“None that I know of, Monsieur Justin, except that Mademoiselle Rose is to be married to-morrow.”
“Much obliged, my respectable old friend, for so interesting and unexpected a reply to my question. Considering that I am the valet of Monsieur Danville, who plays the distinguished1 part of bridegroom in the little wedding comedy to which you refer, I think I may assure you, without offense2, that your news is, so far as I am concerned, of the stalest possible kind. Take a pinch of snuff, Monsieur Guillaume, and excuse me if I inform you that my question referred to public news, and not to the private affairs of the two families whose household interests we have the pleasure of promoting.”
“I don’t understand what you mean by such a phrase as promoting household interests, Monsieur Justin. I am the servant of Monsieur Louis Trudaine, who lives here with his sister, Mademoiselle Rose. You are the servant of Monsieur Danville, whose excellent mother has made up the match for him with my young lady. As servants, both of us, the pleasantest news we can have any concern with is news that is connected with the happiness of our masters. I have nothing to do with public affairs; and, being one of the old school, I make it my main object in life to mind my own business. If our homely3 domestic politics have no interests for you, allow me to express my regret, and to wish you a very good-evening.”
“Pardon me, my dear sir, I have not the slightest respect for the old school, or the least sympathy with people who only mind their own business. However, I accept your expressions of regret; I reciprocate4 your ‘Good-evening’; and I trust to find you improved in temper, dress, manners, and appearance the next time I have the honor of meeting you. Adieu, Monsieur Guillaume, and! Vive la bagatelle5!”
These scraps6 of dialogue were interchanged on a lovely summer evening in the year seventeen hundred and eighty-nine, before the back door of a small house which stood on the banks of the Seine, about three miles westward7 of the city of Rouen. The one speaker was lean, old, crabbed8 and slovenly9; the other was plump, young, oily-mannered and dressed in the most gorgeous livery costume of the period. The last days of genuine dandyism were then rapidly approaching all over the civilized10 world; and Monsieur Justin was, in his own way, dressed to perfection, as a living illustration of the expiring glories of his epoch11.
After the old servant had left him, he occupied himself for a few minutes in contemplating12, superciliously13 enough, the back view of the little house before which he stood. Judging by the windows, it did not contain more than six or eight rooms in all. Instead of stables and outhouses, there was a conservatory14 attached to the building on one side, and a low, long room, built of wood, gayly painted, on the other. One of the windows of this room was left uncurtained and through it could be seen, on a sort of dresser inside, bottles filled with strangely-colored liquids oddly-shaped utensils15 of brass16 and copper17, one end of a large furnace, and other objects, which plainly proclaimed that the apartment was used as a chemical laboratory.
“Think of our bride’s brother amusing himself in such a place as that with cooking drugs in saucepans,” muttered Monsieur Justin, peeping into the room. “I am the least particular man in the universe, but I must say I wish we were not going to be connected by marriage with an amateur apothecary18. Pah! I can smell the place through the window.”
With these words Monsieur Justin turned his back on the laboratory in disgust, and sauntered toward the cliffs overhanging the river.
Leaving the garden attached to the house, he ascended19 some gently rising ground by a winding20 path. Arrived at the summit, the whole view of the Seine, with its lovely green islands, its banks fringed with trees, its gliding21 boats, and little scattered22 water-side cottages, opened before him. Westward, where the level country appeared beyond the further bank of the river, the landscape was all aglow23 with the crimson24 of the setting sun. Eastward25, the long shadows and mellow26 intervening lights, the red glory that quivered on the rippling27 water, the steady ruby28 fire glowing on cottage windows that reflected the level sunlight, led the eye onward29 and onward, along the windings30 of the Seine, until it rested upon the spires31, towers, and broadly-massed houses of Rouen, with the wooded hills rising beyond them for background. Lovely to look on at any time, the view was almost supernaturally beautiful now under the gorgeous evening light that glowed up in it. All its attractions, however, were lost on the valet; he stood yawning with his hands in his pockets, looking neither to the right nor to the left, but staring straight before him at a little hollow, beyond which the ground sloped away smoothly32 to the brink33 of the cliff. A bench was placed here, and three persons—an old lady, a gentleman, and a young girl—were seated on it, watching the sunset, and by consequence turning their backs on Monsieur Justin. Near them stood two gentlemen, also looking toward the river and the distant view. These five figures attracted the valet’s attention, to the exclusion34 of every other object around him.
“There they are still,” he said to himself, discontentedly. “Madame Danville in the same place on the seat; my master, the bridegroom, dutifully next to her; Mademoiselle Rose, the bride, bashfully next to him; Monsieur Trudaine, the amateur apothecary brother, affectionately next to her; and Monsieur Lomaque, our queer land-steward, officially in waiting on the whole party. There they all are indeed, incomprehensibly wasting their time still in looking at nothing! Yes,” continued Monsieur Justin, lifting his eyes wearily, and staring hard, first up the river at Rouen, then down the river at the setting sun; “yes, plague take them! looking at nothing, absolutely and positively36 at nothing, all this while.”
Here Monsieur Justin yawned again, and, returning to the garden, sat himself down in an arbor37 and resignedly went to sleep.
If the valet had ventured near the five persons whom he had been apostrophizing from a distance, and if he had been possessed38 of some little refinement39 of observation, he could hardly have failed to remark that the bride and bridegroom of the morrow, and their companions on either side, were all, in a greater or less degree, under the influence of some secret restraint, which affected40 their conversation, their gestures, and even the expression of their faces. Madame Danville—a handsome, richly-dressed old lady, with very bright eyes, and a quick, suspicious manner—looked composedly and happily enough, as long as her attention was fixed41 on her son. But when she turned from him toward the bride, a hardly perceptible uneasiness passed over her face—an uneasiness which only deepened to positive distrust and dissatisfaction whenever she looked toward Mademoiselle Trudaine’s brother. In the same way, her son, who was all smiles and happiness while he was speaking with his future wife, altered visibly in manner and look exactly as his mother altered, whenever the presence of Monsieur Trudaine specially42 impressed itself on his attention. Then, again, Lomaque, the land-steward—quiet, sharp, skinny Lomaque, with the submissive manner, and the red-rimmed eyes—never looked up at his master’s future brother-in-law without looking away again rather uneasily, and thoughtfully drilling holes in the grass with his long sharp-pointed cane43. Even the bride herself—the pretty, innocent girl, with her childish shyness of manner—seemed to be affected like the others. Doubt, if not distress44, overshadowed her face from time to time, and the hand which her lover held trembled a little, and grew restless, when she accidentally caught her brother’s eye.
Strangely enough there was nothing to repel45, but, on the contrary, everything to attract in the look and manner of the person whose mere46 presence seemed to exercise such a curiously47 constraining48 influence over the wedding-party. Louis Trudaine was a remarkably49 handsome man. His expression was singularly kind and gentle; his manner irresistibly50 winning in its frank, manly51 firmness and composure. His words, when he occasionally spoke52, seemed as unlikely to give offense as his looks; for he only opened his lips in courteous53 reply to questions directly addressed to him. Judging by a latent mournfulness in the tones of his voice, and by the sorrowful tenderness which clouded his kind, earnest eyes whenever they rested on his sister, his thoughts were certainly not of the happy or the hopeful kind. But he gave them no direct expression; he intruded54 his secret sadness, whatever it might be, on no one of his companions. Nevertheless, modest and self-restrained as he was, there was evidently some reproving or saddening influence in his presence which affected the spirits of every one near him, and darkened the eve of the wedding to bride and bridegroom alike.
As the sun slowly sank in the heavens, the conversation flagged more and more. After a long silence, the bridegroom was the first to start a new subject.
“Rose, love,” he said, “that magnificent sunset is a good omen55 for our marriage; it promises another lovely day to-morrow.”
The bride laughed and blushed.
“Do you really believe in omens56, Charles?” she said.
“My dear,” interposed the old lady, before her son could answer, “if Charles does believe in omens, it is nothing to laugh at. You will soon know better, when you are his wife, than to confound him, even in the slightest things, with the common herd57 of people. All his convictions are well founded—so well, that if I thought he really did believe in omens, I should most assuredly make up my mind to believe in them too.”
“I beg your pardon, madame,” Rose began, tremulously, “I only meant—”
“My dear child, have you so little knowledge of the world as to suppose that I could be offended—”
“Let Rose speak,” said the young man.
He turned round petulantly58, almost with the air of a spoiled child, to his mother, as he said those words. She had been looking fondly and proudly on him the moment before. Now her eyes wandered disconcertedly from his face; she hesitated an instant with a sudden confusion which seemed quite foreign to her character, then whispered in his ear,
“Am I to blame, Charles, for trying to make her worthy59 of you?”
Her son took no notice of the question. He only reiterated60 sharply, “Let Rose speak.”
“I really had nothing to say,” faltered61 the young girl, growing more and more confused.
“Oh, but you had!”
There was such an ungracious sharpness in his voice, such an outburst of petulance62 in his manner as he spoke, that his mother gave him a warning touch on the arm, and whispered “Hush!”
Monsieur Lomaque, the land-steward, and Monsieur Trudaine, the brother, both glanced searchingly at the bride, as the words passed the bridegroom’s lips. She seemed to be frightened and astonished, rather than irritated or hurt. A curious smile puckered63 up Lomaque’s lean face, as he looked demurely64 down on the ground, and began drilling a fresh hole in the turf with the sharp point of his cane. Trudaine turned aside quickly, and, sighing, walked away a few paces; then came back, and seemed about to speak, but Danville interrupted him.
“Pardon me, Rose,” he said; “I am so jealous of even the appearance of any want of attention toward you, that I was nearly allowing myself to be irritated about nothing.”
He kissed her hand very gracefully65 and tenderly as he made his excuse; but there was a latent expression in his eye which was at variance67 with the apparent spirit of his action. It was noticed by nobody but observant and submissive Monsieur Lomaque, who smiled to himself again, and drilled harder than ever at his hole in the grass.
“I think Monsieur Trudaine was about to speak,” said Madame Danville. “Perhaps he will have no objection to let us hear what he was going to say.”
“None, madame,” replied Trudaine, politely. “I was about to take upon myself the blame of Rose’s want of respect for believers in omens, by confessing that I have always encouraged her to laugh at superstitions68 of every kind.”
“You a ridiculer of superstitions?” said Danville, turning quickly on him. “You, who have built a laboratory; you, who are an amateur professor of the occult arts of chemistry—a seeker after the Elixir69 of Life. On my word of honor, you astonish me!”
There was an ironical70 politeness in his voice, look, and manner as he said this, which his mother and his land-steward, Monsieur Lomaque, evidently knew how to interpret. The first touched his arm again and whispered, “Be careful!” the second suddenly grew serious, and left off drilling his hole in the grass. Rose neither heard the warning of Madame Danville, nor noticed the alteration71 in Lomaque. She was looking round at her brother, and was waiting with a bright, affectionate smile to hear his answer. He nodded, as if to reassure72 her, before he spoke again to Danville.
“You have rather romantic ideas about experiments in chemistry,” he said, quietly. “Mine have so little connection with what you call the occult arts that all the world might see them, if all the world thought it worth while. The only Elixirs73 of Life that I know of are a quiet heart and a contented35 mind. Both those I found, years and years ago, when Rose and I first came to live together in the house yonder.”
He spoke with a quiet sadness in his voice, which meant far more to his sister than the simple words he uttered. Her eyes filled with tears; she turned for a moment from her lover, and took her brother’s hand. “Don’t talk, Louis, as if you thought you were going to lose your sister, because—” Her lips began to tremble, and she stopped suddenly.
“More jealous than ever of your taking her away from him!” whispered Madame Danville in her son’s ear. “Hush! don’t, for God’s sake, take any notice of it,” she added, hurriedly, as he rose from the seat and faced Trudaine with undisguised irritation74 and impatience75 in his manner. Before he could speak, the old servant Guillaume made his appearance, and announced that coffee was ready. Madame Danville again said “Hush!” and quickly took one of his arms, while he offered the other to Rose. “Charles,” said the young girl, amazedly, “how flushed your face is, and how your arm trembles!”
He controlled himself in a moment, smiled, and said to her: “Can’t you guess why, Rose? I am thinking of to-morrow.” While he was speaking, he passed close by the land-steward, on his way back to the house with the ladies. The smile returned to Monsieur Lomaque’s lean face, and a curious light twinkled in his red-rimmed eyes as he began a fresh hole in the grass.
“Won’t you go indoors, and take some coffee?” asked Trudaine, touching76 the land-steward on the arm.
Monsieur Lomaque started a little and left his cane sticking in the ground. “A thousand thanks, monsieur,” he said; “may I be allowed to follow you?”
“I confess the beauty of the evening makes me a little unwilling77 to leave this place just yet.”
“Ah! the beauties of Nature—I feel them with you, Monsieur Trudaine; I feel them here.” Saying this, Lomaque laid one hand on his heart, and with the other pulled his stick out of the grass. He had looked as little at the landscape or the setting sun as Monsieur Justin himself.
They sat down, side by side, on the empty bench; and then there followed an awkward pause. Submissive Lomaque was too discreet78 to forget his place, and venture on starting a new topic. Trudaine was preoccupied79, and disinclined to talk. It was necessary, however, in common politeness, to say something. Hardly attending himself to his own words, he began with a commonplace phrase: “I regret, Monsieur Lomaque, that we have not had more opportunities of bettering our acquaintance.”
“I feel deeply indebted,” rejoined the land-steward, “to the admirable Madame Danville for having chosen me as her escort hither from her son’s estate near Lyons, and having thereby80 procured81 for me the honor of this introduction.” Both Monsieur Lomaque’s red-rimmed eyes were seized with a sudden fit of winking82, as he made this polite speech. His enemies were accustomed to say that, whenever he was particularly insincere, or particularly deceitful, he always took refuge in the weakness of his eyes, and so evaded83 the trying ordeal84 of being obliged to look steadily85 at the person whom he was speaking with.
“I was pleased to hear you mention my late father’s name, at dinner, in terms of high respect,” continued Trudaine, resolutely86 keeping up the conversation. “Did you know him?”
“I am indirectly87 indebted to your excellent father,” answered the land-steward, “for the very situation which I now hold. At a time when the good word of a man of substance and reputation was needed to save me from poverty and ruin, your father spoke that word. Since then I have, in my own very small way, succeeded in life, until I have risen to the honor of superintending the estate of Monsieur Danville.”
“Excuse me, but your way of speaking of your present situation rather surprises me. Your father, I believe, was a merchant, just as Danville’s father was a merchant; the only difference between them was that one failed and the other realized a large fortune. Why should you speak of yourself as honored by holding your present place?”
“Have you never heard?” exclaimed Lomaque, with an appearance of great astonishment88, “or can you have heard, and forgotten, that Madame Danville is descended89 from one of the noble houses of France? Has she never told you, as she has often told me, that she condescended90 when she married her late husband; and that her great object in life is to get the title of her family (years since extinct in the male line) settled on her son?”
“Yes,” replied Trudaine; “I remember to have heard something of this, and to have paid no great attention to it at the time, having little sympathy with such aspirations91 as you describe. You have lived many years in Danville’s service, Monsieur Lomaque; have you”—he hesitated for a moment, then continued, looking the land-steward full in the face—“have you found him a good and kind master?”
Lomaque’s thin lips seemed to close instinctively92 at the question, as if he were never going to speak again. He bowed—Trudaine waited—he only bowed again. Trudaine waited a third time. Lomaque looked at his host with perfect steadiness for an instant, then his eyes began to get weak again. “You seem to have some special interest,” he quietly remarked, “if I may say so without offense, in asking me that question.”
“I deal frankly93, at all hazards, with every one,” returned Trudaine; “and stranger as you are, I will deal frankly with you. I acknowledge that I have an interest in asking that question—the dearest, the tenderest of all interests.” At those last words, his voice trembled for a moment, but he went on firmly; “from the beginning of my sister’s engagement with Danville, I made it my duty not to conceal94 my own feelings; my conscience and my affection for Rose counseled me to be candid95 to the last, even though my candor96 should distress or offend others. When we first made the acquaintance of Madame Danville, and when I first discovered that her son’s attentions to Rose were not unfavorably received, I felt astonished, and, though it cost me a hard effort, I did not conceal that astonishment from my sister—”
Lomaque, who had hitherto been all attention, started here, and threw up his hands in amazement97. “Astonished, did I hear you say? Astonished, Monsieur Trudaine, that the attentions of a young gentleman, possessed of all the graces and accomplishments98 of a highly-bred Frenchman, should be favorably received by a young lady! Astonished that such a dancer, such a singer, such a talker, such a notoriously fascinating ladies’ man as Monsieur Danville, should, by dint99 of respectful assiduity, succeed in making some impression on the heart of Mademoiselle Rose! Oh, Monsieur Trudaine, venerated100 Monsieur Trudaine, this is almost too much to credit!”
Lomaque’s eyes grew weaker than ever, and winked101 incessantly102 as he uttered this apostrophe. At the end, he threw up his hands again, and blinked inquiringly all round him, in mute appeal to universal nature.
“When, in the course of time, matters were further advanced,” continued Trudaine, without paying any attention to the interruption; “when the offer of marriage was made, and when I knew that Rose had in her own heart accepted it, I objected, and I did not conceal my objections—”
“Heavens!” interposed Lomaque again, clasping his hands this time with a look of bewilderment; “what objections, what possible objections to a man young and well-bred, with an immense fortune and an uncompromised character? I have heard of these objections; I know they have made bad blood; and I ask myself again and again, what can they be?”
“God knows I have often tried to dismiss them from my mind as fanciful and absurd,” said Trudaine, “and I have always failed. It is impossible, in your presence, that I can describe in detail what my own impressions have been, from the first, of the master whom you serve. Let it be enough if I confide103 to you that I cannot, even now, persuade myself of the sincerity104 of his attachment105 to my sister, and that I feel—in spite of myself, in spite of my earnest desire to put the most implicit106 confidence in Rose’s choice—a distrust of his character and temper, which now, on the eve of the marriage, amounts to positive terror. Long secret suffering, doubt, and suspense107, wring108 this confession109 from me, Monsieur Lomaque, almost unawares, in defiance110 of caution, in defiance of all the conventionalities of society. You have lived for years under the same roof with this man; you have seen him in his most unguarded and private moments. I tempt111 you to betray no confidence—I only ask you if you can make me happy by telling me that I have been doing your master grievous injustice112 by my opinion of him? I ask you to take my hand, and tell me if you can, in all honor, that my sister is not risking the happiness of her whole life by giving herself in marriage to Danville to-morrow!”
He held out his hand while he spoke. By some strange chance, Lomaque happened just at that moment to be looking away toward those beauties of Nature which he admired so greatly. “Really, Monsieur Trudaine, really such an appeal from you, at such a time, amazes me.” Having got so far, he stopped and said no more.
“When we first sat down together here, I had no thought of making this appeal, no idea of talking to you as I have talked,” pursued the other. “My words have escaped me, as I told you, almost unawares; you must make allowances for them and for me. I cannot expect others, Monsieur Lomaque, to appreciate and understand my feelings for Rose. We two have lived alone in the world together; father, mother, kindred, they all died years since, and left us. I am so much older than my sister that I have learned to feel toward her more as a father than as a brother. All my life, all my dearest hopes, all my highest expectations, have centered in her. I was past the period of my boyhood when my mother put my little child sister’s hand in mine, and said to me on her death-bed: ‘Louis, be all to her that I have been, for she has no one left to look to but you.’ Since then the loves and ambitions of other men have not been my loves or my ambitions. Sister Rose—as we all used to call her in those past days, as I love to call her still—Sister Rose has been the one aim, the one happiness, the one precious trust, the one treasured reward, of all my life. I have lived in this poor house, in this dull retirement114, as in a paradise, because Sister Rose—my innocent, happy, bright-faced Eve—has lived here with me. Even if the husband of her choice had been the husband of mine, the necessity of parting with her would have been the hardest, the bitterest of trials. As it is, thinking what I think, dreading116 what I dread115, judge what my feelings must be on the eve of her marriage; and know why, and with what object, I made the appeal which surprised you a moment since, but which cannot surprise you now. Speak if you will—I can say no more.” He sighed bitterly; his head dropped on his breast, and the hand which he had extended to Lomaque trembled as he withdrew it and let it fall at his side.
The land-steward was not a man accustomed to hesitate, but he hesitated now. He was not usually at a loss for phrases in which to express himself, but he stammered117 at the very outset of his reply. “Suppose I answered,” he began, slowly; “suppose I told you that you wronged him, would my testimony118 really be strong enough to shake opinions, or rather presumptions119, which have been taking firmer and firmer hold of you for months and months past? Suppose, on the other hand, that my master had his little” (Lomaque hesitated before he pronounced the next word)—“his little—infirmities, let me say; but only hypothetically, mind that—infirmities; and suppose I had observed them, and was willing to confide them to you, what purpose would such a confidence answer now, at the eleventh hour, with Mademoiselle Rose’s heart engaged, with the marriage fixed for to-morrow? No! no! trust me—”
Trudaine looked up suddenly. “I thank you for reminding me, Monsieur Lomaque, that it is too late now to make inquiries120, and by consequence too late also to trust in others. My sister has chosen; and on the subject of that choice my lips shall be henceforth sealed. The events of the future are with God; whatever they may be, I hope I am strong enough to bear my part in them with the patience and the courage of a man! I apologize, Monsieur Lomaque, for having thoughtlessly embarrassed you by questions which I had no right to ask. Let us return to the house—I will show you the way.”
Lomaque’s lips opened, then closed again; he bowed uneasily, and his sallow complexion121 whitened for a moment.
Trudaine led the way in silence back to the house; the land-steward following slowly at a distance of several paces, and talking in whispers to himself. “His father was the saving of me,” muttered Lomaque; “that is truth, and there is no getting over it; his father was the saving of me; and yet here am I—no! it’s too late!—too late to speak—too late to act—too late to do anything!”
Close to the house they were met by the old servant.
“My young lady has just sent me to call you in to coffee, monsieur,” said Guillaume. “She has kept a cup hot for you, and another cup for Monsieur Lomaque.”
The land-steward started—this time with genuine astonishment. “For me!” he exclaimed. “Mademoiselle Rose has troubled herself to keep a cup of coffee hot for me?” The old servant stared; Trudaine stopped and looked back.
“What is there so very surprising,” he asked, “in such an ordinary act of politeness on my sister’s part?”
“Excuse me, Monsieur Trudaine,” answered Lomaque; “you have not passed such an existence as mine—you are not a friendless old man—you have a settled position in the world, and are used to be treated with consideration. I am not. This is the first occasion in my life on which I find myself an object for the attention of a young lady, and it takes me by surprise. I repeat my excuses; pray let us go in.”
Trudaine made no reply to this curious explanation. He wondered at it a little, however, and he wondered still more when, on entering the drawing-room, he saw Lomaque walk straight up to his sister, and—apparently not noticing that Danville was sitting at the harpsichord122 and singing at the time—address her confusedly and earnestly with a set speech of thanks for his hot cup of coffee. Rose looked perplexed123, and half inclined to laugh, as she listened to him. Madame Danville, who sat by her side, frowned, and tapped the land-steward contemptuously on the arm with her fan.
“Be so good as to keep silent until my son has done singing,” she said. Lomaque made a low bow, and retiring to a table in a corner, took up a newspaper lying on it. If Madame Danville had seen the expression that came over his face when he turned away from her, proud as she was, her aristocratic composure might possibly have been a little ruffled124.
Danville had finished his song, had quitted the harpsichord, and was talking in whispers to his bride; Madame Danville was adding a word to the conversation every now and then; Trudaine was seated apart at the far end of the room, thoughtfully reading a letter which he had taken from his pocket, when an exclamation125 from Lomaque, who was still engaged with the newspaper, caused all the other occupants of the apartment to suspend their employments and look up.
“What is it?” asked Danville, impatiently.
“Shall I be interrupting if I explain?” inquired Lomaque, getting very weak in the eyes again, as he deferentially126 addressed himself to Madame Danville.
“You have already interrupted us,” said the old lady, sharply; “so you may now just as well explain.”
“It is a passage from the Scientific Intelligence which has given me great delight, and which will be joyful127 news for every one here.” Saying this, Lomaque looked significantly at Trudaine, and then read from the newspaper these lines:
“ACADEMY OF SCIENCES, PARIS.—The vacant sub-professorship of chemistry has been offered, we are rejoiced to hear, to a gentleman whose modesty128 has hitherto prevented his scientific merits from becoming sufficiently129 prominent in the world. To the members of the academy he has been long since known as the originator of some of the most remarkable130 improvements in chemistry which have been made of late years—improvements, the credit of which he has, with rare, and we were almost about to add, culpable131 moderation, allowed others to profit by with impunity132. No man in any profession is more thoroughly133 entitled to have a position of trust and distinction conferred on him by the State than the gentleman to whom we refer—M. Louis Trudaine.”
Before Lomaque could look up from the paper to observe the impression which his news produced, Rose had gained her brother’s side and was kissing him in a flutter of delight.
“Dear Louis,” she cried, clapping her hands, “let me be the first to congratulate you! How proud and glad I am! You accept the professorship, of course?”
Trudaine, who had hastily and confusedly put his letter back in his pocket the moment Lomaque began to read, seemed at a loss for an answer. He patted his sister’s hand rather absently, and said:
“I have not made up my mind; don’t ask me why, Rose—at least not now, not just now.” An expression of perplexity and distress came over his face, as he gently motioned her to resume her chair.
“Pray, is a sub-professor of chemistry supposed to hold the rank of a gentleman?” asked Madame Danville, without the slightest appearance of any special interest in Lomaque’s news.
“Of course not,” replied her son, with a sarcastic134 laugh; “he is expected to work and make himself useful. What gentleman does that?”
“Charles!” exclaimed the old lady, reddening with anger.
“Bah!” cried Danville, turning his back on her, “enough of chemistry. Lomaque, now you have begun reading the newspaper, try if you can’t find something interesting to read about. What are the last accounts from Paris? Any more symptoms of a general revolt?”
Lomaque turned to another part of the paper. “Bad, very bad prospects135 for the restoration of tranquillity,” he said. “Necker, the people’s Minister, is dismissed. Placards against popular gatherings136 are posted all over Paris. The Swiss Guards have been ordered to the Champs Elysees, with four pieces of artillery137. No more is yet known, but the worst is dreaded138. The breach139 between the aristocracy and the people is widening fatally almost hour by hour.”
Here he stopped and laid down the newspaper. Trudaine took it from him, and shook his head forebodingly as he looked over the paragraph which had just been read.
“Bah!” cried Madame Danville. “The People, indeed! Let those four pieces of artillery be properly loaded, let the Swiss Guards do their duty, and we shall hear no more of the People!”
“I advise you not to be sure of that,” said her son, carelessly; “there are rather too many people in Paris for the Swiss Guards to shoot conveniently. Don’t hold your head too aristocratically high, mother, till we are quite certain which way the wind really does blow. Who knows if I may not have to bow just as low one of these days to King Mob as ever you courtesied in your youth to King Louis the Fifteenth?”
He laughed complacently140 as he ended, and opened his snuff-box. His mother rose from her chair, her face crimson with indignation.
“I won’t hear you talk so—it shocks, it horrifies141 me!” she exclaimed, with vehement142 gesticulation. “No, no! I decline to hear another word. I decline to sit by patiently while my son, whom I love, jests at the most sacred principles, and sneers143 at the memory of an anointed king. This is my reward, is it, for having yielded and having come here, against all the laws of etiquette144, the night before the marriage? I comply no longer; I resume my own will and my own way. I order you, my son, to accompany me back to Rouen. We are the bridegroom’s party, and we have no business overnight at the house of the bride. You meet no more till you meet at the church. Justin, my coach! Lomaque, pick up my hood113. Monsieur Trudaine, thanks for your hospitality; I shall hope to return it with interest the first time you are in our neighborhood. Mademoiselle, put on your best looks to-morrow, along with your wedding finery; remember that my son’s bride must do honor to my son’s taste. Justin! my coach—drone, vagabond, idiot, where is my coach?”
“My mother looks handsome when she is in a passion, does she not, Rose?” said Danville, quietly putting up his snuff-box as the old lady sailed out of the room. “Why, you seem quite frightened, love,” he added, taking her hand with his easy, graceful66 air; “frightened, let me assure you, without the least cause. My mother has but that one prejudice, and that one weak point, Rose. You will find her a very dove for gentleness, as long as you do not wound her pride of caste. Come, come, on this night, of all others, you must not send me away with such a face as that.”
He bent145 down and whispered to her a bridegroom’s compliment, which brought the blood back to her cheek in an instant.
“Ah, how she loves him—how dearly she loves him!” thought her brother, watching her from his solitary146 corner of the room, and seeing the smile that brightened her blushing face when Danville kissed her hand at parting.
Lomaque, who had remained imperturbably147 cool during the outbreak of the old lady’s anger—Lomaque, whose observant eyes had watched sarcastically148 the effect of the scene between mother and son on Trudaine and his sister, was the last to take leave. After he had bowed to Rose with a certain gentleness in his manner, which contrasted strangely with his wrinkled, haggard face, he held out his hand to her brother “I did not take your hand when we sat together on the bench,” he said; “may I take it now?”
Trudaine met his advance courteously149, but in silence. “You may alter your opinion of me one of these days.” Adding those words in a whisper, Monsieur Lomaque bowed once more to the bride and went out.
For a few minutes after the door had closed the brother and sister kept silence. “Our last night together at home!” That was the thought which now filled the heart of each. Rose was the first to speak. Hesitating a little as she approached her brother, she said to him, anxiously:
“I am sorry for what happened with Madame Danville, Louis. Does it make you think the worse of Charles?”
“I can make allowance for Madame Danville’s anger,” returned Trudaine, evasively, “because she spoke from honest conviction.”
“Honest?” echoed Rose, sadly, “honest?—ah, Louis! I know you are thinking disparagingly150 of Charles’s convictions, when you speak so of his mother’s.”
Trudaine smiled and shook his head; but she took no notice of the gesture of denial—only stood looking earnestly and wistfully into his face. Her eyes began to fill; she suddenly threw her arms round his neck, and whispered to him: “Oh, Louis, Louis! how I wish I could teach you to see Charles with my eyes!”
He felt her tears on his cheek as she spoke, and tried to reassure her.
“You shall teach me, Rose—you shall, indeed. Come, come, we must keep up our spirits, or how are you to look your best to-morrow?”
He unclasped her arms, and led her gently to a chair. At the same moment there was a knock at the door, and Rose’s maid appeared, anxious to consult her mistress on some of the preparations for the wedding ceremony. No interruption could have been more welcome just at that time. It obliged Rose to think of present trifles, and it gave her brother an excuse for retiring to his study.
He sat down by his desk, doubting and heavy-hearted, and placed the letter from the Academy of Sciences open before him.
Passing over all the complimentary151 expressions which it contained, his eye rested only on these lines at the end: “During the first three years of your professorship, you will be required to reside in or near Paris nine months out of the year, for the purpose of delivering lectures and superintending experiments from time to time in the laboratories.” The letter in which these lines occurred offered him such a position as in his modest self-distrust he had never dreamed of before; the lines themselves contained the promise of such vast facilities for carrying on his favorite experiments as he could never hope to command in his own little study, with his own limited means; and yet, there he now sat doubting whether he should accept or reject the tempting152 honors and advantages that were offered to him—doubting for his sister’s sake!
“Nine months of the year in Paris,” he said to himself, sadly; “and Rose is to pass her married life at Lyons. Oh, if I could clear my heart of its dread on her account—if I could free my mind of its forebodings for her future—how gladly I would answer this letter by accepting the trust it offers me!”
He paused for a few minutes, and reflected. The thoughts that were in him marked their ominous153 course in the growing paleness of his cheek, in the dimness that stole over his eyes. “If this cleaving154 distrust from which I cannot free myself should be in very truth the mute prophecy of evil to come—to come, I know not when—if it be so (which God forbid!), how soon she may want a friend, a protector near at hand, a ready refuge in the time of her trouble! Where shall she then find protection or refuge? With that passionate155 woman? With her husband’s kindred and friends?”
He shuddered156 as the thought crossed his mind, and opening a blank sheet of paper, dipped his pen in the ink. “Be all to her, Louis, that I have been,” he murmured to himself, repeating his mother’s last words, and beginning the letter while he uttered them. It was soon completed. It expressed in the most respectful terms his gratitude157 for the offer made to him, and his inability to accept it, in consequence of domestic circumstances which it was needless to explain. The letter was directed, sealed; it only remained for him to place it in the post-bag, lying near at hand. At this last decisive act he hesitated. He had told Lomaque, and he had firmly believed himself, that he had conquered all ambitions for his sister’s sake. He knew now, for the first time, that he had only lulled158 them to rest—he knew that the letter from Paris had aroused them. His answer was written, his hand was on the post-bag, and at that moment the whole struggle had to be risked over again—risked when he was most unfit for it! He was not a man under any ordinary circumstances to procrastinate159, but he procrastinated160 now.
“Night brings counsel; I will wait till to-morrow,” he said to himself, and put the letter of refusal in his pocket, and hastily quitted the laboratory.
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1
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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reciprocate
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| v.往复运动；互换；回报，酬答 | |
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bagatelle
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| n.琐事；小曲儿 | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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crabbed
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| adj.脾气坏的；易怒的；（指字迹）难辨认的；（字迹等）难辨认的v.捕蟹( crab的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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slovenly
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| adj.懒散的，不整齐的，邋遢的 | |
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civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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epoch
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| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
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contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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superciliously
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| adv.高傲地；傲慢地 | |
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conservatory
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| n.温室，音乐学院；adj.保存性的，有保存力的 | |
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utensils
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| 器具，用具，器皿( utensil的名词复数 )； 器物 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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apothecary
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| n.药剂师 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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aglow
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| adj.发亮的；发红的；adv.发亮地 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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27
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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ruby
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| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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windings
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| （道路、河流等）蜿蜒的，弯曲的( winding的名词复数 )； 缠绕( wind的现在分词 )； 卷绕； 转动（把手） | |
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spires
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| n.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
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32
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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34
exclusion
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| n.拒绝，排除，排斥，远足，远途旅行 | |
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35
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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arbor
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| n.凉亭；树木 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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42
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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43
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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44
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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45
repel
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| v.击退，抵制，拒绝，排斥 | |
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46
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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48
constraining
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| 强迫( constrain的现在分词 )； 强使； 限制； 约束 | |
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49
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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50
irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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51
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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52
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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53
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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54
intruded
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| n.侵入的，推进的v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的过去式和过去分词 )；把…强加于 | |
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55
omen
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| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
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56
omens
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| n.前兆，预兆( omen的名词复数 ) | |
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57
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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58
petulantly
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59
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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60
reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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62
petulance
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| n.发脾气，生气，易怒，暴躁，性急 | |
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63
puckered
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| v.（使某物）起褶子或皱纹( pucker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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64
demurely
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| adv.装成端庄地，认真地 | |
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65
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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67
variance
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| n.矛盾，不同 | |
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68
superstitions
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| 迷信，迷信行为( superstition的名词复数 ) | |
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69
elixir
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| n.长生不老药，万能药 | |
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70
ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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71
alteration
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| n.变更，改变；蚀变 | |
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72
reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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73
elixirs
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| n.炼金药，长生不老药( elixir的名词复数 )；酏剂 | |
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74
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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75
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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76
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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77
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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80
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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81
procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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82
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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83
evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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84
ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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85
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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87
indirectly
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| adv.间接地，不直接了当地 | |
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88
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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89
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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90
condescended
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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91
aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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92
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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93
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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94
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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95
candid
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| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
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96
candor
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| n.坦白，率真 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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accomplishments
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| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
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dint
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| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
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venerated
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| 敬重（某人或某事物），崇敬( venerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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101
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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102
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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103
confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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104
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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105
attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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106
implicit
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| a.暗示的，含蓄的，不明晰的，绝对的 | |
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107
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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108
wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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109
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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110
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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111
tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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112
injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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113
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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114
retirement
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| n.退休，退职 | |
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115
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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116
dreading
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| v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
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117
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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118
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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119
presumptions
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| n.假定( presumption的名词复数 )；认定；推定；放肆 | |
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120
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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121
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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122
harpsichord
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| n.键琴（钢琴前身） | |
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123
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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124
ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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125
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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126
deferentially
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| adv.表示敬意地，谦恭地 | |
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127
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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128
modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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129
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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130
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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131
culpable
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| adj.有罪的，该受谴责的 | |
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132
impunity
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| n.(惩罚、损失、伤害等的)免除 | |
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133
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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134
sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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135
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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136
gatherings
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| 聚集( gathering的名词复数 )； 收集； 采集； 搜集 | |
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137
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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138
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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139
breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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140
complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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141
horrifies
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| v.使震惊，使感到恐怖( horrify的第三人称单数 ) | |
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142
vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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143
sneers
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| 讥笑的表情（言语）( sneer的名词复数 ) | |
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144
etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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145
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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146
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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147
imperturbably
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| adv.泰然地，镇静地，平静地 | |
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148
sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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149
courteously
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| adv.有礼貌地，亲切地 | |
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150
disparagingly
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| adv.以贬抑的口吻，以轻视的态度 | |
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151
complimentary
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| adj.赠送的，免费的，赞美的，恭维的 | |
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152
tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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153
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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154
cleaving
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| v.劈开，剁开，割开( cleave的现在分词 ) | |
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155
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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156
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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157
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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158
lulled
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| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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159
procrastinate
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| v.耽搁，拖延 | |
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160
procrastinated
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| 拖延，耽搁( procrastinate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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