Micheline. Translated by Julia E. S. Rae

Front matter

MICHELINE NOVELS AT ALL LIBRARIES. LIFE'S TAPESTRY. By Caradoc Grau- BINO. 3 VOlS. A SECRET OF THE PAST. By Victor Poweu. 3 vols. BERRIS. By Katherine S. Macquoid. 2 V0l8. CONSTANCE. By F. C. Philips. 3 vols. A GERALDINE. By Richard Ashe King. 2 vols. ROSAMOND'S STORY. By Ina Gasvet. 2 vols. MICHELINE BY HECTOR MALOT TRANSLATED BY JULIA E. S. RAE TWO VOLUMES YOL. II. LONDON WARD AND DOWNEY 12 YOKE STREET COVENT GARDEN W.C. 1893 [All rights reserved'] MICHELINE. Part H.— (continued.)

CHAPTER X.

When the clock struck nine, Germaine made a signal to Micheline, but she did not appear to see it. She had put Pillard on his perch, after calming his distress, and was now looking at the pictures in a volume of the " Tour du Monde," that Jacques, who was sitting by her side, was explaining to her, telling her the history and geography of the countries illustrated. Germaine had to take her hand, feeling that if she gave way that evening, she would have to do so always. " It is time for us to go," she said. " Let us finish our voyage." " You can go on with it to-morrow." Micheline yielded with a very bad grace, VOL. II. B MICHELINE. and did not say a word as they went up stairs. Germaine wished the moment had been a more favourable one for what she had to say, but unfortunately it could not be deferred.

Chapter I

At seventeen years of age, Micheline bore no resemblance to the child Germaine had found on her arrival at Hopsore. The young girl was as silent and reserved in her remarks upon love affairs, as the little girl had been forward and ingenuous. Did she love Witold ? Or was she at least inclined to care for him? This was what the Princess and Germaine longed to know, without being able to come to any conclusion. Neither of them could read Micheline's thoughts, and if Germaine sometimes tried to draw out a distinct reply to her questions, she was only met by a light jest or an enigmatic smile. She, who as a child, talked so often MICHELINE. about her lovers, now spoke of nothing but dress. She seemed entirely absorbed in the pleasure of a well-made gown, or in the disappointment of an unbecoming hat ; and as her godmother had given her carte blanche as to money, she could indulge every fantastic whim.

At first, she had been satisfied with being better dressed than other people; and then she wished to be unlike everybody else. In addition to the natural originality of her taste, she had made a study of it. She had been seen at the Louvre, making sketches from the portraits of the Italian, Dutch or Flemish schools. In the Print department, she had studied old engravings to the embarrassment of the curators puzzled by her unusual demands. In the medal room, she had worked out ancient coiffures from the cameos and engraved stones. But she had devoted the most time to Chevreul's book on the law of simultaneous contrast of colours, which had enabled her to give instructions MICHELINE. to her costumier with an authority which he, with all his experience, could not rival. What could the poor man say, when draping his stuffs upon one of his " young ladies," he was addressed with an observa tion from this girl of seventeen, such as, — " Oh, Monsieur Faugerolle, how can you mingle these two colours ?

If two colours placed near each other contain the same element, does not this element become lost ? " She not only offered advice of this kind to her foumisseurs ; she also expressed approval or disapprobation, in no measured terms, as to the use or abuse of the law of simultaneous contrast, successive contrast, or mixt contrast. She had no pity on those who offended against this law, whatever might be their reputation for unquestion able taste, and Micheline's condemnations were repeated by her friends, proudly anxious to show their learning, " That girl cannot be said to have taste ; she does not even know that orange and blue are complementary of each other." MICHELINE. Certainly this love of dress was not altogether platonic, for it was not only the simple pleasure of wearing a becoming toilette that inspired her fancy, but also the charming compliments and silent admiration that resulted from a successful costume.

Notwithstanding the reserve in speech that had succeeded her childish braggadocio, it was evident that the wish to please she had displayed at ten years old, was still one of her characteristics, and that at seventeen she still liked to attract admirers. Indeed she did all she could to en courage them, and as she had her father's soft blue eyes and slight elegant figure ; the fresh creamy complexion of her mother ; as also an easy high-bred manner of her own, with a tender saucy smile, in which lurked the mysterious charm peculiar to children born of parents of differing race, she always had a con siderable number of followers wherever she went, either in Paris or at Trouville, at theatres or races. MICHELINE. She seemed in her coquetry to care more for the number than the quality or devotion of her adherents ; being almost as ready to discard the old ones as to welcome the new ; as if she cared more for homage rendered to her superiority, than for the assertion of feelings she might have been expected to reciprocate.

Once a recruit was added to her ranks, he could fall back as soon as he pleased ; she did not take any further notice of him. " I am uneasy about Micheline ; what is she about ? " said the Princess often. And as Germaine could not answer this question, the Princess grew angry with her, as she had not courage enough to attack Micheline. " It is your fault : she would not behave in this way, had you used influence over her, to induce her to marry Prince Witold." " Whenever I spoke of Prince Witold to Micheline as a child, she used to say he was too melancholy, and uninterested in everything." " That was only a childish fad." MICHELINE. " Of course ; but it proved a certain incompatibility of temper that neutralized my suggestions. Now, when I mention the prince to her, as I assure you I often do, both to carry out your wishes, and to test her feelings, she never speaks seriously, and sometimes will not say a word."

"It is an insult to Witold, to treat him in this way." " She is not the only girl of her age, who likes to coquet with her admirers. At seventeen nearly all girls like to receive as much attention as possible, not from any particular person, but from men in general." " Of course you find excuses for her." " I neither excuse nor blame her ; I try to account for her conduct." " Then what do you think of her ? " "That she behaves like most girls of her age." " I don't think it altogether a question of age. It depends upon the natural disposition, and that is why it causes me very serious uneasiness." MICHELINE. From any one but the Princess, this observation as to natural disposition would not have implied so much, but considerate as she always was not to hurt the feelings of others, it implied a great deal.

If she felt so much uneasiness on Micheline's account, it was because she was the daughter of a mother who had gone astray. During the seven years this mother had lived constantly with the Princess, her life had indeed been abso lutely blameless, although she was still beautiful, and surprisingly young for her age ; animated and cheered by her asso ciation with Micheline. But still the present could not cancel the past. After years of expiation the fault remained ; at a certain time and under certain conditions this good mother had not been a loyal wife. Before the avowal Germaine had made, the Princess had sometimes regretted not knowing Micheline's parents, believing that the discovery of them would give her ad ditional reason to care for the child. They MICHELINE. were probably as good people as she could wish, and would be pleased at her adoption of the child who had been either stolen from them, or deserted because of destitute circumstances.

But since Germaine had spoken, the contrary proved to be the case, and if she had no reason to love Micheline less, she had cause to feel anxious about her. She was grieved to find that there was a slur upon Micheline's birth ; this mother was trying to her, and she was disturbed at the idea of an unknown father. Although she had accepted Germaine's story without comment or protest, a suspicion had more than once crossed her mind. The fact of the nurse having left the child just at the gate of Hopsore ; the walk into the forest at the very time it was abandoned ; the readiness with which Casimir had consented to take charge of it and to be godfather ; the name of Michel ine, the coincidence of this baby's appearance at the very time when the Prince's affection for his wife had cooled, all VOL. II. l MICHELINE. pointed to a combination of circumstances that could not escape the notice of a woman whose mind was aroused to jealousy.

She had too, already been struck with some traits of resemblance be tween Micheline and the Prince; her soft blue eyes, slight figure and style, her pleasant and fascinating manners. And yet she had never hinted one word of this doubt, nor allowed herself to dwell upon it for a moment. It would be an insult to the memory of her beloved husband. Would it not be a most cruel and bitter humiliation for her to admit to this woman that she might have been deceived ? If while the Prince had lived she had taken pride in his love, she had gloried in it still more since his death. But for all her silence, she had been much distressed at the idea, and these strange facts had weighed heavily upon her heart. Why should Micheline not be the daughter of the Prince ? Why should this woman not have designed this desertion, to rid herself of the child, and force it upon MICHELINE. her lover ?

It was not impossible, and the dates given by Germaine would not dis prove it, since they might not be genuine. But even were it so, she could not, and would not give up the child. In the memory of the distant past, the Prince had become transfigured, and her faith in him had become blind and superstitious to a degree that prevented any question of blame attaching to his name. He could have done nothing wrong, and she felt for him not only a wife's but a mother's devotion. If he were the father of Micheline, she would take the place of a grandmother to her. Years had passed by; she was no longer suffering under the immediate shock of a deception for which some extenuations might have been found ; and sometimes, in the transports of maternal feeling so strong in a tender-hearted woman who has been childless, she persuaded herself that perhaps Providence had willed it thus, that the child of him she had so pas sionately loved, should still be left to her.

L MICHELINE. Her mind had been so troubled by this fear, that she had never chosen to verify the facts Germaine had placed before her, nor to see the doctor who had attended Germaine or question the nurse Eugenie at Argentan, who had deserted Micheline. To what purpose ? She was afraid of inquiring too closely, as during the life-time of the Prince she dared not inquire into all the details of his conduct. She preferred uncertainty, and clung to it vaguely. Still, if Micheline were the Prince's daughter, the Princess could have no great confidence in her steadiness ; her natural disposition would give still more cause for anxiety, and if it served to explain her strange coquetry, it would not excuse it. Should Micheline persist in this con trariety the marriage proposed might fall through, for Witold would be discouraged and probably withdraw from it.

Already he had more than once, mildly MICHELINE. indeed, expressed dissatisfaction with Micheline's conduct towards him, and he must not be offended. The Princess must therefore intervene to prevent this.

Chapter II

This intervention was a serious annoy ance to the Princess, for it was sure to involve a discussion with Micheline, and she had a horror of discussions. All her life she had avoided argument upon prin ciple, and she would have given up a for tune rather than enter into even a slight dispute. It was to avoid discussion she paid whatever she was asked ; she allowed her household to be ruled by Regina and Saint-Denis rather than have to interfere with her servants ; and accepted the assistance of agents who robbed her in every direction, rather than dispute the accounts of those who managed her for tune. This dread of argument was so well known, that her tradespeople often hinted MICHELINE. that much as they should regret to trouble Madame la Princesse, yet — the half expressed threat always brought her to terms at once.

It was certainly for tunate that the advertisement " Beau moussel, Beaumoussel ; note the trade mark ! " continued to produce the desired effect, otherwise the Princess would long since have been ruined. If she disliked differences with strangers, she shrank from them yet more with those she loved, and this was why she had so long delayed questioning Micheline as to this marriage, having a certain convic tion that she would meet with opposition to her wishes. She could not foresee the extent of this opposition, but it was evident that at present Micheline had no intention of marrying Witold. Perhaps had the Princess exerted her self sooner, things would have taken another turn. She had been wrong to leave it to Germaine, who had done nothing to further it, and this was another grievance against her.

MICHELINE. These seven years had not indeed passed without disagreements between the two ladies, and if they had not ended in open warfare it was due to prudent resignation in the one, and want of reso lution in the other. It was difficult to fight when one had laid down her arms in advance, and the other could not summon up courage to make the attack. But although no actual quarrel had taken place, the resentment on both sides was felt even more keenly on account of the explanation being evaded, each being conscious of a sacrifice made for the sake of the other. " After all she is a miserable woman," thought the Princess. " She has everything to make her happy," thought Germaine, with a touch of envy. Regarding Witold the Princess wondered, not venturing openly to ask the question, for what reason Germaine had not forced him upon Micheline's attention.

Did she not consider a Sobolewski good enough for her daughter ? Or on the MICHELINE. other hand, did she see an objection to him as Micheline's uncle by birth ? This idea, more than any other, had caused her many acute pangs of jealousy, and she had only laid it aside by the reflec tion that this legal prohibition of marriage between uncles and nieces did not prevent them from taking place, under the sanc tion of the law and the Church. Had Germaine any serious cause to distrust Witold, or had Micheline confided any to her that she was unwilling to repeat ? At all events, from whatever motive Germaine had acted, it was probable that had she chosen, things would have taken another turn. It became then the duty of the real mother, to undo the harm caused by the false mother. Had Micheline been gradually accus tomed to the idea of marrying Witold, she would not have yielded to these coquettish caprices, which would, sooner or later, compromise her ; and but for this behaviour, which doubtless hurt Witold's MICHELINE. feelings, and disturbed his confidence in the future, he would not show the indif ference he undoubtedly appeared to feel, which Micheline might fairly resent ; for there was something to complain of on both sides.

Micheline was coy, because Witold did not pay her sufficient atten tion, and was too dull and abstracted she said ; while Witold was dull precisely because Micheline was coquettish. She might well be piqued when a man she saw so constantly treated her like a child ; and he might object with equal reason, to being looked upon as an old man. He would say, — " Micheline, how silly you are ! " And she would retort, — " Witold, how wise you are ! " This would not do, and the Princess thought she would only have to say a word to put things right ; so that they should understand, as was really the case, that they were intended for each other. Any objection Micheline might have to this marriage could not be insuperable. MICHELINE. Having often revolved this in her mind, the Princess at length resolved to speak, and one November evening, on the eve of her return to Paris, where Micheline would resume her habits of the previous season, she began the discussion.

Ger maine, as usual in the evening, had gone to her own rooms ; they were alone in the little Chinese drawing-room on the ground floor, the fire was blazing on the hearth, while the west wind was beating against the chateau, and they had the evening to themselves without any fear of interrup tions. " I am sure you will allow, my dear girl, that I do not often interfere with you." " Indeed you don't, perhaps even not as much as you should. If you want to say anything to me, as I fancy you do by your serious manner, I will listen attentively to all you wish me to hear." " Do be serious too, for once. You are no longer a child, and I want you to act more like a girl of your age. " In what way ? " MICHELINE. "About your marriage." Micheline rose quickly, and coming up to, her godmother, put her hand over her lips, saying, in a jesting tone that evi dently concealed real emotion, — " I don't want to be married yet !

" " Still— " Micheline would not heed the interrup tion, and continuing to speak quickly, she added, — " Why are girls so ready to be married ? Because for some reason or other they wish to leave home, where they are dull or subjected to undue restraint; because they are anxious to be well provided for ; because they would like to be called Madame, or go out alone, or wear diamonds, or for other reasons of the same kind. None of these apply to me. I don't want to leave you, I am free and happy, and have no anxiety for the future ; thanks to you I have nothing to wish for, and have pearls enough not to care for diamonds ; why do you want me to marry? " MICHELINE. " Because you have come to an age when you and I should think of your marriage, and it is my duty to point this out to you." " But I am not yet eighteen.

You must be in a great hurry to get rid of me. " I wish to see you settled for life." " Well settled, of course you mean, and at seventeen and a half a girl hardly knows her own mind. You know that I don't believe in too early marriages, it is so like a lottery, one only gains one prize in a thousand, and perhaps not always that. Let me have more chances on my side, the chances that future years may bring me the prudent foresight and judgment that I am far from possessing now. Do not think me more grown up than I am ; and let me cultivate the art of choosing a husband wisely." " Why do you encourage so many admirers about you ? " " To amuse myself. That is why I beg you not to ask me to be married yet, or MICHELINE. to talk of marrying me. I should be quite deserted then, and I like to be admired."

" It is not at all the thing." " Why not ? I have never shown pre ference to any one ; only let me amuse my self a little longer. I enjoy exercising my powers of attraction. Let me have three or four years of pleasure before me, for it will be quite time enough to marry then. Later on you shall propose a marriage for me. Good-night now, if I may go." She came up to her godmother to kiss her, but the Princess detained her, saying,— " I was not thinking only of your marriage, but of the man I want you to marry." " You can tell me about him when we talk over the marriage question again. I would rather not even know his name. It would annoy me to fancy that any one had a right to judge all I say or do." "It is my duty to name him, for I wish this marriage as much as he does." MICHELINE. Micheline was evidently startled, but she soon recovered herself, and said with a laugh, — " Name the young man, for I cannot imagine who he can be.

Do I know him?" " You already know and love him, at least as a friend ; you have seen a great deal of him." Micheline's lips trembled with agitation. " Can it be Jacques ? " said she, in an agitated voice. " What Jacques ? " " There is only one, your nephew, Jacques Hebertot." " How silly you are ! I asked you to be serious : we are talking of a matter most important to your happiness and mine." " Then it must be Jean, or else Pierre," said Micheline, trying to speak lightly. "It is Witold, Prince Witold Sobo lewski." At this Micheline burst out laughing, and said, — MICHELINE. " The Prince has never spoken to me by look or word of his matrimonial intentions ! We see each other continually, and he has every opportunity of saying what he likes to me, and yet he has never spoken out." " He has behaved like an honourable )> man.

" I think he has behaved more like a king, who marries through an ambassador." " Not at all. He wishes you to be his wife, and I wish it also, for he will give you the name and title of the Sobolewskis, which I cannot legally do by adopting you. He certainly has no fortune, but as you will inherit mine, that does not matter much. Besides, he is of noble birth, and is graceful and distinguished-looking, and loves you — " Here Micheline interrupted her godmother, saying, — " You must let me judge for myself, Marraine, as to that. You say truly that he is well-born ; his grace and distinction may be an open question; but as to MICHELINE. his lave, he has given no proof of that. When Prince Witold condescends to be come one of my admirers, I can form au opinion as to his love for me. Until then , do not let us say any more about it, for I will never marry without loving my husband, and being certain he loves me.

When I am sure of this as, regards Witold, we can return to the subject of marriage, and see if this love is strong enough to enable us to sacrifice to it my youthful days, aud our happiness, dear Marraine, in living to gether." "A girl does not sacrifice her youth when she marries." " At all events she gives up her liberty, and I assure you, I value mine very much indeed. But what I care for most is not to be separated from you." " This marriage would not separate us. " Who can tell ? Remember, that if I married Witold you would become his mother-in-law; and who knows before hand whether a son-in-law will be good VOL. II. M MICHELINE. to his mother-in-law? I will think over your plan and wishes, and we will talk it over again later on, when I shall have time to form a decision. Until then, leave me my liberty, do not interfere with me, or you will be trying to marry me, and I so much want to choose for myself ! Once more, good-night."

Chapter III

At Hopsore the rooms of Germaine and Micheline were as formerly next to each other, only separated by two dressing rooms leading into each other, so that they were constantly together. Often Germaine got up to go and look at Micheline asleep in the night, when she could lay aside the restraint she was obliged to impose upon herself during the day. The carpet deadened the sound of her footsteps, and as the shutters were only closed when the wind blew hard, she could on a moonlight night, reach the bed noiselessly, where Micheline was sleeping soundly ; and she stayed there for hours, listening to her regular breathing, watching her, admiring the grace of her attitude, and the charm of her beautiful m MICHELINE. face with the silvery moonbeams resting upon it. Upon leaving the Chinese salon, Micheline went quickly up to her room, but instead of staying there, she crossed the two dressing-rooms and went in to Germaine, who was reading at a table in her own room, as she usually did until Micheline came up to wish her good-night.

As became her position of governess, she left the salon after dinner, leaving the " mother " and daughter alone, when there was no company at the chateau. But when Micheline came to bed, Ger maine's turn came, and in an affectionate look and greeting she could express her tender regard, and watch over her child during the night. At the sound of Micheline's hasty step, Germaine guessed that something unusual had occurred ; and she asked anxiously at once, — " What is it, my child ? " " Are you sleepy to-night ? " was Michel ine's only reply. MICHELINE. ' Not at all." " Then please go to bed and wait there for me. I must speak to you when Marraine cannot overhear us. When she is asleep, I shall come to you." " What has happened ? " " Something important affecting the happiness of my life ; but it will never do for Marraine to suppose I consulted you."

Then in a louder voice, as if to be heard by any one on the alert, Micheline added, — " Good-night, Madame Germaine ! " Having returned to her room, she did not go to bed, but undressing, put on a white flannel dressing-gown and waited. She was far too much excited to be likely to fall asleep. Outside the storm continued, the gusts of wind beat against the chateau with torrents of rain, and all sounds were lost in the uproar of the gale ; the striking of the clock could hardly be heard above it. When Micheline thought the Princess must be asleep, she returned to Germaine's MICHELINE. room, where the lamp-light had been lowered. "Madame Germaine, you must save me!" " Save you — from whom ? " " From Witold, who wants to marry me. " You have known that for some time past. Why are you so agitated ?

" " I thought that seeing how I went on with him, and the others, he had given up his intentions." " Was this the reason ? " "Partly, and partly because I wished to amuse myself. But he has not given me up ; he wants me to be his wife, Marraine has just told me so." " And what did you say ? " " I made light of it, for I saw at once what was coming, and had time to prepare myself for it. I pretended to be surprised at the idea of marrying Witold. How could I have guessed the intentions of so listless a man ? Without giving a decided answer, I said I must first know if Witold MICHELINE. loved me, and then if I could love him. Upon that I left Marraine to ask you to help me." " Me ! " " To whom should I go but you ? Have you not been like a mother to me for seven years ? " "Dear child ! " said Germaine, delighted.

" I don't know what it is to have a mother, and can only judge by those of my friends, but I have never seen any who had for their daughters the loving care and attention, the constant kindness, gentleness and patience that you, only my governess, have had for me." "Micheline! Micheline!" murmured Germaine. " I could not find an opportunity of saying this before, but now I wish you to know that my heart is full of gratitude to you." As she spoke, Micheline tenderly embraced Germaine, who tried to control the excess of joy that almost overpowered her. MICHELINE. " So," continued Micheline, returning to her subject, " it is but natural I should come to you when I am in difficulty, and ask you to protect me, for I cannot depend upon Marraine. Had I been able to induce her to stand by me, I should not have put her off lightly to gain time.