THE MANTUA-MAKER'S GUESTS.
Around Count Tristan's bed were grouped in silence his four nearest of
kin, waiting for the physician who was to decide upon the possibility of
removal. The countess sat erect and motionless by her son's head. Her
countenance wore a look of granite hardness, as though she were fighting
her grief with _Spartan_-like determination which would not let her
admit, even to herself, that any anguish preyed upon her heart. Maurice
sat at the foot of the bed, mournfully watching the spasmodic movements
of his stricken father: they were but feeble and few. Madeleine had
placed herself upon the other side of the couch. Her instinctive
delicacy prompted her to withdraw as far as possible from the countess.
Bertha had softly stolen to Madeleine's side, and sat silently clasping
her hand, and leaning against her shoulder; for hers was one of those
clinging, vine-like natures that ever turn for support to the object
nearest and strongest.
This was the disposition of the group when Ruth Thornton entered the
room on tiptoe and placed a card in Madeleine's hand.
"Did you tell him what had occurred?" whispered Madeleine.
"I did, and he still begged to see you."
Though Ruth spoke in a low voice, Bertha was so near that she heard her
reply, and it caused her, almost unconsciously, to glance at the card.
"Say that I will be with him directly," said Madeleine.
"It is M. de Bois. I will go with you," murmured Bertha, rising at the
same time as her cousin.
The countess did not move her eyes, but Maurice turned his head to look
after them. Madeleine could never pass from his presence without his
experiencing a sense of loss which inflicted a dull pang.
M. de Bois had been ushered into Madeleine's boudoir. He had not
anticipated the happiness of seeing Bertha. When she entered, his start
and flush of joy, and the gently confident manner in which he took her
hand, and drew her toward him, might well have surprised Madeleine; but
that surprise was quickly turned to positive amazement, for Bertha's
head drooped until its opulent golden curls swept his
breast,--and--and--(if we record what ensued be it remembered that
constitutionally bashful men, stirred by a sudden impulse, have less
control over their emotions than their calmer brothers)--and--in another
second, his own head was bent down, and his lips lightly touched her
pure brow, just where the fair hair parting ran on either side, in
shining waves. Truly was that first kiss
"The chrism of Love, which Love's own crown
With sanctifying sweetness did precede."
Gaston's ideas of what amount of tender demonstration punctilious
decorum permitted a lover, had finally undergone an alarming
modification, through the corrective influence of the social atmosphere
he had inhaled during the last few years. In his own land the limited
privileges of an accepted suitor do not extend thus far until the day
before a wedding-ring encircles the finger of a bride. Is it on this
account that the Parisian _Mrs. Grundy_, dreading some irresistible
temptation, never allows affianced lovers to be left alone?
Bertha's conceptions of propriety must also have been in a very
unsettled state; for, albeit "to her brow the ruby mounted," that first
kiss seemed to her to lie there as softly as an invisible gem, and she
did not withdraw her head, nor look up reproachfully, nor utter one word
of chiding.
Gaston noticed Madeleine's wonder-struck look, and said, "You did not
know, then, Mademoiselle Madeleine, how happy I am?"
Then Bertha escaped from the arm that encircled her, and nestling in her
cousin's bosom, faltered out, "I was so much troubled about Cousin
Tristan that I could not tell you."
"One of my most cherished hopes has become reality!" returned Madeleine,
fondly. "M. de Bois knows how much I have wished for this consummation;
and I think you have known it, Bertha, ever since you made me a certain
confession."
"What? Mademoiselle Bertha confessed to you, and you kept me in
ignorance?" cried Gaston, reproachfully.
"I did _as I would be done by_,--an old rule that wears well, and keeps
friendships golden."
There was a significance in Madeleine's look comprehended by Gaston. It
warned him that any confidence which she had reposed in him must be
sacred, even from his betrothed bride.
Dr. Bayard was announced, and Madeleine conducted him to the chamber
occupied by her suffering guest, and withdrew.
It strikes us that Madeleine's interpretation of the rules of decorum
must also have suffered by her residence in America; for she very coolly
left the lovers to themselves, and, passing through the dining-room,
walked into the garden.
When she reëntered her boudoir she found Gaston and Bertha conversing as
happily as though no sorrow found place upon the earth, or certainly
none beneath that roof; but, since the world began, lovers have been
pronounced selfishly forgetful of the rest of mankind. We have our
doubts, however, whether their being wholly wrapped up in each other
deserves so harsh a name as _selfishness_, since that very closeness of
union renders souls richer and larger, and gives to each additional
power to receive and communicate happiness, while thoroughly selfish
people lack the capacity to impart good gifts, and are content with
being recipients.
Madeleine had just seated herself opposite to the lovers, and was
thinking what a pleasant picture to contemplate were those two radiant
countenances, when Maurice entered with the physician.
"I fear, sir, you look upon my father's state as very critical?"
"Very," replied Dr. Bayard, who was a man of such acknowledged ability
that he could afford to be frank without being suspected of a desire to
magnify the importance of a case under his treatment. "Apoplexy may be
produced by various causes, hereditary disposition, high living, or
anxiety of mind, or all united. I cannot decide what was the origin of
Count Tristan de Gramont's seizure. One side is entirely paralyzed, and
the other slightly."
"Can he be removed to his hotel with safety?" inquired Maurice.
"Assuredly not. The risk would be very great. It should not be
encountered if there is any possibility of his remaining here for the
present."
He looked questioningly toward the mistress of the house.
Madeleine promptly replied, "These apartments are entirely at the
service of Count Tristan and his family, if they will honor me by
occupying them."
"That is well," returned the doctor. "Let the count remain undisturbed
until he is convalescent. I will see him again in the evening."
Dr. Bayard took his leave, and Maurice turned to Madeleine,--
"This is most unfortunate. It is a great burden to be thrown upon you,
Madeleine."
She interrupted him quickly. "You could hardly have spoken words less
kind, Maurice. If this shock could not have been spared your father, I
am thankful that it fell beneath my roof. He will be more quiet here
than in a hotel, and can be better tended. If the countess will permit
me, I will gladly constitute myself his chief _garde malade_. I have had
some experience"--
That inadvertent remark increased the agitation of Maurice, and he
answered, in a voice tremulous from the rush of sad recollections, "Who
can testify to that better than _I_? Do you think I have forgotten the
good _soeur de bon secours_ whose movements I used to watch, and whose
features, dimly traced by the feeble light of the _veilleuse_, I never
ceased to gaze upon, as she moved about my bed?"
Madeleine smiled and sighed at the same moment, and then remarked,
perhaps to turn the conversation,--
"But your grandmother,--I fear it will be very difficult to obtain her
consent to Count Tristan's remaining under my roof."
"She cannot desire to risk my father's life!" returned Maurice, somewhat
angrily. "I may as well tell her what is decided upon, at once."
Madeleine detained him.
"First let me explain to you the arrangements I propose making. If the
countess will condescend to remain here, I will have the drawing-room,
which opens into the room Count Tristan occupies, made into a
bed-chamber for her. The apartment beyond is the dining-room. This
little boudoir can be converted into a chamber for you. There is an
apartment upstairs which I will occupy; and, as Bertha cannot remain at
the hotel alone, I shall be truly happy if she will share my room, or
that of the countess."
"Yours! yours!" exclaimed Bertha. "Oh, what a pleasant arrangement! And
how quickly and admirably you have settled everything, just as you
always used to do; and nobody could ever plan half so well!"
"It will be your turn to play the hostess, and to them all!" cried
Gaston. "Who would have believed such a revolution of the great wheel
possible! That's what I call _compensation in this world_; for few
things, I know, can make you happier; and nothing can strike such a
severe blow at the pride of the Countess de Gramont as to find herself
the compulsory guest of the relative she has despised and persecuted."
Gaston, in his ardor and desire to see Madeleine avenged, had forgotten
the presence of the viscount; but Madeleine's look of reproach and her
glance toward her cousin recalled his presence to the mind of her
enthusiastic defender.
"I beg pardon, Maurice," said he; "I ought not to have spoken
disrespectfully of the countess; that is, while you were by."
"I understand and can pardon you, Gaston. Now I must go to my
grandmother and learn what she says; for I can see Madeleine's 'fairy
fingers' are impatient to commence their magical preparations for our
comfort."
He spoke sadly; though his words were half gay in their import.
Very few minutes elapsed before Maurice returned, accompanied by the
countess. She swept into the room, towering as majestically as though
she could rise above and conquer all the assailing army of circumstances
arrayed against her.
Madeleine made a movement toward the door.
"Remain! I wish to speak to you, Mademoiselle de Gramont," cried the
countess in her most icy tone.
"Permit me first to request Miss Thornton to watch beside Count Tristan.
He ought not to be left alone."
Madeleine had been more thoughtful of the patient than his mother, and
the latter could not detain her.
"Are you positive that your father cannot be moved? I am not convinced
that it is out of the question."
The countess addressed these words to Maurice.
"The physician has just declared that the risk would be too great. That
question, then, is definitely settled. It only remains for you to say
how far you will accept Madeleine's hospitable proposition."
"_Hospitable!_ Do not talk of _hospitality_ but of _degradation!_ What
will be said when it is known that Count Tristan de Gramont was
sheltered, during his illness, by his _mantua-maker relative!_--his
_tradeswoman niece!_ There is only one condition upon which I can be
forced to consent."
Here Madeleine reëntered, and the countess accosted her.
"Mademoiselle de Gramont, the tide of fortune has, for the moment, set
against our ill-fated house, and our humiliation can scarcely be more
complete. You are aware that the physician you have employed (and with
whom I trust you are not in league) says that my son cannot be removed
without danger."
"Yes, madame, and I hope Maurice has communicated the suggestion which I
have hesitatingly, but very gladly, made for your accommodation."
"He has done so," replied the countess, with undiminished stateliness.
"As for myself, it is asking too much,--it is an impossibility that I
should stoop to take up my abode here; but, while my son lies in his
present state, which I am told is alarming (though I believe I am
misinformed), I, as his mother, should feel bound to visit him though it
were in a pest-house. Your offer is declined for myself and Mademoiselle
de Merrivale. Maurice gives me to understand that he considers his place
to be by his father's side, night and day; therefore for him it will be
accepted upon certain conditions; upon these only can I allow my son and
grandson to remain beneath your roof."
"Name them, madame. I will promptly, joyfully comply with your wishes if
it be in my power to do so."
"You will immediately close your establishment, that none of the
transactions of the trade which has sullied your rank may go on within
these walls; and you will at once make known to the public your intended
nuptials with Lord Linden."
"I never had the remotest intention, madame, of becoming the wife of
Lord Linden."
"Has he not offered you his hand?"
"Yes, and but for the accident which has wholly diverted my thoughts, he
would have received a distinct refusal before now."
"What reason can you advance for declining so eligible an offer?"
"The same I gave at the Château de Gramont, nearly five years ago. My
affections belong to another."
Madeleine spoke with fervor, as though she experienced a deep joy in
thus proclaiming her constancy. Maurice, with a stifled sigh, turned
from her, and pretended to be gazing at the flowers in the conservatory.
"And may we, at last, be favored," demanded the countess, scornfully,
"with the name of this unknown lover, who has been able to inspire you
with such a rare and romantic amount of constancy?"
"It is one, madame, I cannot now mention with any more propriety than I
could have done years ago."
"Then it must be one of which you are ashamed! But how can I doubt that?
Has he not allowed you to become a tradeswoman? Has not the whole affair
been a disgraceful and clandestine one? You may well refuse to mention
his name! It can only be one which your family can object to hear."
"You are right in one respect, madame: it is one which they object to
hear; but, as I shall never be the wife of any other man,--yet never, in
all probability, the wife of _that one_,--let the subject of marriage be
set aside. In regard to closing this establishment, you are hardly
aware, madame, what you request. It would not be in my power to close it
suddenly, granting that I had the will to do so. I should not merely
throw out of employment some fifty struggling women, who are at present
occupied here, but would prevent my keeping faith in fulfilling
engagements already made. I will not dwell upon the great personal loss
that it would be to me. I should be glad to believe you are convinced of
the impossibility of my complying with your wishes."
"Do you mean to say that you actually refuse?"
"I am compelled to do so; but I will exert myself to render your visits
private. I will devise some method by which you will be entirely
shielded from the view of those who come here on business."
"You presume to think, then, that in spite of your insolent refusal, I
will allow my son to remain here?"
Madeleine felt that she could say no more, and looked beseechingly
toward Maurice, who exclaimed,--
"My father must remain here, for he cannot be removed. I gladly accept
my cousin's kind offer, and will remain to watch beside my father.
Bertha and yourself can continue to live at the hotel and visit him as
often as you feel inclined."
"Let me go! Let me go! I am suffocating! I stifle in this house!" burst
forth the countess, as though she were really choking. "I cannot remain.
Bertha, I want you. Maurice, give me your arm,--let me get away
quickly."
Maurice reconducted his grandmother to the hotel, almost without their
exchanging a word by the way. Bertha accompanied them, but she walked
behind with Gaston de Bois.