ZIBELINE RECEIVES
The Duchesse de Montgeron had no children, and her most tender affections
were concentrated upon her husband and her brother. The scruples which
caused the latter to forswear matrimony grieved her deeply, for, knowing
the inflexibility of his character, she was sure that no one in the world
could make him alter his decision.
Thus, on one side the title of the Duc de Montgeron was destined to pass
to a collateral branch of the family; and on the other, the title of
Marquis de Prerolles would become extinct with the General.
But, although she now considered it impossible to realize the project
which she had momentarily cherished, she continued to show the same
kindness to Mademoiselle de Vermont. She would have regarded any other
course as unworthy of her, since she had made the first advances;
moreover, the young girl's nature was so engaging that no one who
approached her could resist her charm.
Very reserved or absolutely frank, according to the degree of confidence
with which she was treated, Valentine had sufficient intuition to avoid a
lack of tact.
She was, in feminine guise, like 'L'Ingenu' of Voltaire, struck, as was
Huron, with all that was illogical in our social code; but she did not
make, after his fashion, a too literal application of its rules, and knew
where to draw the line, if she found herself on the point of making some
hazardous remark, declaring frankly: "I was about to say something
foolish!" which lent originality to her playful conversation.
After receiving from Valentine's hands the contract signed in presence of
the notary, for the benefit of the Orphan Asylum, the president of the
society did not fail to give a dinner in honor of the new patroness.
As she was a foreigner she was placed in the seat of honor at the table,
to the great displeasure of Madame Desvanneaux, who was invited to take
the second place, in spite of her title of vice-president.
"It is because of her millions that she was placed before me," she said
in an undertone to her husband, as soon as the guests had returned to the
drawing-room. And, giving orders that her carriage should be summoned
immediately, she left the house without speaking to any one, and with the
air of a peeress of England outraged in her rights of precedence!
This was, for the hostile pair, a new cause of grievance against
Zibeline. When she, in her turn, gave at her home a similar dinner,
a fortnight later, she received from them, in reply to her invitation,
which was couched in the most courteous terms, a simple visiting card,
with the following refusal: "The Comte and the Comtesse Desvanneaux, not
being in the habit of accepting invitations during Lent, feel constrained
to decline that of Mademoiselle de Vermont."
The dinner was only the more gay and cordial.
Valentine's household was conducted on a footing more elegant than
sumptuous.
The livery was simple, but the appearance of her people was
irreproachable. The butler and the house servants wore the ordinary
dress-coat and trousers; the powdered footmen wore short brown coats,
ornamented, after the English fashion, with metal buttons and a false
waistcoat; the breeches were of black velveteen, held above the knee by a
band of gold braid, with embroidered ends, which fell over black silk
stockings. At the end of the ante-chamber where this numerous personnel
was grouped, opened a long gallery, ornamented with old tapestries
representing mythological subjects in lively and well-preserved coloring.
This room, which was intended to serve as a ballroom at need, was next to
two large drawing-rooms. The walls of one were covered with a rich
material, on which hung costly paintings; the furniture and the ceiling
of the other were of oak, finely carved, relieved with touches of gold in
light and artistic design.
Everywhere was revealed an evident desire to avoid an effect of heaviness
and ostentation, and this was especially noticeable in the dining-room,
where the pure tone of the panels and the moulding doubled the intensity
of the light thrown upon them. Upon the table the illumination of the
apartment was aided by two large candelabra of beautifully chiselled
silver, filled with candles, the light of which filtered through a forest
of diaphanous little white shades.
The square table was a veritable parterre of flowers, and was laid for
twelve guests, three on each side.
The young mistress of the house was seated on one side, between the Duc
de Montgeron and the Marquis de Prerolles. Facing her sat the Duchesse
de Montgeron, between General Lenaieff and the Chevalier de Sainte-Foy.
--Laterally, on one hand appeared Madame de Lisieux, between M. de
Nointel and the painter Edmond Delorme; on the other, Madame de Nointel,
between M. de Lisieux and the Baron de Samoreau.
Never, during the six weeks that Valentine had had friendly relations
with the Duchess, had she appeared so self-possessed, or among
surroundings so well fitted to display her attractions of mind and of
person. She was a little on the defensive on finding herself in this new
and unexpected society, but she felt, this evening, that she was in the
midst of a sympathetic and admiring circle, and did the honors of her own
house with perfect ease, finding agreeable words and showing a delicate
forethought for each guest, and above all displaying toward her
protectress a charming deference, by which the Duchess felt herself
particularly touched.
"What a pity!" she said to herself, glancing alternately at Zibeline and
at her brother, between whom a tone of frank comradeship had been
established, free from any coquetry on her side or from gallantry on his.
The more clearly Henri divined the thoughts of his sister, the more he
affected to remain insensible to the natural seductions of his neighbor,
to whom Lenaieff, on the contrary, addressed continually, in his soft and
caressing voice, compliments upon compliments and madrigals upon
madrigals!
"Take care, my dear Constantin!" said Henri to him, bluntly. "You will
make Mademoiselle de Vermont quite impossible. If you go on thus, she
will take herself seriously as a divinity!"
"Fortunately," rejoined Zibeline, "you are there, General, to remind me
that I am only a mortal, as Philippe's freedman reminded his master every
morning."
"You can not complain! I serve you as a confederate, to allow you to
display your erudition," retorted the General, continuing his persiflage.
But he, too, was only a man, wavering and changeable, to use Montaigne's
expression, for his eyes, contradicting the brusqueness of his speech,
rested long, and not without envy, on this beautiful and tempting fruit
which his fate forbade him to gather. The more he admired her freshness,
and the more he inhaled her sweetness, the more the image of Eugenie
Gontier was gradually effaced from his memory, like one of those tableaux
on the stage, which gauze curtains, descending from the flies, seem to
absorb without removing, gradually obliterating the pictures as they
fall, one after another.