“Daniel Champcey.”
It was Daniel, Peter’s brother. Pale as death, the countess turned as if
to escape.
“What must I say?” asked the servant, rather surprised at the emotion
shown by his mistress.
The poor woman felt as if she was going to faint.
“Show him up,” she replied in a scarcely audible voice,--“show him up.”
When she looked up again, there stood before her a young man, twenty-
three or twenty-four years old, with a frank and open face, and clear,
bright eyes, beaming with intelligence and energy.
The countess pointed at a chair near her; for she could not have uttered
a word to save her daughter’s life.
He could not help noticing her embarrassment; but he did not guess the
cause. Peter had never mentioned Pauline’s name in his father’s house.
So he sat down, and explained why he came, showing neither embarrassment
nor forwardness.
As soon as he had graduated at the Naval Academy, he had been made a
midshipman on board “The Formidable,” and there he was still. A younger
man had recently been wrongly promoted over him; and he had asked for
leave of absence to appeal to the secretary of the navy. He felt
quite sure of the justice of his claims; but he also knew that strong
recommendations never spoil a good cause. In fact, he hoped that Count
Ville-Handry, of whose kindness and great influence he had heard much,
would consent to indorse his claims.
Gradually, and while listening to him, the countess recovered her
calmness.
“My husband will be happy to serve a countryman of his,” she replied;
“and he will tell you so himself, if you will be kind enough to wait for
him, and stay to dinner.”
Daniel did stay. At table he was placed by the side of Henrietta, who
was then fifteen years old; and the countess, seeing these two young
and handsome people side by side, was suddenly struck with an idea which
seemed to her nothing less than inspiration from on high. Why might she
not intrust the future happiness of her daughter to the brother of the
poor man who had loved her so dearly? Thus she might make some amends
for her own conduct, and show some respect to his memory.
“Yes,” she said to herself that night, before falling asleep, “it must
be so. Daniel shall be Henrietta’s husband.”
Thus it came about, that, only a fortnight later, Count Ville-Handry
said to one of his intimate friends, pointing out Daniel,--
“That young Champcey is a very remarkable young man; he has a great
future before him. And one of these days, when he is a lieutenant, and
a few years older, if it should so happen that he liked Henrietta, and
asked me for my consent, I should not say no. The countess might think
and say of it what she chooses, I am master.”
After that time Daniel became, unfortunately, a constant visitor at the
house in Varennes Street.
He had not only obtained ample satisfaction at headquarters, but, by the
powerful influence of certain high personages, he had been temporarily
assigned to duty in the bureau of the navy department, with the promise
of a better position in active service hereafter.
Thus Daniel and Henrietta saw a great deal of each other, and, to all
appearances, began to love each other.
“O God!” thought the countess, “why are they not a few years older?”
The poor lady had for some months been troubled by dismal presentiments.
She felt as if she would not live long; and she trembled at the idea of
leaving her child without any other protector but the count.
If Henrietta had at least known the truth, and, instead of admiring her
father as a man of superior ability, learned to mistrust his judgment!
A hundred times the countess was on the point of revealing her secret.
Alas! her great delicacy always kept her from doing so.
One night, as she returned from a great ball, she suddenly was seized
with vertigo. She did not think much of it, but sent for a cup of tea.
When it came, she was standing before the fireplace, undoing her hair;
but, instead of taking it, she suddenly raised her hand to her throat,
uttered a hoarse sound, and fell back.
They raised her up. In an instant the whole house was alive. They sent
for the doctors. All was in vain.
The Countess Ville-Handry had died from disease of the heart.