him in secret, Paul Frager will surely

find that beautiful happiness of home that is

----"The only bliss

Of Paradise that has survived the fall."

THE SUCCESS OF THE YEAR.

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"No Gentlemen."

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BARBERINE:

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* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious printing mistakes have been corrected.

Both "fireplace" and "fire-place" were used in this book.

Both "depot" and "dépôt" were used in this book.

Page 17, closing quotation mark added.

Page 22, repeated word "the" removed in "the other, about the fogs."

Page 35, "priz" changed to "prix."

Page 100, "for-one" changed to "for one."

Page 111, "wierd" changed to "weird."

Page 160, "acknowlege" changed to "acknowledge."

Page 168, "tête-á-têtes" changed to "tête-à-têtes."

Page 176, opening quotation mark added.

Page 253, superfluous opening quotation mark removed.

Page 254, repeated word "one" removed.

Page 256, added missing period after "May 7, 1880."

Page 257, missing period added after "Detective."

Page 257, opening double quotation mark added before "Shadowed by..."

Page 257, missing period added after "colored story."

Odette's Marriage A Novel, from the French of Albert Delpit, Translated from the "Revue des Deux Mondes," by Emily Prescott · 第 15 / 15 章