Antonia

I-4

"You live alone, you say?" said Madame Thierry; "surely it is a merely temporary condition of affairs, and not a matter of inclination?"

"It is partly because I shrink from society and distrust myself. Do you like society, madame?"

"I do not hate it," said the widow. "I left it because I was in love; I forgot it, then returned to it without an effort and without losing my head. Then I left it again, from necessity and without regret. All this seems a little obscure to you, does it not?"

"I know that Monsieur Thierry was in very comfortable circumstances and had most desirable social connections; that he went into society and received at his own house the very elite of persons of intellect."

"But you do not know of our earlier life? It made some noise at the time; but that was a long while ago and you are so young!"

"Stay!" said the countess. "I beg your pardon for my forgetfulness. Now, I remember: you are of noble birth?"

"Yes; I was Mademoiselle de Meuil, of a good old noble family of Lorraine. Indeed I might have been quite wealthy if I had consented to marry at the bidding of my guardians. I loved Monsieur Thierry, who was then only a journeyman painter, without a name and without means. I left everything, broke with everything, threw everything to the winds to become his wife. Little by little he became famous, and just as he began to earn money rapidly, I received my inheritance. So we were repaid for our constancy, not only by thirty years of happiness, but by more or less prosperity in our old age."

"And now——?"

"Oh! now it's a different story! I am happy still, but in another way. I have lost my dearly loved companion, and with him all material comfort; but I still have such great consolation——"

She was about to mention her son, when a servant in livery came and informed the countess that her old friend Madame Desmorges was waiting for her in the house.

"To-morrow," said Julie as she rose to go, "we will talk at our ease, in your house or mine. I am anxious to know all about you, for I feel that I love you dearly. Forgive me for saying it so bluntly, but it is the truth! I must go to receive an elderly lady whom I cannot keep waiting; but I will give orders now for the workmen to come here to-morrow and open your prison door."

Madame Thierry was enchanted with Madame d'Estrelle. She was a woman of keen and spontaneous sympathies, still young in heart and full of enthusiasm, because she had lived in the enthusiastic atmosphere that surrounds a beloved artist, and she was more or less romantic, as a woman must be who has sacrificed everything to love. In the first flush of excitement, she would have told her son what had happened; but he was not there, and she exerted her ingenuity to arrange for him the same surprise she had enjoyed. Many times, as they were passing from comparative opulence to their present straitened and harassing condition, Julien had taken alarm at the privations with which his mother was threatened. They had had a pretty little cottage at Sèvres, with a fine garden, where Madame Thierry tended lovingly with her own hands the flowers which her husband and son used as models. They had had to sell everything. Julien's heart ached when he saw the poor old woman confined in Paris, in that pavilion, which they hired at a very modest rate. He hoped at first that they could enjoy the surrounding gardens; but the lease informed him that neither the Marquis d'Estrelle, their landlord, nor the wealthy Monsieur Thierry, their near neighbor and near kinsman, would allow them to walk elsewhere than in the street, which was always filled with workmen and with materials for buildings under construction.

"He complained bitterly of that condemned door," said Madame Thierry to herself, as she thought of her son. "A score of times he has had an idea of going and asking the countess to remove the prohibition for my benefit, promising on his honor that he himself would never cross the threshold of the pavilion. I have always dissuaded him from taking a step which might have subjected us to humiliation. How glad he will be to see me at liberty! But how shall I arrange matters to give him a little surprise? Suppose I should send him on an errand to-morrow morning, while the workmen are here?"

She was arranging her plan in her head, when Julien came home to dinner. The straw chair was still in the garden near the window. Madame d'Estrelle had placed her white parasol on the ground against the chair, and had forgotten to take it. Madame Thierry had gone into the kitchen to tell her only servant, a strapping Norman wench, to bring in the chair. So Julien saw those two objects, without any previous warning. He divined without comprehending; his head swam, his heart beat fast, and his mother found him so confused, so excited, so strange, that she was frightened, thinking that something had happened to him.

"What is it, in heaven's name?" she cried, running to him.

"Nothing, mother," said Julien, after a slight struggle with himself to overcome his emotion. "I hurried home and I was very warm, so that the cool air of the studio gave me a chill. I am hungry, let's have dinner; you can explain to me at the table the meaning of this visit you have received."

He took in the chair, unfolded and refolded the parasol, and kept it in his hands a long while, with an affectation of indifference; but his hands trembled, and he could not meet his mother's eyes.

"Mon Dieu!" she said to herself, "can it be that this increase of melancholy during the past fortnight, this refusal to sing, these stifled sighs, this peculiar behavior, this sleeplessness and loss of appetite are due to—But he doesn't know her, he has hardly seen her in the distance. Oh! my poor child, can it be possible?"

They took their places at the table. Julien questioned his mother calmly enough. She described the countess's visit with much discretion, restraining the impulse of her heart, which would have made her eloquent on the subject, had it not been for the discovery she had made, or the danger she began to foresee.

Julien felt that his mother was watching him, and he kept a close watch upon himself. He had never before had any secrets from her; but, during the last few days he had had one, and the fear of alarming her made him cunning.

"This step of Madame d'Estrelle," he said, "shows that she is a prudent and gracious woman. She has realized—a little tardily perhaps—that she owed you some consideration. Let us be grateful to her for her kindness of heart. You told her, I presume, that I had sufficient good sense not to consider myself included in the permission she has given you?"

"That goes without saying. I didn't mention you to her at all."

"Indeed, she probably is not aware of my existence, and perhaps it will be as well for you never to mention your son to her, so that she may not repent of her gracious behavior."

"Why shouldn't I mention you to her? I shall or shall not, according to the turn the conversation happens to take."

"You expect to see her often then? to go to her house perhaps?"

"To meet her in the garden unquestionably; whether I go to her house or not will depend on the duration of her kindly disposition."

"Was she agreeable?"

"Very agreeable and natural."

"Is she bright?"

"I don't know; she has plenty of good sense, I think."

"None of the arrogance of a grande dame?"

"She showed me none of it."

"Is she young?"

"Why, yes."

"And quite pretty, so they say?"

"Fie! do you mean to say you have never seen her?"

"I have, but at a distance. I have never happened to be near the window when she walked along our path."

"But you know that she walks there every day?"

"It was you who told me so. You must think I am very inquisitive, to watch all the beautiful women who pass? I am no longer a schoolboy, little mamma, I am a man, and my mind has been matured by disaster."

"Did you learn any more unpleasant news at Marcel's?"

"On the contrary, Uncle Antoine has agreed to become responsible for us."

"Ah! at last! and you didn't tell me!"

"You have been talking about something else."

"Which was more interesting to you?"

"Frankly, yes, for the moment! I am really overjoyed to think that you can walk in yonder garden at any time. I shall not be there to give you my arm, for naturally, I shall not be allowed to do that; but I shall see you go out and come back with more color and a little appetite, I hope!"

"Appetite! you are the one who has no appetite! You have eaten almost nothing to-day, and yet you said that you were hungry. Where are you going, pray?"

"To take Madame d'Estrelle's parasol to the porter at the hôtel. It would not be polite to neglect it."

"You are right, but Babet will take it. It is quite useless to show yourself to the people there. It might cause talk."

Madame Thierry took the parasol and placed it in her servant's hands herself.

"Not that way!" cried Julien, taking it from her. "Babet will spot the silk with her hot hands."

He carefully wrapped the parasol in white paper, and handed it to Babet, not without regret, but without hesitation. He saw clearly enough the anxiety of his mother, who was watching him closely.

Babet remained away ten minutes; that was more time than she needed to walk the length of the garden on the street, enter the courtyard and return. She reappeared at last with the parasol and a note from the countess.

"Madame,

"You need a parasol as you will be exposed to the sunshine. Be kind enough to use mine; I desire to deprive you of every pretext for not coming to call upon

"Your servant,

"JULIE D'ESTRELLE."

Madame Thierry glanced again at Julien, who controlled himself perfectly as he removed the paper in which he had wrapped the parasol. As soon as her back was turned, he covered it with kisses, like the romantic, excitable child he was, despite his claim to be a mature man. As for the poor mother, in her distrust and uncertainty she said to herself that every joy is attended by danger in this world, and that she might perhaps have reason to regret the amiable overtures of her too fascinating neighbor.

The next day the door swung on its hinges, and the keys were handed to Madame Thierry, who, urged on by Julien, ventured timidly to enter the countess's flowery domain. That lady had determined to do the honors of her primroses and hyacinths in person, but an inevitable disclosure by Marcel had changed the course of her ideas and cooled her zeal in some measure.

The solicitor had called again to discuss her affairs. She made haste to tell him that she had made his aunt's acquaintance, and spoke of her in the warmest possible terms. Then she went on to ask questions.

"The charming woman told me of her birth, her love and her past happiness, and she was on the point of telling me about what she calls her present happiness, when we were interrupted. I supposed, on the other hand, that she was very unhappy. Have I not heard that she had been forced to sell all that she had?"