bejeweled scent-bottle hung. It gave me a quite
indescribable pleasure
to watch the feline grace of every
movement; the supple grace a cat
displays as it adjusts its toilette in the sun. She looked at herself
in the mirror and said aloud ill-humoredly--'I did not look well this
evening, my
complexion is going with alarming
rapidity; perhaps I
ought to keep earlier hours, and give up this life of dissipation.
Does Justine mean to
trifle with me?' She rang again; her maid
hurriedin. Where she had been I cannot tell; she came in by a secret
staircase. I was
anxious to make a study of her. I had lodged
accusations, in my
romantic imaginings, against this invisible
waiting-woman, a tall, well-made brunette.
" 'Did madame ring?'
" 'Yes, twice,' answered Foedora; 'are you really growing deaf
nowadays?'
" 'I was preparing madame's milk of almonds.'
"Justine knelt down before her, unlaced her sandals and drew them off,
while her
mistress lay
carelessly back on her
cushioned armchair
beside the fire, yawned, and scratched her head. Every
movement was
perfectly natural; there was nothing
whatever to indicate the secret
sufferings or emotions with which I had credited her.
" 'George must be in love!' she remarked. 'I shall
dismiss him. He has
drawn the curtains again to-night. What does he mean by it?'
"All the blood in my veins rushed to my heart at this
observation, but
no more was said about curtains.
" 'Life is very empty,' the
countess went on. 'Ah! be careful not to
scratch me as you did
yesterday. Just look here, I still have the
marks of your nails about me,' and she held out a
silken knee. She
thrust her bare feet into
velvet slippers bound with swan's-down, and
unfastened her dress, while Justine prepared to comb her hair.
" 'You ought to marry, madame, and have children.'
" 'Children!' she cried; 'it wants no more than that to finish me at
once; and a husband! What man is there to whom I could----? Was my
hair well arranged to-night?'
" 'Not particularly.'
" 'You are a fool!'
" 'That way of crimping your hair too much is the least becoming way
possible for you. Large, smooth curls suit you a great deal better.'
" 'Really?'
" 'Yes, really, madame; that wavy style only looks nice in fair hair.'
" 'Marriage? never, never! Marriage is a
commercialarrangement, for
which I was never made.'
"What a disheartening scene for a lover! Here was a
lonely woman,
without friends or kin, without the religion of love, without faith in
any
affection. Yet however
slightly she might feel the need to pour
out her heart, a
craving that every human being feels, it could only
be satisfied by gossiping with her maid, by
trivial and indifferent
talk. . . . I grieved for her.
"Justine unlaced her. I watched her carefully when she was at last
unveiled. Her maidenly form, in its rose-tinged whiteness, was visible
through her shift in the taper light, as dazzling as some silver
statue behind its gauze covering. No, there was no
defect that need
shrink from the
stolen glances of love. Alas, a fair form will
overcome the stoutest resolutions!
"The maid lighted the taper in the alabaster sconce that hung before
the bed, while her
mistress sat
thoughtful and silent before the fire.
Justine went for a warming-pan, turned down the bed, and helped to lay
her
mistress in it; then, after some further time spent in
punctiliously rendering various services that showed how seriously
Foedora respected herself, her maid left her. The
countess turned to
and fro several times, and sighed; she was ill at ease; faint, just
perceptible sounds, like sighs of
impatience, escaped from her lips.
She reached out a hand to the table, and took a flask from it, from
which she shook four or five drops of some brown
liquid into some milk
before
taking it; again there followed some
painful sighs, and the
exclamation, 'MON DIEU!'
"The cry, and the tone in which it was uttered, wrung my heart. By
degrees she lay
motionless. This frightened me; but very soon I heard
a sleeper's heavy, regular breathing. I drew the rustling silk
curtains apart, left my post, went to the foot of the bed, and gazed
at her with feelings that I cannot
define. She was so enchanting as
she lay like a child, with her arm above her head; but the sweetness
of the fair, quiet
visage, surrounded by the lace, only irritated me.
I had not been prepared for the
torture to which I was compelled to
submit.
" 'Mon Dieu!' that scrap of a thought which I understood not, but must
even take as my sole light, had suddenly modified my opinion of
Foedora. Trite or
profoundlysignificant,
frivolous or of deep import,
the words might be construed as
expressive of either pleasure or pain,
of
physical or of
mentalsuffering. Was it a prayer or a malediction,
a
forecast or a memory, a fear or a regret? A whole life lay in that
utterance, a life of
wealth or of penury; perhaps it contained a
crime!
"The
mystery that lurked beneath this fair
semblance of womanhood grew
afresh; there were so many ways of explaining Foedora, that she became
inexplicable. A sort of language seemed to flow from between her lips.
I put thoughts and feelings into the accidents of her breathing,
whether weak or regular, gentle, or labored. I shared her dreams; I
would fain have divined her secrets by
reading them through her
slumber. I hesitated among contradictory opinions and decisions
without number. I could not deny my heart to the woman I saw before
me, with the calm, pure beauty in her face. I
resolved to make one
more effort. If I told her the story of my life, my love, my
sacrifices, might I not
awaken pity in her or draw a tear from her who
never wept?
"As I set all my hopes on this last experiment, the sounds in the
streets showed that day was at hand. For a moment's space I pictured
Foedora waking to find herself in my arms. I could have
stolen softly
to her side and slipped them about her in a close
embrace. Resolved to
resist the cruel
tyranny of this thought, I
hurried into the salon,
heedless of any sounds I might make; but, luckily, I came upon a
secret door leading to a little
staircase. As I expected, the key was
in the lock; I slammed the door, went
boldly out into the court, and
gained the street in three bounds, without looking round to see
whether I was observed.
"A
dramatist was to read a
comedy at the
countess' house in two days'
time; I went
thither, intending to outstay the others, so as to make a
rather
singular request to her; I meant to ask her to keep the
following evening for me alone, and to deny herself to other comers;
but when I found myself alone with her, my courage failed. Every tick
of the clock alarmed me. It wanted only a quarter of an hour of
midnight.
" 'If I do not speak,' I thought to myself, 'I must smash my head
against the corner of the mantelpiece.'
"I gave myself three minutes' grace; the three minutes went by, and I
did not smash my head upon the
marble; my heart grew heavy, like a
sponge with water.
" 'You are
exceedingly amusing,' said she.
" 'Ah, madame, if you could but understand me!' I answered.
" 'What is the matter with you?' she asked. 'You are turning pale.'
" 'I am hesitating to ask a favor of you.'
"Her
gesture revived my courage. I asked her to make the appointment
with me.
" 'Willingly,' she answered' 'but why will you not speak to me now?'
" 'To be candid with you, I ought to explain the full scope of your
promise: I want to spend this evening by your side, as if we were
brother and sister. Have no fear; I am aware of your antipathies; you
must have divined me
sufficiently to feel sure that I should wish you
to do nothing that could be displeasing to you;
presumption, moreover,
would not thus approach you. You have been a friend to me, you have
shown me kindness and great
indulgence; know,
therefore, that
to-morrow I must bid you farewell.--Do not take back your word,' I
exclaimed,
seeing her about to speak, and I went away.
"At eight o'clock one evening towards the end of May, Foedora and I
were alone together in her
gothic boudoir. I feared no longer; I was
secure of happiness. My
mistress should be mine, or I would seek a
refuge in death. I had condemned my faint-hearted love, and a man who
acknowledges his
weakness is strong indeed.