The Deputy of Arcis by Honoré de Balzac (reading in the dark .txt) 📖

the help of a very clever seeker, the mother-superior of a convent at Arcis."

"Very good; then why employ the delay in holding him at arm's-length,--a proceeding which will only draw him towards you?"

"My dear moralist, I don't admit your theory in the least. As for Monsieur de Sallenauve, he will be much too busy with his duties in the Chamber to think of me. Besides, he is a man who is full of self-respect; he will be mortified by my manner, which will seem to him both ungrateful and unjust. If I try to put two feet of distance between us, he will put four; you may rely on that."

"And _you_, my dear?" asked Madame de Camps.

"How do you mean?--I?"

"You who are not busy, who have no Chamber to occupy your mind; you who have, I will agree, a great deal of self-respect, but who know as little about the things of the heart as the veriest school-girl,--what will become of you under the dangerous system you are imposing upon yourself?"

"If I don't love him when near, I shall certainly love him still less at a distance."

"So that when you see him take his ostracism coolly, your self-love as a woman will not be piqued."

"Certainly not; that is precisely the result I desire."

"And if you find, on the contrary, that he complains of you, or if he does not complain, that he suffers from your treatment, will your conscience tell you absolutely nothing?"

"It will tell me that I am doing right, and that I could not do otherwise."

"And if success attends him and fame with its hundred voices talks of him, how will you think of him?"

"As I think of Monsieur Thiers and Monsieur Berryer."

"And Nais, who adores him and will probably say, the first time he dines with you, 'Ah! mamma, how well he talks!'--"

"If you are going to argue on the chatter of a child--"

"And Monsieur de l'Estorade, who already irritates you? He is beginning to-day to sacrifice him to the spirit of party; shall you silence him every time he makes some malevolent insinuation about Monsieur de Sallenauve, and denies his honor and his talent?--you know the judgment people make on those who do not think as we do."

"In short," said Madame de l'Estorade, "you are trying to make me admit that the surest way to think of a person is to put him out of sight."

"Listen to me, my dear," said Madame de Camps, with a slight touch of gravity. "I have read and re-read your letters. You were there your own self, more natural and less quibbling than you are now, and an impression has remained upon my mind: it is that Monsieur de Sallenauve has touched your heart, though he may not have entered it."

Madame de l'Estorade made a gesture of denial, but the confessor went on:--

"I know that idea provokes you; you can't very well admit to me what you have studiously denied to yourself. But what is, is. We don't say of a man, 'A sort of magnetism issues from him, one feels his eye without meeting it'; we don't cry out, 'I am invulnerable on the side of love,' without having had some prickings of it."

"But so many things have happened since I wrote that nonsense."

"True, he was only a sculptor then, and before long he may be a minister,--not like Monsieur de Rastignac, but like our great poet, Canalis."

"I like sermons with definite deductions," said Madame de l'Estorade, with a touch of impatience.

"That is what Vergniaud said to Robespierre on the 31st of May, and I reply, with Robespierre, Yes, I'll draw my conclusion; and it is against your self-confidence as a woman, who, having reached the age of thirty-two without a suspicion of what love is, cannot admit that at this late date she may be subjected to the common law."

"But what I want is a practical conclusion," said Madame de l'Estorade, tapping her foot.

"My practical conclusion,--here it is," replied Madame Octave. "If you will not persist in the folly of swimming against the current, I see no danger whatever in your being submerged. You are strong; you have principles and religion; you adore your children; you love Monsieur de l'Estorade, their father, in them. With all that ballast you cannot sink."

"Well?" said Madame de l'Estorade, interrogatively.

"Well, there is no need to have recourse to violent measures, the success of which is very problematical. Remain as you are; build no barricades when no one attacks you. Don't excite tempests of heart and conscience merely to pacify your conscience and quiet your heart, now ruffled only by a tiny breeze. No doubt between a man and a woman the sentiment of friendship does take something of the character ordinarily given to love; but such friendship is neither an impossible illusion nor is it a yawning gulf."

"Then," said Madame de l'Estorade, with a thoughtful air, "do you wish me to make a friend of Monsieur de Sallenauve?"

"Yes, dear, in order not to make him a fixed idea, a regret, a struggle,--three things which poison life."

"But my husband, who has already had a touch of jealousy?"

"As for your husband, I find him somewhat changed, and not for the better. I miss that deference he always showed to you personally, to your ideas and impressions,--a deference which honored him more than he thought, because there is true greatness in the power to admire. I may be mistaken, but it seems to me that public life is spoiling him a little. As you cannot be with him in the Chamber of peers, he is beginning to suspect that he can have a life without you. If I were you, I should watch these symptoms of independence, and not let the work of your lifetime come to nought."

"Do you know, my dear," said Madame de l'Estorade, laughing, "that you are giving me advice that may end in fire and slaughter?"

"Not at all. I am a woman forty-five years of age, who has always seen things on their practical side. I did not marry my husband, whom I loved, until I had convinced myself, by putting him to the test, that he was worthy of my esteem. I don't make life; I take it as it comes,--trying to put order and _possibility_ into all the occurrences it brings to me. I an neither the frenzied passion of Louise de Chaulieu, nor the insensible reason of Renee de Maucombe. I am a Jesuit in petticoats, persuaded that rather wide sleeves are better than sleeves that are tight to the wrist; and I have never gone in search of the philosopher's stone--"

At this instant Lucas opened the door of the salon and announced,--

"Monsieur le Comte de Sallenauve."

His mistress gave him a look inquiring why he had disobeyed her orders, to which Lucas replied by a sign implying that he did not suppose the prohibition applied in this instance.

Madame de Camps, who had never yet seen the new deputy, now gave her closest attention to a study of him.

Sallenauve explained his visit by his great desire to know how matters had gone at Ville d'Avray, and whether Marie-Gaston had been deeply affected by his return there. As for the business which detained him in Paris, he said he had so far met with no success. He had seen the prefect of police, who had given him a letter to Monsieur de Saint-Esteve, the chief of the detective police. Aware of the antecedents of that man, Monsieur de Sallenauve expressed himself as much surprised to find a functionary with extremely good manners and bearing; but he held out faint hope of success. "A woman hiding in Paris," he said, "is an eel in its safest hole." He (Sallenauve) should continue the search the next day with the help of Jacques Bricheteau; but if nothing came of it, he should go in the evening to Ville d'Avray, for he did not, he said, share Madame de l'Estorade's security as to Gaston's state of mind.

As he was taking leave, Madame de l'Estorade said to him,--

"Do not forget Nais' ball which takes place the day after to-morrow. You will affront her mortally if you fail to be present. Try to bring Monsieur Gaston with you. It might divert his mind a little."


V. CHILDREN

On his return from the theatre Monsieur Octave de Camps declared that it would be long before they caught him at a _fairy_ piece again. But Nais, on the contrary, still under the spell of its marvels gave a lively recital of the scene, which showed how much her imagination was capable of being stirred.

As Madame de Camps and her husband walked away together, the former remarked,--

"That child is really very disquieting. Madame de l'Estorade develops her too much; I should not be surprised if she gave her a great deal of trouble in future years."

It would be difficult to mark the precise moment in our contemporary habits and customs when a new species of religion, which might be called child-idolatry, appeared. Nor shall we find it easier to discover by what species of influence this worship has reached its present enormous development among us. But, although unexplained, the fact exists and ought to be recorded by every faithful historian of the great and the little movements of society. In the family of to-day children have taken the place of the household gods of the ancients, and whoever does not share this worship is not a morose and sour spirit, nor a captious and annoying reasoner,--he is simply an atheist.

Try to amuse one of these beloved adored ones, all puffed up, as they naturally are, by a sense of their importance, with dolls and toys and Punch-and-Judys, as in the days of our unsophisticated innocence! Nonsense! Boys must have ponies and cigarettes, and the reading of novelettes; and girls, the delight of playing hostess, giving afternoon dances, and evening parties at which the real Guignol of the Champs Elysees and Robert Houdin appear,--the entertainment being announced on the invitation cards. Sometimes, as now in the case of Nais de l'Estorade, these little sovereigns obtain permission to give a ball in _grown-up_ style,--so much so, that policemen are stationed about the doors, and Delisle, Nattier, and Prevost provide the toilets and the decorations.

With the character we have already seen in Nais, it may be said that no one was better fitted than she for the duties that devolved upon her by the abdication of her mother. This abdication took place before the evening of the ball itself, for it was Mademoiselle Nais de l'Estorade who, in her own name, invited her guests to do her the honor to pass the evening _chez elle_; and as Madame de l'Estorade would not allow the parody to go as far as printed cards, Nais spent several days writing her notes of invitation, taking care to put in the corner, in conspicuous letters, the sacramental word, "Dancing."

Nothing could be more curious, or, as Madame de Camps might have said, more alarming, than the self-possession of this little girl of fourteen, behaving precisely as she had seen her mother do on like occasions; stationed, to receive her company, at the door of the salon, and marking by her manner the proper grades of welcome, from eager cordiality to a coldness that verged on disdain. To her best friends she gave her hand in truly English style; for the rest she