Mysteries of Paris Volume II Part 33

"Since your royal highness requires it," said the marquis, taking the letter from the salver.

"Certainly. I require you to treat me as a friend."

Then turning toward the marchioness, while M. d'Harville broke the seal of this fatal letter, the contents of which Rudolph could not have imagined, he added, smiling, "What a triumph for you, madame, to cause this will, so stern, always to yield!"

D'Harville drew near one of the candelabra on the chimney-piece, and opened the letter. Rudolph and Clemence conversed together, while D'Harville twice read the letter. His countenance remained composed; a nervous trembling, almost imperceptible, agitated his hands alone; after a moment's hesitation, he put the note into his waistcoat pocket.

"At the risk of pa.s.sing for a savage," said he to Rudolph, smiling, "I shall ask permission to go and answer this letter--more important than I thought at first."

"Shall I not see you again to-night?"

"I do not think that I can have that honor; I hope your royal highness will excuse me."

"What a man!" said Rudolph gayly. "Will you not try to retain him, madame!"

"I dare not attempt what your highness has attempted in vain."

"Seriously, my dear Albert, try to return to us as soon as your letter is written; if not, promise to grant me an interview some morning. I have a thousand things to say to you."

"Your royal highness overwhelms me," said the marquis, bowing profoundly as he retired.

"Your husband is preoccupied," said Rudolph to the marchioness, "his smile appeared constrained."

"When your royal highness arrived D'Harville was profoundly affected; he had great trouble to conceal it."

"I have arrived, perhaps, at an inopportune moment."

"No, you have even spared me the conclusion of a painful conversation."

"How is that?"

"I have told D'Harville the new line of conduct that I was resolved to follow, promising him support and consolation."

"How happy he should be!"

"At first he was as much so as myself; for his tears and joy produced an emotion to which I had, as yet, been a stranger. Formerly I thought I revenged myself by addressing him a reproach, a sarcasm. Sad revenge! My sorrow afterward has only been more bitter. While just now--what a difference! I asked my husband if he were going out: he answered me sadly, that he should pa.s.s the evening alone, as was usually the case. When I offered to remain with him--Oh! if you could have seen his astonishment! how his expression, always sad, became at once radiant. Ah! you were right--nothing is more pleasing than to contrive such surprises of happiness!"

"But how did these proofs of goodness on your part lead to this painful conversation of which you have spoken?"

"Alas!" said Clemence, blushing, "to these hopes succeeded hopes more tender, which I was very guarded not to excite, because it will always be impossible for me to realize them."

"I comprehend; he loves you tenderly."

"As much as I was at first touched with his grat.i.tude, so much was I alarmed at his protestations of love. I could not conceal my alarm. I caused him a sad blow in manifesting thus my invincible repugnance to his love, I regret it. But, at least, D'Harville is now forever convinced that he has only to expect from me the most devoted friendship."

"I pity him, without being able to blame you; there are susceptibilities, thus to speak, which are sacred. Poor Albert, so good, so kind! If you knew how much I have been afflicted, for a long time past, with his sadness and dejection, although ignorant of the cause. Let us leave all to time, to reason. By degrees he will recognize the value of the affection you offer him, and he will be resigned to it, as he was resigned before having the touching consolations which you offer him."

"And which shall never be wanting, I swear to your highness."

"Now let us think of the other unfortunates. I have promised you a good work, having all the charm of a romance in action. I come to fulfill my engagement."

"Already! what happiness!"

"Ah! it was a kind of happy inspiration that induced me to take that poor room in the house of the Rue du Temple, of which I have spoken to you. You cannot imagine all that I find curious and interesting! In the first place, your _proteges_ of the garret enjoy the comforts your presence had promised them; they have, however, yet to undergo some sad trials; but I do not wish to make you sad. Some day you shall know how many horrible calamities may overwhelm one single family."

"What must be their grat.i.tude toward you!" "It is your name they bless."

"Your highness has succored them in my name?"

"To render the charity sweeter to them. Besides, I have only realized your promises."

"Oh! I will go and undeceive them: tell them it is to you they owe--"

"Do not do that! you know I have a room in that house: be guarded against any new cowardly acts of your enemies, or of mine; and since the Morels are now out of the reach of want, think of others. Let us think of our intrigue. It concerns a poor mother and her daughter, who, formerly in affluence, are at this time, in consequence of an infamous spoliation, reduced to the most frightful misery."

"Unfortunate women! and where do they live, your highness?"

"I do not know."

"But how did you find out their situation?"

"Yesterday I went to the temple. Your ladyship does not know what the Temple is?"

"No, my lord."

"It is a bazaar very amusing to see. I went there to make some purchases with my neighbor of the fourth floor."

"Your neighbor?"

"Have I not my room in the Rue du Temple?"

"I forgot."

"This neighbor is a charming little grisette; she calls herself Rigolette; this Miss Dimpleton is always laughing, and never had a lover."

"What virtue for a grisette!"

"It is not exactly from virtue that she is virtuous, but because, she says, she has no time to be in love; for she must work from twelve to fifteen hours a-day to earn twenty-five sous, on which she lives."

"She can live on so small an amount?"

"Rather; and she has even articles of luxury; two birds who eat more than she does; her little room is as neat as possible, and her dress really quite coquettish."

"Live on twenty-five sous a-day! she is a prodigy."

"A real prodigy of order, labor, economy, and practical philosophy, I a.s.sure you; hence, I recommend her to you. She is, she says, a very skillful seamstress. At all events, you would not be ashamed to wear the clothes she may make."

"To-morrow I will send her some work. Poor girl! to live on so small a sum, and, so to speak, be unknown to us, who are rich, whose smallest caprices cost a hundred times that amount."