A NEW ARRIVAL.
Our dear marquise--as you have realised ere this--satisfied the desire
of the eye in all ways, for, combined with beauty of feature and of
colour, was the suave sweetness of expression that is bred of the
domestic virtues. Had she been an abbess the odour of her sanctity
would have penetrated down to us in many a miraculous legend, and her
carved simulacrum would have stood in many a niche and sculptured
frieze along with those of other privileged young ladies. But she
could not guide a husband who needed a bridle rein, neither could she
decipher rebuses. The eccentric conduct of the versatile and too
inflammable abbe completely mystified her. Why had he in the firelight
resembled a satyr, to become in the morning so meek, and mild, and
saint-like? Perhaps her prayers had been answered and, seeing the
error of his ways, he had repented ere it was too late. It is
disconcerting when an amorous and fervid swain inflicts burning kisses
on your skin, and next day forgets the transgression. In the case of
Pharamond a marvel must have been worked, for never by wink of eyelid
did he attempt to recall his untoward proceedings during the storm.
The episode was washed clean away by the snowdrift. He was alert, and
lively, and amiable, as heretofore; always active in performing little
services, inventing some new comfort or pleasure, rallying the dull,
sympathizing with the weary. He knew better than to sit glum and
mumchance like the chevalier. Betrayed into error, he had accepted
rebuff like a gentleman, and by a marked increase of respect was
trying to win forgiveness. This was quite as it should be, and there
was no more to be said. And so, the clouds that threatened being
dissipated, the months of winter rolled away in so uniform a sequence
that their glassy flow seemed as if it must run for ever.
The marquis, influenced probably by his repentant brother, was amiable
enough. The two talked Mesmer all day long; formed plans for mutual
assistance: held lengthy conferences in the study, which always had,
now the satisfying result of improving Clovis's temper. The first
primrose had just emerged from its bed when the abbe announced one day
the portentous fact that the marquis was packing his valise.
"Packing his valise! Tired of the dulness of Lorge?" Gabrielle felt a
tinge of sadness at the thought. Why not have let things be? If there
was to be a change, would it be for better or worse?
"How silly you are!" observed Clovis, cheerfully, remarking her
wistful look. "Are we limpets glued to a rock? I am about to make a
little journey, quite a short one--the effect of which in the future
may transfigure the countenance of earth."
"You will not be absent long?" inquired the marquise, in a reproachful
tone.
"A couple of weeks at most. The fact is, that I am going to Spa, and
hope to bring back with me the assistant, without whom I can advance
no further."
"You said you did not object," murmured Pharamond, softly.
"Object? Certainly not. I said so long ago."
Clovis frowned. He did not like to be reminded of dependence just as
he was about to use his liberty.
"I have a hundred questions to ask, which must be answered by word of
mouth, and shall bring back such a budget of testimony as shall
surprise even you into belief. The country is distressingly quiet and
monotonous. You are not afraid, I suppose, to await my return under
the joint protection of my brothers?"
The abbe was innocently contemplating the tapestry opposite with rapt
interest; the chevalier was examining the floor. If the husband had
only known--how whimsical a question! Gabrielle glanced at one, then
at the other, with a tiny twinge of misgiving, which speedily gave way
to confidence, and replied simply--
"Oh, no; I am afraid of neither. Even if they attempted to do me harm,
and why should they? have I not Toinon at hand, and her no less
devoted lover?"
"Harm! From us!" echoed Pharamond, vastly tickled. "Phebus is an ogre
with great teeth and one blear eye, whilst I am the original
Croquemitaine, devourer of white-fleshed maidens."
"I have said I am not afraid of you," remarked the marquise, demurely.
"Jean Boulot, the devoted lover!" continued the playful abbe. "More
danger in his little finger, I warrant, than in both our bodies. While
you are absent, Clovis, I've half a mind to divert myself with pretty
Toinon; but, alas! I am in terror of her big surly bear. A brawny
malcontent! Only the other day I heard him deliver an address under
the village tree--such a compound of fire and brimstone--and I suppose
my smile was not respectful; for, catching my eye, he directed his
abuse at me, and poured forth such a scurrilous diatribe against our
class that I was glad enough to escape. Like everyone else, however,
he respects Gabrielle, and when he becomes aggressive, she shall
shield us from his wrath!"
The marquise was relieved, for this was a delicate way of hinting that
there was to be no recurrence of that scene. Why should she mind being
left with the brothers? Clovis, who did not shine as a protector,
might depart on his mission with a light heart, to return as soon as
possible wreathed with the laurels of success.
He went, and the household, after the small excitement of the
unimportant incident, returned to its monotony of peace. The brothers
treated their chatelaine with such an increase of punctilio and
ceremony as should perforce stop the idle gossip of provincial
busybodies. Even shrewd Toinon, who was of an unbelieving turn, and
never quite satisfied with regard to the honeyed churchman, looked on
the situation with approval.
The marquis had been absent three weeks when a messenger arrived with
a missive directed to the abbe. Gabrielle was in the moat garden
superintending the chevalier, who was occupied in the watering of
plants. Toinon was there, too, looking after Jean Boulot, as was her
duty, while he clipped and trimmed the hedges, with the prodigies
hanging to his coat-tails. The group made a charming picture of rural
bliss, such as it makes good the heart to look upon. Through the
postern-door leisurely emerged the abbe, gazing at a paper as he
descended the grassy slope with a scowl of genuine annoyance.
"What is it?" cried Gabrielle, turning pale. "Nothing wrong with
Clovis?"
"Everything wrong with Clovis," retorted Pharamond, testily. "He must
have lost his wits to be capable of such a proceeding."
"He is well?"
"Oh, yes; he is well."
"Then all is well."
"Is it? That remains to be shown. He will be home to-morrow at supper
time."
"Then all is well, indeed. The best of news!"
Delighted as she was, a pang shot through the heart of the marquise,
in that the absent one had elected to communicate with his brother
rather than his wife.
"Do you know?" she remarked with a smile, "that I am quite jealous. He
ought to have written to me."
"I suppose he had the decency to be ashamed, and so left it to me to
smooth the way for him. There is something here which I doubt your
liking. It was wrong--very, very wrong--not to have first consulted
_you_."
"What is it? Let me know, without all this parley. You torture me!"
"Well, the prodigal returns to-morrow--but not alone."
"I know that. He had full permission to hire an assistant. Are there
more? He is welcome to bring his friends."
"A female friend?"
"A woman!" ejaculated Gabrielle, dropping her garden scissors, while
Toinon stared, round-eyed.
"A woman!" echoed Pharamond, moved to real anger. "Was there ever
anything so ridiculous! a woman picked up at Spa!"
"What can she want here?' inquired Toinon.
"A protegee, it appears, of that infernal prophet," grumbled the abbe.
"Listen to what he says: 'Gabrielle will be charmed,' he writes
(double distilled blockhead), 'when she understands it all, for by a
most lucky chance, the presence of Mademoiselle Brunelle will serve a
double purpose. She is an adept of the first class, educated under the
eye of Mesmer himself, instructed in all the intricacies of animal
magnetism, and has, moreover, successfully followed the avocation of
governess. The dear children have outgrown the reach of my wife's
teaching, and Mademoiselle Brunelle can henceforth superintend their
studies.'"
Pharamond looked dubiously at his sister-in-law, who flushed red, then
paled. His annoyance was more than justified, for it was outrageous to
engage a resident governess without consulting the wife and mother.
And yet it might be for the best. The dear prodigies knew all that
poor Gabrielle could teach them, and in this remote spot it was
difficult without great expense to procure masters from Blois or
Tours. Clovis had been enabled to see and interview a lady, which was
better than taking her on trust by letter. The mother should have been
consulted, though, before entering on a definite engagement.
Toinon's indignation broke forth.
"Well, I'm sure," she sniffed, "what next. Stray women are to be
brought into the house without madame's sanction. If I were she, I'd
dispatch our Jean to bar the way, and forbid the baggage to approach.
Such impudence!"
In curbing the maid's zeal, Gabrielle convinced herself. The marquis
was master, and his will was law. He had been most wise and far-seeing
in thinking of the dear children's welfare. He had thought more of
them than she, who had twitted him with indifference. He had done
well, as always, and Toinon would perhaps be kind enough to stifle her
impertinence.
Toinon screwed up her lips, and muttered between her teeth, "Madame is
a saint too good for earth. She may endure the insult patiently, but I
shall hate the horrid woman from the very instant she arrives!"
It was evening when the wheels of the marquis's coach were heard
grinding on the gravel, and amid the din of servants moving trunks and
bundles, Gabrielle, who waited in the salon, was aware of a deep,
strong voice rapping out sharp orders like a rattle of artillery. "You
awkward loons!" it shouted, "be careful of that tub and its contents.
Are there not some other rascals somewhere who are less clumsy?"
Ere long, the voice was heard approaching up the stairs, along the
corridor, still grumbling noisily anent bucolic yokeldom, and, by and
by, a much cloaked figure loomed on the threshold, and straightway
went through the complicated evolutions of an elaborate and respectful
curtsey.
"Madame la Marquise, no doubt," said the deep, strong voice. "Madame's
humble and obedient servant. My name is Aglae Brunelle. Where are the
darling infants?"
The abruptness of the salutation amused Gabrielle.
The woman rejoiced in a fine figure, of somewhat large proportions, as
was evident when she unwound her wraps. Her complexion was dusky, her
hair and eyes coal black. Her mouth large, with full, red lips, which
contrasted well with the square white teeth behind. The thick,
straight eyebrows were endowed with a strange mobility which hinted at
habits of command curiously at variance with the position of the
new-comer. Her manner, however, towards the marquise was a miracle of
deportment. Submissive respect was deftly mingled with a tinge of
independent nonchalance, glossed over with an unconcealed admiration,
flattering to the beauty of the chatelaine.
"An oddity," thought Gabrielle, unconsciously relieved to perceive
that the large lady was uncomely.
"An ugly, insolent monster," was the uncompromising verdict of fierce
Toinon, who had scanned her from the top of the stairs.
Her noisy delight over the prodigies who had been kept up to make
acquaintance with their governess quite won the mother's heart. The
tall figure went down on its knees with a prodigious thump, and twined
them in its bare dark arms with a shower of kisses.
"The darlings--the cherubs--the pets," growled the strong voice, like
a muffled drum. "They will soon love their Aglae, will they not? I
knew that the offspring of a father like the good marquis and of so
divinely lovely a mother, must be angels--and they are--they are;"
another shower of kisses. "Madame la Marquise must forgive my
brusquerie, for I do so dote on children."
Here was an excellent beginning. The mother was gratified--the
father looked on the picturesque group with a broad smile of
self-complacency. It was evident for once that he had been extremely
clever. Mademoiselle's manners being peculiar, he had had misgivings
as to this first interview, but nothing could have gone better. The
lady was a marvel of intelligence! Of course she was--a favourite
pupil of Mesmer's, who knew his secrets, was mistress of his system.
From this day a new era was to dawn on gloomy Lorge. The new-comer was
an undoubted acquisition--just what was required to crown the family
edifice. All would go merrily now as marriage bells.
The astute abbe was puzzled by the governess. Her arrival upset all
his calculations. Clovis had never consulted him any more than
Gabrielle, and under a preoccupied manner, he had, on receipt of the
letter, been consumed by a white heat of rage. To dare to introduce a
foreign element without his consent! Had he been scheming all this
while to be baffled by a stranger? For surely in so small and retired
a household she would take a prominent part. Would the woman turn out
friend or foe? He had deemed the dreamy Clovis well under his thumb
for life. The chevalier was a mere pawn upon the board. Since playing
that false move on the night of the storm, he had employed all his
arts to lull Gabrielle's suspicions, and had succeeded beyond
expectation. That a head so cool as his should for once so betray its
owner! A little patience. So delicious a prize was worth working and
waiting for, and trying for again and again. Of different grit to the
chevalier, he was not one to submit to defeat on a first repulse. No:
his appetite was whetted. The morsel should be his and only his, as he
had openly sworn; and would be all the more enjoyable for a little
vexatious waiting.
Thus had he arranged the future in his mind. But now, what of the
governess? This unexpected move must be met somehow. Would it be well
to form an alliance with her, or must she be promptly ousted? Her
character must be studied with care. Evidently by nature domineering,
what would be her attitude to him? Could she be frightened and
brow-beaten? Not likely. Would she endeavour to undermine the
influence he had already gained in order to reign alone? Probably.
At the thought the abbe's eyes gleamed cat-like, and his thin lips
tightened over grinding teeth. Turned out by a scheming stranger, and
when all promised so well. To be turned out meant ruin, for things in
the south had been going so wrong during the last six months, had
become so much worse since the period of their hurried flight from
Toulouse, that both brothers were quite dependent on the marquis. To
be ejected now, or later, by the large dark hand of the unwelcome
Aglae would mean pecuniary undoing, and the loss of the sweet morsel
as well. Resign Gabrielle? Never! How to manage, then? The marquise
was inclined to be friendly with the interloper, which showed a too
Christian frame of mind to cope with mundane buffeting. This must be
combated at once, lest it should become necessary before long to make
a combined effort for the annihilation of the intruder.
What had the baleful woman come for to this dismal and remote retreat?
Why had Mesmer thrust his protegee upon the neophyte? With curses the
abbe admitted inwardly that he was himself at the bottom of the
imbroglio. With the idea of dividing the husband from the wife for
ever, he had conceived the plan of burying Clovis so deep in mysticism
that he might never be pulled out of the slough, and to that end had
suggested an assistant who should be taught to play upon his foibles.
But who could be expected to foresee that the adept would take the
form of a woman?
Of course, the woman was a greedy adventuress in search of flesh-pots,
and had gauged aright the feeble and vacillating character of the
young Marquis de Gange. She was evidently extremely gifted and he the
dullest of good-looking dogs. Already he was dazzled by the jewels of
a varied experience which she threw about so freely, and began to
babble exasperating nonsense of having met his "Affinity" at last!
That she had some deep design on hand was evident, for she laid
herself out to dazzle the besotted Clovis, and succeeded but too well.
If it were not so, what could the motive of so brilliant a person be
for deliberately banishing herself to this hermitage? She had
certainly not jogged along those rugged roads for the edification of
two strange children, however abnormally cherubic.
In the struggle which must come, simple Gabrielle would be worsted.
Beauty and honest innocence alone are never a match for intellect,
even when combined with outward homeliness. Aglae Brunelle was not
absolutely ugly, and yet by no means pretty; but when a superior mind
shines through a face, however plain, does it not light the features
with a beauty all its own? Toinon had learnt that long since, and used
it, as we have seen, for a text.
The more he thought the matter over, the more puzzled grew the abbe;
the more angry with himself and dissatisfied. A very few days after
the arrival of Mademoiselle, her pervading presence began to be felt
by the entire household in a way that maddened Pharamond. It was like
the mysterious action of yeast on dough. As outwardly respectful and
submissive as a dependent should be, everybody came to feel that
orders emanated from her. Was the fascination due to an occult power
inoculated by the prophet? Even the scoffing abbe began to wonder
whether there was something serious underlying the antics of the
charlatan, after all. Certain it was that she did possess a power, but
whether due to magnetism or strong will, it was hard to determine. The
abbe's will was as tough as hers, he was proud to think, but instinct
told him that a struggle between the two would be exhausting to both,
and that none might prophesy the result. Better an alliance, if she,
like him, was working on a web. But would she brook a divided sway?
Was _he_ prepared to accept so unsatisfactory an arrangement? How
exasperating, that just as the horizon seemed so clear, the sky so
cloudless, a thunderbolt should come out of the blue to play havoc
with all his combinations.
What of Gabrielle? His schemes revolved around her. Thanks to his
cleverness he and she had tranquilly resumed their old relations. He
did not propose to be content to read poetry for ever. A time was to
come when she was to return the burning kisses he had impressed upon
her shoulder, and twine her arms about his neck; and that longed-for
moment was no nearer now than months ago. To tame the fluttering bird
to his will he must do a little squeezing, after all, and make up by
the ardour of the future for the painful proceedings of the present.
Yes, Gabrielle must be gently racked, be made familiar with tweaks and
pains. A little twist or two and a tug of ropes just to hint of such a
tearing as was possible. Perhaps the governess, if an alliance could
be brought about, might become a useful agent instead of a kill-joy.
Isolated on all sides, the Marquise de Gange must be thrown on her
dear friend the abbe for protection; then the rest would quite
naturally follow.
Among other things the accomplished Aglae was a skilled musician, and
this became a new and unexpected bond between her and the enchanted
marquis. She could rattle off by heart on the spinet all Lulli and
Glueck, could even improvise entrancing accompaniments to airs hitherto
unknown to her. She loved music, and considered the violoncello to be
the most soul-stirring if sad of instruments. Sometimes her hands
would slide from the keys while a great sigh burst from her capacious
bosom, and the marquis looking up would perceive tears rolling down
her cheeks. "It is nothing, but I do love it so," she would snuffle
incoherently, and then resume the improvising with eyes and nose
unbecomingly roseate and swollen.
What with the music (Gabrielle of course, retired into space at the
first scratching of the 'cello) and experiments with the bucket, and
abstruse instructions as to laying on of hands, and the careful study
of Mesmer's now frequent letters, the marquis and the governess were
constantly thrown together. To flirt with your affinity--two souls
denuded of their earthy envelope, side by side on a sofa--may have its
delights; but surely to commune together in the flesh at all hours has
conspicuous advantages.
On the day after her arrival Gabrielle had courteously volunteered to
show mademoiselle over the castle, and that lady had overawed her
hostess by the variety and minuteness of her knowledge, and bewildered
her with searching questions. The abbe, looking on, had pointed out to
the chevalier (who, gooseberry-eyed, saw nothing) the amusing contrast
presented by the two ladies.
Gabrielle was a _Greuze_, without that painter's namby-pamby softness;
so fair a thing that the hours almost turned laggard on their plodding
way to gaze at her. Tall, slim, erect, with a carriage which is a gift
at birth and can never be mimicked by a parvenue; a perfect figure; a
colour borrowed from an unopened moss-rose; an expression of calm, as
of an unrippled sea in a land-locked bay. By her side moved Aglae
Brunelle--taller still, broad-shouldered; with a waist of smaller
dimensions than might be expected from the massive moulding of the
limbs; an expression changing each moment according to the object
brought under the beady eyes; a heavy swinging gait, and a trick of
tossing the head. There was something that pleased by its oddity, and
was as effective in its way as the sweeping erectness of her
companion.
Aglae insisted upon going everywhere, and delivered a running lecture
as she went, impressing points with a straight dark finger,
square-tipped. From the turret window she delivered herself of a
lesson in geography, showing that she knew more about the vicinity of
the Loire than those who dwelt there. She vowed it was a shame to have
walled up the dungeons, for in one (unless she was misinformed) was a
crucifix carved with reverent care out of the stone, by the broken
knife blade of a despairing prisoner. Then, the survey over, she
declared she had not seen the most interesting object of all. What was
that? Why! the school-room of the prodigies; what else? Was she not
here to teach their minds to shoot, and was it not most important that
the scene of the operation should be selected with consummate care?
There was no school-room--only a nursery! Then and there so crying a
defect should be remedied. Madame would forgive her energy,
recognizing the importance of the subject? Madame was so beautiful and
indulgent to a poor stranger that there was no doubt of it. The
darlings must have every advantage. Did not madame think so? Of course
she did. Then off stumped Mademoiselle Brunelle, shaking the floor as
though a colossal statue had been endowed with movement, and the big
voice was heard in thunder presently, shouting out peremptory commands
about curtains and chairs and tables.
Who was to resist this interloper? Gabrielle, though she felt nettled
at being taken despotically in hand, and thrust aside, was not
prepared to interfere, for manifestly the arrangements were for the
good of the darlings. The new broom was sweeping so very clean, that
compunction invaded the maternal bosom, in that she had been remiss in
not sufficiently considering the extent of the cherubic wants.
Established in the best room on the ground floor to her satisfaction,
surrounded with pictures and statuettes and ornamental nicknacks
ravished from other chambers, Mademoiselle Brunelle let all and sundry
know that here was her especial stronghold which none would invade
with impunity.
Nevertheless, the Marquise de Gange, who did not understand that such
an _ukase_ could possibly refer to her, prepared herself to assist at
the lessons of the dear ones and to watch the process of shooting,
and she was no little taken aback at the arbitrary proceedings
of the governess. At first she took no notice of sour smiles and
head-tossings, whereupon mademoiselle thought fit to dot her _i_'s,
and bluntly inform madame with that queer mixture of respect and
independence, in which the latter was beginning to preponderate, that
it was a troublesome matter to instruct youth in complicated subjects
in the presence of an ignorant mother.
"Do consider, madame," she observed, saucily, "how humiliating for you
it will be, if they discover how little you know!"
Gabrielle bowed her head and blushingly admitted her shortcomings. "I
too can learn," she murmured with meekness, "and you will find me an
anxious pupil;" but somehow whenever the rustle of her dress was heard
in the corridor, the cherubs unaccountably began their music lesson;
and when, remarking the fact, she requested that in future the
scraping of Victor's violin might be exchanged for more delectable
study, mademoiselle raised her mobile thatch of brow, and curtly
declared that she took orders only from the marquis.
Gabrielle left the school-room humbled and bewildered, for a novel
idea had been thrust on her which her loyal nature refused to
entertain. Clovis could not have introduced this new factor into the
household for the purpose of annoying his wife! Everyone admitted that
he was a good man, if selfish and somewhat unpractical.
He did not wish this creature to stand betwixt a mother and her babes?
Surely not. The suspicion was unworthy of a true wife, and banished as
soon as formed. There was a mistake somewhere. The woman meant well,
but was officious. Clovis occupy himself about such domestic details!
Why, he rarely took notice of the children at all, unless worried into
doing so. Why should he show interest now--since the arrival of this
person? Pondering over this problem in confused pain between the
alleys of the moated garden, the marquise endeavoured to reassure
herself. Could she be so foolish as to be growing jealous of a
stranger who, it could not be denied, was acting for the best? It was
perfectly true that the marquise knew nothing of the subjects that
were being taught by Aglae, and it was genuinely kind of her not to
let the cherubs see that their erudition overtopped their mother's.
And yet--the hireling had been sadly rude to the mother in the
presence of the darlings.
"You are agitated, sweet sister?" whispered the abbe, coming softly up
behind across the grass--his soft hands in a dainty muff, for it was
chilly--and beaming down on her. "Do you know that I've been following
these five minutes without obtaining a hearing?"
He looked so kind, had behaved with such discretion since his mistake,
that her chilled heart warmed to him. Her lips trembled, and she burst
into a flood of tears. His fingers clutched within the muff (oh! how
like the vulture's talons!) as though he would have clasped her to his
breast and held her there; but with a supreme effort he restrained the
impulse. "Not yet; not yet," he murmured to himself, as hearkening to
her artless tale with anxious mien he gazed in silence across the
swiftly-flowing Loire.
"I fear your suspicion is well founded, and that Clovis wishes it," he
murmured shortly, when she had finished; then, taking her cold hand in
his, he led her through the postern to a spot which overlooked the
cherubic sanctuary.
Clovis sat by the spinet, beating time with a roll of music--the
divine afflatus heavy on him--while the pair of angels played.
"She got rid of you on purpose; drove you out, to be untrammelled in
her intercourse with him!" whispered the abbe with compassion.
"My children!" moaned the chatelaine, aghast. "Why can it be his wish
that she should take them from me, their mother?"