"If you please."
"A n.o.ble slave of the needle," he continued, still looking in at the window. "The daughter of a duke, with the talents of a dressmaker!
_Where_ will ge--ge--genius next take up her abode?"
"Genius--since you are pleased to apply that sublime appellation to my poor capacities for wielding the most familiar and harmless weapon of my s.e.x--is no respecter of persons, as you see. You are an early visitor to-day, M. de Bois. Of course, you are on your way to the chateau?"
"I have let--let--letters for the count. He intrusted me yes--es--esterday with a package to take with me to the Chateau de Tremazan, where I was engaged to pa.s.s the evening, and I have brought him the replies. But before I play the postman, let me come in and talk to you, since you are the only person I can ever manage to talk to at all."
"Come in then, and welcome."
Gaston accepted the invitation with alacrity. He took a seat, and, regarding her work, remarked, "This must be for to-night"s ball; is it your own dress?"
"Mine? All these tucks for a dress of _mine_? No, indeed, it is Bertha"s, and I hope she will like the toilet I have planned; each tuck will be surmounted by a garland of ivy, left open at the front, and fastened where it breaks off, on either side, with blush roses. Then among her luxuriant curls a few sprigs of ivy must float, and perhaps a rose peep out. You may expect to see her looking very beautiful to-night."
M. de Bois sighed, and remained silent for a moment. Then he resumed the conversation by asking, "And the dress will be ready in time?"
"Before it is needed, I trust, for it is now well advanced. Fortunately my aunt"s dress was completed last night. But it was not new,--only a fresh combination of materials that had already been employed. Yet she was kind enough to be highly pleased."
"Well she might be! You are always wor--wor--working for the good of the whole family."
"What other return can I make for the good I have received?" replied Madeleine, with emotion. "Can I ever forget that, when I was left alone in the world, without refuge, without friends, almost without bread, my great-aunt extended to me her protection, supplied all my wants, virtually adopted me as her own child? Can I offer her too much grat.i.tude in return? Can I lavish upon her too much love? No one knows how well I love her and all that is hers! How well I love that dwelling which received the homeless orphan! People call the old chateau dreary and gloomy; to me it is a palace; its very walls are dear. I love the trees that yield me their shade,--the parks that you no doubt think a wilderness,--the rough, unweeded walks which I tread daily in search of flowers,--this ruined summer-house, where I have pa.s.sed hours of delicious calm,--all the now familiar objects that I first saw through my tears, before they were dried by the hand of affection; and I reflect with joy that probably I shall never quit the Heaven-provided home which has been granted me. I have been so very happy here."
"Real--eal--eally?" asked Gaston, doubtingly. "I fancied sometimes, when I saw the Countess and Count Tristan so--so--so severe to you, that"--
"Have they not the right to find fault with me when I fail to please them? That is only what I expect, and ought to bear patiently. I will not pretend to say that sometimes, when I have been misunderstood, and my best efforts have failed to bring about results that gratify them,--I will not say that my heart does not swell as though it would burst; but I console myself by reflecting that some far off, future day will come to make amends for all, and bring me full revenge."
"Re--re--revenge! You re--re--revenge?" cried Gaston, in astonishment.
"Yes, _revenge_!" laughed Madeleine. "You see what a vindictive creature I am! And I am positively preparing myself to enjoy this delightful revenge. I will make you the confidant of my secret machinations. This old chateau is lively enough now, and the presence of Bertha and Maurice preserve to my aunt the pleasant memory of her own youth. But by and by Maurice will go forth into the world, and perhaps we shall only see him from time to time, at long intervals. Bertha will marry"--
At these words M. de Bois gave a violent start, and, stammering unintelligibly, rose from his seat, upsetting his chair, walked to the window, brought destruction upon some of Madeleine"s vines by pulling them violently aside, to thrust out his head; then strode back, lifted the fallen chair, knocking down another, and with a flushed countenance seated himself again.
Madeleine went on, as if she had not noticed his abrupt movement.
"Solitude and _ennui_ might then oppress the Countess and even Count Tristan, and render their days burdensome. I am laying up a store of materials to enliven these scenes of weariness and loneliness. I have made myself quite a proficient in _piquet_, that I may pa.s.s long evenings playing with the count; I have noted and learned all the old airs that his mother delights to hear, because they remind her of her girlhood, and I will sing them to her when she is solitary and depressed. I will make her forget the absence of the dear ones who must leave such a void in her life; in a thousand ways I will soften the footsteps of age and infirmity as they steal upon her;--that will be the amends time will bring me,--that is the _revenge_ I seek."
"Ah! Mademoiselle Mad--ad--adeleine, you are an angel!"
"So far from an angel," answered Madeleine, gayly, "that you make me feel as though I had laid a snare, by my egotism, to entrap that ill-deserved compliment. Now let us talk about yourself and your own projects. Do you still hold to the resolution you communicated to me in our last conversation?"
"Yes, your advice has decided me."
"I should have been very impertinent if I had ventured to give you advice. I can hardly be taxed with that presumption. We were merely discussing an abstract question,--the use of faculties accorded us, and the best mode of obtaining happiness through their employment; and you chose to apply my general remarks to your particular case."
"You drew a picture which made me feel what a worth--orth--orthless mortal I am, and this incited me to throw off the garment of slothfulness, and put on armor for the battle of life."
"So be it! Now tell us what you have determined upon."
"My unfortunate imped--ed--ediment is my great drawback. Maurice hopes to become a lawyer; but that profession would be out of the ques--es--estion for me who have no power to utter my ideas. I could not enter the army, for what kind of an officer could I make? How should I ever manage to say to a soldier, "Go and brave death for your coun--oun--ountry"? I should find it easier to do myself than to say it.
Some diplomatic position I _might_ possibly fill. As speech, according to Talleyrand, was given to men to disguise their thoughts, a man who st--st--stammers is not in much danger of making known his private medita--a--ations."
"That is ingenious reasoning," replied Madeleine. "I hope something will grow out of it."
"It is grow--ow--ing already. Yesterday, at the Chateau de Tremazan, I had a long interview with the Marquis de Fleury. He expects to be sent as amba.s.sador to the United States. We are old friends. We talked, and I tol--ol--old"--
"You told him your views," said Madeleine, aiding him so quietly and naturally that her a.s.sistance was scarcely noticeable. "And what was concluded upon? for your countenance declares that you have concluded upon something. If the marquis goes to America, you will perhaps accompany him?"
"Yes, as sec--sec--sec--"
"As secretary?" cried Madeleine. "That will be an admirable position.
But America--ah! it is a long, long distance from Brittany! This is good news for you; but there are two persons to whom it will cause not a little pain."
"To who--o--om?" inquired Gaston, with suppressed agitation.
"To my cousin Bertha, and to me."
"Mademoiselle Ber--er--ertha! Will _she_ heed my absence?
She--she--she,--will she?" asked Gaston, confusedly.
"Yes--but take care; if you let me see how deeply that idea affects you, you will fail to play the diplomat in disguising your thoughts, for I shall divine your secret."
"My secret,--what--what secret? What is it you divine? What do you imagine? I mean."
"That you love Bertha,--love her as she deserves to be loved?"
"I? I?" replied M. de Bois, trying to speak calmly; but, finding the attempt in vain, he burst forth: "Yes, it is but too true; I love her with my whole soul; I love her pa.s.sionately; love her despairingly,--ay, _despairingly_!"
"And why _despairingly_?"
"Alas! she is so rich!" he answered, in a tone of chagrin.
"True, she is enc.u.mbered with a large and _un_-enc.u.mbered estate."
"A great misfortune for me!" sighed Gaston.
"A misfortune which you cannot help, and which Bertha will never remember when she bestows her heart upon one who is worthy of the gift."
"How can she ever deem _me_ worthy? Even if I succeed in making myself a name,--a position; even if I become all that you have caused me to dream of being,--this dreadful imped--ed--ediment, this stammering which renders me ridiculous in the eyes of every one, in her eyes even, will"--
"Your stammering is only the effect of timidity," answered Madeleine, soothingly. "Believe me, it is nothing more; as you overcome your diffidence and gain self-possession, you will find that it disappears.
For instance, you have been talking to me for some time with ease and fluency."
"To _you_, ah, yes; with _you_ I am always at my ease,--I have always confidence. It is not difficult to talk to one for whom I have so much affection,--_so much_, and yet not _too much_."
"That proves fluent speech possible."
"But to any one else, if I venture to open my heart, I hesitate,--I get troubled,--I--I stammer,--I make myself ridic--ic--iculous!"
"Not at all."