Five years had glided by since the eventful incidents related in the
preceding chapters, and another anniversary of the Versailles disaster
had been added to the list.
It was about nine o'clock in the evening, and a tall, slender brunette,
of elegant form and figure, whose beautiful face expressed intelligence
and firmness both, was giving the finishing touches to a dazzling
toilette. She was assisted in this serious and important occupation by
two skillful maids, one of whom was clasping a necklace of large,
sparkling diamonds around the white throat of her charming mistress,
while the other adjusted a magnificent diadem of the same precious
stones on the raven black hair.
The choice of these diamonds had evidently been made after much
deliberation, for a number of jewel cases, containing pearls, rubies,
and other precious ornaments of enormous value, still lay open on a
toilet table near by.
One of the maids, being much older than her companion, and having been
in the service of her mistress for many years, seemed to enjoy a
certain degree of familiarity near the countess--who was a Russian as
well as herself--which permitted her many observations not usually
tolerated from her class.
"Does madame like the diadem as it is now?" she asked in her own tongue.
"Well enough," replied Countess Zomaloff, nonchalantly, casting a last
glance at the large mirror before her. "Where is my bouquet?"
"Here, madame."
"Heavens! how frightfully yellow and faded it is!" cried the countess,
shrinking back.
"The duke has just sent it," ventured the maid.
"I recognize his good taste," said the countess sarcastically, as she
shrugged her pretty shoulders disdainfully. "I would wager the flowers
were ordered yesterday morning by some lover who broke off with his
mistress during the day, and consequently did not call for them in the
evening. The Duke de Riancourt is the only man in the world capable of
discovering such bargains!"
"Ah! madame, can you believe he would economize to that point?"
protested the maid. "He is so rich!"
"That makes it only the more probable."
A rap on the door of the boudoir adjoining the dressing-room,
interrupted the conversation, and the French maid vanished, returning
almost immediately with the information that the duke had arrived and
was at madame's orders.
"Let him wait," observed the countess carelessly. "Is the princess in
the drawing-room?"
"Yes, madame."
"Very well--here Katinka, clasp this bracelet," resumed the countess,
addressing the Russian maid in her own language once more, "and see
what time it is."
Katinka turned to the clock and was opening her lips to reply, when her
mistress forestalled her by saying, with a mocking smile:
"After all, why should I make such an inquiry. The duke has just
arrived, half-past nine must--"
The half-hour stroke from the clock on the chimney interrupted her, and
she broke into a merry, rippling laugh.
"What did I tell you, Katinka," she laughed, "the duke is a veritable
clock in exactitude."
"It proves his love and devotion, madame," rejoined the maid.
"I would prefer a less well-regulated love, Katinka," retorted the
countess. "These persons who worship at fixed hours seem to have a
watch where the heart ought to be. There now, I am almost sorry to be
so completely dressed and ready, and to have no excuse to make that
poor duke wait longer to reward him for his pitiless exactitude."
"But, madame," remonstrated the maid, "if you dislike him so, why do
you marry him?"
"Why?" echoed the countess, absent-mindedly, giving another glance at
the mirror; "why do I marry M. de Riancourt? Really, Katinka, you are
more inquisitive than I am; does one ever know why one marries?"
"Everybody seems to think there exist excellent reasons for this
marriage, nevertheless," pursued Katinka. "Although M. de Riancourt
has no gold mines in Crimea, silver mines in the Ural Mountains,
diamond--"
"In mercy, Katinka, don't go over the list of my riches!" cried the
countess, impatiently.
"Well, madame, although the duke has not your immense possessions, he
is one of the wealthiest and greatest noblemen in France; he is young
and handsome, has never led a dissipated life, and--"
"And he is worthy of wearing a wreath of orange blossoms on our wedding
day--a right which I have not; but, in heaven's name, spare me his
virtues. My aunt sounds his praises loud enough without assistance."
"Yes, the princess is very fond of monsieur le duc, and she is not the
only one who--"
"Give me a cloak," interrupted her mistress, "the night is chilly."
"Has madame given her orders for the twentieth of the month?" went on
the persistent maid.
"What orders?"
"Has madame forgotten that her marriage takes place a week from to-day?"
"What! a week from to-day?--so soon!"
"Madame fixed the date for May 20, and this is May 12--"
"If I said the twentieth, I suppose it must be on the twentieth--give
me my fan."
The maid brought a collection of magnificent fans and placed them
before her mistress to allow her to make a choice.
"How singular," murmured the countess, half to herself, as she picked
out a veritable Watteau from the rich collection; "I am young and free,
and abhor constraint, yet I have chosen a master."
"A master!" exclaimed Katinka. "Why, the duke is so good and kind,
madame! You will make whatever you wish of him."
"I shall never make an agreeable man of him; and yet, I shall marry
him. Ah! my good aunt, your advice may cause me to commit a great
folly," she added, half laughing, half serious, as she gazed
mechanically at the mischievous little god of love on her fan. "I made
a blind choice among men equal in rank and riches, all so mediocre and
uninteresting that it mattered not which I chose. This was the motive
of my preference for M. de Riancourt, Katinka. Besides, although
marriage has its inconveniences, widowhood has still greater ones. So,
it is the better to marry, after all; it saves the trouble of wondering
what we shall do."
Having thus summarily settled this question, Countess Zomaloff
proceeded to the drawing-room, where she found her aunt and the duke
awaiting her.
Princess Wileska was a tall, distingué woman, with powdered hair and
imposing presence, who presented a striking contrast to the meagre
personage engaged in conversation with her. The Duke de Riancourt was
a small, nervous man of thirty years or thereabouts, with a
sanctimonious, unctuous mien, shifting eyes and long, smooth hair,
carefully parted near the middle of the forehead, and a rigidity of
movement that showed great empire over himself.
As the countess entered, he advanced toward her slowly, bowed low and
raised her pretty hand to his lips with respectful courtesy; then,
straightening himself up, he gazed at her for a moment as if dazzled,
and cried, admiringly: "Ah! countess, I have never seen these
diamonds! I don't believe you could find their equal anywhere.
Heavens! how beautiful, how magnificent they are!"
"Really, my dear duke," rejoined the countess, with well feigned
embarrassment, "I am much confused--that is, for the jeweler who sold
them to me--one could never be more gallant than you; and since these
diamonds cause you so much tender emotion, inspire such gracious
compliments, such ingenious flattery, I can do no less than confide to
you the charming name of the bewitching lapidary--his name is _Ezechiel
Rabotautencraff_, and he resides in Frankfort."
While the amazed duke was searching a reply to this sarcastic sally,
the princess gave a reproachful glance to her niece; then, turning to
the discomfited nobleman with a forced smile, said playfully:
"How much Foedora does like to tease you, my dear duke. This is her
way of showing her affection to those she loves."
"I will humbly confess, my dear princess," said the duke, anxious to
repair his awkward blunder, "that I was so dazzled by those magnificent
stones that, for a moment, I forgot to render homage to the charms of
the wearer. But--but--may not one be dazzled by the sun while gazing
at a charming flower?"
"I find your comparison of the sunstroke and the flower so gallant and
to the point," retorted the malicious young woman, "that I am tempted
to believe it was this very same sunstroke that so outrageously
withered these poor flowers," and a gay ripple of laughter broke from
her lips, as she pointed to the faded blossoms sent by the duke that
evening.
The unfortunate man flushed to the roots of his hair, while the
princess frowned at her irrepressible niece.
"Pray offer your arm to my aunt, my dear duke," resumed the countess,
totally indifferent to the divers emotions she had caused.
"I promised the embassadress de Sardaigne I would come early, as she is
to present me to a relative, and, as you know, we must first visit that
enchanted palace you spoke of, in all its details. This is an odd time
for such a visit, it is true; but I admit I have a weakness or, rather,
a passion, for anything odd. Originality is such a rare, charming
thing!"
Preceding her aunt and the duke, the bewitching countess ran lightly
down the wide stairs of the elegantly furnished house she had rented in
the Rue de Rivoli, while in search of the mansion she wished to
purchase in Paris.
On that evening the duke was to take his friends out in his own
carriage; a very permissible liberty, since the bans of his marriage
with the countess had already been published. After a few moments of
waiting at the door of the mansion, the aunt and niece saw an enormous
yellow landau advancing toward them, drawn by two emaciated horses
mercilessly lashed by a coachman in red and blue livery.
"Why--this is not your carriage?" gasped the countess, gazing at the
duke in amazement as the footman opened the _portière_ of the vehicle.
"Certainly, madame," he replied. "And what has become of that pretty
blue victoria, with the dapple grays, you placed at our disposal
yesterday morning?"
"Under the present condition of affairs, my dear countess, I may as
well make a clean breast of it," rejoined the duke, with touching
_abandon_. "That I may not fatigue my valuable horses--for they did
cost me enormously--I hire a carriage for the evening. This is a great
point of economy, for it is always a risk to take out a valuable
turnout at night."
"You are perfectly right, my dear duke," the princess hastened to say,
fearing a new sarcasm from her niece; and, without further ado, she
entered the heavy, lumbering thing, leaning on the arm of her escort.
The duke then offered his hand to the countess to assist her in her
turn; but she stopped with one dainty foot resting on the last step,
and peered curiously within.
"My dear aunt," she said sweetly, "will you be kind enough to examine
the carriage well?"
"Why, my dear," asked the princess naïvely.
"Because I am afraid some freckled, red-headed miss, or some fat city
merchant may have been forgotten in some obscure corner of this thing.
These worthy people usually drive out in family parties in just such
equipages, and I have a horrible fear of finding some of them under the
seats."
"Really, Foedora, I fail to understand you," returned the princess,
angrily, while her niece sank in the seat beside her with a laugh.
"You are absurdly severe toward M. de Riancourt--what can you be
thinking of?"
"I want to cure him of his meanness and impudence," retorted the
countess, coolly. "Could I better prove my interest in him?"
At that moment the duke entered the carriage and took his seat opposite
the princess and her niece. Though he seemingly endured with the most
Christianly patience all the railleries of the young woman who
possessed all kinds of precious mines, the furtive glance he cast on
her now and then, and the contraction of his thin lips, betrayed the
rancour that filled his heart and foreboded no good for the future.
"To the Ramon mansion," he ordered the footman, who stood at the door.
"Beg pardon, monsieur, but I don't know where it is," replied the man,
respectfully.
"At the end of the _Cours-la-Reine_, in the direction of the quartier
_Jean-Gonjan_," explained the duke.
"Monsieur means that large mansion which has been in course of
construction for so many years?"
"That very place," assented the duke.
The footman closed the carriage door, gave his instructions to the
coachman, who lashed his jaded horses, and the lumbering landau started
in the direction of _Cours-la-Reine_, where the marvelous Saint-Ramon
mansion was situated.