THE ARISTOCRATS IN AMERICA.
While Maurice was applying himself to study with a zeal and sense of
enjoyment wholly new to him, Bertha was passing through various stages
of ennui, and testing the patience, or rather the digestive powers, of
that sorely discomforted _bon vivant_, her uncle. Day after day she grew
more capricious, unreasonable, unmanageable.
The distressed marquis came to the conclusion that his disturbed animal
economy could only be restored by an amicable separation from his niece.
But in vain he bestowed his smiles, and his _dinners_, upon the
multitudinous suitors by whom the young heiress was besieged; her
autocratic decree condemned him to the cruel duty of closing the
sumptuous repasts by the _dessert_ of a dismissal to each lover in turn,
without extending to any the faintest hope that his sentence might be
reversed. Finally the marquis became a confirmed dyspeptic; the joy of
his life was quenched when his appetite failed, beyond the resuscitating
influence of _absenthe_ and other fashionable stimulants; the glory of
his festive board had departed, and he was haunted by the conviction
that the unnatural conduct of his niece would bring his whitening hairs,
through sorrow and indigestion, to the grave.
A small but dearly prized respite from his trials was granted him when
Bertha paid her yearly visit, of four months, to her relatives in
Brittany. Her stay, however, was never extended beyond the wonted
period, for she found her sojourn at the Château de Gramont
unmitigatedly dull. The reception of letters from Maurice, addressed to
his father, alone relieved the tediousness of the hours; but these
welcome messengers were infrequent, brief, and somewhat cold. They left
Bertha so unsatisfied that before the close of the first year of her
cousin's absence she opened a correspondence with him herself. The
initiative letter was suggested by pleasant tidings, which she hastened
to send. It was written immediately after the eighteenth anniversary of
her birthday, and communicated the agreeable intelligence that upon that
day she had again received a token of remembrance from their beloved
Madeleine.
A yearly gift, bearing the impress of those "fairy fingers," was the
only sign Madeleine gave that she lived and remembered.
Three years passed on, and upon each birthday, wherever Bertha chanced
to be, in Bordeaux, in Paris, in Brittany, a small parcel was
mysteriously left with the _concierge_ of the house where she was
residing. The package was always addressed in Madeleine's handwriting,
and contained some exquisite piece of needle-work, but no letter, and it
bore no mark of post or express. It was invariably delivered by private
hand. At least, it rendered certain the consolatory facts, not only that
Bertha was unforgotten, but that Madeleine was cognizant of all her
movements.
No sooner had the heiress reached her majority than she prepared to
carry into execution a plan which for a long period had been silently
forming itself in her mind. Her earnest desire to visit America had been
secretly, but systematically, strengthened by Count Tristan. He well
knew that the Marquis de Merrivale would never be induced to become her
escort; and, what was more likely than that she should seek the
countenance and protection of her other relatives?
He played his cards so adroitly that Bertha, without once suspecting his
machinations, wrote to him, on the very day that closed her twenty-first
year, and invited the countess and himself to accompany her upon an
American tour. She took care delicately to make a stipulation that the
expenses of the projected trip should devolve upon her. The count
concealed his exultation under an air of well-acted reluctance, and
required much persuasion before he could be taught to look with favor
upon this _unexpected_ and _sudden_ proposition.
There was no simulation in the dismay, the horror with which Bertha's
proposal was greeted by the countess. How was she to breathe in a land
where hereditary claims to rank were unknown?--where distinctions of
_brains_ not _blood_ were alone recognized?--where a man might rise to
the highest position, as ruler of the realm, though his father chanced
to be a mechanic, and his grandfather's existence was untraceable? For a
time, Bertha's entreaties and the count's representations were equally
impotent; the countess was inexorable. But her son was not to be
baffled; he found an avenue through which her heart could be reached,
and her resolution undermined. It lay in the suggestion that Bertha's
strong inclination to visit America sprang from a desire again to behold
Maurice, and that the result of their meeting, after so long a
separation, might be in the highest degree felicitous. Bertha, he urged,
during the absence of Maurice, had probably learned that he was dearer
to her than she imagined; and, if Maurice had reason to believe that she
crossed the ocean for the sake of rejoining him, could he remain
insensible to such a proof of devotion? The countess bowed her haughty
head to a sacrifice which vitally compromised her dignity.
One of the objects of the count's visit to America was to learn
something further of the railroad company with which he was connected.
For a time its operations had been suspended, owing to a financial
crisis,--a sort of periodical American epidemic that, like cholera,
sweeps over the land at intervals, making frightful ravage for a season,
and departing as mysteriously as it came. The elastic nation, never long
prostrate, had risen out of temporary difficulties and depression with a
sudden bound, and prosperity walked in the very footprints of the late
destroyer.
Mr. Hilson had lately announced to Count Tristan that the railway
association was again in full activity, and that the mooted question of
the direction which the road ought to take would, ere long, be decided.
He added that, according to his judgment, the left road was indubitably
the more desirable. Should that road be chosen, it would pass through
the property owned by the Viscount de Gramont. We have already alluded
to the immense difference in the value of the estate which the advent of
the railroad would insure.
Bertha had no difficulty in obtaining the Marquis de Merrivale's
approval of the contemplated trip.
Early in the spring the party embarked upon one of those superb steamers
that sweep across the ocean like floating cities, pulsating with
multitudinous life.
The passage was so smooth that Bertha thoroughly enjoyed the strange,
new existence, and found such ever-varying beauty in the gorgeous
sunsets, and the resplendent moonlight, that she even forsook her berth
to see "Aurora draw aside her crimson curtain of the dawn;" in short she
was in an appreciating mood throughout the voyage, and her happy state
allowed her to ignore all the _désagreméns_ of the sea. The countess
also, as she sat upon the deck in a comfortable arm-chair,--which she
occupied as though it were a throne, and received the homage of
fellow-passengers, who were obviously struck and awed by her majestic
deportment,--pronounced the transit more endurable than she anticipated.
Maurice had gone to New York to welcome the voyagers, and when the
steamer neared the land he was the first person who bounded upon the
deck. Bertha caught sight of him, and as she sprang forward and threw
herself into his arms, weeping with joy and heartily returning his warm
embrace, the countess and her son exchanged looks of exultation which
showed that they had not reflected upon the vast distinction between the
frank greeting of brother and sister, and the meeting of possible
lovers.
A slight, irrepressible shadow passed over the beaming countenance of
Maurice as he turned from Bertha to welcome his father and grandmother.
The cloud flitted by in an instant, and only betrayed that the past was
unforgotten; while the look of manly confidence and self-possession, by
which it was replaced, told that the present and the future could not be
subject to by-gone storms.
After the first salutations were over, the countess scanned Maurice from
head to foot, to note what changes had been wrought by his residence in
a country which she held in such supreme contempt. The slight curl and
quivering of the lip, which accompanied her survey, bespoke that it was
not entirely satisfactory. In the first place, his apparel displeased
her. The care that he had once bestowed upon his toilet betrayed a
slight leaning to the side of foppishness; _now_, his attire gave him
the air of a man of business, rather than of mere pleasure. His bearing
was more confident than in former days, his movements more rapid, his
tone more animated and decisive, his whole manner more energetic. His
face was slightly careworn, his brow had lost something of its unruffled
smoothness, and the fresh carnation tints had faded out of his
complexion; but the wealth of expression his countenance had gained
might atone for heavier losses. In repose, his features wore a shade of
habitual sadness; but that disappeared the moment he spoke, and was
rather an air of reflection than of sorrow. Indeed, all gloom had
vanished from his spirit soon after his arrival in America. The
hope-inspiring ministry of Ronald's mother, first and engrossing study,
and ceaseless occupation next, had effectually medicined his growing
melancholy. Maurice had not felt himself a homeless exile during his
four years' sojourn in a foreign land. The Château de Gramont was less
dear to him than the quiet, unpretentious, but affection-brightened home
where he was always welcomed as a son.
When his stately grandmother, after so long a separation, once more
appeared before him, the cold dignity, repelling hardness, and
self-venerating pride of her demeanor struck him all the more painfully
because it conjured up, in contrast, a vision of soft humility,--the
gentle strength, the intellectual power, the refined tenderness of the
lovely woman who realized his ideal of maternity.
It almost seemed as though the countess had some internal perception
that Maurice weighed her in the balance of a new judgment, and found her
wanting; for she shrank beneath his gaze, and turned from him with a
sense of sickening disappointment.
Bertha, while she was struck by the marked alteration in Maurice, noted
the change with undisguised admiration. To _her_ eyes he was a thousand
times more attractive than ever, and she told him so without a shadow of
bashful hesitation.
The young French demoiselle had made up her mind to be charmed with
America, and little is required to satisfy those who are determined to
be pleased. How much of her enthusiasm was legitimately excited, and how
much was the spontaneous kindling of her own bright spirit, we will not
attempt to describe. Be it enough to say, that she frequently declared
her most sanguine expectations were far surpassed.
The countess, on the other hand, looked through a distorted medium which
filled her with disgust. She was horrified at the publicity of
hotel-life in New York. She could not tolerate the careless ease of the
persons with whom she was thrown into accidental communication,--the
confidence with which the very servants ventured to accost her. The
absence of awe, the lack of head and knee bending, in her august
presence, appeared a tacit insult. She was puzzled to reconcile the
freedom with which she was constantly addressed with the great deference
paid to her _sex_. While her _rank_ was almost ignored, the mere fact of
being _a woman_ commanded an amount of consideration unsurpassed by the
veneration paid to titled womanhood in her own land. Nothing, however,
shocked her more than the liberty accorded to young American maidens.
She found it impossible to comprehend that, educated as responsible
beings, the strict _surveillance_ over girlhood's most trivial actions,
which is deemed indispensable in France, ceased to be a matter of
necessity in America.
Immediately upon his arrival in New York the count had placed himself in
communication with Mr. Hilson; and, a few days later, received a letter
informing him that at a recent meeting of the managers of the ---- ----
Railway Association a committee of nine had been chosen to decide upon
the most suitable direction of the new road. The committee was to give
in its decision at the end of a fortnight. Mr. Hilson regretted to add
that he feared the majority were in favor of the road to the _right_. He
concluded by suggesting that it might be well for the count to visit
Washington, and exert over members of the committee any influence, that
he could command, to secure a majority of votes in favor of the road
which would prove so advantageous to his son's property.
The count resolved to act at once upon Mr. Hilson's suggestion. When he
proposed to his mother and Bertha that they should start the very next
day for Washington, the countess, for the first time since her arrival,
expressed herself gratified. At the seat of government she would meet
the French ambassador and his wife (the Marquis and Marchioness de
Fleury), and possibly, in the circle in which they moved, she might
encounter foreigners with whom it would not be repugnant to associate.
Bertha heard Count Tristan's announcement with such bright gleamings of
the eyes, such happy flushings of the cheeks, that the sudden radiance
which overspread her countenance set Maurice wondering over the emotions
that caused her to so warmly welcome this unanticipated change of
locality.
The revery into which he had fallen was broken by his father. The count
launched into a discussion upon the management of property in America,
then glided into the subject of the Maryland estate, and finally
suggested that it would be advisable for his son to grant him a power of
attorney which would place him in a situation to act as his
representative in any case of emergency. Maurice unhesitatingly
expressed his willingness to comply with this request, and the legal
instrument was drawn up without delay. Upon receiving the document, the
count assured his son that there was no probability that the power would
be required, and voluntarily pledged himself not to make use of it
without apprising Maurice.
Count Tristan's words and intentions were wholly at variance. His
affairs in Brittany had become so frightfully entangled, that it was
absolutely necessary for him to be able to command a considerable sum to
redeem his credit; and he saw no means by which this desirable end could
be obtained, except by a mortgage upon his son's estate. One of his
strongest motives in visiting America was to effect this purpose; but he
earnestly desired to conceal from Maurice the step he projected,
trusting to his own skill in under-hand management for the smoothing
away of difficulties before there was a necessity for explanation.
Maurice accompanied the count, his mother, and Bertha to Washington, and
there bidding them adieu returned to Charleston.
His preparatory studies being now completed, he was received as junior
partner by the gentleman who had initiated him into the mysteries of his
profession.
It chanced that Mr. Lorrillard had large possessions in certain iron
mines in Pennsylvania, which gave promise of yielding an immense profit.
He had conceived a high esteem for the young viscount, and, with a view
of promoting his interests, represented to him the advantage of
purchasing a few shares, which could at that moment be favorably
secured. Maurice had no funds at his command; but Mr. Lorrillard
suggested that the viscount could easily procure the ten thousand
dollars needful by a mortgage upon his Maryland estate, and even offered
to give him a letter to Mr. Emerson,--a personal friend residing in
Washington,--who, as the estate was wholly unembarrassed, would
willingly loan the money upon this security. It was hardly possible for
Maurice to have resided so long in America without being slightly bitten
by the national mania for speculation, and he gladly accepted the offer
of his principal, and retraced his steps to Washington.