‘And that is, Monsieur———?’
‘To wear to-night the satin dress and the pearl ornaments1 which I gave to you three weeks ago.’
Belleisle was standing2 before his wife, buttoning the kid gloves which reached almost to her elbow; for she was ready to take her usual morning drive with Madame de Fontenay. The girl allowed him to finish his task, then she spoke3.
‘Why is it you wish me to wear that dress, Monsieur?’
‘Because, chérie, we shall have a new guest.’
‘Indeed?’
‘A young French nobleman—whom, if we wish to stand well in society, it is our interest to fascinate.’
‘To fascinate!’
The ejaculation made Belleisle look sharply into his wife’s face. He was by no means pleased by what he saw there. He opened his lips to speak, but was prevented by the entrance of Madame de Fontenay.
The widow, dressed as usual in rich widow’s mourning, came quickly into the room, and took Madeline’s gloved hand in hers.
‘A thousand apologies for having kept you waiting,’ she said. ‘Come, my child—Emile, be good enough to see us to the carriage, which has already waited some minutes at the door.’
Belleisle, obedient to the command, conducted the ladies down the oak staircase of the hotel, handed them into the carriage which waited to receive them, and stood bare-headed at the door to see it roll away. He smiled, waved his hand and kissed the tips of his fingers—but Madeline, to whom these blandishments were cast, had already sunk back into the carriage, and relapsed into a gloomy dream.
She had a good deal to think about—much to try and explain to herself—and she had chosen this time as the best for what she had to do.
They had been located in Paris for three months now, and during that time she had led a life which puzzled even herself. Gentle and confiding4, guided wholly by her husband and his accomplice5, she had carried out their wishes in every respect. She had dressed herself in the fine dresses which were brought to her—driven about in a carriage by the side of her soi-disant mother, and behaved as she had been taught to the guests whom she met at her husband’s table.
It was the behaviour of these guests which troubled her and first set her speculating as to the kind of life into which she had unwittingly been led. She was not astonished that they should court her favours, for when she announced herself single she laid herself open to the admiration6 of single men—what astonished her was that after these gentlemen had ceased to grace with their presence the hospitable7 board of the Vicomte de Belleisle, they would acknowledge with a stony8 stare the graceful9 salute10 of the widow if she happened to meet them during any of her daily drives about the city.
It was curious, Madeline thought, and on the impulse of the moment she mentioned the fact to her husband and Madame. They looked significantly towards each other, gave some slight explanation, and turned the conversation to other things.
But Madeline was not satisfied; she had noted11 the look which had passed between the pair, and it made her more curious than she had been before. What could it mean? There was some dark mystery about their life which she must discover, ere it led her into serious harm.
But how to discover it? After long pondering she resolved to pick out from the innumerable guests who frequented her husband’s table some man to whom she could speak freely, and to question him.
The resolve made, she endeavoured to carry it out. Every night when, attired12 in clinging satin or velvet13, she entered the luxurious14 dining-room by Madame de Fontenay’s side, her eye travelled from one place to another, timidly looking for sympathy which never came. Although the guests would flatter and flirt15 with her, there was not one among them whom she felt she could really trust.
So the days and weeks wore on, hopelessly, sadly, despite the glitter and gaudy16 show. Hope died within her heart; but suddenly it was revived.
‘Madeline, dearest, you did not tell me this morning whether or not you would do me the favour I asked of you?’ said Belleisle again that day after her drive was over.
Madeline looked at him quietly.
‘You wish me to look well to-night?’
‘My charming little one, you do always look well,’ retorted the polite Frenchman. ‘I wish you to look second to no lady in Paris.’
‘Very well, Monsieur. I will try.’
A new guest to dress for; some new flatteries to listen to. The announcement was not novel, and yet Madeline felt that night as she had never felt before. She had a pleasure in dressing17, a delight in watching herself grow more beautiful under the busy hands of her maid, and, when at length her toilet was complete, she sat with beating heart and heightened colour, as if awaiting the consummation of some great event.
She entered the dining-room, as she had done hundreds of times before, by Madame de Fontenay’s side. She bowed, and shook hands with all she knew, and then was introduced to the stranger.
‘Monsieur le Marquis de Vaux—Mademoiselle de Fontenay.’
Madeline inclined her head for a moment, then raising her eyes she saw that she was receiving a low bow and a deep blush from the stranger.
A tall fair young fellow, of some two- or three-and-twenty, looking more like an English lad than a French Marquis. Perhaps it was this English look which touched Madeline’s heart and made her feel that glow of sympathy which she had waited for so long and thought would never come.
How the dinner passed off that night Madeline never knew. She sat as one in a dream, eating little, listening to the busy hum of conversation about her, and ever conscious that a pair of feeble blue eyes were fixed18 upon her face.
Dinner over, Madame de Fontenay rose, and Madeline, taking the hint, followed her from the room. She did not see any of the gentlemen again that night, and the widow did not leave her until it was time to retire to rest.
Several days passed. Every day she met the Marquis at dinner, and each time she met him his manner seemed to change. Whenever he shook hands he gave her fingers a slight pressure; sometimes his eyes, after diligently19 trying to meet hers, would fix upon her face a look full of strange inquiry20, which she, not comprehending, could not reply to. Ere long his easy freshness wore off—his manner grew nervous and changeful, his cheeks pale and haggard; he seemed to become the slave of Belleisle, and at times glanced with almost terror-stricken eyes at Madeline.
What could it all mean? Every day Madeline grew more troubled, more sick at heart.
She had resolved to elicit21 an explanation from the nobleman, but she soon found that to be impossible. Now that she watched for an opportunity she saw that she had none. Although apparently22 a free agent, she was, in reality, a prisoner—guarded and carefully watched either by her husband or Madame de Fontenay. What was to be done? Speak to him she must and would; stratagem23 must be employed—but how?
After long pondering and much thought, Madeline hit upon a plan which she thought might possibly succeed. Having got dressed for dinner one night, she dismissed her maid, and, before the widow could come for her, hurriedly wrote down the following lines:—
Monsieur,—I would like to see you and speak with you alone. Please meet me to-morrow night at nine o’clock in the lobby of the H?tel Bellevue.
Madeline de Fontenay.
That evening when dinner was over and Madeline rose to follow Madame de Fontenay from the room, she deliberately24 shook hands with the Marquis.
‘Good-night, Monsieur,’ she said softly; then her hand was timidly withdrawn25, and the Marquis, with a bow, let his arm drop by his side.
Madeline retired26 early that night; the next morning she went her usual drive with her companion.
The air was bitterly cold, for winter had set in, and Madeline, wrapped in furs, lay back in the carriage with flushed cheeks and feverishly28 sparkling eyes, and inhaled29 the chilly30 air with quick and feverish27 sigh*.
‘God only knows,’ she was thinking, ‘what trouble this evening may bring; a few hours hence and I shall meet the Marquis, and, having met him, what can I say or do? I will throw myself upon his mercy—I will tell him the truth, and, in return, demand it of him.’
To her amazement31 the Marquis did not appear at dinner that night. She saw that Monsieur Belleisle was worried by his absence, and that Madame de Fontenay, too, seemed strangely ill at ease. Dinner was hurried over quickly, and the ladies retired. Having reached the drawing-room, Madeline threw herself into an easy chair and closed her eyes.
‘I have a headache,’ she said, in answer to Madame de Fontenay’s anxious inquiries32. ‘I am feverish to-night, Madame, and I think I shall soon retire.’ And the widow, secretly glad of the opportunity of being alone that evening, kissed the girl on both her cheeks, and soon withdrew.
Madeline was feverish. Now that the time was passing so quickly, the thought of her coming interview weighed upon her; but, having made the appointment, she was bound to keep it, or gravely compromise herself.
She drew aside her window curtain and looked out. It was a fair still night, but growing every hour still colder. She rang for her maid, and with her assistance took off her dinner dress, and clad herself in one of the plainest costumes she possessed33. When she was dressed, ready to depart, she said—
‘Remember, Augustine, my going out to-night is a secret both from my mother and Monsieur Belleisle. If they ask for me, say that I am still unwell, and have retired early to rest.’
Before the girl, who was doubtless in Belleisle’s confidence, could reply or interfere34, Madeline had hurried from the room, and was in the open street.
The place of meeting was only a few minutes distant from the hotel where she was dwelling35; she reached it just as the clock struck nine. As she entered the door she saw a gentleman standing with his back towards her—the only other living being in the great vestibule.
Madeline approached him, questioningly.
‘Monsieur?’
He turned with an exclamation—she recoiled36. The eyes looking so steadily37 into hers belonged to a face which she remembered well. She was face to lace with the young Englishman whom she had met on the night of her elopement from school.
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1
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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2
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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3
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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4
confiding
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| adj.相信人的，易于相信的v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的现在分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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5
accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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6
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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7
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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8
stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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10
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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11
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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12
attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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13
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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14
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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15
flirt
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| v.调情，挑逗，调戏；n.调情者，卖俏者 | |
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16
gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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17
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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18
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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19
diligently
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| ad.industriously;carefully | |
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20
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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elicit
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| v.引出,抽出,引起 | |
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22
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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stratagem
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| n.诡计，计谋 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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25
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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26
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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27
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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inhaled
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| v.吸入( inhale的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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31
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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32
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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33
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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34
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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35
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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36
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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37
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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