It was nothing but an accident, an accident pure and simple. On that particular evening the princess' rooms were open, and as they appeared dark after the brilliantly lighted parlors1, Baron2 d'Etraille, who was tired of standing3, inadvertently wandered into an empty bedroom.
He looked round for a chair in which to have a doze4, as he was sure his wife would not leave before daylight. As soon as he became accustomed to the light of the room he distinguished5 the big bed with its azure-and-gold hangings, in the middle of the great room, looking like a catafalque in which love was buried, for the princess was no longer young. Behind it, a large bright surface looked like a lake seen at a distance. It was a large mirror, discreetly6 covered with dark drapery, that was very rarely let down, and seemed to look at the bed, which was its accomplice7. One might almost fancy that it had reminiscences, and that one might see in it charming female forms and the gentle movement of loving arms.
The baron stood still for a moment, smiling, almost experiencing an emotion on the threshold of this chamber8 dedicated9 to love. But suddenly something appeared in the looking-glass, as if the phantoms10 which he had evoked11 had risen up before him. A man and a woman who had been sitting on a low couch concealed12 in the shadow had arisen, and the polished surface, reflecting their figures, showed that they were kissing each other before separating.
Baron d'Etraille recognized his wife and the Marquis de Cervigne. He turned and went away like a man who is fully13 master of himself, and waited till it was day before taking away the baroness14; but he had no longer any thoughts of sleeping.
As soon as they were alone he said:
“Madame, I saw you just now in Princesse de Raynes' room; I need say no more, and I am not fond either of reproaches, acts of violence, or of ridicule15. As I wish to avoid all such things, we shall separate without any scandal. Our lawyers will settle your position according to my orders. You will be free to live as you please when you are no longer under my roof; but, as you will continue to bear my name, I must warn you that should any scandal arise I shall show myself inflexible16.”
She tried to speak, but he stopped her, bowed, and left the room.
He was more astonished and sad than unhappy. He had loved her dearly during the first period of their married life; but his ardor17 had cooled, and now he often amused himself elsewhere, either in a theatre or in society, though he always preserved a certain liking18 for the baroness.
She was very young, hardly four-and-twenty, small, slight—too slight—and very fair. She was a true Parisian doll: clever, spoiled, elegant, coquettish, witty20, with more charm than real beauty. He used to say familiarly to his brother, when speaking of her:
“My wife is charming, attractive, but—there is nothing to lay hold of. She is like a glass of champagne21 that is all froth; when you get to the wine it is very good, but there is too little of it, unfortunately.”
He walked up and down the room in great agitation22, thinking of a thousand things. At one moment he was furious, and felt inclined to give the marquis a good thrashing, or to slap his face publicly, in the club. But he decided23 that would not do, it would not be good form; he would be laughed at, and not his rival, and this thought wounded his vanity. So he went to bed, but could not sleep. Paris knew in a few days that the Baron and Baroness d'Etraille had agreed to an amicable24 separation on account of incompatibility25 of temper. No one suspected anything, no one laughed, and no one was astonished.
The baron, however, to avoid meeting his wife, travelled for a year, then spent the summer at the seaside, and the autumn in shooting, returning to Paris for the winter. He did not meet the baroness once.
He did not even know what people said about her. In any case, she took care to respect appearances, and that was all he asked for.
He became dreadfully bored, travelled again, restored his old castle of Villebosc, which took him two years; then for over a year he entertained friends there, till at last, tired of all these so-called pleasures, he returned to his mansion26 in the Rue19 de Lille, just six years after the separation.
He was now forty-five, with a good crop of gray hair, rather stout27, and with that melancholy28 look characteristic of those who have been handsome, sought after, and liked, but who are deteriorating29, daily.
A month after his return to Paris, he took cold on coming out of his club, and had such a bad cough that his medical man ordered him to Nice for the rest of the winter.
He reached the station only a few minutes before the departure of the train on Monday evening, and had barely time to get into a carriage, with only one other occupant, who was sitting in a corner so wrapped in furs and cloaks that he could not even make out whether it was a man or a woman, as nothing of the figure could be seen. When he perceived that he could not find out, he put on his travelling cap, rolled himself up in his rugs, and stretched out comfortably to sleep.
He did not wake until the day was breaking, and looked at once at his fellow-traveller, who had not stirred all night, and seemed still to be sound asleep.
M. d'Etraille made use of the opportunity to brush his hair and his beard, and to try to freshen himself up a little generally, for a night's travel does not improve one's appearance when one has attained30 a certain age.
A great poet has said:
“When we are young, our mornings are triumphant31!”
As one grows older one wakes up in a very different condition. Dull eyes, red, swollen33 cheeks, dry lips, hair and beard disarranged, impart an old, fatigued34, worn-out look to the face.
The baron opened his travelling case, and improved his looks as much as possible.
The engine whistled, the train stopped, and his neighbor moved. No doubt he was awake. They started off again, and then a slanting35 ray of sunlight shone into the carriage and on the sleeper36, who moved again, shook himself, and then his face could be seen.
It was a young, fair, pretty, plump woman, and the baron looked at her in amazement37. He did not know what to think. He could really have sworn that it was his wife, but wonderfully changed for the better: stouter38 —why she had grown as stout as he was, only it suited her much better than it did him.
She looked at him calmly, did not seem to recognize him, and then slowly laid aside her wraps. She had that quiet assurance of a woman who is sure of herself, who feels that on awaking she is in her full beauty and freshness.
The baron was really bewildered. Was it his wife, or else as like her as any sister could be? Not having seen her for six years, he might be mistaken.
She yawned, and this gesture betrayed her. She turned and looked at him again, calmly, indifferently, as if she scarcely saw him, and then looked out of the window again.
Yes; it was surely his wife. How could he possibly have doubted it? There could certainly not be two noses like that, and a thousand recollections flashed through his mind. He felt the old feeling of the intoxication40 of love stealing over him, and he called to mind the sweet odor of her skin, her smile when she put her arms on to his shoulders, the soft intonations41 of her voice, all her graceful42, coaxing43 ways.
But how she had changed and improved! It was she and yet not she. She seemed riper, more developed, more of a woman, more seductive, more desirable, adorably desirable.
And this strange, unknown woman, whom he had accidentally met in a railway carriage, belonged to him; he had only to say to her:
“I insist upon it.”
He had formerly44 slept in her arms, existed only in her love, and now he had found her again certainly, but so changed that he scarcely knew her. It was another, and yet it was she herself. It was some one who had been born and had formed and grown since he had left her. It was she, indeed; she whom he had loved, but who was now altered, with a more assured smile and greater self-possession. There were two women in one, mingling45 a great part of what was new and unknown with many sweet recollections of the past. There was something singular, disturbing, exciting about it —a kind of mystery of love in which there floated a delicious confusion. It was his wife in a new body and in new flesh which lips had never pressed.
And he thought that in a few years nearly every thing changes in us; only the outline can be recognized, and sometimes even that disappears.
The blood, the hair, the skin, all changes and is renewed, and when people have not seen each other for a long time, when they meet they find each other totally different beings, although they are the same and bear the same name.
And the heart also can change. Ideas may be modified and renewed, so that in forty years of life we may, by gradual and constant transformations46, become four or five totally new and different beings.
He dwelt on this thought till it troubled him; it had first taken possession of him when he surprised her in the princess' room. He was not the least angry; it was not the same woman that he was looking at —that thin, excitable little doll of those days.
What was he to do? How should he address her? and what could he say to her? Had she recognized him?
The train stopped again. He got up, bowed, and said: “Bertha, do you want anything I could bring you?”
She looked at him from head to foot, and answered, without showing the slightest surprise, or confusion, or anger, but with the most perfect indifference47:
“I do not want anything—-thank you.”
He got out and walked up and down the platform a little in order to recover himself, and, as it were, to recover his senses after a fall. What should he do now? If he got into another carriage it would look as if he were running away. Should he be polite or importunate48? That would look as if he were asking for forgiveness. Should he speak as if he were her master? He would look like a fool, and, besides, he really had no right to do so.
He got in again and took his place.
During his absence she had hastily arranged her dress and hair, and was now lying stretched out on the seat, radiant, and without showing any emotion.
He turned to her, and said: “My dear Bertha, since this singular chance has brought up together after a separation of six years—a quite friendly separation—are we to continue to look upon each other as irreconcilable49 enemies? We are shut up together, tete-a-tete, which is so much the better or so much the worse. I am not going to get into another carriage, so don't you think it is preferable to talk as friends till the end of our journey?”
She answered, quite calmly again:
“Just as you please.”
Then he suddenly stopped, really not knowing what to say; but as he had plenty of assurance, he sat down on the middle seat, and said:
“Well, I see I must pay my court to you; so much the better. It is, however, really a pleasure, for you are charming. You cannot imagine how you have improved in the last six years. I do not know any woman who could give me that delightful50 sensation which I experienced just now when you emerged from your wraps. I really could not have thought such a change possible.”
Without moving her head or looking at him, she said: “I cannot say the same with regard to you; you have certainly deteriorated51 a great deal.”
He got red and confused, and then, with a smile of resignation, he said:
“You are rather hard.”
“Why?” was her reply. “I am only stating facts. I don't suppose you intend to offer me your love? It must, therefore, be a matter of perfect indifference to you what I think about you. But I see it is a painful subject, so let us talk of something else. What have you been doing since I last saw you?”
“I? I have travelled, done some shooting, and grown old, as you see. And you?”
She said, quite calmly: “I have taken care of appearances, as you ordered me.”
“And I thank you,” he said.
She was surprised. He was indeed diplomatic, and always master of himself.
She made a little movement of surprise.
“Bitterness? I don't feel any; you are a complete stranger to me; I am only trying to keep up a difficult conversation.”
He was still looking at her, fascinated in spite of her harshness, and he felt seized with a brutal Beside, the desire of the master.
Perceiving that she had hurt his feelings, she said:
“How old are you now? I thought you were younger than you look.”
“I am forty-five”; and then he added: “I forgot to ask after Princesse de Raynes. Are you still intimate with her?”
She looked at him as if she hated him:
“Yes, I certainly am. She is very well, thank you.”
“My dear Bertha, I have changed my mind. You are my wife, and I expect you to come with me to-day. You have, I think, improved both morally and physically57, and I am going to take you back again. I am your husband, and it is my right to do so.”
She was stupefied, and looked at him, trying to divine his thoughts; but his face was resolute58 and impenetrable.
“I am very sorry,” she said, “but I have made other engagements.”
“So much the worse for you,” was his reply. “The law gives me the power, and I mean to use it.”
They were nearing Marseilles, and the train whistled and slackened speed. The baroness rose, carefully rolled up her wraps, and then, turning to her husband, said:
“My dear Raymond, do not make a bad use of this tete-a tete which I had carefully prepared. I wished to take precautions, according to your advice, so that I might have nothing to fear from you or from other people, whatever might happen. You are going to Nice, are you not?”
“I shall go wherever you go.”
“Not at all; just listen to me, and I am sure that you will leave me in peace. In a few moments, when we get to the station, you will see the Princesse de Raynes and Comtesse Henriot waiting for me with their husbands. I wished them to see as, and to know that we had spent the night together in the railway carriage. Don't be alarmed; they will tell it everywhere as a most surprising fact.
“I told you just now that I had most carefully followed your advice and saved appearances. Anything else does not matter, does it? Well, in order to do so, I wished to be seen with you. You told me carefully to avoid any scandal, and I am avoiding it, for, I am afraid—I am afraid—”
She waited till the train had quite stopped, and as her friends ran up to open the carriage door, she said:
“I am afraid”—hesitating—“that there is another reason—je suis enceinte.”
The princess stretched out her arms to embrace her,—and the baroness said, painting to the baron, who was dumb with astonishment59, and was trying to get at the truth:
“You do not recognize Raymond? He has certainly changed a good deal, and he agreed to come with me so that I might not travel alone. We take little trips like this occasionally, like good friends who cannot live together. We are going to separate here; he has had enough of me already.”
She put out her hand, which he took mechanically, and then she jumped out on to the platform among her friends, who were waiting for her.
The baron hastily shut the carriage door, for he was too much disturbed to say a word or come to any determination. He heard his wife's voice and their merry laughter as they went away.
He never saw her again, nor did he ever discover whether she had told him a lie or was speaking the truth.
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1
parlors
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| 客厅( parlor的名词复数 )； 起居室； （旅馆中的）休息室； （通常用来构成合成词）店 | |
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baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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doze
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| v.打瞌睡；n.打盹，假寐 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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7
accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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dedicated
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| adj.一心一意的；献身的；热诚的 | |
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10
phantoms
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| n.鬼怪，幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
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11
evoked
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| [医]诱发的 | |
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12
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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13
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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14
baroness
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| n.男爵夫人，女男爵 | |
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15
ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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16
inflexible
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| adj.不可改变的，不受影响的，不屈服的 | |
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17
ardor
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| n.热情，狂热 | |
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18
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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19
rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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20
witty
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| adj.机智的，风趣的 | |
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21
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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23
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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24
amicable
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| adj.和平的，友好的；友善的 | |
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incompatibility
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| n.不兼容 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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deteriorating
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| 恶化，变坏( deteriorate的现在分词 ) | |
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30
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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31
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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35
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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stouter
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| 粗壮的( stout的比较级 )； 结实的； 坚固的； 坚定的 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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40
intoxication
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| n.wild excitement;drunkenness；poisoning | |
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41
intonations
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| n.语调，说话的抑扬顿挫( intonation的名词复数 )；（演奏或唱歌中的）音准 | |
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42
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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43
coaxing
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的现在分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱；“锻炼”效应 | |
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44
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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46
transformations
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| n.变化( transformation的名词复数 )；转换；转换；变换 | |
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47
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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48
importunate
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| adj.强求的；纠缠不休的 | |
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49
irreconcilable
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| adj.（指人）难和解的，势不两立的 | |
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50
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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51
deteriorated
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| 恶化，变坏( deteriorate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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53
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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54
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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55
acceded
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| v.（正式）加入( accede的过去式和过去分词 )；答应；（通过财产的添附而）增加；开始任职 | |
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56
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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57
physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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58
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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59
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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