Cosmopolis -- Volume 4

ight or to the left, and undoubtedly Boleslas would have been killed. He escaped with a fracture of the forearm, which would

, and he had begun by missing his rival. Instead of provoking him immediately in the salon of Villa Steno, he had waited, and another had had time to substitute himself for the one he had wished to chastise. The other, whose death would at least have given a tragical issue to the adventure, Boleslas had scarcely touched. He had hoped in striking Dorsenne to execute at least one traitor whom he considered as having trifled with the most sacred of confidences. He had simply succeeded in giving that false friend occasion to humiliate him bitterly, leaving out of the question that he had rendered i

has talked.... I have told you before, I am sure of my i

er daughter at the races

ss of the question surprised too much for h

" asked the

h an eagerness in which Boleslas dist

dame Ma

besides," adding: "Do you know the engagement of Ardea and little Hafner is public? They were all three ther

again question

im at you as he aimed, without trembling. For he did not tremble. And guess what he replied? That he thought of a recipe of Stendhal's-to recite from

recalls the word o

at snob of a Figon reco

from a recipe of a vale

ot settled by us, I s

in peace, the bitter food, the exasperating and inefficacious rancor against people and against fate, with which Gorka at that moment felt his heart to be so full. The presence of his former mistress at the races, and on that afternoon, wounded him more cruelly than the rest. He did not doubt that she knew through Maitland, himself, certainly informed by Chapron, of the two duels and of his injury. It was on her account that he had fought, and that very day she appeared in public, smiling, coquetting, as if two years of passion had not united their lives, as if he were to her merely a social acquaintance, a guest at her dinners

ich yielded to no one the care of waiting upon him. To-day she had allowed him to go to a duel without seeing him. He had returned. She had not even inquired as to his wound. The doctor had dressed it without her presen

e leave for England this evening or in the

e strength to be severe, when he was in danger of death. In the face of that evidence of the desertion of all connected with him, Boleslas suffered one of those accesses of discouragement, deep, absolute, irremediable, in which one longs to sleep forever. He asked himself: "Wer

e dark circles beneath the eyes, the dryness of the lips and their bitter expression, the feverish glitter, above all, in the eyes, related more eloquently than words the terrible agony of which she was the victim. The past twenty-four hours had acted upon her like certain long illnesses, in which it seems that the very essence of the organism is altered. She was another person. The rapid metamorphosis, so tragical and so striking, caused Boleslas to forget his own

ut seeing me again. I should not have dared to ask it of you, and yet it wa

e speak," she continued, stopping by a gesture her husband's reply, "you can answer me afterward.... Had it only been a

ld remember, however, that I am in no condition to discuss with you so cruel a question.... I thought

ing but my pain. It was then that, in my mental agony, I recalled words repeated to me by my father: 'When one suffers, he should look his grief in the face, and it will always teach him som

the young man; "the past which has

or the first time that your parents' separation had the effect of saddening your heart at that epoch. It is that which perverted your character.... And I read in advance Luc's history in yours.... Listen, Boleslas! I speak to you as I would speak before God! My first feeling when that thought presented itself to my mind was not to resume life with you; such a life would be henceforth too bitter. No, it was to say to myself, I will have my son to myself. He shall feel my influence alone. I saw you set out

ithin me something that will never come to life again. I feel that for years I shall carry a weight on my mind and on my heart at the thought that you could have betrayed me as you have. But I feel that for our boy this separation on which I had resolv

had been moved by the reference to his son's love for him, and he felt that if he did not become reconciled with Maud at that moment his future domestic life would be ended. There was a little of each sentiment in the few words he added to the anxiety of his question. "Although you have spoken to me very severely, and although you might have said the same thing in other terms,

ark, "that during the time in which you are obliged to keep your room no one shall be admitted...

t proof that the jealousy of the loving woman still existed beneath the indignation of

orders for the management of things during our absence. We will go this

oleslas, "and that will be no gr

d of herself. "You must never write to her, you m

ied Boleslas, taking her h

d she began to realize herself her promise of pardon, for she rear

as in my words of yesterday, in my assurance that I love you in spite of my faults. It is th

ng her anxious, now inspired her with horror. That man with the mobile and complaisant conscience had already forgiven himself. It sufficed him to conceive the plan of a reparation of years, and to respect himself for it-as if that was really sufficient-for the difficult task. At least during the

satisfied

Rome," said she, evasively, and it

ot confessed to her husband, the sorrow of a broken friendship was joined in her to the sorrows of a betrayed wife. The sudden discovery of the infamy of Alba's mother had not destroyed her strong affection for the young

. She receives, she provokes her confidence with the touching gravity of a counsellor. The younger friend is curious and admiring. She shows herself in all the truth of that graceful awakening of thoughts and emotions which precede her own period before marriage. And when there is, as was the case with Alba Steno, a certain discord of soul between that younger friend and her mother, the affection for the sister chosen becomes so deep that it can not be broken without wounds on both sides. It was for that reason th

perfidious Dorsenne? Who will console her when she is sad? Who will defend her against her mother? I was perhaps wrong in writing to the woman

ty, the nostalgia which possessed her at the thought of an affection sacrificed forever. Hers was a nature

vague remorse which Maud herself felt with regard to the terrible note sent to Madame Steno in the presence of the young girl, was only too true. When the servant had

and to see if she has ne

th embarrassment, and, at the same moment, Madame Steno, who had just ope

do not feel

passage, it had sufficed to disconcert the young girl. For not a moment did she doubt that the note was the cause of that extraordinary metamorphosis in the Countess's aspect and attitude. The fact that Maud would not receive her, her friend, in her room was not less strange. What was happening? What did the letter contain? What were they hiding from her? If she had, the day before, felt the "needle in the heart" only on divining a scene of violent explanation between her mother and Boleslas Gorka, how would she have been agonized t

so considerate, had no sooner foreseen the necessity tha

heart! Her mother was about to show her the note! Her joy was short-lived! The note remained where the Countess had slipped it, after having nervously folded it, in the opening in her glo

a duel with Florent Chapron

h, the Germans, the Jews-and which mean nothing.... I repeated the remark in jest to Gorka!.... I leave you to judge.... Is it my fault if, instead of laughing at it, he insulted poor Florent, and if the absurd encounter resulted from it? And Maud, who writes me that she will never pardon me, that I am a false friend, that I did it expressly to exasperate her husband.... Ah, let her watch her husband, let her lock him up, if he is mad!

with regard to her mother, the object until then of such admiration and affection, she had passed through many stages of mistrust. To talk with

in-law of Maitland, of the new friend with whom Madame Steno had become infatuated during the absence of the Polish Count, and what a brother-in-law! He of whom Dorsenne said: "He would set Rome on fire to cook an egg for his sister's husband." When Madame Steno announced that duel to her daughter, an invincible and immediate deduction possessed the poor child-Florent was fighting for his brother-in-law. And on account of whom, if not of Madame Steno? The thought

r daughter there and then, it was because the letter was not fit to be shown. But she heard on the following day only the description of the duel, related by

has had a fit of insanity since the duel, and that they prevent him from seeing any one....

man's passion, and who then wish to avoid all blame for the deeds or words of that man. In this case, Boleslas's fury and his two incomprehensible duels, fifteen minutes apart, justified the story. When it became known in the

Perso', whose simple 'bettola' became, during those few days, a veritable place of pilgrimage, and who sold a quantity of wine

lle Steno, relating to her the unforeseen result, "I should perha

twithstanding the heat, already beginning, of the dangerous Roman summer, he constantly deferred his return to Paris until the morrow. What had she guessed in consequence of the encounter, the details of which she had asked of him with an emotion scarcely hidden in her eyes of a blue as clear, as transparent, as impenetrable at the same time, as the water of certain Alpine lakes at the foot of the glaciers. He thought he was doing right in corroborating the story of B

a line of explanation?.... No.... There is something else.".... The nature of the "something else" the young girl comprehended, on recalling her mother's face during the perusal of Maud's letter. During the ten days following that s

ther, first toward Gorka, then toward Maitland. That torture she had undergone during the entire dinner, at the conclusion of which Dorsenne essayed to chat gayly with her. She sat beside the painter, and the man's very breath, his gestures, the sound of his voice, his manner of eating and of drinking, the knowledge of his very proximity, had caused her such keen suffering that it was impossible for her to take anyth

with her dewy lips, with her voluptuous eyes shaded by their long lashes, the dogaresse looked in the centre of that table like an empress and like a courtesan. She resembled the Caterina Cornaro, the gallant queen of the island of Cypress, painted by Titian, and whose name she worthily bore. Fo

Lydia suspect them, too? But was it possible that her mother, whom she knew to be so generous, so magnanimous, so kind, could have that smile of sovereign

had related two or three literary anecdotes. "Instead of listening to your friend Dor

on a couch, continued: "Has what I told you a few weeks since been realized? You do not know all th

Leo Thirteenth as godfather, with a princess of the house of B

expression of bitterness. "Are you satisfied with your pupil?" she added. "I am progressing.... I laugh-when I wish to weep.... But yo

place?" asked Dorsenne, obeying

l of the Dame

so delicate in the white framework of their bonnets. In short, an ideal retreat for one of my heroines. My old friend Montfanon took me there. As we ascended to that tower, six weeks ago, we heard the shrill voices of ten little girls, singing: 'Questo cuor tu la vedrai'. It was a procession of catechists, going in the opposite direction, with tapers which flickered dimly in the remnant of daylight.... It was exquisite.... But, now permit me to laugh at the thought of Montfanon's cho

fe seems to me so wretched and sad.... But I shall never forget that expression. She saw God!.... Several women were present with very touching faces, and there were many devotees.... The Cardinal is very venerable.... All were by Fanny's side, like

find it melancholy that this adorable saint should be the daughter of a thief?.... How I wish that you were really my pupil, and that it would not be too absurd to give you here, in this corner of the hall, a lesson in intellectuality!.... I would say to you, when you see one of those anomalies which renders you indignant, think of the causes. It is so easy. Alth

ideas of that order which proved her veritable origin. "But you do not mention the sorrow. This is what one can not do-look upon as a tapestry,

e young girl. "I do not know when she will begin to judge her father, but that she already

the Prince, but with a trace of suffering upon her beautifu

person to whom he was addressing himself. They were no longer the couple who, in the early days of their betrotha

he, "the decrystallization has c

imes when I ask myself if it would not be my duty to tell her the truth about her marriage, such

oney, rest assured. It is necessary that the millions be paid for here below, it is one of their ransoms.... But I sha

," said Alba. "I bes

en. "It is the last We

after her grandson'

id Alba, "will you s

I must take leave this evening, Madame de Sauve, with whom you

en, with a beseeching glance: "Return, at least. Promise me that you will return after your two visits. They will be over in an

te, we shall meet to-morrow, at

id the young girl