Chapter VII: Part 7

Julien submitted, because he was entirely devoted to her, and also because his spirit was loyal to that indefinable strain of heroism which had guided his life and restrained the first impulses of his youth. He was still able to conquer his passions, having never allowed them to dominate him entirely. Moreover, this romance of pure love, in the perfume-laden darkness, appealed to his imagination, and to the artist those poetic nights were intoxicating festivals. That garden had dark recesses and imposing masses of foliage, such as we see in Watteau's pictures. The appearance of Julie, charmingly dressed, not over tall, and of graceful outline in her simple gown, was in harmony with that distinctive savor which makes of Watteau a serious painter, a realistic and thoroughly alive Italian, amid conventional surroundings and in an age of affectation. There was a secluded nook where a tall white marble urn, standing high upon an ivy-wreathed pedestal, stood forth vaguely in the darkness, like a spectre, against the black background of the trees. Bluish, indistinguishable lights flitted over the foliage, and the shadows of the branches played about the marble, whose outlines constantly disappeared, although its shape was always graceful and majestic.

Thither Julien repaired to wait for Julie, as soon as his mother had gone to bed, and, when she approached, as smiling and tranquil as happiness itself, with her silk petticoats shimmering in the darkness and her lovely bare arms holding up her skirts, Julien fancied that he was looking upon some modern muse who ruled his destiny, bringing him promises of future bliss with all the charms and fascinations of present real life.

They must enjoy the present without giving too much thought to the morrow, for the uncertainty of future events made it impossible for them to form definite plans. They did not know yet whether they could live on thus, deserted by society, forgotten and at peace in that garden which had become an earthly paradise for love; or whether, ejected from the pavilion by inexorable creditors, they would go to seek an attic chamber in some suburb, with a garden on the window-sill. They proposed to face everything together; that was the only absolute certainty, the only irrevocable determination.

VI

Two weeks had passed since the Marquis d'Estrelle's death, and, after search had been made in every conceivable place, there was no trace of a will. It was generally believed that there was one; no one dared say aloud that the marchioness had persuaded him not to make one. There were divers indications that Marcel believed that to be a fact, but it was of no use to suspect, they could prove nothing, and the consequences were enforced with overbearing placidity; that is to say, the marchioness, while holding fast to the rights guaranteed by her marriage contract, also inherited all the property of the deceased, and made no suggestion of any sum being set aside to pay the late count's debts. And yet such a provision seemed to be implied by the terms of Julie's marriage contract. It was a matter for judicial settlement, and Marcel advised Julie to appeal to the courts, if for no other purpose than to delay the suits with which she was threatened. Julie would not consent. It was her idea that lawsuits were always lost by both parties, and Marcel agreed that she was not very far astray.

"I am well aware," she said, "that the marchioness does not love me, and it is very possible that she owes me nothing; but she is a very great lady, and it is not possible that, rich as she is, she will allow a person who bears her name to be entirely denuded. Let us wait a little longer. It would not be becoming to begin so soon to talk to her about money, and it would be most imprudent, as you yourself said, to appear to be in too much of a hurry. When the time has come, I will take that step, let it cost what it may; you must advise me of the fitting opportunity."

"Go there at once," said Marcel to her one day. "There is no time to lose, your creditors propose to take action to-morrow."

Julie, undeterred by the ill-success of her first visit, had called upon the dowager on the morning following the marquis's decease. On that occasion she was received very coldly, but courteously. Perhaps, the marquis's testamentary provisions having been put out of the way, her presence was no longer dreaded. There was a sort of bitter-sweet comment upon the worldly pleasures in which Madame d'Estrelle indulged at the close of her period of mourning, in allusion to her absence from home on the preceding evening. Julie had given the explanation agreed upon with Marcel. It was received with a decidedly incredulous air of curiosity, and then the marchioness observed:

"I am very sorry for you, countess, but you are obliged to wear mourning again!"

Julie had paid other visits to the dowager, without mentioning her pecuniary troubles. When the moment had come to do so, she summoned all her courage, began the interview with her usual gentleness of manner, and laid bare her position in a few words, which she could not succeed in making very humble.

"I beg your pardon, madame," the marchioness replied, "but I do not at all understand these matters of business, as I have not enjoyed the advantage of living on terms of intimacy with solicitors. If you will be good enough to send your solicitor to my notary, he will be informed of my rights as well as my duties, and will be convinced that you are not included among the burdens left for me to bear."

"That is not the reply which I expected from your sense of honor, madame la marquise. It may be that you owe me nothing; it must be so, since you so declare."

"I thought that for family reasons----"

"I have not the honor to be of your family," rejoined the marchioness dryly.

"You mean," replied Julie, excited by the sneer, "that Monsieur le Comte d'Estrelle made something of a misalliance when he married a young woman of a family whose nobility was partly of the sword and partly of the gown. That does not wound me, for I am not ashamed of those of my ancestors who were magistrates, and I do not consider myself inferior to anyone; but I did not come here to discuss my right to the honor of bearing the name which you also bear. It is a fact that I am the Comtesse d'Estrelle; am I to lose the status which was promised me, and which seemed to be secured to me? If monsieur le marquis forgot me when he was dying, does it not result from the intentions which he must have communicated to you, that you will pay his son's debts, in part, at least?"

"No, madame, that does not follow from any intention that he ever made known to me. I simply know his opinion, and it was this: that you must absolutely abandon your dower, since it is insufficient to pay the debts in question, and that he would then attend to the balance."

"That has often been proposed to me, madame, and I have asked whether, in exchange for that sacrifice, any allowance would be made me."

"Are you absolutely penniless? did your family leave you nothing?"

"Twelve hundred francs a year, madame, no more, as you know."

"Well, one can live with that, my dear; that is enough to enable one to ride in cabs, to see the play from a closed box, consort with solicitors' wives, and walk about the streets at midnight on a sign-painter's arm. Those are your tastes, I am told; gratify them, renounce your rights, or allow the property which you hold from the Estrelle family to be sold at any price; it makes little difference to me! All that I desire is that you should marry somebody or other, so that your name will be changed and I shall never be confounded with you by those who do not know us."

"You shall have that satisfaction, madame, for I am more anxious than you to avoid that unpleasant confusion."

She bowed and went out.

Marcel was waiting at her house. When she returned with pale cheeks and eyes blazing with indignation, he said:

"All is lost, I can see that! Speak quickly, madame, you frighten me."

"My dear Thierry, I am hopelessly ruined," she replied; "but that is not what is suffocating me with rage. She insults me, she tramples me under her feet; at the very outset, without any presumption or provocation on my part, she hurls insults in my face! I am surrounded by spies, who carry tales to her and poison the most innocent things. Thierry," she added, sinking into a chair, "you are an honest man; I swear to you that I am an honest woman."

"Only a miserable villain could deny that!" cried Marcel. "Come, have courage, tell me what you mean."

When Marcel knew everything, excepting only the understanding between Julien and the countess, for they had thought it best to keep their secret temporarily, even from Madame André Thierry, he was much cast down and considered the situation very desperate.

"Here you are," he said, "between sudden, absolute destitution, a terrible thing to a woman with your habits, and a lawsuit of which the result is very doubtful. I no longer know what to advise you. I see that my anticipations are being realized. She can strip you bare and obtain the approval of society, by trying to besmirch your reputation. She has weapons all sharpened for you, she laid in a store of them when she saw that the marquis was sinking, and, feeling sure that he was on his death-bed, she used them; she has manœuvred in cold blood to ruin you, she has set spies upon you and had you followed."

"One moment, Monsieur Thierry; hasn't Monsieur Antoine had a hand in all this?"

"Julien thinks so; I still doubt it; I will find out, and, if necessary, I will set up a counter-system of espionage; but the most urgent thing is not to find out who is betraying you, but to determine what you will do."

"No lawsuits, in any event!"

"No; but let us not make that announcement; we will threaten to make trouble; I will attend to that. They insist that you shall abandon your dower; I propose that they shall purchase that sacrifice, and I will make a stout fight over the conditions."

"Meanwhile," said Julie, "I am at odds with my husband's family, for you can imagine that I shall never set foot inside the marchioness's doors again."

"In view of her very evident determination to drive you to extremities, I do not pretend to advise you to be patient. War is declared, the hostilities are not of our making. Our proper course is to avoid retreating."

But Marcel had no time to fight. He had at his heels two or three solicitors of decidedly unsavory renown, who talked of selling at auction, and who would grant no further delay. He thought that they must submit to the marchioness's demands. He went to Julie and told her so.

"They are robbing you," he said; "indeed I fear that they may force you, in case you resist, to part with the slender capital you inherit from your own family. It is absolutely certain that the count's debts, with the accumulated interest, will absorb much more than what you still retain of his fortune. The Marquise d'Estrelle desires to occupy, or at all events to own, the hôtel D'Estrelle."

"And its appurtenances?" queried Julie; "the pavilion too?"

"The pavilion too. My aunt must have something to indemnify her for moving; another point to fight over, but one in which you are not interested."

Julie made no reply, but became profoundly sad. The idea of being ruined, of being reduced to twelve hundred francs a year, had not hitherto presented itself very clearly to her mind: but to leave forever that lovely house and that delightful garden, which had become so dear to her in the past few weeks; to lose that proximity to the pavilion, the fascination and the perfect security of those nocturnal interviews--that was a genuine catastrophe! A whole world of bliss crumbled to dust behind her. One phase of the purest happiness she had ever known was brutally closed, before she had any time to prepare for it.

Marcel returned at once to the marchioness's notary. He found him very domineering in face of the countess's concessions--not as a man, for he was a most gallant individual, but as the agent engaged to contest his client's cause foot by foot. Moreover he had been warned against Julie, and he saw in her only a foolish young woman, determined to sacrifice everything to illicit passions. Marcel could not contain himself; he lost his temper, swore on his honor that there were no secret relations between the countess and his cousin, that they hardly knew each other, and that Julie was the purest of women and the most worthy of respect and compassion. Marcel had the reputation of an exceedingly upright man: the warmth of his convictions shook the notary; but, recurring to the marchioness's rights, he showed that she was mistress of the situation, and that the countess would be very fortunate to extricate herself in any way that the other chose to allow.

However, he promised to do his utmost to bring her to a more generous frame of mind toward her stepson's widow. The next day he announced, in a letter to Marcel, that the marchioness desired to inspect the hôtel D'Estrelle, which she had not entered for a long time. She desired to see for herself the condition of the property and then to have an appraisal made and discussed in her presence by her advisers and the countess's. It was easy to see, from the tone of this letter, that the notary had displeased his client by pleading the moral side of Julie's cause, as he had promised to do, and that he himself was far from pleased with the dowager's suspicions and harsh dealing.

He appeared with her on the same day. Julie, preferring not to see her heartless enemy again, locked herself into her boudoir, leaving the doors of all the other rooms open.

The Marquise d'Estrelle was a shrewish Norman. In Madame d'Ancourt's circle she was called _Madame de Pimbeche, Orbeche_, etc. She was accused of borrowing money by the year to lend secretly at usurious rates. This may have been an exaggeration; but it is certain that, if she expended a considerable sum to set Julie free, she proposed to recoup herself on the details. The promptness with which she came to make this sort of expert inspection demonstrated that purpose.

She went through the house, examined everything with a keen, unerring eye, made her comments and her deductions on account of the slightest crumbling of the walls, cried down the furniture and the fixtures as much as she possibly could, and talked and acted with a cynicism born of avarice and aversion, which fairly sickened Marcel and made the notary blush more than once. When she came to the boudoir where Julie had taken refuge, she demanded that the door be opened. It was opened instantly. Julie had heard her approaching, and being unwilling to undergo the supreme affront of receiving a hateful visitor against her will, she had gone out through the garden, bidding Camille open the door as soon as the demand was made. Camille was proud, she could point to sheriffs among her ancestors! She could not resist the temptation to give the dowager a lesson: she walked to a chest of drawers in which she had hastily and designedly placed a few trifles, and said in a tone of sarcastic resignation:

"Perhaps madame desires to count the linen? There are some of my mistress's ribbons and neckerchiefs here."

The dowager cared little for the chatter of a lady's maid; but her hatred of Julie was lashed into fury. She cast a rapid glance through the window and saw Madame d'Estrelle crossing the garden toward the pavilion.

Doubtless that was a great mistake on Julie's part; but she too was exasperated. She felt as if she were driven from her house, from her bedroom, from her most sacred retreat, by the shamelessness of persecution. She longed for a refuge, her brain was in a whirl, and she bent her steps, without reflection, as if by instinct, toward Madame Thierry and Julien.

"She will not come to their house to rout me out," she thought; "she will not dare. I am still the owner of the place, and I alone have the right to enter the premises of my lessees. Moreover, it is time for me to acknowledge my friendly relations with Madame Thierry, and after to-day I propose to go to her house as I go to the houses of other women who have sons or brothers."

As she resolutely entered the pavilion, the marchioness, impelled by a no less sudden resolution, rushed from the boudoir into the garden.

"Where are you going, madame?" asked Marcel, who had not seen Julie fleeing, but who distrusted the gleaming eyes and the jerky gait of the vigorous and active old woman.

The marchioness did not deign to answer, but hopped on like a plucked magpie. Marcel and the notary followed her, being unable to stop her.

She knew the place very well, although she had not shown herself there for a long while, having had a falling-out with her step-son the count at the time of her second marriage. She arrived at the pavilion a few minutes after Julie, and entered the studio like a bombshell.

Julien was alone; he was not even aware that Madame d'Estrelle had come in and gone up to his mother's room. Since he had been seeing Julie in secret, he had ceased to be on the lookout for her. They were so entirely agreed that they would not meet by chance! He was working and singing over his work. Julie, as she passed through the little porch, had had an indefinable sudden presentiment of the danger of being followed; so she had gone upstairs, convinced that the widow's bedroom was an inviolable refuge.

Surprised by the sudden appearance of the old dowager, Julien, who had never seen her, rose from his chair, thinking that she had come from the street and that she wished to give him an order. That red-faced, panting apparition, angular and repellent, caused him more displeasure than hope.

"Here is a person who will haggle like a pawnbroker," he thought rapidly, "unless indeed she is a female pawnbroker herself."

The lady's shabby costume in nowise indicated her rank and her wealth.

"Are you alone here?" she asked, without any sort of salutation.

Marcel and the notary appeared, and Julien's wondering eyes questioned the former, who made haste to reply:

"Madame desires to purchase this pavilion, and----"

"I don't need to be introduced to this gentleman," retorted the marchioness, sharply, "and I am quite able to explain myself."

"In that case, madame," laughed Julien, "this _gentleman_ awaits your orders."

"I asked you a question," continued the marchioness in nowise disconcerted; "I will make it more distinct. Where did the Comtesse d'Estrelle go?"

Julien started back; Marcel, seeking to avoid an absurd scene, hastily motioned to him and touched his forehead with his finger, to indicate that the woman's mind was deranged.

"Ah! very good," said Julien, speaking in the tone which one adopts with children and madmen. "Madame la Comtesse d'Estrelle? I don't know her."

"A silly answer, master painter, and altogether useless. I desire to speak to that lady, and I know that she lives here--from time to time!"

"Marcel," said Julien, turning to his cousin, "was it you who brought _this lady_ to me?"

Marcel, in dire distress, shook his head.

"Then it was you, monsieur?" Julien asked the notary.

"No, monsieur," the notary replied with decision; "I followed madame, and I have absolutely no idea why she came here."

"Then you would have done better not to have followed me," replied the marchioness with calm asperity; "I had a reason for coming to this picture-shop, you have none. Do me the favor to allow me to conduct myself here as I please."

"I wash my hands of the affair," replied the notary, saluting Julien with much courtesy; and he took his leave, cursing the shrewish and capricious humor of his client.

"As for you, monsieur le procureur,--" said the marchioness to Marcel.

"As for me, madame," retorted Marcel, "this house is occupied by members of my own family, and I receive orders from no one except the mistress of the house, who is my aunt."

"I know all that. I know your relationship and the understanding between you as between good friends, and your neighborly relations with the Comte d'Estrelle's widow. Remain if you choose, or turn me out if you dare."

"Let us have done with this, madame," said Julien, losing patience. "I am not in the habit of failing in respect to a woman, however _extraordinary_ her conduct may appear to me; but I am an artist, a mechanic if you choose; I am on my own premises, in my picture-shop, as you well describe it; I am working, I have no time to waste. You talk to me of subjects which I do not understand and of a person whom I have not the honor to receive; if you have no other motive for interrupting me, permit me to leave you."

With that he picked up his palette and his sketch and left the studio, with an expressive glance at Marcel, which seemed to say: "Get me out of this as best you can."

"Very good!" said the marchioness, not at all crushed by this dismissal in due form. "I will remember the shepherd's ballad. Let us look about this hovel a bit. I will spare you nothing; I want to see the whole pavilion, inside, upstairs and down, as I saw the hôtel."

"Come, madame," said Marcel, "since you insist upon it. Simply allow me to warn my aunt, who lives upstairs!"

"No, not at all," replied the dowager, walking toward the door, "I will warn her myself, and if she turns me out--why, I shall be very well pleased, monsieur le procureur!"

"Ah! this is enough to drive one mad!" cried Marcel involuntarily; "is it possible that you really believe that Madame d'Estrelle is in hiding here? In that case, come, madame; I will show you the way. When your mind is at rest--"

Marcel was a hundred leagues from imagining that Julie was in his aunt's room. Suddenly, as he hastily opened the studio door, he saw Madame d'Estrelle and Madame Thierry before him, and stood still, in the most painful attitude one can attribute to disappointment.

Julie had heard the marchioness's noisy arrival in the studio. Julien had gone up to tell his mother that a madwoman was below talking nonsense. He had been first of all amazed to see Julie, then sorely distressed by her presence, on learning from her that the madwoman was the dowager in person. Julie recognized her at last, and knew that she would ferret her out if she had to go to the garret. She at once made up her mind what to do, and, taking Madame Thierry's arm, said to her:

"Come! it is not becoming for me to be surprised in your room, like a guilty person in hiding; I prefer to brave the storm, and I feel that I can do it because it is my duty."

Julien, bewildered and ready to explode, remained at the top of the stairs, listening and wondering if Marcel single-handed could save the two women whom he loved and respected above all the world from being insulted by a fury.

But, strangely enough, as soon as the dowager saw those two women before her, her countenance brightened and her anger seemed to vanish. What was her real purpose? To ascertain with her own eyes that she had not been deceived by those who told her that Julie had formed a friendship with the widow Thierry, and consequently that she was her son's mistress. The consequence was slightly forced; but, as Julien had told the marchioness that he did not know Julie, the marchioness had some excuse for believing what she wished to believe. This satisfaction appeased her, as the possession of a victim appeases the excitement of the vulture. She laughed a wicked laugh, glancing at Marcel triumphantly; and said to him, without bowing to anyone, without waiting to be spoken to:

"Come, monsieur le procureur, I am satisfied; I have seen all I want to see here; let us go about our business."

Julie felt the sarcasm and was about to reply to it. She was desperate--so desperate that she desired to tell her secret in presence of everybody. In her view that was the opportunity, or it would never come. Since the tongue of calumny chose to call her a degraded sinner, she proposed to reassert her dignity by avowing a serious passion soon to be consummated by marriage. It was a most courageous act on the part of a woman who had never known how to be brave; so that she was not perfectly cool when she formed that extreme resolution, hastily and without Julien's knowledge.

But she was not allowed to carry it out in that way. Marcel and Madame Thierry each grasped one of her hands, saying almost in unison:

"Don't answer; let the insult fall at your feet!"

And, while they detained her thus, the dowager passed on without deigning to look at her, and took the path leading to the hôtel, while the honest notary, who was awaiting her outside, and accompanied her, saluted Julie with most significant deference.

"You see," said Marcel, "her own adviser protests against the unworthiness of such conduct; and now that woman has taken off her mask, no one will be on her side against you; but, in God's name, madame, how did you allow yourself to be caught here, where you never come? You are most imprudent I am bound to tell you!"

"My dear Thierry, I have something to say to you," replied Julie. "Go and arrange matters with the marchioness; yield everything in the matter of money, but save my own tiny fortune. I will wait for you here."

"Why here?" said Marcel.

"I will tell you that when you return," Julie replied.

"Really, madame," said Julien, as soon as Marcel had gone, "by what unlucky chance do you honor my mother with a visit on the very day when your deadly enemy is watching you? And why do you remain here now, as if to confirm her in her extraordinary suspicions?"

Despite Julien's affectionate and respectful tone, his words contained a sort of rebuke which surprised Madame Thierry.

"Julien," said Madame d'Estrelle earnestly, "the moment to be sincere has arrived. It has arrived sooner than I expected, but it cannot be avoided, and I do not propose to retreat before my destiny. My excellent friend," she cried, throwing her arms about Madame Thierry's neck, "listen to the whole truth. I love Julien. I am bound to him by the most sacred pledges. Embrace and bless your daughter."

"O _mon Dieu!_" cried Madame Thierry in utter bewilderment, pressing Julie to her heart, "are you married?"

"Surely not, never without your consent," said Julien, embracing his mother in his turn; "but we solemnly promised each other to ask your consent when the time came that there would be nothing in this disclosure likely to alarm your affection. Julie has spoken sooner than I could have wished, but she has spoken, and what can I add? I deceived you, dear mother, I love her madly, and I am the happiest of men because she loves me too!"

Madame Thierry was so profoundly moved by these revelations that it was a long time before she was able to speak. She overwhelmed Julie and Julien with the most loving caresses, and, trembling from head to foot, with cold hands and streaming eyes, she felt a curious mixture of terror and joy. The first feeling was the more powerful, perhaps, for her first words were to ask Julien why, amid his happiness, he seemed to reproach Julie for acting a little too quickly.

"Ah! there you are!" said Julie. "Last evening--for we talk together every evening, dear mother--we agreed to await the final decision as to my fate before revealing our secret to our friends and to you. I saw that I was marching to my destruction. Julien was content. But he would have liked, for my sake, that all the wrong should be on the marchioness's side; and it is quite certain that my resolution, when known and published, will give her numerous partisans in her circle of pious hypocrites and evil-tongued prudes; but for my part I cannot endure the thought of being represented to be a lewd woman, and that would happen if I were afraid to tell the whole truth."

"Yes, of course," replied Julien; "now, we must tell it; but you put forward the hour, my dear Julie! For that rash act I adore you more than ever; but it was my duty not to assent to it. Love and destiny carried the day over my prudence; they made my devotion entirely useless. A truce to reflections! Bless your children, dear mother; Julie has said it, Julie wishes it, and I know that you wish it as much as she does."

While the occupants of the pavilion were thus pouring out their hearts, the marchioness, installed in the salon of the hôtel, proceeded to make a rigidly exact appraisal of both properties. Marcel fought, the notary made sincere but vain efforts to adjust the respective claims. At last they reached a conclusion intensely disappointing to Marcel--that Julie could not hope to save her furniture from the enemy's clutches. It was a great concession to allow her to retain her diamonds and her laces. She had no choice but to submit to those harsh terms, because otherwise she might get nothing; nobody had appeared to outbid the marchioness. Marcel had written to Uncle Antoine, hoping that he would feel a longing for the garden and would not haggle overmuch, for all his wrath; but Uncle Antoine had held aloof.

After a final half hour of discussion concerning the articles, which were already drawn up, divers erasures were made and divers blank spaces filled up. The dowager signed, and as Marcel, still complaining and protesting, started to take the document and submit it to Julie for her ratification, the dowager demanded roughly:

"Why isn't she here? The matter is of sufficient importance for her to leave her dear pavilion for a few moments!"

"You will admit, madame," rejoined Marcel, "that you are not treating the Comtesse d'Estrelle so generously as to make her feel inclined to come into your presence."

"Bah! she is very susceptible! Go to fetch her, Master Thierry! I am in haste to be off, and if, on reading the document, she makes any fuss over it, I am not one of the sort to wait for her. Let her come and state her views here, that will be the shortest way. What is she afraid of? I have nothing more to say to her about her conduct, which I care very little about now, and which I didn't reprove her for after all. Did I say a single word to her just now? If I did touch her a little the other day, it was because she undertook to appeal to feelings which I do not owe her; but let her abstain from recriminations, and I will agree not to humiliate her."

"If you authorize me to go to her with words of peace, and to repeat them in mild and becoming sentences," said Marcel, "I will try to bring her here."

"Moreover," observed the notary, "madame la marquise doubtless has something to say to her outside of the terms of the contract. Madame certainly intends to give her time to find somewhere to go on leaving the hôtel?"

"Yes, yes, to be sure," said the marchioness; "that is my intention. Go, Master Thierry!"

Marcel ran to the pavilion and persuaded Julie to return with him. It had seemed to him that the marchioness, satisfied with her bargain, proposed to try to make some slight amends for her harshness; and it would be more generous of Julie, and perhaps more prudent as well, not to reject that sort of patching up process with which society is accustomed to be content.

Time was pressing, and Marcel was not admitted to the secret at the pavilion; but Julie whispered to Madame Thierry:

"You know now what my marriage portion is; I bring a very small income; but by selling my jewels, we may be able to buy the house at Sèvres. So I am a suitable match for Julien, and everything can be arranged in that direction as nicely as possible."

The marchioness concealed the impatience caused by having to wait a few moments. She was almost polite as she requested Julie to read and sign. Julie took the pen; but as she found that the conciliatory words which Marcel had led her to expect were not forthcoming, she hesitated an instant and glanced at the notary, as if to ask his opinion. Her deferential air did not escape the keen eye of the lawyer, who had a decidedly sympathetic feeling for her.

"This would be the fitting moment," he said to his pitiless client, "to inform madame of your generous intentions with regard to the question still left open."

"Oh! yes, of course," replied the marchioness, "I wish to enter into possession of the hôtel at once, to-morrow at the latest; but I will allow madame to retain the pavilion for two or three months."

"The pavilion?" said Marcel in amazement. "Why, the pavilion is let! Surely madame la marquise knows that it is let for nine years?"

"But the lease is void, Master Thierry, for I did not sign it, and by the provisions of our matrimonial agreements, Monsieur le Marquis d'Estrelle was not empowered to do any act without my express assent."

"So that Madame Thierry will be compelled to give up her lease without indemnity?"

"I am very sorry for her; but you know my contract by heart; look at the lease and you will be satisfied that it is of no validity."

She produced the lease, which was in her pocket, and showed it. There was nothing to be said.

"What difference does this make to you?" said the marchioness, laughing at Marcel's consternation. "Madame la comtesse is still in a position to compensate Madame Thierry for this annoyance. We don't count the expense with our friends!"

"You are right, madame," replied Julie with dignity, "and I thank you for the opportunity you give me of showing my devotion to Madame Thierry. But I decline your gracious offer. Madame Thierry and I will go from your house together in an hour."

"Together?" said the marchioness. "So much frankness was not necessary, madame!"

Julie was about to reply when a loud ring in the antechamber made the marchioness start.

"Come, no useless quarrels!" she said, suddenly changing her tone; "here are visitors. Sign, my dear; let us have done!"

And, as the footman was about to announce someone, she called to him:

"Say that we are not receiving yet; let the person wait!"

"Excuse me, madame," said Julie, offended by this authoritative tone in her presence, "I am still still in my own house."

Marcel, who had noticed the marchioness's sudden impatience, was conscious of an ill-defined but imperative impulse. He took the pen from Julie's hand. The marchioness turned pale, Marcel kept his eyes upon her.

"Shall I announce the visitor?" the footman asked Julie.

"Yes," replied Marcel, hastily, for he had seen the visitor's face through the open door.

"Yes," echoed Julie, impelled by Marcel's excitement.

"Monsieur Antoine Thierry!" said the servant in a loud voice.

Julie rose with a gesture of surprise. The marchioness, who was standing, sat down again with an angry exclamation. The horticulturist entered, embarrassed, awkward as usual, but none the less holding his head erect, with the irascible countenance which always presented such a curious contrast to his timid manners. Without a direct salutation to anyone, he walked forward in a zigzag line, but very quickly, to the table, to the document, to the inkstand, and, looking at Julie, said in a sullen tone, in which an indefinable trace of anxiety could be detected:

"Have you concluded anything?"

"Nothing is concluded, since you are here," replied Marcel. "Do you happen to have come to make a bid, monsieur my uncle?"

"No one can bid," said the marchioness, in great excitement. "Everything is settled. I appeal to the good faith of----"

"Good faith is safe enough," retorted Marcel. "We were subjected to harsh conditions. No one ever blamed a man condemned to death, however resigned he might be, for accepting a pardon when it came to him as a surprise. Come, monsieur my uncle, speak! You want the hôtel D'Estrelle. I say more, you need it; you can pull down the wall and make a fine addition to your garden. The hôtel De Melcy is old and dismal and depressing and badly located. This one is cheerful, cool in summer, warm in winter. You want it, you claim it, do you not?"

"This is an outrageous proceeding!" cried the marchioness. "Madame's consent is equivalent to a signature, and an agreement is never retracted at the last moment."

"I beg your pardon, madame," rejoined Marcel, "you were warned. I resisted to the very last minute, and I said to you three times during the discussion: if the door should open at this moment, and a new bidder appear, I don't care who he might be, I would tear up this draft of an agreement which I consider most lamentable for my client. I submitted, I did not consent; I invoke the testimony of my colleague here present. Uncle, everyone knows that you are infallible on questions of honor; tell me, have I the right to object to my client's signing before you have spoken?"

"To be sure," replied Monsieur Antoine, "especially as my rights antedate madame la marquise's. Let us look over this paper!"

He ran his eye over it and said:

"That is not my appraisal, madame la marquise; you pluck your victim too close, and you compel me to remind you of our little agreements."

"Go on, monsieur, overbid me!" replied the dowager. "I am unable to contend against you who have millions. I throw the whole thing over and give up my place to you."

"Wait, wait!" replied Antoine, "we can still agree with a word, madame! I can act here in a way to satisfy everybody. It depends on you!"

"Never!" cried the marchioness indignantly; "you are a lunatic and I am ashamed to have accepted your services!"

She went out, forgetting her notary, and Antoine stood abashed, with contracted brows, buried in mysterious meditation, and with eyes fixed on the door.

"They had agreed to act against me," Julie whispered to Marcel; "now what are they going to do?"

"Be patient," Marcel replied; "I think that I can guess."

He had no time to explain himself. Monsieur Antoine emerged from his reverie and said, addressing the notary:

"Well, how far have we gone, and what is our decision?"

"For my own part, monsieur," replied the notary, putting his papers together and looking for his spectacles, "what took place between the marchioness and yourself is a mystery. My client apparently abandoned the object she was pursuing, and I shall await further orders from her before taking part in this affair."

"It is between us two then?" said Monsieur Antoine to Julie, while the notary made his exit.

"No, monsieur," she replied, pointing to Marcel; "I ask your permission to leave you together."

"Why so," said Antoine, with a peculiarly distressed air, putting out his hand to detain her, but not daring to touch her sleeve. "You bear me a grudge, Madame d'Estrelle! You are wrong; everything that I have done is in your interest. Why don't you want me to tell you?"

"Yes, indeed," said Marcel, "why should she refuse to find out what you have on your stomach? Pardon the expression, madame la comtesse, for I am a little irritated; but, pray set me the example of patience. Let us listen, since this is the day to defy the enemy all along the line."

Julie resumed her seat, with a cold and severe glance at Monsieur Antoine, which put the finishing touch to his confusion. He stuttered and stammered, and was incomprehensible.

"Come, come," interposed Marcel, "you don't succeed in making your confession, my poor uncle! It becomes my duty to question you. Let us proceed in order. Why did you leave Paris mysteriously on the day following a certain tragic adventure which happened to one of your plants?"

"Ah! you propose to talk about that, do you?" cried the horticulturist, his little eyes glaring wrathfully.

"Yes, I propose to talk about everything! Answer, or I take the judge away, and your condemnation stands."

"Condemnation to what?" said Antoine, glancing at Julie; "to her hatred?"

"No, monsieur, to my reprobation and my pity," replied Madame d'Estrelle, despite the mute remonstrances of Marcel, who wished to induce his uncle to mend his ways.

"Your pity, pity for me!" he retorted in high dudgeon. "No one ever used that word to me before, and if you were not a woman!"--Then he turned to Marcel. "Pity! why that is contempt! If it was you who advised her to talk like that, you shall pay me for it!"

"Justify yourself if you can," retorted Marcel, boldly; "for if you have behaved as you seem to have done, you are a detestable fellow, and every honorable woman insulted by you has the right to tell you so."

"In what have I insulted her? I have insulted nobody. I saw that she was ruining herself; I tried to prevent her from----"

"From ruining herself! You are talking nonsense, my dear uncle. There are some dangers which a woman like her in whose presence we are does not know and never will know."

"Ah, yes! that is all talk! I am not to be put off with phrases learned in books, I tell you! When a woman makes appointments with a young man----"

"Appointments? Where did you pick up such foolish stuff? The man who told you that lied in his throat!"

"You are the one who lies! you are the confederate--the obliging friend!"

"Be careful, uncle! Death of my life, you'll make me lose my temper!"

"Lose your temper, if you choose. I saw you myself coming out of the theatre."

"Well, what then? My wife----"

"Oh! your wife--your wife's a fool! I saw Julien come out too."

"Julien was not with us; he had no more idea that we were downstairs than we had that he was in the gallery. Besides, even if he had been with us, what is this mania of yours for incriminating----"

"_Encriminating!_" interposed Monsieur Antoine, all whose errors in language we do not attempt to reproduce; "I _encriminate_ what is _encriminatable!_ And what about the long walk at night, arm-in-arm, from the hôtel d'Ormonde to the pavilion, where madame remained, by the way, till three o'clock in the morning? Madame André may have been present at the conversation. I don't deny that; but that's another reason for _encriminating,_ as you call it, you ass of an attorney! And all the meetings in the garden in the evening, when madame never goes in till two o'clock--often later?"

"Where do you pick up this servants' gossip?" cried Marcel, indignantly--"these antechamber slanders?"

"I don't go into antechambers, and I don't get my information from servants; I have my own little police. I am rich enough to pay shrewd ones who watch and tell me the truth. As to that, I don't make any secret of it. I wanted to find out madame's sentiments, the reasons for the affront she put upon me by employing Master Julien to show me the door; that was my right; and, if I revenged myself as I could, that, too, was my right."

Madame d'Estrelle, being determined to tell everything and to take all the consequences, listened to Uncle Antoine with proud impassibility. The brutality of his language, which she attributed to chronic madness, and excused because of his lack of education, did not wound her like the premeditated, deliberate impertinence of the marchioness. Marcel, who watched her during his uncle's fine discourse, mistook the disdainful serenity of her smile for a denial more eloquent than any words could be.

"Why, look at her," he cried, shaking the rich man to make him hold his peace; "observe the paltry effect of the fables and lies you have been made to swallow! You cannot bring the faintest flush to her brow, and her silence confounds your brutal eloquence!"

"I will speak in a moment," said Julie; "let Monsieur Thierry go on. As you see, he does not anger me, and I am waiting until he has finished his account of my conduct and has given me an account of his. You are under the ban of my indignation, Monsieur Antoine Thierry, do not forget it. You claim that you do not deserve it; it remains for you to prove that to my satisfaction."

The old man was confounded for a moment; then, having determined upon his course, he replied:

"Very well, despise me if you choose; I don't care much about that. I have my own esteem and that's enough for me! I was angry, true! I talked about you angrily, vindictively, I don't deny it--and yet I don't hate you, and it rests with you whether you will have me for a friend."

"Confess before imploring absolution," said Marcel; "what has happened? what have you done? Tell us!"

"What has happened? this is what has happened, _Mordi!_ chance helped me to vent my bile. The dowager Madame d'Estrelle sent to beg a favor of me. Two or three days before her husband's death, they sent to ask me to come to her house. I had known her a long while, because she once sold me some land, none too dear. She wasn't so shrewd in business then as she is to-day. She said to me: 'My husband won't last long; I inherit his property; but I don't pay his son's debts unless the countess turns over her dower to me; and to force her to do it I propose to buy up the claims. Lend me the money and you shall have part of the plunder. I will pay you well for obliging me.'--'Excuse me, madame,' I said, 'I want to make that lady feel that I have her in my power; but I want to be able to forgive her if it suits me.'--At that it was: 'Aha! what have you got against her?'--And to that I answered; 'I have what I have!'--'Indeed!'--'No.'--'Tell us,' etc., etc. In short from one thing to another, from one word to another, I unbosomed myself, I told her that I tried to be your friend and that you treated me like a pirate, and all because you had let yourself be drawn into the intrigues of Madame André Thierry, who wanted to marry her son to a great lady from vanity, and to have somebody else do as she did, like the _wolf_ in the fable who had his tail cut off, so they say. And the marchioness was very glad to learn of the adventure, and made me say more than I meant to perhaps, although I took pleasure in telling it to her. At last, to wind up, she said: 'Monsieur Thierry, you must let this fine marriage go on, it suits me!'--'But it don't suit me!' said I.--'Bah! you are in love with her at your age!--Spite, jealousy, can you think of such things?'--'No, madame, I am not in love at my age; but at any age it makes a man angry to be fooled, and I have been fooled. I am not a bad man, but I am powerful, and I propose that they shall find it out. It isn't proper for me to persecute her myself, but when you have worried her well, since it amuses you, I propose to pardon her, if she asks me to.'--'Very well! very well!' said the marchioness. 'I swear to deal fairly with you as a good friend. Lend me the money. Here's my note, and you have my word.'--The lady sent for me again after the marquis was buried. I knew some fine stories about the goings-on here, and I told her everything, and it relieved us both to _slaughter_ the countess. Then the dowager said to me: 'Revenge yourself. I am going to hunt her down to the last ditch.'--And I still said: 'All right, but let me know. I intend to redeem, if she mends her ways.'--Now, the excellent dowager deceived me; but I arrived in time. Everything's at an end between us; she's a crafty woman, she shall pay me for it; that's all I say!"

"You don't tell us everything, uncle. There was something else between you. You said to her just now: 'It depends on you whether everything is settled!'"

"That's my affair, it doesn't concern you."

"Pardon me; she answered _never_ with such evident temper----"

"She's an old fool!"

"But what question did that answer?"

"Oh! go to the devil! why do you put your nose in?"

"Come, admit that the affair is complicated by another scheme----"

"No, I tell you!"

Marcel persisted.

"Uncle," said he, "the thing is clear enough to me; as you were unable to marry a countess, you concluded to marry a marchioness. Well, that scheme was more sensible than the other; your ages and your fortunes are more in harmony; but I see that you failed there also. She led you on by some sort of hope in order to get a little of your money, but she went on working on her own account, underhandedly and without your knowledge, to obtain possession of the countess's property, and if you had arrived a minute later, the thing would have been done and you would be neither married nor revenged."

Antoine listened to this homily with his head dropped on his breast, in the attitude of meditation, but furtively watching the smile of surprise and irony which Madame d'Estrelle could not hide.

"As far as not being married to that old shark goes," he said, rising, "I thank the good Lord with all my heart; but, as to the revenge I propose to have here, why, I'll have it, and the devil himself should not deprive me of it."

"Tell us about your revenge," said Julie with the utmost tranquillity.

"Who told you that it concerned you?" cried Uncle Antoine, whose tongue always became loosened sooner or later. "Look you, there are three of you women who have gulled me as if I was a little boy. Women can't do anything else! The first was Madame André long ago, who called me her brother and her friend, and that gave me confidence; the second was you, who called me your good friend and excellent neighbor, so as to coax me to give your lover something to marry on; the third--oh! she called me her dear monsieur and her generous creditor, but she's the worst of the three, because she only wanted to pluck me, like the avaricious vixen she is: so she will have to pay for the other two. As for you, Madame d'Estrelle, I excuse you and forgive you. Love makes people do idiotic things, but at all events it's love, a thing which, so far as I can see, muddles the brain and makes the reason limp. Well, let it go; give me back your friendship, and let us hear no more of marriage, with me or with the _other_. I still wish you well, and I will prevent you from taking my nephew the painter, because my nephew the painter betrayed me, and because it isn't suitable for you to marry a painter."

"Come, come!" said Marcel, interrupting him, "you were beginning to talk sense; but now your mania is taking hold of you again. That seems to be a fixed idea with you! Where the devil did you fish up that fancy?"