Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 20 (34 page)

 
          
“Inexplicable creature!
Pain can conquer her strength, but
her spirit defies me still.”

 
          
I
hardly heard him, for as he laid me on the couch in my own little Woe, I lost
consciousness, and when I recovered myself, I was alone with my maid.

 
          
“What
has happened?” I asked.

 
          
“Dear
mademoiselle, I know not; the bell rings, I fly, I find you fainting, and
1
restore
you. It is fatigue, alarm, illness, and you
ring before your senses leave you,” cried Jacobine, removing my cloak and furs.

 
          
A
sudden pang in my foot recalled me to myself at once, and bidding the girl
apply certain remedies, I was soon comfortable. Not a word was said of the
prince; he had evidently vanished before the maid came. I was glad of this, for
I had no desire to furnish food for gossip among the servants. Sending Jacobine
with a message to the princess, I lay recalling the scene and perplexing myself
over several trifles which suddenly assumed great importance in my eyes.

 
          
My
bonnet and gloves were off when the girl found me. Who had removed them? My
hair was damp with eau-de-cologne; who had bathed my head? My injured foot lay
on a cushion;
who
placed it there? Did I dream that a
tender voice exclaimed, “My little Sybil, my heart, speak to me”?
or
did the prince really utter such words?

 
          
With
burning cheeks, and a half-sweet, half-bitter trouble in my heart, I thought of
these things, and asked myself what all this was coming to. A woman often asks
herself such questions, but seldom answers them, nor did I, preferring to let
time drift me where it would.

 
          
The
amiable princess came herself to inquire for me. I said nothing of her brother,
as it was evident that he had said nothing even to her.

 
          
“Alexis
has returned,
ma chere;
he w’as with me when Jacobine told me of vour
accident; he sends his compliments and regrets. He is in charming spirits, and
looking finely.”

 
          
I
murmured my thanks, but felt a little guilty at my want of frankness. Whv not
tell her the prince met and helped me? While debating the point within myself,
the princess was rejoicing that my accident would perhaps still longer delay
the dreaded journey.

 
          
“Let
it be a serious injury, my friend; it will permit you to enjoy life here, but
not to travel; so suffer sweetly for my sake, and I will repay you with a
thousand thanks,” she said, pleadingly.

           
Laughingly I promised, and having
ordered every luxury she eould imagine, the princess left me with a joyful
heart, while 1 vainly tried to forget the expression of the prince’s face as he
said low to himself:

 
          
“Her
spirit defies me still.”

 
          
For
a week I kept my room and left the princess to fabricate what tales she liked.
She came to me every day reporting the preparations for departure were begun,
but the day still remained unfixed, although April was half over.

 
          
“He
waits for you, I am sure; he inquires for you daily, and begins to frown at the
delay. To appease him, come down to-morrow, languid, lame, and in a charming
dishabille. Amuse him as you used to do, and if anything is said of
Russia
, express your willing- less to go, but
deplore your inability to bear the journey now.” Very glad to recover my
liberty, I obeyed the princess, and entered her room next day leaning on
Jacobine, pale, languid, and in my most becoming morning toilet. The princess
was reading novels on her sofa by the fire; the prince, in the brilliant
costume in which I first saw him, sat in my chair, busy at my embroidery frame.
The odd contrast between the man and his employment struck me so ludicrously
that
a half laugh
escaped me. Both looked up; the
prince sprang out of his chair as if about to rush forward, but checked
himself, and received me with a silent nod. The princess made a great stir over
me, and with some difficulty was persuaded to compose herself at last. Having
answered her eager and the prince’s polite inquiries, I took up my work,
saying, with an irresistible smile as I examined the gentleman’s progress:

 
          
“My
flowers have blossomed in my absence, I see. Does M. le Prince possess all
accomplishments?”

 
          
“Ah,
you smile, but I assure you embroidery is one of the amusements of Russian
gentlemen, and they often excel us in it. My brother scorned it till he was
disabled with a wound, and when all other devices failed, this became his
favorite emplovment.”

 
          
As
the princess spoke the prince stood in his usual attitude on the rug, eving me
with a suspicious look, which annoyed me intensely and destroyed my interesting
pallor
bv
an uncontrollable blush. I felt terriblv
guiltv with those piercing black eves fixed on me, and appeared to be absorbed
in a fresh bit of work. The princess chattered on till a salver full of notes
and cards was brought in, when she forgot evervthing else in reading and answering
these. The prince approached me then, and seating himself near my sofa, said,
with somewhat ironical emphasis on the last two words:

 
          
“I
congratulate mademoiselle on her recovery, and that her bloom is quite
untouched by her
severe-sufferings."

 
          
“The
princess in her amiable svmpathy doubtlessly exaggerated my pain, but I
certainly
have
suffered, though mv roses may belie me.”

 
          
Why
my eves should fill and my lips tremble was a mystery to me, but thev did, as I
looked up at him with a reproachful face. I spoke the truth. I
had
suffered, not bodily but mental pain, trying to put awav forever a tempting
hope which suddenly came to trouble me. Astonishment and concern replaced the
cold, suspicious expression of the prince’s countenance, and his voice was very
kind as he asked, with an evident desire to divert my thoughts from myself:

 
          
“For
what luxurious being do you embroider these splendid slippers of purple and
gold, mademoiselle? Or is that an indiscreet question?”

 
          
“For my friend Adolph Vernay.”

 
          
“They
are too large, he is but a bov,” began the prince, but stopped abruptly, and
bit his lip, with a quick glance at me.

 
          
Without
lifting my eyes I said, coolly:

 
          
“M.
le Prince appears to have observed this gentleman with much care, to discover
that he has a handsome foot and a youthful face.”

 
          
“Without
doubt I should scrutinize any man w ith whom I saw mademoiselle walking alone
in the twilight. As one of my household, I take the liberty of observing your
conduct, and for my sister’s sake ask of you to pardon this surveillance.”

 
          
He
spoke gravely, but looked unsatisfied, and feeling in a tormenting mood, I
mystified him still more by saying, with a bow of assent:

 
          
“If
M. le Prince knew all, he would see nothing strange in my promenade,
nor
in the earnestness of that interview. Believe me, I may
seem rash, but I shall never forget what is due to the princess while I remain
with her.”

 
          
He
pondered over my words a moment with his eyes on my face, and a frown bending
his black brows. Suddenly he spoke, hastily, almost roughly:

 
          
“I
comprehend what mademoiselle would convey. Monsieur Adolph is a lover, and the
princess is about to lose her friend.”

           
“Exactly.
M. le Prince has guessed the mystery,” and I smiled with downcast eyes.

           
A gilded ornament on the back of the
chair against which the prince leaned snapped under his hand as it closed with
a strong grip. He flung it away, and said, rapidly, with a jar in his usually
musical voice:

 
          
“This
gentleman will marry, it seems, and mademoiselle, with the charming freedom of
an English woman, arranges the affair herself.”

 
          
“Helps
to arrange; Adolph has sense and courage; I leave much to him.”

 
          
“And
when is this interesting event to take place, if one may ask?”

 
          
“Next
week, if all goes well.”

 
          
“I
infer the princess knows of this?”

 
          
“Oh,
yes. I told her at once.”

 
          
“And
she consents?”

 
          
“Without
doubt; what right would she have to object?”

 
          
“Ah,
I forgot; in truth, none, nor any other. It is incomprehensible! She is to lose
you and yet is not in despair.”

 
          
“It
is but for a time. I join her later if she desires it.”

 
          
“Never,
with that man!” and the prince rose with an impetuous gesture, which sent my
silks flying.

 
          
“What
man?” I asked, affecting bewilderment.

 
          
“This
Adolph, whom you are about to marry”

 
          
“M.
le Prince quite mistakes; I fancied he knew more of the affair. Permit me to
explain.”

 
          
“Quick,
then; what is the mystery?
who
marries?
who
goes?
who
stays?”

 
          
So
flushed, anxious and excited did he look, that I was satisfied w ith my test,
and set about enlightening him w ith alacrity. Having told why I met the young
man, I added:

 
          
“Adolph
will demand the hand of Adele from her parents, but if they refuse it, as I
fear they will, being prejudiced against him by Madame Bayard, he will
effect
his purpose in another manner. Though I do not
approve of elopements in general, this is a case where it is pardonable, and I
heartily wish him success.”

 
          
While
I spoke the princes brow had cleared, he drew a long breath, reseated himself
in the chair before me, and when I paused, said, with one of his sudden smiles
and an air of much interest:

 
          
“Then
you would have this lover boldly carry off his mistress in spite of all
obstacles?”

 
          
“Yes.
I like courage in love as in war, and respect a man who conquers all obstacles.”

 
          
“Good,
it is well said,” and with a low' laugh the prince sat regarding me in silence
for a moment. Then an expression of relief stole over his face as he said,
still smiling:

 
          
“And
it was of this you spoke so earnestly when you fancied
I
w'atched you in the gardens?”

 
          
“Fancied!
nay
, M. le Prince has
confessed that it was no fancy.”

 
          
“How if I had not confessed?”

 
          
“I
should have believed your word till you betrayed yourself, and then
— ”

 
          
I
paused there w ith an uncontrollable gesture of contempt. He eyed me keenly,
saying in that half-imperious, half-persuasive voice of his:

 
          
“It
is well then that I obeyed my first impulse. To speak truth is one of the
instincts which these polished Frenchmen have not yet conquered in the
‘barbarian,’ as they call me.”

           
“I respected you for that truthful
‘yes,’ more than for anything you ever said or did,” I cried, forgetting myself
entirely.

 
          
“Then,
mademoiselle has a little respect for me?”

 
          
He
leaned his chin upon the arm that lay along the back of his chair, and looked
at me with a sudden softening of voice, eye, and manner.

 
          
“Can
M. le Prince doubt it?” I said, demurely, little guessing what was to follow.

 
          
“Does
mademoiselle desire to be respected for the same virtue?” he asked.

 
          
“More than for any other.”

 
          
“Then
will she give me a truthful answer to the plain question I desire to ask?”

 
          
“I
will;” and my heart beat rebelliously as I glanced at the handsome face so near
me, and just then so dangerously gentle.

 
          
“Has
not mademoiselle feigned illness for the past week?”

 
          
The
question took me completely by surprise, but anxious to stand the test, I
glanced at the princess, still busy at her writing- table in the distant
alcove, and checking the answer which rose to my lips, I said, lowering my voice:

 
          
“On
one condition will I
reply.
”

 
          
“Name
it, mademoiselle?”

 
          
“That
nothing be said to Madame la Princesse of this.”

 
          
“I
give you my word.”

 
          
“Well,
then, I answer, yes;” and I fixed my eyes full on his as I spoke.

 
          
His
face darkened a shade, but his manner remained unchanged.

 
          
“Thanks;
now, for the reason of the ruse?”

 
          
“To delay a little the journey to
Russia
.”

 
          
“Ha,
I had not thought of that, imbecile that I am!” he exclaimed with a start.

 
          
“What
other reason did M. le Prince imagine
,
if I may
question in my turn?”

 
          
His
usually proud and steady eyes wavered and fell, and he made no answer, but
seemed to fall into a reverie, from which he woke presently to ask abruptly:

           
“What did you mean by saying you
were to leave mv sister for a time, and rejoin her later?”