The Chateau1 de Courtornieu is, next to Sairmeuse, the most magnificent habitation in the arrondissement of Montaignac.
The approach to the castle was by a long and narrow road, badly paved. When the carriage containing Martial2 and his father turned from the public highway into this rough road, the jolting3 aroused the duke from the profound revery into which he had fallen on leaving Sairmeuse.
The marquis thought that he had caused this unusual fit of abstraction.
“It is the result of my adroit4 manoeuvre,” he said to himself, not without secret satisfaction. “Until the restitution5 of Sairmeuse is legalized, I can make my father do anything I wish; yes, anything. And if it is necessary, he will even invite Lacheneur and Marie-Anne to his table.”
He was mistaken. The duke had already forgotten the affair; his most vivid impressions lasted no longer than an indentation in the sand.
He lowered the glass in front of the carriage, and, after ordering the coachman to drive more slowly:
“Now,” said he to his son, “let us talk a little. Are you really in love with that little Lacheneur?”
Martial could not repress a start. “Oh! in love,” said he, lightly, “that would perhaps be saying too much. Let me say that she has taken my fancy; that will be sufficient.”
The duke regarded his son with a bantering6 air.
“Really, you delight me!” he exclaimed. “I feared that this love-affair might derange7, at least for the moment, certain plans that I have formed — for I have formed certain plans for you.”
“The devil!”
“Yes, I have my plans, and I will communicate them to you later in detail. I will content myself today by recommending you to examine Mademoiselle Blanche de Courtornieu.”
Martial made no reply. This recommendation was entirely8 unnecessary. If Mlle. Lacheneur had made him forget Mlle. de Courtornieu that morning for some moments, the remembrance of Marie-Anne was now effaced9 by the radiant image of Blanche.
“Before discussing the daughter,” resumed the duke, “let us speak of the father. He is one of my strongest friends; and I know him thoroughly10. You have heard men reproach me for what they style my prejudices, have you not? Well, in comparison with the Marquis de Courtornieu, I am only a Jacobin.”
“Oh! my father!”
“Really, nothing could be more true. If I am behind the age in which I live, he belongs to the reign11 of Louis XIV. Only — for there is an only — the principles which I openly avow12, he keeps locked up in his snuff-box — and trust him for not forgetting to open it at the opportune13 moment. He has suffered cruelly for his opinions, in the sense of having so often been obliged to conceal14 them. He concealed15 them, first, under the consulate16, when he returned from exile. He dissimulated18 them even more courageously19 under the Empire — for he played the part of a kind of chamberlain to Bonaparte, this dear marquis. But, chut! do not remind him of that proof of heroism21; he has deplored22 it bitterly since the battle of Lutzen.”
This was the tone in which M. de Sairmeuse was accustomed to speak of his best friends.
“The history of his fortune,” he continued, “is the history of his marriages — I say marriages, because he has married a number of times, and always advantageously. Yes, in a period of fifteen years he has had the misfortune of losing three wives, each richer than the other. His daughter is the child of his third and last wife, a Cisse Blossac — she died in 1809. He comforted himself after each bereavement23 by purchasing a quantity of lands or bonds. So that now he is as rich as you are, Marquis, and his influence is powerful and widespread. I forgot one detail, however, he believes, they tell me, in the growing power of the clergy24, and has become very devout25.”
He checked himself; the carriage had stopped before the entrance of the Chateau de Courtornieu, and the marquis came forward to receive his guests in person. A nattering distinction, which he seldom lavished26 upon his visitors. The marquis was long rather than tall, and very solemn in deportment. The head that surmounted27 his angular form was remarkably28 small, a characteristic of his race, and covered with thin, glossy29 black hair, and lighted by cold, round black eyes.
The pride that becomes a gentleman, and the humility30 that befits a Christian31, were continually at war with each other in his countenance32.
He pressed the hands of M. de Sairmeuse and Martial, overwhelming them with compliments uttered in a thin, rather nasal voice, which, issuing from his immense body, was as astonishing as the sound of a flute33 issuing from the pipes of an orphicleide would be.
“At last you have come,” he said; “we were waiting for you before beginning our deliberations upon a very grave, and also very delicate matter. We are thinking of addressing a petition to His Majesty34. The nobility, who have suffered so much during the Revolution, have a right to expect ample compensation. Our neighbors, to the number of sixteen, are now assembled in my cabinet, transformed for the time into a council chamber20.”
Martial shuddered35 at the thought of all the ridiculous and tiresome36 conversation he would probably be obliged to hear; and his father’s recommendation occurred to him.
“Shall we not have the honor of paying our respects to Mademoiselle de Courtornieu?”
“My daughter must be in the drawing-room with our cousin,” replied the marquis, in an indifferent tone; “at least, if she is not in the garden.”
This might be construed37 into, “Go and look for her if you choose.” At least Martial understood it in that way; and when they entered the hall, he allowed his father and the marquis to go upstairs without him.
A servant opened the door of the drawing-room for him — but it was empty.
“Very well,” said he; “I know my way to the garden.”
But he explored it in vain; no one was to be found.
He decided38 to return to the house and march bravely into the presence of the dreaded39 enemy. He had turned to retrace40 his steps when, through the foliage41 of a bower42 of jasmine, he thought he could distinguish a white dress.
He advanced softly, and his heart quickened its throbbing43 when he saw that he was right.
Mlle. Blanche de Courtornieu was seated on a bench beside an old lady, and was engaged in reading a letter in a low voice.
She must have been greatly preoccupied44, since she had not heard Martial’s footsteps approaching.
He was only ten paces from her, so near that he could distinguish the shadow of her long eyelashes. He paused, holding his breath, in a delicious ecstasy46.
“Ah! how beautiful she is!” he thought. Beautiful? no. But pretty, yes; as pretty as heart could desire, with her great velvety47 blue eyes and her pouting48 lips. She was a blonde, but one of those dazzling and radiant blondes found only in the countries of the sun; and from her hair, drawn49 high upon the top of her head, escaped a profusion50 of ravishing, glittering ringlets, which seemed almost to sparkle in the play of the light breeze.
One might, perhaps, have wished her a trifle larger. But she had the winning charm of all delicate and mignonnes women; and her figure was of exquisite51 roundness, and her dimpled hands were those of an infant.
Alas52! these attractive exteriors53 are often deceitful, as much and even more so, than the appearances of a man like the Marquis de Courtornieu.
The apparently54 innocent and artless young girl possessed55 the parched56, hollow soul of an experienced woman of the world, or of an old courtier. She had been so petted at the convent, in the capacity of only daughter of a grand seigneur and millionnaire; she had been surrounded by so much adulation, that all her good qualities had been blighted57 in the bud by the poisonous breath of flattery.
She was only nineteen; and still it was impossible for any person to have been more susceptible58 to the charms of wealth and of satisfied ambition. She dreamed of a position at court as a school-girl dreams of a lover.
If she had deigned59 to notice Martial — for she had remarked him — it was only because her father had told her that this young man would lift his wife to the highest sphere of power. Thereupon she had uttered a “very well, we will see!” that would have changed an enamoured suitor’s love into disgust.
Martial advanced a few steps, and Mlle. Blanche, on seeing him, sprang up with a pretty affectation of intense timidity.
Bowing low before her, he said, gently, and with profound deference60:
“Monsieur de Courtornieu, Mademoiselle, was so kind as to tell me where I might have the honor of finding you. I had not courage to brave those formidable discussions inside; but ——”
He pointed61 to the letter the young girl held in her hand, and added:
“But I fear that I am de trap.”
“Oh! not in the least, Monsieur le Marquis, although this letter which I have just been reading has, I confess, interested me deeply. It was written by a poor child in whom I have taken a great interest — whom I have sent for sometimes when I was lonely — Marie-Anne Lacheneur.”
Accustomed from his infancy62 to the hypocrisy63 of drawing-rooms, the young marquis had taught his face not to betray his feelings.
He could have laughed gayly with anguish64 at his heart; he could have preserved the sternest gravity when inwardly convulsed with merriment.
And yet, this name of Marie-Anne upon the lips of Mlle. de Courtornieu, caused his glance to waver.
“They know each other!” he thought.
In an instant he was himself again; but Mlle. Blanche had perceived his momentary65 agitation66.
“What can it mean?” she wondered, much disturbed.
Still, it was with the perfect assumption of innocence67 that she continued:
“In fact, you must have seen her, this poor Marie-Anne, Monsieur le Marquis, since her father was the guardian68 of Sairmeuse?”
“Yes, I have seen her, Mademoiselle,” replied Martial, quietly.
“Is she not remarkably beautiful? Her beauty is of an unusual type, it quite takes one by surprise.”
A fool would have protested. The marquis was not guilty of this folly69.
“Yes, she is very beautiful,” said he.
This apparent frankness disconcerted Mlle. Blanche a trifle; and it was with an air of hypocritical compassion70 that she murmured:
“Poor girl! What will become of her? Here is her father, reduced to delving71 in the ground.”
“Oh! you exaggerate, Mademoiselle; my father will always preserve Lacheneur from anything of that kind.”
“Of course — I might have known that — but where will he find a husband for Marie-Anne?”
“One has been found already. I understand that she is to marry a youth in the neighborhood, who has some property — a certain Chanlouineau.”
The artless school-girl was more cunning than the marquis. She had satisfied herself that she had just grounds for her suspicions; and she experienced a certain anger on finding him so well informed in regard to everything that concerned Mlle. Lacheneur.
“And do you believe that this is the husband of whom she had dreamed? Ah, well! God grant that she may be happy; for we were very fond of her, very — were we not, Aunt Medea?”
Aunt Medea was the old lady seated beside Mlle. Blanche.
“Yes, very,” she replied.
This aunt, or cousin, rather, was a poor relation whom M. de Courtornieu had sheltered, and who was forced to pay dearly for her bread; since Mlle. Blanche compelled her to play the part of echo.
“It grieves me to see these friendly relations, which were so dear to me, broken,” resumed Mlle. de Courtornieu. “But listen to what Marie-Anne has written.”
She drew from her belt where she had placed it, Mlle. Lacheneur’s letter and read:
“‘My dear blanche — You know that the Duc de Sairmeuse has returned.
The news fell upon us like a thunder-bolt. My father and I had
become too much accustomed to regard as our own the deposit which
had been intrusted to our fidelity72; we have been punished for it.
At least, we have done our duty, and now all is ended. She whom
you have called your friend, will be, hereafter, only a poor
peasant girl, as her mother was before her.’”
The most subtle observer would have supposed that Mlle. Blanche was experiencing the keenest emotion. One would have sworn that it was only by intense effort that she succeeded in restraining her tears — that they were even trembling behind her long lashes45.
The truth was, that she was thinking only of discovering, upon Martial’s face, some indication of his feelings. But now that he was on guard, his features might have been marble for any sign of emotion they betrayed. So she continued:
“‘I should utter an untruth if I said that I have not suffered on
account of this sudden change. But I have courage; I shall learn
how to submit. I shall, I hope, have strength to forget, for I
must forget! The remembrances of past felicity would render my
present misery73 intolerable.’”
Mlle. de Courtornieu suddenly folded up the letter.
“You have heard it, Monsieur,” said she. “Can you understand such pride as that? And they accuse us, daughters of the nobility, of being proud!”
Martial made no response. He felt that his altered voice would betray him. How much more would he have been moved, if he had been allowed to read the concluding lines:
“One must live, my dear Blanche!” added Marie-Anne, “and I feel no
false shame in asking you to aid me. I sew very nicely, as you
know, and I could earn my livelihood74 by embroidery75 if I knew more
people. I will call to-day at Courtornieu to ask you to give me a
list of ladies to whom I can present myself on your
recommendation.”
But Mlle. de Courtornieu had taken good care not to allude76 to the touching77 request. She had read the letter to Martial as a test. She had not succeeded; so much the worse. She rose and accepted his arm to return to the house.
She seemed to have forgotten her friend, and she was chatting gayly. When they approached the chateau, she was interrupted by a sound of voices raised to the highest pitch.
It was the address to the King which was agitating78 the council convened79 in M. de Courtornieu’s cabinet.
Mlle. Blanche paused.
“I am trespassing80 upon your kindness, Monsieur. I am boring you with my silly chat when you should undoubtedly81 be up there.”
“Certainly not,” he replied, laughing. “What should I do there? The role of men of action does not begin until the orators82 have concluded.”
He spoke83 so energetically, in spite of his jesting tone, that Mlle. de Courtornieu was fascinated. She saw before her, she believed, a man who, as her father had said, would rise to the highest position in the political world.
Unfortunately, her admiration84 was disturbed by a ring of the great bell that always announces visitors.
She trembled, let go her hold on Martial’s arm, and said, very earnestly:
“Ah, no matter. I wish very much to know what is going on up there. If I ask my father, he will laugh at my curiosity, while you, Monsieur, if you are present at the conference, you will tell me all.”
A wish thus expressed was a command. The marquis bowed and obeyed.
“She dismisses me,” he said to himself as he ascended85 the staircase, “nothing could be more evident; and that without much ceremony. Why the devil does she wish to get rid of me?”
Why? Because a single peal86 of the bell announced a visitor for Mlle. Blanche; because she was expecting a visit from her friend; and because she wished at any cost to prevent a meeting between Martial and Marie-Anne.
She did not love him, and yet an agony of jealousy87 was torturing her. Such was her nature.
Her presentiments88 were realized. It was, indeed, Mlle. Lacheneur who was awaiting her in the drawing-room.
The poor girl was paler than usual; but nothing in her manner betrayed the frightful89 anguish she had suffered during the past two or three days.
And her voice, in asking from her former friend a list of “customers,” was as calm and as natural as in other days, when she was asking her to come and spend an afternoon at Sairmeuse.
So, when the two girls embraced each other, their roles were reversed.
It was Marie-Anne who had been crushed by misfortune; it was Mlle. Blanche who wept.
But, while writing a list of the names of persons in the neighborhood with whom she was acquainted, Mlle. de Courtornieu did not neglect this favorable opportunity for verifying the suspicions which had been aroused by Martial’s momentary agitation.
“It is inconceivable,” she remarked to her friend, “that the Duc de Sairmeuse should allow you to be reduced to such an extremity90.”
Marie-Anne’s nature was so royal, that she did not wish an unjust accusation91 to rest even upon the man who had treated her father so cruelly.
“The duke is not to blame,” she replied, gently; “he offered us a very considerable sum, this morning, through his son.”
Mlle. Blanche started as if a viper92 had stung her.
“So you have seen the marquis, Marie-Anne?”
“Yes.”
“Has he been to your house?”
“He was going there, when he met me in the grove93 on the waste.”
She blushed as she spoke; she turned crimson94 at the thought of Martial’s impertinent gallantry.
This girl who had just emerged from a convent was terribly experienced; but she misunderstood the cause of Marie-Anne’s confusion. She could dissimulate17, however, and when Marie-Anne went away, Mlle. Blanche embraced her with every sign of the most ardent95 affection. But she was almost suffocated96 with rage.
“What!” she thought; “they have met but once, and yet they are so strongly impressed with each other. Do they love each other already?”
收听单词发音 |
1
chateau
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| n.城堡，别墅 | |
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martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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jolting
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| adj.令人震惊的 | |
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adroit
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| adj.熟练的，灵巧的 | |
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restitution
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| n.赔偿；恢复原状 | |
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bantering
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| adj.嘲弄的v.开玩笑，说笑，逗乐( banter的现在分词 )；（善意地）取笑，逗弄 | |
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derange
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| v.使精神错乱 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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effaced
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| v.擦掉( efface的过去式和过去分词 )；抹去；超越；使黯然失色 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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avow
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| v.承认，公开宣称 | |
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opportune
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| adj.合适的，适当的 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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consulate
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| n.领事馆 | |
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dissimulate
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| v.掩饰，隐藏 | |
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dissimulated
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| v.掩饰（感情），假装（镇静）( dissimulate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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courageously
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| ad.勇敢地，无畏地 | |
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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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heroism
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| n.大无畏精神，英勇 | |
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deplored
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| v.悲叹，痛惜，强烈反对( deplore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bereavement
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| n.亲人丧亡，丧失亲人，丧亲之痛 | |
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clergy
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| n.[总称]牧师，神职人员 | |
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devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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lavished
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| v.过分给予，滥施( lavish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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31
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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flute
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| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
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majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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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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tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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construed
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| v.解释（陈述、行为等）( construe的过去式和过去分词 )；翻译，作句法分析 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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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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retrace
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| v.折回；追溯，探源 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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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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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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velvety
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| adj. 像天鹅绒的, 轻软光滑的, 柔软的 | |
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pouting
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的现在分词 ) | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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profusion
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| n.挥霍；丰富 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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exteriors
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| n.外面( exterior的名词复数 )；外貌；户外景色图 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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blighted
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| adj.枯萎的，摧毁的 | |
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susceptible
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| adj.过敏的，敏感的；易动感情的，易受感动的 | |
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deigned
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| v.屈尊，俯就( deign的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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delving
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| v.深入探究，钻研( delve的现在分词 ) | |
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fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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livelihood
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| n.生计，谋生之道 | |
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embroidery
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| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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allude
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| v.提及，暗指 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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agitating
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| 搅动( agitate的现在分词 )； 激怒； 使焦虑不安； （尤指为法律、社会状况的改变而）激烈争论 | |
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convened
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| 召开( convene的过去式 )； 召集； （为正式会议而）聚集； 集合 | |
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trespassing
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| [法]非法入侵 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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orators
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| n.演说者，演讲家( orator的名词复数 ) | |
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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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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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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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peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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presentiments
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| n.（对不祥事物的）预感( presentiment的名词复数 ) | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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viper
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| n.毒蛇；危险的人 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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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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ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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suffocated
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| （使某人）窒息而死( suffocate的过去式和过去分词 )； （将某人）闷死； 让人感觉闷热； 憋气 | |
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