The Argonauts Part 27

Malvina rose from her chair; Darvid left his place, bowed to all with exquisite politeness, and, advancing some steps, gave his arm to his wife.

They pa.s.sed through a small, brightly lighted drawing-room and halted in the following chamber, where the walls were adorned with white garlands and the curtains and upholstering were of blue watered-silk. Beyond, in a small drawing-room. Miss Mary sat down to play chess with Maryan; Cara took her place near them in the character of observer, and Irene unrolled in the lamp-light a piece of church stuff, very old and time-worn, which the baron had brought her as a rarity, and which she intended to repair by embroidering it with silk and gold thread.

Darvid and Malvina stopped among the pieces of blue furniture in the tempered light of a shade-covered lamp. Malvina was very pale, and her heart must have beaten with violence, for her breath was hurried. At last that had come which she had waited for long and vainly: a positive and decisive conversation.

With all her strength she desired an explanation, a change of some kind, and in any shape, if it would only bring a change in her position. She was waiting, ready to yield to everything, to endure everything, if he would only speak. He spoke, and said:

"To-morrow I shall go to a hunt on the estate of Prince Zeno, and as I go from there to a place where I have business, I shall return in ten days, more or less. Immediately after my return, and during the last week of the Carnival, there will be in our house a reception, a ball simply, the most brilliant possible. My business requires it, and public opinion concerning this family requires it also. I wish, too, that Cara should make her first appearance in society at that ball. I have drawn up, and will send you a list of persons to whom it is necessary to send invitations, persons of whom you might not have thought; the rest of society you know better than I do. I know that you can arrange such matters excellently, and I trust that this time you will do all that is best. The check-book will be brought you by my secretary, whose abilities and time you may use without limit, as well as the check-book. There is no need to hesitate at outlay; everything should be in a style rarely seen in any house, or rather in a style never seen except in this house. This ball is needed for my business and for--public opinion concerning our family, which opinion is a little, even more than a little, lowered."

He spoke slowly and politely, with an accent of command at the basis of the politeness. At the last words he cast into her face a gleam of his eyes which was firm and penetrating, then he bowed, and made a move to go.

"Aloysius!" cried Malvina, with tightly clasped hands, and she began to tremble. How was this? A ball, and nothing more! The question with her was of things as important as human dignity, conscience, unendurable restraint, and fear in the presence of her children.

He stopped and inquired:

"What is your command?"

She bowed her head and began:

"I require; I wish to speak with you at length and positively."

He smiled.

"For what purpose? We have nothing pleasant to say to each other, and unpleasant conversation injures the nerves more than--black coffee."

She raised her head, and with an effort, to which she brought herself with difficulty, said:

"Things cannot remain as they are. My position--"

With an expression of profoundest astonishment on his face, he interrupted:

"Your position! But your position is brilliant!"

He made a gesture which seemed to indicate everything which was in that drawing-room, and in the whole house; but she blushed deeply, and like one in whom the sensitive place is touched, exclaimed:

"But this is just what--what I do not wish any longer. I have the right to desire to be free, to withdraw, to cast from myself this glitter, and go somewhere."

With all her strength she struggled against the tears which were overpowering her. He repeated with the profoundest astonishment:

"You do not wish? You have the right?"

Everything in him--cheeks, wrinkles on his forehead, pale lips--trembled with excitement now beyond restraint. But he was master of his voice yet. He spoke in low tones, but with a hiss:

"What right? You have no right! You have lost every right! You do not wish? You have no right to wish, or not to wish. You must live as it happens you, and as is needed. As to conversations and serious theatrical scenes, I want none of them--I, who have not lost the right to wish. I am silent, and I will enforce silence.

That is, and will always be, our modus vivendi, which, moreover, should be for you the easiest thing in the world to preserve. You have everything: a high position, luxury, brilliancy, even the love of your children as it seems. You have everything except--except--"

He hesitated. His habit of preserving in all cases correctness of form, struggled with the excitement which had overcome him, and these words hissed through his lips in a low though envenomed voice:

"Except--the lover whom you have dismissed, on which deed I congratulate you, and--my respect, which you have lost, but without which you must live on to the end. On this subject we are talking now for the first and last time. We are talking too long.

I am in a hurry to my work. I wish you good-night."

The bow which he made before his wife might seem from a distance full of friendly kindness; he withdrew with perfect calmness and freedom of manner, still Irene went to her mother with a firm though hurried step, and with the piece of ancient stuff in her hand, she said:

"I am sure that without your a.s.sistance I shall not be equal to my task. To restore this Middle Age wonder requires taste, an eye, shading of colors; all this is beyond my poor ability."

She stood before her mother, and among the large flowers on the cloth, which was changing from silver to sapphire, she indicated certain defects produced by time. Her eyelids blinked with marvellous quickness, and therefore, perhaps, she did not notice her mother's chalky pallor, trembling hands, and despairing expression of eyes. Apparently noticing nothing she spoke in a loud voice and joyously:

"You have an ocean of various silks left after so many things which we made in company. Let us search among them. Shall we go?

They are in your chamber. Come, mamma! I am so impatient to begin the restoration of this beautiful ruin! You will help me to match the silks, will you not? Oh, how many beautiful things you and I have made together with these four hands of ours, which were always in company."

And they were in company then. She thrust her hand under her mother's arm, and holding the strip of silver and azure stuff she escorted the very pale woman in black jets through the brilliantly lighted drawing-room, past the chess-table at which were sitting three persons, through the dining-hall, where servants were hurrying, through her mother's study, in which both had pa.s.sed most hours of their life, till she came to Malvina's bedroom, where, amid the yellow damask furniture a shaded lamp was burning. In the twinkle of an eye Irene drew the bra.s.s door-bolt, and with face turned toward her mother, with cheeks which flushed immediately, she took Malvina's two hands in her own.

"Enough of these secrets, of things partly said, and of barriers raised between our hearts and lips."

This hurried whisper burst from her like a current from a covered vessel filled with heat and opened suddenly.

"Let us tell each other everything--or no, say no word, I know everything and neither will I speak--but let us counsel--let us meditate together--Oh, mamma!"

Her form, usually erect and distinguished, bent, and trembled like a reed, and her lips, famous for irony and coldness, scattered a shower of kisses on the hands and face of her mother, whose chalky paleness was covered by a flame of blushes.

"Ira!" she exclaimed, "forgive. May G.o.d forgive me."

Unable to utter more than these words she dropped on her knees and touched the yellow cushion of the low sofa with her head. She seemed shattered, annihilated. Then Irene grew cold again. Sober thought and strong will shone in, her eyes. She bent over her mother, placed her delicate hand on her shoulder, and began almost with the movement of a guardian:

"Mamma, I beg you not to despair, and above all not to torture yourself with that which you consider a reproach and a sin. Never say to your children 'forgive,' for we cannot be your judges--I, least of all. You have ever been kind to us and as loving as an angel; we have lived with you; we love you--I most of all.

Remember at all times that a loyal heart is near you and--a kindred one--for it is the heart of a daughter. You must stand erect, have will, think out something, frame something, have decision, save yourself."

Looking into her mother's face with a strange smile, she added:

"And save me, perhaps, for I, too, am a poor, unwise creature; I know not myself what to do."

Malvina raised her head, straightened herself, and rose from her knees slowly.

"True," whispered she. "You--you, so long and so earnestly have I wished to speak--of you--and had not the courage."

"Well, let us speak now," said Irene.

And again putting her hand under her mother's arm, she led her to the ottoman, which stood in the tempered lamplight.

"The door is bolted, no one can disturb us; we will have a talk, a long one. Only we must be reasonable, calm. Look at things and ourselves clearly; know definitely what we want; try to bring our plans into action; know how to wish."

At these last words she imitated the nasal voice of Baron Emil, laughed at it, and dropped down on the carpet before Malvina had seated herself on the low ottoman. Irene, taking her mother's hands in her own, fixed her eyes on her eyes, and began:

"Mamma, if you wish I shall become very soon the wife of the famous Mediaevalist, Baron Emil, and we shall all three of us go to America--beyond the seas--"

"Oh, no! no! no!" exclaimed Malvina, who bent toward her daughter, and put her arms around the young woman with such terror as if she were shielding her from a falling house. "Not that! Not that! Something different--entirely different."

At that moment some impulsive, or impatient, hand shook the door-latch.