RISING.
To explain the arrival of Mdlle. de Cardoville at the garden-door of the
house occupied by Djalma, we must cast a retrospective glance at previous
events. On leaving Doctor Baleinier's, Mdlle. de Cardoville had gone to
take up her residence in the Rue d'Anjou. During the last few months of
her stay with her aunt, Adrienne had secretly caused this handsome
dwelling to be repaired and furnished, and its luxury and elegance were
now increased by all the wonders of the lodge of Saint-Dizier House. The
world found it very strange, that a lady of the age and condition of
Mdlle. de Cardoville should take the resolution of living completely
alone and free, and, in fact, of keeping house exactly like a bachelor, a
young widow, or an emancipated minor. The world pretended not to know
that Mdlle. de Cardoville possessed what is often wanting in men, whether
of age or twice of age--a firm character, a lofty mind, a generous heart,
strong and vigorous good sense.
Judging that she would require faithful assistance in the internal
management of her house, Adrienne had written to the bailiff of
Cardoville, and his wife, old family servants, to come immediately to
Paris: M. Dupont thus filled the office of steward, and Mme. Dupont that
of housekeeper. An old friend of Adrienne's father, the Count de
Montbron, an accomplished old man, once very much in fashion, and still a
connoisseur in all sorts of elegances, had advised Adrienne to act like a
princess, and take an equerry; recommended for this office a man of good
rearing and ripe age, who, himself an amateur in horses, had been ruined
in England, at Newmarket, the Derby, and Tattersall's, and reduced, as
sometimes happened to gentlemen in that country, to drive the stage
coaches, thus finding an honest method of earning his bread, and at the
same time gratifying his taste for horses. Such was M. de Bonneville, M.
de Montbron's choice. Both from age and habits, this equerry could
accompany Mdlle. de Cardoville on horseback, and better than any one
else, superintend the stable. He accepted, therefore, the employment with
gratitude, and, thanks to his skill and attention, the equipages of
Mdlle. de Cardoville were not eclipsed in style by anything of the kind
in Paris. Mdlle. de Cardoville had taken back her women, Hebe, Georgette,
and Florine. The latter was at first to have re-entered the service of
the Princess de Saint-Dizier, to continue her part of spy for the
superior of St. Mary's Convent; but, in consequence of the new direction
given by Rodin to the Rennepont affair, it was decided that Florine, if
possible, should return to the service of Mdlle. de Cardoville. This
confidential place, enabling this unfortunate creature to render
important and mysterious services to the people who held her fate in
their hands, forced her to infamous treachery. Unfortunately, all things
favored this machination. We know that Florine, in her interview with
Mother Bunch, a few days after Mdlle. de Cardoville was imprisoned at Dr.
Baleinier's, had yielded to a twinge of remorse, and given to the
sempstress advice likely to be of use to Adrienne's interests--sending
word to Agricola not to deliver to Madame de Saint Dizier the papers
found in the hiding-place of the pavilion, but only to entrust them to
Mdlle. de Cardoville herself. The latter, afterwards informed of these
details by Mother Bunch, felt a double degree of confidence and interest
in Florine, took her back into her service with gratitude, and almost
immediately charged her with a confidential mission--that of
superintending the arrangements of the house hired for Djalma's
habitation. As for Mother Bunch (yielding to the solicitations of Mdlle.
de Cardoville, and finding she was no longer of use to Dagobert's wife,
of whom we shall speak hereafter), she had consented to take up her abode
in the hotel on the Rue d'Anjou, along with Adrienne, who with that rare
sagacity of the heart peculiar to her, entrusted the young sempstress,
who served her also as a secretary, with the department of alms-giving.
Mdlle. de Cardoville had at first thought of entertaining her merely as a
friend, wishing to pay homage in her person to probity with labor,
resignation in sorrow, and intelligence in poverty; but knowing the
workgirl's natural dignity, she feared, with reason that, notwithstanding
the delicate circumspection with which the hospitality would be offered,
Mother Bunch might perceive in it alms in disguise. Adrienne preferred,
therefore, whilst she treated her as a friend, to give her a confidential
employment. In this manner the great delicacy of the needlewoman would be
spared, since she could earn her livelihood by performing duties which
would at the same time satisfy her praiseworthy instincts of charity. In
fact, she could fulfil, better than any one, the sacred mission confided
to her by Adrienne. Her cruel experience in misfortune, the goodness of
her angelic soul, the elevation of her mind, her rare activity, her
penetration with regard to the painful secrets of poverty, her perfect
knowledge of the industrial classes, were sufficient security for the
tact and intelligence with which the excellent creature would second the
generous intentions of Mdlle. de Cardoville.
Let us now speak of the divers events which, on that day, preceded the
coming of Mdlle. de Cardoville to the garden-gate of the house in the Rue
Blanche. About ten o'clock in the morning, the blinds of Adrienne's
bedchamber, closely shut, admitted no ray of daylight to this apartment,
which was only lighted by a spherical lamp of oriental alabaster,
suspended from the ceiling by three long silver chains. This apartment,
terminating in a dome, was in the form of a tent with eight sides. From
the ceiling to the floor, it was hung with white silk, covered with long
draperies of muslin, fastened in large puffs to the wall, by bands caught
in at regular distances by plates of ivory. Two doors, also of ivory,
admirably encrusted with mother-of-pearl, led, one to the bath-room, the
other to the toilet-chamber, a sort of little temple dedicated to the
worship of beauty, and furnished as it had been at the pavilion of Saint
Dizier House. Two other compartments of the wall were occupied by
windows, completely veiled with drapery. Opposite the bed, enclosing
splendid fire-dogs of chased silver, was a chimney-piece of white marble,
like crystallized snow, on which were sculptured two magnificent
caryatides, and a frieze representing birds and flowers. Above this
frieze, carved in openwork with extreme delicacy, was a marble basket,
filled with red camellias. Their leaves of shining green their flowers of
a delicate rosy hue, were the only colors that disturbed the harmonious
whiteness of this virgin retreat. Finally, half surrounded by waves of
white muslin, which poured down from the dome like a mass of light
clouds, the bed was visible--very low, and resting on feet of carved
ivory, which stood upon the ermine carpet that covered the floor. With
the exception of a plinth, also in ivory, admirably inlaid with
mother-of-pearl, the bed was entirely covered with white satin, wadded
and quilted like an immense scent-bag. The cambric sheets, trimmed with
lace, being a little disturbed on one side, discovered the corner of a
white taffety mattress, and a light counterpane of watered stuff--for an
equal temperature always reigned in this apartment, warm as a fine spring
day.
From a singular scruple, arising from the same sentiment which had caused
Adrienne to have inscribed on a masterpiece of goldsmith's work the name
of the maker instead of that of the seller, she had wished all these
articles, so costly and sumptuous, to be manufactured by workmen chosen
amongst the most intelligent, honest, and industrious of their class,
whom she had supplied with the necessary materials. In this manner she
had been able to add to the price of the work the profit usually gained
by the middle man, who speculates in such labor; this notable
augmentation of wages had spread happiness and comfort through a hundred
necessitous families, who, blessing the munificence of Adrienne, gave
her, as she said, the right to enjoy her luxury as a good action. Nothing
could be fresher or more charming than the interior of this bedchamber.
Mdlle. de Cardoville had just awoke; she reposed in the middle of this
flood of muslin, lace, cambric, and white silk, in a position full of
sweet grace. Never during the night did she cover that beautiful golden
hair (a certain recipe, said the Greeks, for preserving it for a long
while in magnificence). Every evening, her women arranged her long silky
curls in flat tresses, forming two broad bands, which, descending
sufficiently low almost entirely to conceal the small ear, the rosy lobe
of which was alone visible, were joined to the large plait behind the
head.
This head-dress, borrowed from Greek antiquity, set off to admiration the
pure, fine features of Mdlle. de Cardoville, and made her look so much
younger, that, instead of eighteen, one would hardly have given her
fifteen years of age. Gathered thus closely about the temples, the hair
lost its transparent and brilliant hues, and would have appeared almost
brown, but for the golden tints which played here and there, amid the
undulations of the tresses. Lulled in that morning torpor, the warm
languor of which is so favorable to soft reveries, Adrienne leaned with
her elbow on the pillow, and her head a little on one side, which
displayed to advantage the ideal contour of her bared neck and shoulders;
her smiling lips, moist and rosy, were, like her cheeks, cold as if they
had just been bathed in ice-water; her snow-white lids half veiled the
large, dark, soft eyes, which now gazed languidly upon vacancy, and now
fixed themselves with pleasure upon the rosy flowers and green leaves in
the basket of camellias. Who can paint the matchless serenity of
Adrienne's awaking--when the fair and chaste soul roused itself in the
fair and chaste body? It was the awakening of a heart as pure as the
fresh and balmy breath of youth, that made her bosom rise and fall in its
white, immaculate purity. What creed, what dogma, what formula, what
religious symbol, oh! paternal and divine Creator! can ever give a more
complete idea of Thy harmonious and ineffable power, than the image of a
young maiden awaking in the bloom of her beauty, and in all the grace of
that modesty with which Thou hast endowed her, seeking, in her dreamy
innocence, for the secret of that celestial instinct of love, which Thou
hast placed in the bosom of all Thy creatures--oh! Thou whose love is
eternal, and goodness infinite!
The confused thoughts which, since her sleep, had appeared gently to
agitate Adrienne, absorbed her more and more; her head resting on her
bosom, her beautiful arm upon the couch, her features without becoming
precisely sad, assumed an expression of touching melancholy. Her dearest
desire was accomplished; she was about to live independent and alone. But
this affectionate, delicate, expansive, and marvellously complete nature,
felt that God had not given her such rare treasures, to bury them in a
cold and selfish solitude. She felt how much that was great and beautiful
might be inspired by love, both in herself, and in him that should be
worthy of her. Confiding in her courage, and the nobleness of her
character, proud of the example that she wished to give to other women,
knowing that all eyes would be fixed enviously upon her, she felt, as it
were, only too sure of herself; far from fearing that she should make a
bad choice, she rather feared, that she should not find any from whom to
choose, so pure and perfect was her taste. And, even had she met with her
own ideal, she had views so singular and so just, so extraordinary and
yet so sensible, with regard to the independence and dignity of woman,
that, inexorably determined to make no concession upon this head, she
asked herself if the man of her choice would ever accept the hitherto
unheard-of conditions that she meant to impose. In recalling to her
remembrance the possible suitors that she had met in the world, she
remembered also the dark, but true picture, which Rodin had drawn with so
much caustic bitterness. She remembered, too, not without a certain
pride, the encouragement this man had given her, not by flattery, but by
advising her to follow out and accomplish a great, generous, and
beautiful design. The current or the caprice of fancy soon brought
Adrienne to think of Djalma. Whilst she congratulated herself on having
paid to her royal kinsman the duties of a kingly hospitality, the young
lady was far from regarding the prince as the hero of her future.
And first she said to herself, not unreasonably, that this half-savage
boy, with passions, if not untamable, yet untamed, transported on a
sudden into the midst of a refined civilization, would be inevitably
destined to fiery trials and violent transformations. Now Mdlle. de
Cardoville, having nothing masculine or despotic in her character, had no
wish to civilize the young savage. Therefore, notwithstanding the
interest, or rather because of the interest, which she felt for the young
Indian, she was firmly resolved, not to make herself known to him, till
after the lapse of two or three months; and she determined also, that,
even if Djalma should learn by chance that she was his relation, she
would not receive his visit. She desired, if not to try him, at least to
leave him free in all his acts, so that he might expend the first fire of
his passions, good or bad. But not wishing to abandon him quite without
defence to the perils of Parisian life, she requested the Count de
Montbron, in confidence, to introduce Prince Djalma to the best company
in Paris, and to enlighten him by the counsels of his long experience. M.
de Montbron had received the request of Mdlle. de Cardoville with the
greatest pleasure, taking delight, he said, in starting his royal tiger
in drawing-rooms, and bringing him into contact with the flower of the
fine ladies and gentlemen of Paris, offering at the same time to wager
any amount in favor of his half-savage pupil.
"As for myself, my dear Count," said Adrienne to M. de Montbron, with her
usual frankness, "my resolution is not to be shaken. You have told me the
effect that will be produced in the fashionable world, by the first
appearance of Prince Djalma, an Indian nineteen years of age, of
surprising beauty, proud and wild as a young lion arriving from his
forest; it is new, it is extraordinary, you added; and, therefore, all
the coquetries of civilized life will pursue him with an eagerness which
makes me tremble for him. Now, seriously, my dear count it will not suit
me to appear as the rival of so many fine ladies, who are about to expose
themselves intrepidly to the claws of the young tiger. I take great
interest in him, because he is my cousin, because he is handsome, because
he is brave, and above all because he does not wear that horrible
European dress. No doubt these are rare qualities--but not sufficient to
make me change my mind. Besides, the good old philosopher, my new friend,
has given me advice about this Indian, which you, my dear Count, who are
not a philosopher, will yet approve. It is, for some time, to receive
visits at home, but not to visit other people--which will spare me the
awkwardness of meeting my royal cousin, and allow me to make a careful
choice, even amongst my usual society. As my house will be an excellent
one, my position most unusual, and as I shall be suspected of all sorts
of naughty secrets, I shall be in no want of inquisitive visitors, who
will amuse me a good deal, I assure you."
And as M. de Montbron asked, if the exile of the poor young Indian tiger
was to last long, Adrienne answered: "As I shall see most of the persons,
to whom you will introduce him, I shall be pleased to hear different
opinions about him. If certain men speak well of him, and certain women
ill, I shall have good hope of him. In a word, the opinion that I come
to, in sifting the true from the false (you may leave that to my
sagacity), will shorten or prolong the exile of my royal cousin."
Such were the formal intentions of Mdlle. de Cardoville with regard to
Djalma, even on the day she went with Florine to the house he occupied.
In a word, she had positively resolved not to be known to him for some
months to come.
After long reflecting that morning, on the chances that might yet offer
themselves to satisfy the wants of her heart, Adrienne fell into a new,
deep reverie. This charming creature, so full of life and youth, heaved a
low sigh, raised her arms above her head, turned her profile towards the
pillow, and remained for some moments as if powerless and vanquished.
Motionless beneath the white tissues that wrapped her round, she looked
like a fair, marble statue, visible beneath a light layer of snow.
Suddenly, Adrienne raised herself up, drew her hand across her brow, and
rang for her women. At the first silver tone of the bell, the two ivory
doors opened. Georgette appeared on the threshold of the dressing-room,
from which Frisky, a little black and-tan dog, with his golden collar,
escaped with a joyful barking. Hebe appeared at the same time on the
threshold of the bath-room. At the further end of this apartment, lighted
from above, might be seen upon a green mat of Spanish leather, with
golden ornaments, a crystal bath in the form of a long shell. The three
only divisions in this masterpiece of glass work, were concealed by the
elegant device of several large reeds in silver, which rose from the wide
base of the bath, also of wrought silver, representing children and
dolphins playing, among branches of natural coral, and azure shells.
Nothing could be more pleasing than the effect of these purple reeds and
ultramarine shells, upon a dull ground of silver; the balsamic vapor,
which rose from the warm, limpid, and perfumed water, that filled the
crystal shell, spread through the bath-room, and floated like a light
cloud into the sleeping-chamber.
Seeing Hebe in her fresh and pretty costume, bringing her a long bathing
gown, hanging upon a bare and dimpled arm, Adrienne said to her: "Where
is Florine, my child?"
"Madame, she went downstairs two hours ago; she was wanted for something
very pressing."
"Who wanted her?"
"The young person who serves Madame as secretary. She went out this
morning very early; and, as soon as she returned, she sent for Florine,
who has not come back since."
"This absence no doubt relates to some important affair of my angelic
minister of succor," said Adrienne, smiling, and thinking of the
hunchback. Then she made a sign to Hebe to approach her bed.
About two hours after rising, Adrienne, having had herself dressed, as
usual, with rare elegance, dismissed her women, and sent for Mother
Bunch, whom she treated with marked deference, always receiving her
alone. The young sempstress entered hastily, with a pale, agitated
countenance, and said, in a trembling voice: "Oh, madame! my
presentiments were justified. You are betrayed."
"Of what presentiments do you speak, my dear child!" said Adrienne, with
surprise. "Who betrays me?"
"M. Rodin!" answered the workgirl.