turning to me. "You are crushed by the
avalanche of ideas that have
rolled down upon you. What sort of future will this universal
education bring upon us unless we prevent its evils by replacing
public education in the hands of the religious bodies?"
These words were in
harmony with a speech he afterwards made at the
elections when he refused his support to a man whose gifts would have
done good service to the
royalist cause. "I shall always
distrust men
of talent," he said.
Presently the count proposed that we should make the tour of the
gardens.
"Monsieur--" said his wife.
"Well, what, my dear?" he said, turning to her with an arrogant
harshness which showed
plainly enough how
absolute he chose to be in
his own home.
"Monsieur de Vandenesse walked from Tours this morning and Monsieur de
Chessel, not aware of it, has already taken him on foot over
Frapesle."
"Very imprudent of you," the count said, turning to me; "but at your
age--" and he shook his head in sign of regret.
The conversation was resumed. I soon saw how intractable his royalism
was, and how much care was needed to swim
safely in his waters. The
man-servant, who had now put on his
livery, announced dinner. Monsieur
de Chessel gave his arm to Madame de Mortsauf, and the count gaily
seized mine to lead me into the dining-room, which was on the ground-
floor facing the salon.
This room, floored with white tiles made in Touraine, and wainscoted
to the
height of three feet, was hung with a varnished paper divided
into wide panels by wreaths of flowers and fruit; the windows had
cambric curtains trimmed with red, the buffets were old pieces by
Boulle himself, and the
woodwork of the chairs, which were covered by
hand-made
tapestry, was carved oak. The dinner, plentifully supplied,
was not
luxurious; family silver without
uniformity, Dresden china
which was not then in fashion, octagonal decanters,
knives with agate
handles, and lacquered trays beneath the wine-bottles, were the chief
features of the table, but flowers adorned the
porcelain vases and
overhung the gilding of their fluted edges. I
delighted in these
quaint old things. I thought the Reveillon paper with its flowery
garlands beautiful. The sweet content that filled my sails hindered me
from perceiving the obstacles which a life so uniform, so unvarying in
solitude of the country placed between her and me. I was near her,
sitting at her right hand, serving her with wine. Yes, unhoped-for
joy! I touched her dress, I ate her bread. At the end of three hours
my life had
mingled with her life! That terrible kiss had bound us to
each other in a secret which inspired us with
mutual shame. A glorious
self-abasement took possession of me. I
studied to please the count, I
fondled the dogs, I would
gladly have gratified every desire of the
children, I would have brought them hoops and
marbles and played horse
with them; I was even provoked that they did not already
fasten upon
me as a thing of their own. Love has intuitions like those of
genius;
and I dimly perceived that gloom,
discontent,
hostility would destroy
my
footing in that household.
The dinner passed with
inward happiness on my part. Feeling that I was
there, under her roof, I gave no heed to her
obviouscoldness, nor to
the count's
indifference masked by his
politeness. Love, like life,
has an adolescence during which period it suffices unto itself. I made
several
stupid replies induced by the tumults of
passion, but no one
perceived their cause, not even SHE, who knew nothing of love. The
rest of my visit was a dream, a dream which did not cease until by
moonlight on that warm and balmy night I recrossed the Indre, watching
the white visions that embellished meadows, shores, and hills, and
listening to the clear song, the
matchless note, full of deep
melancholy and uttered only in still weather, of a tree-frog whose
scientific name is unknown to me. Since that
solemn evening I have
never heard it without
infinite delight. A sense came to me then of
the
marble wall against which my feelings had
hitherto dashed
themselves. Would it be always so? I fancied myself under some fatal
spell; the
unhappy events of my past life rose up and struggled with
the
purely personal pleasure I had just enjoyed. Before reaching
Frapesle I turned to look at Clochegourde and saw beneath its windows
a little boat, called in Touraine a punt,
fastened to an ash-tree and
swaying on the water. This punt belonged to Monsieur de Mortsauf, who
used it for fishing.
"Well," said Monsieur de Chessel, when we were out of ear-shot. "I
needn't ask if you found those shoulders; I must, however,
congratulate you on the
reception Monsieur de Mortsauf gave you. The
devil! you stepped into his heart at once."
These words followed by those I have already quoted to you raised my
spirits. I had not as yet said a word, and Monsieur de Chessel may
have attributed my silence to happiness.
"How do you mean?" I asked.
"He never, to my knowledge, received any one so well."
"I will admit that I am rather surprised myself," I said,
conscious of
a certain
bitternessunderlying my companion's speech.
Though I was too inexpert in social matters to understand its cause, I
was much struck by the feeling Monsieur de Chessel betrayed. His real
name was Durand, but he had had the
weakness to
discard the name of a
worthy father, a merchant who had made a large fortune under the
Revolution. His wife was sole heiress of the Chessels, an old
parliamentary family under Henry IV., belonging to the middle classes,
as did most of the Parisian magistrates. Ambitious of higher flights
Monsieur de Chessel endeavored to
smother the original Durand. He
first called himself Durand de Chessel, then D. de Chessel, and that
made him Monsieur de Chessel. Under the Restoration he entailed an
estate with the title of count in
virtue of letters-patent from Louis
XVIII. His children reaped the fruits of his
audacity without knowing
what it cost him in sarcastic comments. Parvenus are like monkeys,
whose cleverness they possess; we watch them climbing, we admire their
agility, but once at the
summit we see only their
absurd and
contemptible parts. The
reverse side of my host's
character was made
up of pettiness with the
addition of envy. The peerage and he were on
diverging lines. To have an
ambition and
gratify it shows merely the
insolence of strength, but to live below one's avowed
ambition is a
constant source of
ridicule to petty minds. Monsieur de Chessel did
not advance with the straightforward step of a strong man. Twice
elected
deputy, twice defeated;
yesterday director-general, to-day
nothing at all, not even prefect, his successes and his defeats had
injured his nature, and given him the sourness of invalided
ambition.
Though a brave man and a witty one and
capable of great things, envy,
which is the root of
existence in Touraine, the inhabitants of which
employ their native
genius in
jealousy of all things, injured him in
upper social circles, where a
dissatisfied man, frowning at the
success of others, slow at compliments and ready at epigram, seldom
succeeds. Had he sought less he might perhaps have obtained more; but
unhappily he had enough
genuinesuperiority to make him wish to
advance in his own way.
At this particular time Monsieur de Chessel's
ambition had a second
dawn. Royalty smiled upon him, and he was now affecting the grand
manner. Still he was, I must say, most kind to me, and he pleased me
for the very simple reason that with him I had found peace and rest
for the first time. The interest, possibly very slight, which he
showed in my affairs, seemed to me,
lonely and rejected as I was, an
image of
paternal love. His
hospitable care contrasted so strongly
with the
neglect to which I was accustomed, that I felt a childlike
gratitude to the home where no fetters bound me and where I was
welcomed and even courted.
The owners of Frapesle are so associated with the dawn of my life's
happiness that I
mingle them in all those memories I love to revive.
Later, and more especially in
connection with his letters-patent, I
had the pleasure of doing my host some service. Monsieur de Chessel
enjoyed his
wealth with an ostentation that gave umbrage to certain of
his neighbors. He was able to vary and renew his fine horses and
elegant equipages; his wife dressed
exquisitely; he received on a
grand scale; his servants were more numerous than his neighbors
approved; for all of which he was said to be aping princes. The
Frapesle
estate is
immense. Before such
luxury as this the Comte de
Mortsauf, with one family cariole,--which in Touraine is something
between a coach without springs and a post-chaise,--forced by limited
means to let or farm Clochegourde, was Tourangean up to the time when
royal favor restored the family to a
distinction possibly unlooked
for. His greeting to me, the younger son of a ruined family whose