Beaumesnil is not an aristocratic name by any means,--the grandfather of the late count, though a highly respected man, was simply M. Joseph Vert-Puis, a very wealthy banker."
"I know perfectly well that Mlle. Vert-Puis de Beaumesnil is a mere n.o.body, so far as birth is concerned, but--"
"But the numerous millions gild this recently enn.o.bled plebeian, do they not? Very well, though that number of millions may have to be divided by four or five, what would you say to a notice couched in the following terms:
"M. le Marquis de Maillefort, Prince Duc de Haut-Martel, etc., etc., has the honour to inform you of the marriage of Mlle. Herminie de Haut-Martel, with M. le Duc de Senneterre."
Madame de Senneterre, surprised beyond expression, gazed wonderingly at the hunchback, who continued:
"The marriage contract stipulates that all male children that may be born of this marriage shall take the name of Senneterre-Haut-Martel, which I fancy will sound quite as well as Noailles-Noailles, Rohan-Rochefort, or Montmorency-Luxembourg, and as Mlle. Herminie Haut-Martel is an only child, and I am very frugal in my tastes, the young couple will have, up to the time of my death, one hundred and fifty thousand francs a year to sustain their exalted rank in a suitable manner."
"I really do not understand you at all, M. de Maillefort. You have never been married, and you have no daughter."
"No, but what is there to prevent me from adopting one, and thus giving her my name and fortune?"
"Nothing, of course. But who are the parents of this girl you contemplate adopting?"
"She is an orphan, and, as I told you before, she is a music teacher, and supports herself by giving lessons."
"What!" exclaimed Madame de Senneterre, "that same creature Gerald is crazy about?"
"Enough, madame," said the marquis, sternly. "I will not permit any one to speak in that way in my presence of a young lady whom I love and esteem sufficiently to give her my name."
"But what you say is so strange--"
"Strange or not, do you accept my proposal, yes or no?"
"Accept--monsieur? Accept for a daughter-in-law--a--a person who has given music lessons for a living?"
"Such sensitiveness on your part is truly heroic, doubtless, but I must call your attention to the fact that your son has little or nothing, and that Mlle. Herminie de Maillefort, though she has done such a scandalous thing as to earn an honest living, would bring M. de Senneterre two hundred thousand francs a year, and an alliance with the Haut-Martel family. I also take the liberty of reminding you that your son will probably kill himself if he does not marry this young lady. I know you would rather see him dead than married to some one beneath him, for the mother of the Gracchi is not to be compared with you, so far as stoicism is concerned, but it is none the less certain that the extinction of the house of Senneterre in such a fashion would cause a frightful scandal, which would, I think, be even worse than a _mesalliance_, especially when a Senneterre makes a _mesalliance_ with a Maillefort de Haut-Martel."
"But, monsieur, every one will know that this young person is only your adopted child."
"All I can say in reply to that objection, madame, is that I, myself, could never have had so beautiful, so affectionate, and so truly n.o.ble a child."
"You know her well, then?"
"You certainly ask a singular question, madame. What! can you believe that I--being the man you know me to be--would give my name to a person who would not be an honour to that name?"
"But, monsieur," exclaimed Madame de Senneterre, in a tone of sorrowful reproach, "there can be no denying the fact that your adopted daughter has been a--a professional artiste."
"My adopted daughter, will, indeed, have the terrible misfortune to be and to have been a musical artiste of a high order. This is truly deplorable. I weep--I mourn--I bewail the fact. But, alas! you know the proverb, "The prettiest girl in the world has some fault.""
"And her patrons, do they belong to our set?"
"No, she is too proud for that."
"_Mon Dieu!_ marquis, you place me in a very embarra.s.sing position."
"I shall be able to put an end to this perplexity, I think. Listen attentively," continued M. de Maillefort, no longer in an ironical manner, but in firm, even stern tones. "I tell you plainly, once for all, that, if you refuse your consent, I shall go straight to Herminie, tell her exactly, what I intend to do for her, and prove to her that though, as a nameless and penniless girl, her dignity demanded the advances she asked from you, lest it might be said that she had forced herself upon the Senneterre family from ambitious or mercenary motives, as the adopted child of M. de Maillefort, who brings an ill.u.s.trious name and a fortune of two hundred thousand francs a year to her husband, she need feel no such scruples. As Herminie adores Gerald, and my reasoning is perfectly just and sensible, I think, in fact I am sure, that she will be guided by me. Your son will make the usual formal application for your consent, and then there is nothing more to be said."
"Monsieur--"
"It will pain Gerald a good deal, I am sure, to have to dispense with your consent, for he loves you--blindly--that is the proper word to use in this connection; but in order to spare him all remorse, I shall repeat your words to him, madame: "I had rather see him dead, than married to one beneath him." Atrocious, or, rather, senseless words, when I, myself, a.s.sured you that Gerald could not find a wife more worthy of him than the one he has chosen!"
"You surely would not create discord between my son and me, monsieur."
"I shall certainly do everything in my power to ensure Gerald"s peace of mind and happiness, since you are so stubborn and opinionated as to be willing to sacrifice both to your absurd prejudices--"
"That expression, monsieur--"
"These prejudices are not only absurd, madame, but after the adoption I propose, there is no longer even an excuse for them. One word more. If you have the good sense to prefer to live in peace and on affectionate terms with your son, and spare yourself, as well as him, a most deplorable scandal, you will go to Herminie"s home to-morrow--any further inquiries being entirely unnecessary after what I have told you about her."
"I--monsieur--I, go first to the home of this young person?"
"You will be obliged to degrade yourself to that extent, the degradation being the more terrible, as Herminie, for certain reasons, must remain ignorant of my intention of adopting her until after your visit. So it will be to Mlle. Herminie, the poor music teacher, that you will go to give your consent to her marriage with your son."
"Never, monsieur, never will I so lower myself as to do this thing."
"But remember that there is nothing really humiliating about this step, and that no one will witness it but me, for I shall be there at the time."
"I tell you that it is impossible, monsieur. Never will I subject myself to such a humiliation."
"Then, instead of making your son adore you by consenting to a thing you cannot prevent, Gerald will know exactly what your affection is worth, and dispense with your consent entirely."
"But you cannot expect me to come to such an important decision in a moment, as it were."
"So be it, madame. I will give you until to-morrow noon. I will call then to hear your decision, and, if it conforms alike to the dictates of common sense and maternal love, I will precede you by a few moments to Herminie"s home, in order that I may be there when you arrive. If you do not agree to this, I declare to you that your son will be married in less than six weeks."
Having said this, the marquis bowed low to Madame de Senneterre, and walked straight out of the room.
"I am satisfied that the egregious simpleton will do what I ask," he said to himself, "for her ambition and her avarice will both be so thoroughly gratified by this marriage that she will forget that objectionable feature,--the adoption. Besides, by one of those strange contradictions we so often see in poor, frail human nature, this woman, who in her obstinacy would drive her son to suicide, is as jealous of his affection as if she were the tenderest and most devoted of mothers; and, understanding how Gerald will adore her if she pretends to give a free consent to his marriage, she will go to Herminie, I am sure of it.
"But, alas! the game is only half won so far as I am concerned," mused the hunchback. "Will Herminie, who is so proud, consent to become my adopted child, when she knows the advantages which this adoption will give her, and which alone decided Madame de Senneterre to take the initiative? I am very much afraid that she will not. Did I not see how uncomfortable she felt when Ernestine insisted, not that she should share her wealth, but merely give up her lessons and remain with her?
And yet, she perhaps knows that Ernestine is her sister, for I can doubt it no longer,--Herminie is, and knows she is, the daughter of Madame de Beaumesnil.
"Under these circ.u.mstances will Herminie, proud and sensitive as she is, accept my offer? I am by no means certain of it, though I told Gerald"s mother so in order to frighten her. That, too, is the reason I desired that the marriage should be definitely arranged before I broached the subject of adoption at all. But I found that could not be managed.
Madame de Senneterre would have seen her son kill himself in her presence rather than consent to a _mesalliance_ with a poor girl without name or fortune. All I have been able to do is, perhaps, to induce Madame de Senneterre to make the desired advances to Herminie,--the poor orphan and music teacher. Afterwards we will see."
"I shall now go straight to M. de la Rochaigue. Having done all I can for Herminie, I must now see what I can do for Ernestine. I shall have to take the baron unawares, for, in his exasperation against me as the fell destroyer of his hopes of a seat in the Senate, he will refuse to see me, but, with Ernestine"s aid, I shall be able to surprise him, I think, and, fortunately for my plans, he is much more stupid than wicked."
And M. de Maillefort, reentering his carriage, was driven to M. de la Rochaigue"s house.
CHAPTER XXIII.
A TEMPTING BAIT.