"A degradation we could never have antic.i.p.ated!" rejoined Count Tristan.
"She has disgraced her family,--disgraced our proud name forever!"
responded the countess.
"Do not say that, aunt!" pleaded Bertha. "She has not even used your name, though it is as rightfully hers as yours. Do you not observe that she has only allowed herself to be called by her middle name, and that every one speaks of her as Mademoiselle Melanie?"
Bertha, as she spoke, bent caressingly over her aunt, and took her hand.
But the attempt to soften the infuriated aristocrat was futile.
The countess replied, with increasing wrath, "I tell you she has humiliated herself and us to the last degree! She has brought shame upon our heads!"
Gaston de Bois was walking up and down the room, thrusting his fingers through his hair, flinging out his arms spasmodically, and, now and then, giving vent to a muttered e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, which sounded alarmingly emphatic. When he heard these words, he could restrain himself no longer. He came boldly forward, and planting himself directly in front of the countess, unawed by her forbidding manner, exclaimed,--
"No, madame; that I deny! Mademoiselle de Gramont has brought no shame upon her family!"
"She no longer belongs to my family!" retorted the countess. "I disown her henceforward and forever!"
"And you do rightly, my mother," added the count. "We will never acknowledge her, never see her again! Maurice and Bertha, we expect that you will abide by our determination."
Maurice did not reply; he stood leaning against the mantel-piece, lost in thought, his eyes bent down, his head resting upon his hands.
Bertha, however, answered with spirit. "I make no promise of the kind.
Nothing could induce me to cast off my dear Madeleine!"
M. de Bois seized her hand, and, involuntarily carrying it to his lips, said, with mingled enthusiasm and veneration, "You are as n.o.ble as I thought you were! I knew you would not forsake her!"
Bertha raised her eyes to his face with an expression which thrilled him, as she answered, "You will defend her, M. de Bois; you, who can perhaps disperse the cloud of mystery by which her life has been enveloped for the last four years. You will tell my aunt how Madeleine has lived,--what she has done. You will tell us _all about her_."
"That I will, gladly!" replied he. "That is, _if I can_. I never in my life so much desired the pow--ow--ower of spee--ee--eech!"
He broke off, and, in an undertone, gave vent to certain exclamations which indistinctly reached the ears of the countess and Bertha.
Their amazed looks did not escape his notice, and he continued: "Ladies, I ought to ask your pardon; possibly my expressions have sounded to you somewhat profane; I am under the sad necessity of using very strong language. I cannot loosen my tongue except by the aid of these forcible expletives, and I must--_must_ speak! For I, who have known all Mademoiselle Madeleine"s n.o.ble impulses, can best explain to you her con--on--onduct."
The last word, which was the only one upon which he stammered, was followed by another emphatic e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n.
Bertha, without heeding this interruption, asked, "And have you known where Madeleine was concealed all this time?"
"Yes, mademoiselle, I knew."
"And it was you who a.s.sisted her to leave Brittany?"
"It _was_ I! That was about the first good action which brightened my life, and--and--and"--(another muttered oath to a.s.sist his articulation) "and I hope it was only a commencement."
"Tell us--tell us everything quickly," prayed Bertha.
"Mademoiselle Madeleine, when she determined to leave the Chateau de Gramont,--when she resolved to cease to be dependent,--when, in spite of her n.o.ble birth, which was to her only an enc.u.mbrance, she purposed to gain a livelihood by honest industry,--confided her project to me. And what good she did me in making me feel that I was worthy enough of her esteem to be trusted! She first committed to my charge her family diamonds, her sole possession, and ordered me to dispose of them"--
"Her diamonds! those which have been in her family for generations! What sacrilege!" cried the countess, in accents of horror.
"Pardon me, madame; it would have been sacrilege, she thought, and so did I, if she had kept them when their sale could have prevented her being the unhappy recipient of the unwilling _charity_ of her relatives."
"Go on--go on!" urged Bertha. "How did she leave the chateau? How could she travel?"
"I obtained her a pa.s.sport, for it would have been running too great a risk if she had attempted to travel without one. The pa.s.sport had to be signed by two witnesses. Fortunately, two of my friends at Rennes were about to leave the country; I selected them as witnesses, because they could not be questioned; I told them the whole story, and bound them to secrecy. We took out the pa.s.sport for England to divert pursuit; but, Mademoiselle Madeleine only went to Paris, and it was not necessary that her pa.s.sport should be _vised_ if she remained there."
"But the diamonds,--they were those Madame de Fleury wore and which I recognized!" exclaimed Bertha.
"I made a false step there; but it was just like me to bungle,"
continued Gaston. "I knew that the Jew, Henriques, often had transactions with the Marquis de Fleury. I took the diamonds to another Jew from whom I concealed my name, and suggested his taking them to Henriques, hinting that the marquis would probably become their purchaser. The marquis is a _connoisseur_ of jewels; and, as you are aware, at once secured them. The sum realized was sufficient to supply the simple wants of Mademoiselle Madeleine for years. But this did not satisfy her,--her plan was to work. When she heard that the diamonds were in M. de Fleury"s possession, she embroidered a robe upon which the lilies and shamrock were closely imitated, and took her work to Vignon, Madame de Fleury"s dressmaker. Vignon was amazed at the great skill and taste displayed in the design and execution, and offered to give the embroiderer as much employment as she desired. Madame de Fleury being the most influential of Vignon"s patrons, the dress was exhibited to her. She was at once struck and charmed by the coincidence that allowed her to become the possessor of a dress upon which the exact design of her new jewels had been imitated. She asked a thousand questions of Vignon, who gladly monopolized all the credit of inventing this novel pattern. From that moment Mademoiselle Madeleine"s "fairy fingers"
commenced their marvels under the celebrated _couturiere"s_ direction, and Vignon daily congratulated herself upon the mysterious treasure she had discovered. Mademoiselle Madeleine now determined to remain in Paris incognita. She worked night and day, scarcely allowing herself needful rest; but, alas! she worked with a ceaseless heartache,--a heartache on your account, Maurice, for she knew how wildly you were searching for her; and when you fell ill"--
Maurice interrupted him: "It was she who watched beside me at night! I knew it! I have always been convinced of it. Was I not right?"
"I was bound not to tell you, but there can be no need of concealment now. Yes, you _are_ right. When the _soeur de bon secours_ we had engaged to take care of you during the day, left, and would have been replaced, according to the usual custom, by another to watch through the night, we told her no watcher was needed before morning. Mademoiselle Madeleine made herself a garb resembling that worn by the sisterhood; and, every night, when the good sister we had hired left, Mademoiselle Madeleine took her place. We thought your delirium would prevent your recognizing her."
"Probably it did, at first," returned Maurice; "but, for many nights before I spoke to you; I was conscious, I was sure of her presence."
"When you did speak, I was startled enough," resumed Gaston; "and it was a sad revelation to Mademoiselle Madeleine; for, when your reason was restored, she could not venture any more to come near you."
"Did she go to Dresden? How came my birthday handkerchief to be sent from Dresden?" asked Bertha.
"That was another piece of stupidity of mine. You see what a blockhead I have been. Mademoiselle Madeleine wished to send some token of a.s.surance that she thought of you still; but it was necessary that you should not know she was in Paris. I had the package conveyed to a friend of mine in Dresden, and desired him to remove the envelope and send the parcel to Bordeaux, though you were in Paris at the time. It would not have been prudent to let you suspect that Mademoiselle Madeleine was aware of your sojourn in the metropolis. But, when the postmark induced Maurice to start for Dresden, I saw what a fool I had been. It was just like me to commit some absurdity,--I always do! I could not dissuade Maurice from going to Dresden; but Mademoiselle Madeleine wrote a note which I enclosed to my friend, and desired to have it left at the hotel where Maurice was staying. After that I was more careful not to commit blunders. The other birthday tokens, you received, Mademoiselle Bertha, I always contrived to send you by private hand; thus, there was no postmark to awaken suspicion."
"But how came Madeleine here in America?" inquired Bertha.
"When the Marquis de Fleury was appointed amba.s.sador to the United States, Mademoiselle Madeleine learned that Madame de Fleury sorely lamented her hard fate, and mourned over the probability that she would be obliged to have all her dresses sent from Paris. This would be a great inconvenience, for she often liked to have a costume improvised upon the spur of the moment, and completed with fabulous rapidity.
Mademoiselle Madeleine had frequently thought of America, and felt that the new country must present a field where she could work more advantageously than in Paris. She desired Vignon to suggest to Madame de Fleury that one of the a.s.sistants in her favorite _couturiere"s_ establishment,--the one with whose designs Madame de Fleury was already acquainted,--might be tempted, by the certainty of the marchioness"s patronage, to visit America. Madame de Fleury was contented, and immediately proposed that Mademoiselle Melanie should sail in the same steamer. Vignon allowed two of her work-women to accompany her. The sum Mademoiselle Madeleine had realized from her diamonds enabled her to hire a modest house in Washington, and to furnish it tastefully. On her arrival she sent for Mr. Hilson. Perhaps you remember him, Mademoiselle Bertha? He once dined at the Chateau de Gramont."
Here the count uttered an exclamation of violent displeasure, but M. de Bois went on,--
"He had requested Mademoiselle Madeleine if she ever visited America to let him know. He called upon her at once, and she frankly told him the story of her trials, and the conclusion to which they had forced her. He highly approved of her energy, her zeal, and spirit. She made him promise to keep her rank and name a secret. He brought his wife and daughter to see her, and they became her stanch, admiring, and helpful friends. Through them alone, she would quickly have been drawn into notice; but a more powerful medium to popularity was at work. The sensation produced by Madame de Fleury"s toilets caused all Washington to flock to the exhibition-rooms of "Mademoiselle Melanie," who was known to be her _couturiere_. Soon, it became a favor for "Mademoiselle Melanie" to receive new customers. She was forced to move to the elegant mansion where she now resides. It is one of the grandest houses in Washington, and Mademoiselle Melanie has only one more payment to make before it becomes her own. The fact is, people have gone crazy about her. Those who seek her merely upon business, when they come into her presence, are impressed with the conviction that she is not merely their equal, but their superior, and treat her with involuntary deference. She is rapidly becoming rich, and she has the glory of knowing that it is through the labor of her own dainty hands, her own "fairy fingers!""
"Oh, all she has done was truly n.o.ble!" said Bertha, with enthusiasm.
"It was disgraceful!" cried the countess, fiercely. "She might better have starved! She has torn down her glorious escutcheon to replace it by a mantua-maker"s sign. She has stooped to make dresses!--to receive customers! Abominable!"
M. de Bois, for a moment forgetting the courtesy due to the rank and years of the countess, replied indignantly, "Madame, did she not make _your_ dresses for three years? Have you not been one of her customers?
An unprofitable customer? The _profit_ was the only difference between what she did at the _Chateau de Gramont_ and what she does in the city of Washington!"
"Sir!" exclaimed the countess, giving him a look of rebuke, which was intended to silence these unpalatable truths.
"You are right, M. de Bois," answered Bertha, not noticing the furious glance of her aunt. "That was a random shaft of yours, but it hits the mark, and strikes me as well as my aunt; yet I thank you for it; I thank you for defending Madeleine; I thank you for befriending her. I shall never forget it--never!"
Bertha frankly stretched out her hand to him; he took it with joyful emotion.
"Whom would she have to defend her if I did not, since her family discard her? Since even an able young lawyer utters not a word to plead her cause?" he added, looking reproachfully at Maurice. "But she shall never lack a defender while I live, for I love her as a sister! I venerate her as a saint. To me she is the type of all that is best and n.o.blest in the world! The type of that which is greater, more valuable than glory, more useful than fame, more _n.o.ble_ than the blood of countesses and d.u.c.h.esses--_honest labor!_"
Bertha"s responsive look spoke her approval.