it necessary to have a pair of spirited horses, servants in
livery, and torrents of gold to draw a glance from a woman here
in Paris?"
The demon of
luxury gnawed at his heart, greed burned in his
veins, his
throat was parched with the
thirst of gold.
He had a hundred and thirty francs every quarter. His father,
mother, brothers, sisters, and aunt did not spend two hundred
francs a month among them. This swift
comparison between his
present condition and the aims he had in view helped to benumb
his faculties.
"Why not?" the Vicomtesse was
saying, as she smiled at the
Portuguese. "Why cannot you come to the Italiens?"
"Affairs! I am to dine with the English Ambassador."
"Throw him over."
When a man once enters on a course of
deception, he is compelled
to add lie to lie. M. d'Ajuda
therefore said, smiling, "Do you
lay your commands on me?"
"Yes, certainly."
"That was what I wanted to have you say to me," he answered,
dissembling his feelings in a glance which would have reassured
any other woman.
He took the Vicomtesse's hand, kissed it, and went.
Eugene ran his fingers through his hair, and constrained himself
to bow. He thought that now Mme. de Beauseant would give him her
attention; but suddenly she
sprang forward, rushed to a window in
the
gallery, and watched M. d'Ajuda step into his
carriage; she
listened to the order that he gave, and heard the Swiss repeat it
to the
coachman:
"To M. de Rochefide's house."
Those words, and the way in which M. d'Ajuda flung himself back
in the
carriage, were like a
lightning flash and a thunderbolt
for her; she walked back again with a
deadly fear gnawing at her
heart. The most terrible catastrophes only happen among the
heights. The Vicomtesse went to her own room, sat down at a
table, and took up a sheet of
dainty notepaper.
"When, instead of dining with the English Ambassador,"
she wrote, "you go to the Rochefides, you owe me an
explanation, which I am
waiting to hear."
She retraced several of the letters, for her hand was trembling
so that they were indistinct; then she signed the note with an
initial C for "Claire de Bourgogne," and rang the bell.
"Jacques," she said to the servant, who appeared immediately,
"take this note to M. de Rochefide's house at half-past seven and
ask for the Marquis d'Ajuda. If M. d'Ajuda is there, leave the
note without
waiting for an answer; if he is not there, bring the
note back to me."
"Madame la Vicomtess, there is a
visitor in the drawing-room."
"Ah! yes, of course," she said,
opening the door.
Eugene was
beginning to feel very
uncomfortable, but at last the
Vicomtesse appeared; she spoke to him, and the
tremulous tones of
her voice vibrated through his heart.
"Pardon me, monsieur," she said; "I had a letter to write. Now I
am quite at liberty."
She scarcely knew what she was
saying, for even as she spoke she
thought, "Ah! he means to marry Mlle. de Rochefide? But is he
still free? This evening the marriage shall be broken off, or
else . . . But before to-morrow I shall know."
"Cousin . . ." the student replied.
"Eh?" said the Countess, with an
insolent glance that sent a cold
shudder through Eugene; he understood what that "Eh?" meant; he
had
learned a great deal in three hours, and his wits were on the
alert. He reddened:
"Madame . . ." he began; he hesitated a moment, and then went on.
"Pardon me; I am in such need of
protection that the nearest
scrap of
relationship could do me no harm."
Mme. de Beauseant smiled but there was
sadness in her smile; even
now she felt forebodings of the coming pain, the air she breathed
was heavy with the storm that was about to burst.
"If you knew how my family are situated," he went on, "you would
love to play the part of a beneficent fairy
godmother who
graciously clears the obstacles from the path of her protege."
"Well, cousin," she said, laughing, "and how can I be of service
to you?"