The Chevalier De Maison Rouge (15 page)

the better to watch his sentiments for GenevieVe) the

friendship of Morand, by whose genius, notwithstanding

his prejudice, he felt himself captivated, and whose pleas-

ing manners won him more and more every day, the

greater the inclination evinced by this whimsical man to

avoid him.

Of this he complained bitterly to Genevieve ; for he did

not doubt but that Morand had discerned in him a rival,

and therefore his conduct was actuated by jealousy.

" The Citizen Morand hates me," said he, one day, to Genevieve.

(t You ? " said Genevieve, with a look of astonishment.

" You Monsieur Morand hate you ? "

" Yes ; I am sure of it."

" And why should he hate you ? "

" Do you wish me to tell you ? " cried Maurice.

" Without doubt," replied Genevieve.

' Well, then, because I "

Maurice stopped ; he was going to say, " Because I love you."

" I cannot tell you why/' replied Maurice, coloring.

The fierce Republican near Genevieve was timid and

confused as a young girl.

Genevieve smiled.

"Say," replied she, "there is no sympathy between you, and I may, perhaps, believe you. You possess an

ardent mind, an ambitious spirit, are a man of birth and

education ; while Morand is a merchant grafted on a

chemist. He is timid and retiring. It is this timidity

that deters him from taking the first step toward your

acquaintance."

" And who asks him to make the first advance toward

me ? J have made fifty to him, and he has never re-

sponded."

" What is it, then ? " said Genevieve.

Maurice chose to remain silent.

The day after this conversation with Genevieve, he

THE CHEVALIER DE. MAISON ROUGE. 97

arrived there at two o'clock in the afternoon, and found

her ready dressed to go out.

" Welcome," said she ; " you will act as my chevalier ? "

" Where are we going ? " demanded Maurice.

" I am going to Auteuil. It will be a delightful excursion. I mean to walk part of the way. Our carriage will

convey us to the barrier, where it will wait for us. We

will then walk to Auteuil, and when I have finished my

business there, we will return to take "

" Oh !" said Maurice, "what a delightful day you offer me!"

The two young people went out. Beyond Passy the

carriage put them down. They sauntered along slowly,

and continued their journey on foot.

On arriving at Auteuil, Genevieve stopped.

"Wait for me," said she, " at the entrance to the park.

When I have finished, I will rejoin you."

"Where are you going, then ?" demanded Maurice.

" To a friend's house."

" Where I cannot accompany you ? "

Genevieve smilingly shook her head.

" Impossible ! " said she.

Maurice bit his lips.

" Very well," said he ; " I will wait."

" Ah ! what ? " said Genevieve.

" Nothing," replied Maurice. " Shall you be long ?"

" If I had thought it would inconvenience you, Maurice, if I had known you were engaged," said Genevieve, "I would not have requested you to do me the slight favor

to accompany me to-day. I might have asked "

" Monsieur Morand," interrupted Maurice, sharply.

" Xo ; you are aware Monsieur Moraud is at the manu-

factory, at Rambouillet, and does not return till this

evening."

" Then, to whnt do I owe the preference ? "

"Maurice," said Genevieve, softly,"! cannot keep the person I came to see waiting ; but if I am the least

constraint upon your return to Paris, only send back the

carriage."

E "PTMAS VOL.. XT.

93 THE CHEVALIER DE MAISON ROUGE.

"No, no, madame," replied Maurice, quickly ; "I am at your service."

He bowed to Genevieve, who, sighing softly, proceeded

on her way, and entered Auteuil.

Maurice went to the appointed place, and continued

walking backward and forward with long, impatient

strides, cutting off with his cane, like Tarquin, all the

heads of the weeds, and flowers of the thistles, which he

found upon the road ; and this road being narrow and

retired, left him at full liberty to trace and retrace his

footsteps as often as he pleased. And what occupied his

thoughts ? The desire to know whether Genevieve loved

him or not. Her manner to him was that of a friend or

sister ; but he felt this was not sufficient. He loved her

with an entire love. She had become his sole thought

by day, his renewed dream by night. At one time he only

asked to see her again ; he now required her to love him.

Genevieve was absent for an hour, which to him had ap-

peared an age ; when he saw her returning with a smile

upon her lips, Maurice, on the contrary, went to meet her

with a frowning brow.

Genevieve, smiling, took his arm.

" Here I am," said she; " pardon me, mon ami, for having made you wait."

Maurice only replied by a bow ; and they then entered

a shady lane, which, by a winding path, conducted them

into the high-road.

It was one of those delicious evenings in spring, when

every plant sends its fragrance on high, when every bird,

either seated on the branches, or skipping from spray to

spray, warbles its song of praise to God ; one of those

evenings that seem destined to live forever in our memory.

Maurice was silent, Genevieve pensive. She plucked with

one hand flowers for a bouquet, the other rested on the

arm of Maurice.

" What is the matter with you ?" said he, all at once, to Genevieve ; " and what makes you so sad to-day ? "

Genevieve might have answered my happiness. She

regarded him tenderly.

THE CHEVALIER DE MAISOTST ROUGE. 99

" But you," said she, "are you not more than usually sad to-day ? "

"I," said Maurice, "have reason to be sad ; I am unhappy ; but you "

" You unhappy ? "

" Doubtless ; do you not perceive sometimes from my

tremulous tones how much I suffer ? Does it not often

happen, when I am talking with you, or your husband, I

am compelled suddenly to seek the air, because I feel as

if my heart would burst ?' '

" But/' demanded Genevieve, embarrassed, " to what do you attribute this suffering ?"

" If I were an affected lady," said Maurice, attempting a laugh, " 1 should say it was a nervous attack."

" And at this moment do you suffer ? "

" Much," said Maurice.

" Let us return, then."

"What, already, madame ?"

" Without doubt. "

"True," said the young man; "T forgot Monsieur Morand would return from Rambouillet this evening j and

it is fast approaching."

Genevieve looked at him reproachfully.

" Oh, again ! " said she.

" Why, then, did you the other day, favor me with so

high an eulogium on Monsieur Morand ? It is your own

fault."

" How long is it since, to people we esteem," demanded Genevieve, "we may not express our real opinion of an

estimable man ? "

" It must be a very lively esteem to cause you to ac-

celerate your pace, as you at this moment are doing, for

fear of being too late by a few minutes."

" You arc to-day absolutely unjust, Maurice, llave I

not passed part of the day with you ? "

" You aru right ; and I am indeed too exacting," replied Maurice, subduing bis impetuosity. "Let us return to

meet Monsieur Morand."

Genevieve felt her anger pass from her iniiid to her heart

100 THE CHEVALIER DE MAISON ROUGE

" Yes," said she. " Let u return to Monsieur Morand.

He, at least, is a friend who never causes me pain."

" They are, indeed, valuable friends/' said Maurice,

" and I, for my part, should like a few such."

They were now upon the high-road ; the horizon, crim-

soned as the departing rays of the setting sun, glistened up-on the gilt moldings of the Dome des Invalides. A star,

which on the previous evening had attracted the attention

of Genevieve, sparkled in the azure of heaven. GeneviSve

quitted Maurice's arm with melancholy submission.

" Why have you made me suffer ? " said she.

"Ah!" said Maurice, "I am not so clever as some people, and do not know how to make love."

" Maur.'ce !" said Genevieve.

"Oh, madame, if he is certainly so worthy and so just, he ought not to suffer."

Genevieve again placed her white hand within the power-

ful arm of Maurice.

" I pray you," said she, in an altered tone, " to speak no more to speak no more !"

" And why is that ? "

" Because your voice makes me ill."

" You are displeased with everything, even my voice ? "

" Be silent, I conjure you."

" I will obey you, madame."

And the impetuous young man passed his hand over

his face, damp with perspiration.

Genevieve saw that he really suffered.

" You are my friend, Maurice," said Genevieve, looking at him kindly; "do not deprive me of your valuable

friendship."

" Oh ! you would not long regret it," said Maurice.

" You are mistaken," said Genevieve ; " I should regret it very long, and forever."

"Genevieve, Genevieve!" cried Maurice, " have pity on mo."

Genevieve shuddered. It was the first time Maurice

had uttered her name in these passionate accents.

" And now," continued Maurice, "since you have di-THE CHEVALIER DE MAISON ROUGE. 101

vined me', let me tell you all, Genevieve, for might you

kill me with a look, I have been silent too long ; I will

apeak, Genevieve."

" Monsieur," said the young woman,

silent ; I still pray you to do so, if not for my sake, for your own. Not another word ; in the name of Heaven,

not another word."

" Friendship, friendship ! if it be a friendship like this you profess for me, that you feel for Monsieur Morand, I

wish for no more of your friendship I, Genevieve, require

more than others."

" Enough," said Mme. Dixmer, with the gesture of a queen, "enough, Monsieur Lindey ; here is our carriage, please to conduct me to my husband's house. "

Maurice trembled with fever and emotion when Gene-

vieve, to rejoin the carriage, which indeed was only a few

paces distant, placed her hand on his arm.

They both entered the carriage ; Genevieve took the

front seat, and Maurice the one opposite. They traversed

Paris without either one or the other having uttered a

word. Only, all the way, Genevieve had held her hand-

kerchief before her eyes. When they entered the build-

ing, Dixmer was occupied in his counting house, Morand

had just returned from Rambouillet, and was changing

his dress. Genevieve held out her hand to Maurice, as

she entered her chamber.

" Adieu, Maurice ; you have wished it."

Maurice said nothing, but walked directly to the

mantelpiece, where hung a portrait of Genevieve. He

ardently kissed it, pressed it to his heart, replaced it, and went out. Maurice reached home without knowing how

he arrived there ; lie had passed through Paris without

seeing anything, without hearing anything ; all that

surrounded him appeared like a dream ; he was unable to

account for his actions, his words, or the sentiments

which induced them. There are moments when tJie

most serene spirits succumb under the violence of their

own emotions..

102 THE CHEVALIER DE MAISON ROUGE.

It was, as we have said, rarher a race than a return on

the part of Maurice. He undressed himself without the

assistance of his valet de chambre, neither replied to his

cook, who displayed his supper duly prepared for him, but

taking the day's letters from the table, he read them all,

one after the other, without comprehending a single word.

The burning jealousy, that intoxication of reason, was not

yet dissipated. At ten o'clock, Maurice mechanically

sought his bed, as, indeed, he had done everything else

since his parting with Genevieve.

If Maurice, in his cooler moments, had been told of this

extraordinary behavior in another, he would not have been

able to comprehend it, but would have considered him

mad to have pursued this desperate conduct, totally un-

authorized either by too much reserve or too much abandon

on the part of Genevieve. He now only felt this was a

terrible blow to all his hopes, of which he had never, even to himself, rendered an account, and upon which, vague

as they were, reposed all his visions of happiness, dreams

which, like an unseizable vapor, floated shapelessly towards the horizon, and there disappeared. Thus it happened,

as in similar cases, that Maurice, stunned by this blow,

dropped asleep directly he found himself in bed, where he

remained free from all sentiment till the morrow. He

was awakened by the noise of the official opening the door, who came as usual to unclose the windows, which opened

upon a large garden, and to bring some flowers.

At that time, in the year '93, much attention was paid

to the culture of forced flowers, and Maurice dearly loved

all flowers ; but now, without even bestowing a glance

upon them, lie half raised his heavy head, and supporting

it on his hand, endeavored to recall the events of the

preceding evening. Maurice asked himself, without being