Vera went to old Pierre Dupré's fencing establishment with her cousin,
Henri d'Estreville. She was anxious to see these two young women of whom
Paris talked, though she felt that the exhibition of their skill would
probably displease her. In this respect she soon found that she was
mistaken. Old Dupré's pride in his daughters amused her, and the girls
themselves, especially Louise, greatly attracted her.
Paul de Tourelle undertook to fence a bout with Marie, the eldest girl,
an undertaking which he found considerably less of a walk over than he
had expected. He held his own, certainly, but was obliged to put forth
more effort into his work than he had expected to be called upon to
display. At the call of time he was a point or two to the good, but
he ended, surprised and a little mortified that he should have been
compelled to extend himself in order to obtain this result.
During the bout with her sister Louise sat beside Vera and conversed
with her, while the Baron, who glanced constantly in her direction,
stood with Dupré and his assistants at the edge of the arena. Louise
displayed no shyness; indeed she plied Vera with questions some of which
Vera found rather embarrassing. Many of them referred to the Baron,
whose name Louise mentioned with a certain hesitation. He was a soldier?
and had fought in the wars with the Emperor? He must be a favourite with
men--and, oh yes, this undoubtedly, with the ladies!
And Mademoiselle herself, she moved in the great world--ah, it must be
pleasant to have the entrée there! Mademoiselle was doubtless fiancée?
Vera admitted, laughing, that this was so and yet not so, a reply which
puzzled her companion not a little.
Louise reflected. "Ah, Mademoiselle," she said, "perhaps I have solved
the conundrum--Mademoiselle is betrothed to her cousin, Monsieur le
Baron; but betrothals to cousins, as all the world knows, are not to be
accounted as serious contracts; they are made for the convenience of
both, but are not intended to be regarded seriously?" Louise gazed so
intently in Vera's eyes as she put forward this suggestion that Vera
was too surprised to laugh as she had at first felt inclined to do.
"My cousin?" she said; "_Mon Dieu_, no; the Baron is not of the kind to
take the trouble to be fiancé for considerations of convenience."
"The Baron is not then betrothed to Mademoiselle?" murmured Louise, and
presently she began to speak of the fencing, no longer interested--as
it appeared to Vera--in the conundrum with regard to Mademoiselle's
betrothal.
Which very naïve conversation went to convince Vera that howsoever
gifted the fair Louise might be in the manly attribute of fencing, there
was still much of the woman remaining in her composition. She watched
Louise somewhat carefully after this, anxious to learn more as to her
interest in Henri's affairs, when it was easy to perceive that though
obviously avoiding the Baron, doubtless for reasons of her own, the
girl's eyes constantly turned in the direction of her cousin.
"Poor little Louise!" thought Vera. "Henri of all people!"
Afterwards she sought an opportunity to add a word of warning.
"My cousin D'Estreville, to whom you suspected me of being engaged," she
said, laughing, "is not one I would trust with my heart. He is the same
to all women, implying much but meaning nothing. He is _par excellence_
a soldier. Women are--for him--toys to be played with in time of peace.
Henri is not one to bind himself; he takes his amusement where he finds
it."
"All men that I have seen are like that," said Louise unexpectedly; "yet
I believe that it comes to each man once in his life to take a woman
seriously."
"Come, Louise," old Pierre called out at this point, "Monsieur has
kindly consented to exhibit to us a second time his wonderful skill with
the foils; you will find Louise a fair exponent, Monsieur, though she
has never yet measured swords with one of your exceptional gifts."
"If she is as clever as her sister," said Paul gallantly, "she must be
skilful indeed. I offer you my compliments upon your daughters, Monsieur
Dupré, they are indeed a credit to their teacher."
"Ah, Monsieur, if they were but of the sex!" cried old Pierre; "but
there--it is not their fault--I have bewailed it all their lives, but it
is not their fault."
Paul, in his bout with Louise, was at first amused to find that he
was getting the worst of it. Presently, as she added point to point,
his amusement turned to disgust and presently he grew a little angry.
When Paul reached this stage, in a fencing bout, he generally became
invincible; and during the latter portion of the set-to his score
rapidly improved. Nevertheless, when time was called it was found that
Louise had won upon a point. Old Dupré clapped his hands in unfeigned
delight, apologising immediately after for his rudeness.
"I also crave permission to applaud," said Paul; "Mademoiselle is
magnificent. Several times she took me unawares in a manner that I
thought impossible of any swordsman in Paris. If Mademoiselle is not
tired, I should be grateful to try conclusions once more when she is
rested; while she rests there are one or two points in our bout which I
should like to think over."
"Oh--ah!" cried old Pierre delighted. "Monsieur refers I think to the
_feint flanconnade_--the _feint flanconnade Dupré_ we call it; it is a
trick of my invention, Monsieur; twice I observed she scored by it! yes,
it is subtle, Monsieur, and found by my daughters and by our pupils to
be most exceptionally successful. It is a compliment that Monsieur takes
notice of these little things."
"It is owing to these 'little things' that I find myself vanquished
by Mademoiselle," Paul laughed good-naturedly. "I will consider these
points for five minutes with Mademoiselle's permission."
During the interval old Dupré conversed with Vera Demidof, explaining to
her how hard it had been for a parent longing for boys to find himself
saddled with girls; how his daughters had, however, done their very best
to atone for the "mischance" by growing up--as he had thought--superior
to the weaknesses of their sex; and how he had been rudely brought up by
the horrible discovery that Marie had fallen in love with his assistant
and desired to marry him forthwith.
"Imagine my grief, Mademoiselle," old Pierre mourned; "so promising
a swordswoman, so great a help and comfort to me, and pouff! she is
married and her usefulness is gone! All that is man in her is gone also!"
Vera could not help laughing.
"You still have Louise!" she said, doing her best to say something
comforting.
"Bah! she has seen her sister's deterioration and she will follow her
example; it is infectious, like measles! already I perceive----"
What old Pierre was about to say remained uncertain, for at this moment
Henri d'Estreville joined the group.
"There is war in the air, Dupré, have you heard?" he said. "The
conscription papers are out. Young Havet had better be quick and get his
wedding over or he may find himself in Moscow before he realises that he
is a soldier."
"Ah--would to Heaven they had taken him before this foolery began!"
said old Pierre. "Now I know not what is best; the evil is done; I do
not approve of Marie's foolishness, yet I would not have her heart
broken--for imagine, Monsieur le Baron, so false has become her estimate
of the proportions that she would rather marry this young man than see
him enrolled among the heroes of his country. Surely the object of love
is the happiness and the well-being of the beloved? Compare then: to be
a soldier of the Grande Armée, or to sit at home to lose manhood in the
endearments of a foolish woman! Yet, knowing of the conscription, she
would marry him to-morrow."
Old Pierre was almost in tears, so deeply did he feel the bitterness
of the blow. That his daughters were women, was bad enough. That they
should at length show a desire to behave as women was a grievance indeed!
"Be comforted, Monsieur," said Henri, smiling, "Havet is not yet chosen;
if he should be so presently, allow me to suggest the very simplest
solution of the difficulty. Let Mademoiselle Marie enlist also, thus no
hearts shall be broken, and the Emperor gains a soldier better, I'll be
bound, worth the having than half the six hundred thousand he intends to
raise, if report speaks truly."
"Monsieur le Baron is pleased to jest," said Pierre; "yet it is true
that Marie would make a good soldier; it is but three years, Monsieur,
since my daughters exchanged the convenient garb of our sex for the
foolish habiliments of that to which unfortunately they belong."
"So I have heard," said the Baron, "otherwise I should not have
presumed, Monsieur, to make the suggestion which was not, be assured,
altogether a jest."
"Was it not, Monsieur?" exclaimed Pierre, looking thoughtful. "Why then
I will mention it to Marie; there is no knowing how the suggestion
may strike her; assuredly she would pass as well for a man as the
majority of the silly, half-grown youths that the conscription will
catch. _Splendeur des Cieux_, Monsieur, it is a good idea. The glory of
having, after all, a child of my own to serve with the colours! It is an
ambition which I resigned with tears at the birth of my little Louise!"
"See, your little Louise, who is quite as big as our friend Paul," the
Baron laughed, "is about to play her second bout with my redoubtable
De Tourelle. Try again your _feint flanconnade Dupré_, Mademoiselle
Louise; only be prepared this time for a subtle riposte! When Monsieur
de Tourelle has devoted five minutes to the consideration of his play,
be sure the time has not been wasted!"
Louise blushed and lowered her eyes when spoken to by the Baron, a
circumstance which more than one pair of eyes observed.
"Louise has several subtle tricks with which Monsieur may not yet be
acquainted," said old Pierre, flushed now and excited with the prospect
of a second exhibition of his daughter's splendid skill. "Though I am
the first to admit that she has found more than her match, for once, in
Monsieur de Tourelle."
Paul's five minutes had not been wasted, as he quickly showed. For
though Louise made a great bid for victory and was, indeed, never more
than a point or two behind, De Tourelle was a trifle the better, and
ending with a beautifully executed "time in octave" finished the leader
by two points.
"I shall consider seriously your suggestion, Monsieur," said old Pierre
at parting with Henri d'Estreville; "the more I think of it the more I
perceive that if only Marie would think well of the matter there is much
to commend it."
"But you would lose two capable assistants, Monsieur le Major, as well
as the comfort of a daughter's presence," said Henri, somewhat ashamed
of having set the old man yelping upon so foolish a scent.
"Bah! all the world will be at the war, there will be few to take
fencing lessons for the while. Louise and the other younker will suffice
for all the pupils we shall get in war-time! Monsieur le Baron will
himself be absent among the rest, I doubt not?"
"_Mon Dieu_, let us hope so!" Henri laughed. "Where else? _Eh bien, au
revoir_, Monsieur, and _au revoir_, maybe, to Mademoiselle Marie in
Moscow." Henri departed, laughing merrily. Louise had turned away with
her flushed face a shade or two the paler for Henri's last speech,
therefore she did not catch the amorous look which the Baron thought fit
to send in her direction as he quitted the arena.