The Young Lord and Other Tales Part 7

"Well, I am heartily glad of it," thought her uncle. "She has no pity for her sister's disappointment; she thinks of nothing but herself. What peace could I have hoped for in my family with an inmate so fearfully selfish?"

D'Elsac was thus, as it were, forced to think of Caliste; but it was with such repugnance that he could not make up his mind to offer to her the situation he had offered her sisters. He had never seen her brow unclouded; never seen that beautiful lip divested of its scorn never heard one expression from her that did not betray a mind full of vexation, jealousy, and pa.s.sion. To her, therefore, he would not address himself, though he watched her with great anxiety, allowing the days to pa.s.s till the 8th of June, the morning of the fete of St. Medard.

What a beautiful and lovely morning was that in Salency, and how eagerly did the eyes of all the family of Durocher regard the weather, though very different were their feelings on the subject! Lisette had been kept awake by the thought of her approaching triumph; Caliste, too, had not slept; but her pale countenance and hollow eye told a tale of sorrow and dejection.

Scarcely was a word spoken at the morning's meal, save by Valmont, his wife, and Lisette. Caliste refused to eat, but, urged by Victorine, she drank some coffee, though she would not, or could not, taste any food.

D'Elsac regarded her with grief, for he feared he knew not what by her manner.

The repast being over, and their parents gone, Lisette, annoyed at the silence on the affairs of the day, introduced it herself, by demanding of Victorine, "If she still refused to accompany her to the chapel."

"My parents, and Madame La Baronne, have accepted my apologies, Lisette,"

she said, "I wish that you too were content; I shall watch you to the chapel doors, and even hope to be present at your fete this evening."

"I wish you would dispense with my company also!" exclaimed Caliste with a bitter tone; "for, to confess the truth, my head throbs fearfully, so that I can scarce endure the pain it gives me."

"What!" exclaimed Lisette, "do you too refuse to accompany me, Caliste; alas! how unfortunate am I, possessing as I do three sisters, and yet there is not one amongst them who rejoices in my triumph."

"Because you are so often cross and ill-tempered," replied Mimi; "and if people will be cross, and will be ill-tempered, they cannot expect that others will love them."

Lisette deigned not to notice these words of her young sister; but, turning to Caliste, she inquired, "If she really was so very unamiable as to determine to stay from her fete."

"If you felt the intolerable anguish in your head that I do in mine,"

replied Caliste, "you would think _me_ very unamiable to press you to go."

"But I cannot, nor will not dispense with your company, Caliste," was her answer; "unless Victorine will go in your stead. You can wear the same dress; for how odd it would look if I had no sister with me!"

"Indeed," replied Caliste, with an air of nonchalance, "_I_ will not ask Victorine to go in my stead, neither will I promise to go myself. Cannot you take Mimi in my place?"

"Mimi," repeated Lisette; "why, she is at least a head shorter than Felicie Durand; for, if she goes instead of you, Caliste, she must walk with Felicie." "No," Caliste, "I will not have Mimi," she added, "and I will appeal to my father to command you to go."

"In your selfish triumph, Lisette," exclaimed Caliste, with bitterness, "you seem wholly to forget the feelings of your relatives! I tell you again that my head is in that state, it will half kill me to go to the fete."

She said no more, but walked out of the room, and up stairs, where Victorine found her some time afterwards, extended on a bed in a restless and feverish state, between sleeping and waking. But as Caliste left the room, Victorine with much gentleness proposed that they should seek some other young girl to fill the place of Caliste in the procession. "Indeed, indeed, Lisette," she said, "our sister is far from well, and I fear the excitement of the day will make her worse."

"It is only a jealous fit," replied the Rosiere; "only a jealous fit, sister Victorine, and nothing shall induce me to give up her attendance."

"But if it is what you say it is," exclaimed Victorine, "dearest Lisette, are you not irritating, instead of soothing your patient! My sister, vex her no more; you have obtained the crown from her; is not that sufficient? must you triumph over her also?"

"Pshaw," replied Lisette, sullenly, "I like to punish jealous people, it does them good."

"But can you be happy?" said Victorine; "can you be at peace, when another is suffering, I grieve to own, severely?"

"And why not?" she answered. "If Caliste could, she would have been Rosiere, and would not then have cared for my feelings. I have no necessity, then, to spare hers. You are sufficiently unkind, Victorine, to remain at home, pray content yourself with doing so, without keeping my other sister with you also."

Dorsain, who was present, ventured to put in a word in this place.

"Really Lisette," he said, "I would caution you not to urge Caliste too much, she looks exceedingly ill."

"Monsieur D'Elsac," replied the Rosiere, "allow us young people, I entreat, to settle this matter amongst ourselves. We shall fight it out very amicably together, but when others interfere with us it only makes matters worse."

The quiet man drew back, only venturing to say, "Well Mam'selle Lisette, do as you propose; settle the matter, amongst yourselves, but let it be quite among yourselves--let no fourth person be brought in."

"Well said, uncle Dorsain!" exclaimed Mimi; "well said, uncle Dorsain!

Mind, Lisette, you are not to ask our father to command Caliste to do as _you_ please; mind that, Lisette--mind that."

"You are all against me, I see," replied Lisette, shedding tears for very pa.s.sion--"you are all against me; but I might have expected it. I might have known others would be annoyed at any preference shown to me."

She left the room as she spoke, and in half an hour afterwards Caliste was sent for by her father, who commanded her to accompany her sister to the chapel.

"I will obey you, sir!" exclaimed Caliste, proudly, as she raised her throbbing head, and gazed fixedly on her father. "Yes, I will obey you, sir, whatever it may cost me!"

Dorsain was alarmed by the wild expression of her eye as she spoke, and he even ventured to hint his fears to Valmont on her departure, but the father laughed them to scorn, declaring it was, as Lisette said, mere jealousy; and if she stayed away from the ceremony it would injure her character fearfully in all Salency.

"She must learn to command herself," he added, "she is now nineteen; and if she cannot command herself now, what will become of her?"

Thus ill or well was poor Caliste to be dragged through the ceremony; and after an early dinner the family of Durocher retired to dress. Victorine, who was soon ready, went to a.s.sist Caliste, whom she found seated by the side of the bed, her head resting on the pillow. At sight of her sister she rose, a.s.sumed an air of astonishment at her own idleness, and hastened to arrange her hair. Victorine wished not to encourage this frame of mind, she therefore offered to dress her sister's hair, and to fasten her gown; and as she did so she could scarcely restrain her tears for Caliste's disappointment. She longed to speak some kind word to comfort or sooth her, but how could she do so, for pity suits not a proud heart, and Victorine felt it was not a moment to say anything that _might_ make her worse.

Victorine, however, making some excuse for leaving the room, urged Margoton to permit Caliste to remain at home; but the mother, not alarmed herself, saw nothing to fear, and, with her husband, agreed that she would lose her character as an amiable girl, if she stayed away from chapel. What, then, could Victorine do? she could but dress her sister in silence, though in her heart she grieved most bitterly for her.

Victorine, on looking at her sparkling eye and blooming countenance, was struck by an unnatural beauty that glowed there; and she made some remark which escaped from her lips ere she was aware that in beauty the Rosiere had forced upon herself a rival.

In reply, Caliste warmly embraced her sister, and, as if softened by the action, her natural feelings found vent; and whilst her head still rested on her sister's shoulder she exclaimed, "Dearest Victorine! what would I not give if I had never been a rival to Lisette; what on earth can ever repay me for my lost peace? Oh, you know not how I sigh for peace--peace not for my body only, but for my mind. Too late have I found out that you, indeed, my own Victorine, have learnt the secret of true happiness--for you have found out the path of peace; and if I am spared but another day, be you my instructor in that path, and then will you be my guide to heaven."

Victorine could no longer restrain her tears.

"Weep not for me," said Caliste, soothingly, "weep not for me, dear Victorine. Alas! if you but knew the feelings of my heart only a moment back, you would loath me, and cast me from you. Ah! shall I ever know peace again?"

The voice of Valmont was now heard calling for Caliste, and hastily did she embrace Victorine, and descend the stairs. She looked round her on entering the sitting room, but her eye rested not on any one object; but there were all the family a.s.sembled, dressed in their best, the Rosiere impatiently expecting her companions.

At sight of Caliste her brow clouded over; for she could not but be aware that for this day, when least she had desired it, her sister's beauty would outshine her own. Turning to Victorine, she pettishly asked her, "Wherefore she had not attended to _her_ dress as well as to Caliste's?

Is there any fault in it?" she said, "for I suppose I shall be most regarded; I pray you, Victorine, set it right, if any fault is visible."

In a short time the twelve young girls, the companions of the Rosiere, were a.s.sembled in the cottage. They were all drest in white, with blue ribbon scarfs tied under the left shoulder, the two ends floating at the pleasure of the wearer. They were some of the best-looking maidens in the village; but none could compete with the daughters of Durocher. An equal number of youths wearing the Rosiere's livery of the blue ribbon scarf now made their appearance, and with them came a band of music, and soon the village street was filled by the inhabitants. The Rosiere having spoken a few words to her own attendants, chose to retire till sent for to head the procession; but Victorine remained with Caliste, who, seating herself in a corner of the apartment, was watching all that pa.s.sed with a look of proud contempt.

Suddenly the band struck up in loud and joyous tones, the youths unfurled their banners, the maidens drew together, and Lisette appeared from the innermost apartment to receive the Seigneur de Salency. The next minute he had entered the cottage, and advancing towards her, addressed her as the Rosiere, and claimed his right of leading her to the church.

Lisette bowed as she listened to his compliments, then, ere she gave him her hand, she approached her parents, and on her knee asked their blessing, bending down her head to receive it.

"And now I claim the honour of leading off the fairest of Rosieres!"

exclaimed the Seigneur, raising her from her kneeling att.i.tude, and leading her by the hand to the cottage door.

Margoton shed tears of joy at the honour done her child, for the Seigneur seldom claimed his right of leading the Rosiere to church; indeed he spent most of his time in the capital, and seldom was present at the fete of the Rose. The neighbours crowded round to compliment the parents; and none thought of Caliste but Victorine and Dorsain.

As Lisette and the Seigneur reached the cottage door they paused for the maidens and youths, whose business it was to attend the Rosiere; and then, as Caliste rose from her seat to accompany her sister, her head became so confused, that had not Victorine been near at hand, she would have certainly fallen to the ground. Victorine would have pleaded her cause to their mother, but Margoton was too much occupied with their friends, and Caliste also, feeling that it was but a momentary affection, declared she would proceed.

"Lean upon me, dear niece," said the kind hearted Dorsain, "my arm will support you if you must make one in this procession."

This unexpected tenderness roused all that was amiable in the mind of Caliste, and with the impetuosity of her nature which made her too often show her contempt of her neighbours and acquaintances, she seized her uncle's hand and pressed it to her lips. "Our Lady bless you!" she murmured; "our Lady bless you for your kindness to me, but yet I must not accept of it, for you must not mingle among the Rosiere's attendants."