Eugénie. By the author of 'Miss Molly' (B. M. Butt)

Front matter

I EUGENIE This day is published, CHRISTMAS ROSES. Tales for Young People. By GERALDINE BUTT, Author of ' Lads and Lasses Contents : DlEUDONNEE. OUR DaVIC. The Time of Roses. From the Nursery Starlight and Lamplight. Window. We Two. Dark Day; Dark Day's. Ih Crown Octavo, Gs. Lately i-ul-lished. Third Edition MISS MOLLY. By BEATRICE MAY BUTT. Crown Octavo, 7s. 6d. EUGENIE BY THE AUTHOR OF 'MISS MOLLY' ' ' Hear this truth : Over the trackless past, somewhere. Lie the lost days of our tropic youth, Only regained by faith and prayer, Only recalled by prayer and plaint. But each lost day had its patron saint. WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS EDINBURGH AND LONDON MDCCCLXXVII All Rights reserved EUGENIE CHAPTEE I. "But, 0, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes ! " — As You Like it.

Eveey house, every old house more especially, if it could but speak and tell it forth to the world, has, I suppose, some romance woven into the bricks and mortar whereof it is built, out of the lives of those who once inhabited it ; some story that, if we only knew it, would move us to tears or laughter with its record of days gone by. But, alas ! sooner or later the buildings that surround us fall into ruins, and the very remembrance of them does not endure much longer than that of those human occupants who once were their light and life, and they take with them in their fall the secrets of their joy and A EUGENIE. 2 sorrow ; and so in time the memory of them passes away. And even as I write rises up before me the vision of a certain house in an old town of France, a house which has always had for me a charm that no other has ever possessed.

In the older part of the town of Tourville is a long narrow street, composed principally of small shops, and buildings let out in flats ; but at the corner where the Eue de la Eiviere runs into the Eue Jean Jacques, there stands a house which is totally out of keeping with its surroundings. Walking down the Eue de la Eiviere, on the same side of the road as that on which the building stands, you would notice nothing strange, saving that when you had passed Madame Viot's, the last shop in the street, you would see that before reach ing the corner there is a long dead wall, which wall reaches up as high as the second storey of the surrounding houses ; but if curiosity should tempt you to cross the road, you would then see that on the top of the wall there is, as it were, a platform which stretches far back, until it meets a sub stantial, old-fashioned house : the platform itself is laid out as a garden, and boasts of its laburnum and lilac and magnolia trees, which brighten up the EUGENIE. 3 dreary neighbourhood in early spring, and serve as a shield during all the summer months between the dwellers in the old house and the curious passers-by.

Chapter II

" When the sea was calm, all boats alike showed mastership in floating. ' '—Coriolanus. The long, hot day has come to an end at last ; and the two sisters, seated on a bench at the far end of the garden, from whence there is a view of the road and the passers-by, are enjoying the pleasant breeze that has arisen with sunset : Eugenie, list lessly leaning against the lilac-tree, with hands crossed idly in her lap ; and Antoinette working, but not very industriously, at some knitting, which is rarely absent from between her busy fingers. " What are you thinking of ? " at last questioned the blind girl, stretching out her hand, and laying it on her sister's. " You have been so long silent, that I would give something to know your thoughts." "You may have them willingly. I was only EUGENIE. 19 thinking about the mother's letter this morning, and wondering if the Count von Edelberg will be pleasant."

Are you glad he is coming, Eugenie? But of course you are." "Oh yes, of course I am glad. It will be a change — and if he is at all nice, a very pleasant change ; although I am afraid the beginning of the visit at any rate will be dull enough, as I know only about ten words of German. Let us hope he understands French." " Most probably he does," replied her sister, reas suringly ; " and if not," she added, smiling, " I daresay he will be delighted to teach you German." Eugenie laughed. " Here is Marie ; I will see what she has to say on the subject. Come over here, Marie," she called. And an old woman, who was standing in the door way to enjoy, like her mistresses, a breath of cool air after the great heat of the day, hearing her name called, came towards them. " What is it, my children ? " " Sit down here, Marie, on the grass, and tell me," said Eugenie, " have you heard of the visitor who is coming to us ?

" EUGENIE. " A German gentleman, is it not ? " questioned Marie. "Yes, a Prussian. His mother and mine were great friends once, and she writes this morning to say, that her son is taking a tour through France, and she hopes he may come to Tourville ; and my mother has written and asked him to stay here ; so most likely he will come. Now, Marie, I want to know how you like the idea." " I will not give an opinion," replied Marie, solemnly. " Although I have been twenty-three years servant to your mother, and have nursed you both since you were babies, still I will not give an opinion." " Oh, that is nonsense ! " said Eugenie ; " when I ask you, you must tell me — are you glad or sorry ? " " I am very sorry." " Sorry ! why?" said the blind girl, lifting her head. " The Prussians and the French have been ene mies," Marie rephed.

" My grandfather was killed at Waterloo." Eugenie passed her hand over her mouth to hide the smile that would come. " But that was so lon» O ago," she said, " I am sure that it is time we kissed and made friends." EUGENIE. 21 " That is just what I am afraid of," remarked the old woman, and she nodded her head sagely. " But you should be glad," persisted Eugenie, "when enemies are reconciled." " Ah yes," continued Marie, without heeding the interruption ; " they are no good, those Prussians, and they always make me think of magpies." " Of magpies ! " exclaimed Antoinette, and her face, which in repose was rather sad, beamed with laughter, as she lifted her head for the answer to her question. "Yes, of magpies," repeated Marie, "or rather of a single magpie, which, you know, is always a sign of ill-luck.

But I will tell you how it was ; " and Marie, as she spoke, flapped her apron back wards and forwards to ward off the mosquitoes which were swarming around. " It was, I should not like to say how many years ago, at any rate it was before I went to live with Madame, — before I was married even — and I had been five years a widow when I went to her, — that I was sent out one evening by my mother to fetch some milk, and as I walked up the lane towards the farm I saw hopping along in front of me a single magpie ; ' one for sorrow,' I said to myself, and then I repeated an ave to ward EUGENIE. off the ill that was hanging over me, and by the time that was finished I had arrived at Mere Vaubain's. " Directly I opened the kitchen door, I saw there was a stranger sitting there, and when I went away with Mere Vaubain to get the milk, she told me he was a German who was in some employment in the neighbouring town, and that her son, who was apprenticed to a watchmaker in the same place, had made friends with him, and brought him over to spend the day."

" Did you fall in love with him ? " questioned Eugenie, mischievously. " No, I did not, Mademoiselle, but Julie Vaubain did; and after he had made love to her, and promised to marry her, for I cannot tell you how many months, he one day left them, and returned to Germany, and was heard of no more." " And what became of Julie ? " asked Antoinette, as Marie hesitated in her tale. " She drowned herself." " Poor thing ! " said the blind girl, softly. " Foolish thing, I should have said ! " exclaimed Marie, impatiently ; " fancy killing one's self for a German ! She ought not to have expected any different treatment from a man from that country." EUGENIE. 23 "But Marie," interrupted Eugenie, "it seems scarcely fair, does it, to judge a whole nation by the conduct of one man, who certainly does not seem to have been a very worthy representative of it.

Wait till you have seen our German ; I do hope he will be nice, and convert you to the belief that there is such a thing as a respectable Prussian." "Wait and see — I have warned you," said the old woman, solemnly ; " and, in the meantime, as it is getting very dark, I think you had better not sit out here any longer, but come into the house." The girls rose obediently to follow old Marie, who went on in front, muttering something to her self about magpies and Germans ; the blind girl still knitting though the night had fallen, without a star as yet to lighten it : but the starless night was not different to her from the eternal darkness in which she dwelt. As they entered the drawing-room Madame de Gueymard looked up with a smile. " Why, what have you been doing, girls ? I had just made up my mind to go out and try the garden myself, you seemed so happy there."

" No, we have not been at all happy," replied Eugenie, seating herself by the window, where EUGENIE. 24 she could get a good view of the rising moon ; " or, at least, we ought not to have been, for Marie has been prophesying dimly to us the awful trouble that will befall us for harbouring one of the nation that fought against her grandfather at Water loo!" Madame de Gueymard smiled. " Marie is as re solute in her hatred as in her love." "I think," said Eugenie, "that what she fears is, that he should marry one of us, and so cause what would appear to her a final reconciliation between the French and German nations. She would think it wrong, I am sure, to go on hating any Prussian if one of us had married into the country." "Don't fall in love with him," replied her mother, quietly. " Why, mother," laughed Eugenie, " you are as relentless as Marie."

" Not at all," replied Madame de Gueymard ; " I do not draw a line at Germans, — any foreigner I should think a bad husband for you. And besides, I have other views for you," she added, in a lower voice. A slight blush overspread Eugenie's face ; but she made no answer to her mother's last words, only EUGENIE. 25 returned to the subject, which seemed to have a fascination for her. " Why should you think it such a bad thing for me to marry a foreigner ? " " Why ? " repeated Madame de Gueymard ; " be cause I do not believe that any marriage in which the husband and wife are of a different religion could be a happy one. Believe me," she added, more earnestly than the subject seemed to require — " believe me, for I have seen so many instances, and they have never turned out happily." Eugenie was silenced, and sat looking at the moon for many minutes, which was now lighting up with silver glory the old garden and the dingy street beyond.

" Good night, mother," at last she broke the si lence by saying — "good night; I hope I shall dream neither of magpies nor Germans." " Good night, dear ; dream of anything you like at night, but avoid foreigners in your day-dreams." With which half-laughing warning her mother let her go. "I am half afraid at what I have done now, Antoinette," she went on to her other daughter as the door closed ; " Eugenie is so dreamy and imagi- EUGENIE. 26 native, and sees so few men, that it makes me feel uneasy — and besides, as you know, I have other hopes for her." To which all the answer Antoinette made was, to throw herself on her knees by her mother's side and sob forth, " Oh that I could see ! oh, mother, it is so very hard at times ! " Then Madame de Gueymard forgot her half-formed plans, and little troubles and perplexities about her eldest daughter, in deep commiseration and heart felt compassion for her youngest.

Chapter III

" Like flakes of snow that fall unperceived upon the earth, the seemingly unimportant events of life succeed one another." " Count von Edelberg will not be here until seven o'clock, Marie," said Madame de Gueymard, about a week afterwards, as she entered the breakfast room ; " so we will not have dinner till half an hour later." " Oh, then, this remarkable man is actually to arrive to-day, mother ! " exclaimed Eugenie. "Yes, actually to-day ; and I have other news for you," she went on. " I have had a letter from your cousin Gaston, in which he says that he intends spending three weeks of his leave here, so that we may expect him the beginning of next week." No one spoke for perhaps a second after this announcement, and yet it seemed to affect all present in a certain way. EUGENIE. 28 Marie paused with the salad in her hand, and glanced quickly from Madame to Eugenie, who, with a slight flush on her face, that might have been pleasure or annoyance, was looking into the garden.

Antoinette, who had entered with some flowers in her hand, turned white — white as the tall garden lilies she carried ; but, notwithstanding, she was the first to break the silence. "Then you need not make yourself uneasy, Eugenie, about having to entertain the Prussian, for Gaston speaks German perfectly." "Yes, so he does," rephed Eugenie, as she seated herself at the breakfast - table. "I am very glad he is coming ; it will prevent any difficulties until I have conquered the language — which I mean to do." She spoke quickly, and as though she were not quite at her ease ; but nothing more was said on the subject of either expected guest, and the conversation drifted away into other channels. It is seven o'clock, and Antoinette in a white dress, with black velvet at the throat and wrists, is standing alone in the drawing-room.

Madame de Gueymard is discussing some household matter EUGENIE. 29 in the kitchen, and Eugenie is still hesitating before her looking-glass, wondering whether Gloire de Dijon roses or red geraniums are the most becom ing ; so Antoinette is alone, arranging with clever fingers a few flowers in a tall vase in the centre of the table. Suddenly the velvet curtains are raised, and a maid announces, " Monsieur le Comte ; " and before Antoinette has time to move forward, the much talked-of guest is in the room. He took in the whole picture at a glance ; the long pleasant room, the pretty garden outside, and the taU graceful figure of Antoinette leaning over the table with the flowers still in her hand, colouring a little at the sudden entrance of the stranger : there was some thing so restful and homelike about it, after the long, hot, dusty journey, that M. von Edelberg felt at his ease at once.

" How do you do ? " he said, holding out his hand. "I feel as if we were old friends already, although we have never met before to-day; but I have so often heard your name." Antoinette, startled by the sudden voice, put out her hand nervously, quite forgetting as she did so, the tall glass that had taken so much time and EUGENIE. 30 patience to fill ; and before the Count could save it, the vase fell between them, shivered to atoms. Count von Edelberg started forward saying, " Was that your fault, or mine ? I hope not mine, for Madame de Gueymard would never forgive me such an unlucky commencement to our acquaintance." But he stopped abruptly, as Antoinette, clasp ing her hands together, exclaimed in the saddest voice, "Oh no, it was entirely my fault. I am blind, you know ! " Some dim memories chased each other through Count von Edelberg's mind of the blind Mademoi selle de Gueymard, and his tone changed to one of kindliest pity — such as every one felt onfirst glancing at the sweet face and closed eyes — as he said, almost tenderly, " Poor child," — and then, as he stooped to pick up the scattered blossoms, the door opened to admit Madame de Gueymard; and Antoinette, with flushed cheeks and tearful eyes, fled up-stairs to gain a few minutes alone before dinner was announced.

Madame de Gueymard, directly the door had closed behind her daughter, hastened to make a little speech of welcome — a speech kindly meant to cover any embarrassment the stranger might be feeling. EUGENIE. 31 Gradually any little awkwardness he had felt on the subject of the broken glass vanished ; only, as she opened the door and called to Marie to come and gather up the broken pieces, he, standing in the place where the flowers still lay scattered, glanced at the mother, and holding out his hand, murmured, " I am afraid I was thoughtless, and a httle rude, but I had no idea,"— and then stopped ; and Madame, touched by his boyish attempt at ex pressing his regret for having hurt her blind child's feelings, smiled softly at him as if in forgiveness, though her voice could not find anything to say.

When Count von Edelberg re-entered the drawing room later on, Antoinette had not returned, but Eugenie, with creamy yellow roses in her black hair, was standing in the farther corner of the room, talking to her mother. It was not until she turned round with a word of welcome, that the Count perceived she was not the blind girl. " How stupid of me ! " he exclaimed ; " but you must pardon me, for you are so like your sister — and in this half hght too." Then Eugenie hfted her splendid dark eyes to his face, and he saw the sad, sad difference that lay between the sisters. EUGENIE. 32 Antoinette did not descend till they had gone in to dinner, and then she seated herself quietly and unobtrusively on the opposite side of the table to Count von Edelberg, so that he had full opportunity of noticing the contrast between the two who were so strangely alike, and yet so unlike.

And when dinner was over, and they all rose up to find their way to the garden, he had quite decided in his own mind that Mademoiselle Eugenie de Gueymard was about the handsomest girl he had ever seen, — a conclusion to which many people had come after watching her a little while, despite her being, as I said before, anything but perfectly beautiful. " Would you like to smoke a cigar in the garden ? — for I suppose you do smoke " — said Madame, as they stood for a few minutes at the window. " But stay : first of all you must sit down by me, and tell me about your mother ; we were friends years ago. And as they seated themselves on the stone steps that led from the window to the garden, the two girls moved away to the bench, where they usually spent their evenings under the shadow of the laburnum-tree.

" What is he like ? " questioned Antoinette, EUGENIE. 33 directly they were out of hearing of the others. " He has a nice voice, and is pleasant to talk to, is he not ? But what sort of a man is he to look at?" "He is very big," rephed Eugenie. "I think that describes him better than any other word," glancing as she spoke towards the two figures at the other end of the garden. " He has lightish brown hair, and a very short beard; nice-looking altogether, but not handsome, and very short sighted, — at least I conclude so, as he always puts up an eye-glass before he speaks." " Is he very fair ? " " Oh yes, very fair ; his beard is the darkest thing about him, and that can only just be called brown." " Then he is not at all the sort of man I admire," said Antoinette, gravely. " No, not at all.

You always admire dark-haired men," Eugenie rephed, as gravely as her sister had spoken ; for to her there was nothing ludicrous in the remark ; she had so grown up using her eyes for both, that it was only occasionally the fact of her sister's not seeing flashed across her. " What a fortunate thing it is," said Eugenie, after a pause, " that he speaks French so well ! c EUGENIE. Excepting for his accent, you could scarcely tell he was a foreigner." " But you must not let that interfere with your German lessons, Eugenie. Knowing as much as you do, it would be a pity not to learn a little more, and the fact of his being fair-haired will be an advantage then, — at least if he is a fulfilment of my theory, that the lighter your hair, the better your temper." Before Eugenie had time to answer, the object of their remarks stroUed towards them, cigar in hand.

"I am too sociable myself," he said, " and hate my own society too much, not to come and ask if you mind smoke, before betaking myself to the far end of the garden." A quick blush mounted to Eugenie's cheek. She had lived too much alone to be quite at her ease with strangers, and she answered a little stiffly, that she hoped he would not leave them to them selves. Antoinette was far less shy ; perhaps the very fact of her great trouble removed her in a way above the little, common, everyday trials of this world, and she entered immediately into an ani- EUGENIE. 35 mated conversation with Count von Edelberg on the subject of his home and family. " I have three sisters," he replied, in answer to her interrogations, " all older than myself, and all married, so you can imagine how I am spoilt.

And I never had a brother. But do not either of you speak German ? " he went on ; " it is too bad to make me do all the talking in a foreign tongue." " I can read pretty well," replied Eugenie ; "but as for talking, I am afraid it would not be much help to you, if I were to try, — you would not un derstand much." " You should let me give you lessons." " That is just what I was telling Eugenie," put in Antoinette. " It seems a pity to lose such an opportunity — an opportunity she may never have again." "After that, Mademoiselle, I am sure you will agree to begin to-morrow ; " and the Count raised himself from his lazy position on the grass, and looked quite eagerly into the dark eyes above him. "I declare it will be the very thing. And as a professor, I shall be first-rate, for I am so good tempered," he concluded, with a laugh.

" We had already settled that about you," replied EUGENIE. 36 Eugenie, whose tongue was becoming unloosened as the darkness grew greater ; " but we only judged from the fact that light-haired people are, generally speaking, good-tempered." "Yes, I believe they are," replied Count von Edelberg, passing his hand over his fair head ; " at least I have often heard that all very ill-tempered people are dark. The villains in novels, male and female, generally are ; or they have black hair, or something of the sort." " It is very hard on us," exclaimed Eugenie, " to give us all the bad qualities. May I ask which you reserve for you lucky people who have not the misfortune to be born dark ? " Count von Edelberg rose up to his feet, with such consternation visible on his face, that Euge'nie laughed aloud.

" I beg your pardon," he said, taking a long look at her through his eye-glass — " I beg your pardon ; but really up till this minute I had not noticed your hair was darker than my own ! It does not say much for my powers of observation, does it?" Eugenie and Antoinette both laughed long and merrily over his discomfiture ; and before they could EUGENIE. 37 speak again, Madame's voice was heard calling to them. As they walked over the lawn, however, Count Edelberg found time to say, " I shall never rest now, until I have discovered some failings common to all light-haired people. I feel quite guilty at never having looked at that side of the question before." " We are always more inclined to look at other people's side of the question, I think, than at our own," replied Antoinette ; and with those words the door was reached, and they passed from the dreamy twilight outside, to the comfortable room, and bright, cheerful lamp-light within.

Chapter IV

' ' Ah, well for us all some sweet hope lies, Deeply hidden from mortal eyes." Madame de Gueymard and Eugenie were stand ing the next morning in the breakfast-room dis cussing the merits and demerits of their guest, whilst awaiting his return from an early walk, when Marie entered in an excited frame of mind saying there was a man at the door who wanted, as far as she could make out, for he was a German, to see Count von Edelberg. " Tell him to come in here," said Madame, " and we will see what he wants." Marie went ; but before leaving the room, she found time to say to Eugenie, " Just what I ex pected; we shall have the house swarming with them before we know where we are, and this one is as like Julie Vaubain's lover as anything — he might be his brother." EUGENIE. 39 In two or three minutes she reopened the door, and ushered in a short, stolid-looking man, who, on Eugenie's asking him who he was, and what he wanted, replied that he was Count Edelberg's servant, that he had a lodging in the neighbour hood, and that he had been told to go and see his master in the morning.

"You had better wait," said Eugenie, "till the Count comes in ; " and then, on turning round to speak to her mother, she saw that he was already in the room. "You can never say again that you do not speak German," he remarked. " For the future we will carry on all conversation each in our native tongue." " But, Monsieur," interrupted Madame de Guey mard, " you must not send your servant into lodg ings ; we have plenty of room, and can put him up perfectly — at least," she added with a slight blush, " if he is not very particular." " He is a soldier, Madame, and so has no right to be anything but obedient; still it seems a great shame quartering troops on you in this way." " Don't say that," said Madame, warmly, " for I EUGENIE. 40 am so glad to have you. Please explain it to your servant, and do not let us say anything more about it."

So Hans became an inmate of the Hotel de Guey mard as well as his master, to the great displeasure of old Marie. " What are you going to do to-day ? " asked Madame of Eugenie, after breakfast, before retir ing to her own room to write letters, her usual employment of a morning. " We will take a drive towards evening, but it will be too hot to go out just now." "I am going to have a German lesson first of all," rephed Eugenie, " from the Magpie ! " " My dear, take care," exclaimed her mother, glancing nervously round the room, to make sure that they were alone. " Fancy if he were to hear you calling him by that name ! " " I have got so in the way of speaking of him like that, both to Marie and Antoinette, that I live in continual terror lest I should address him as ' Count Magpie.' I expect I shall do it, some day, from sheer nervousness."