Helen Duval; a French romance

Preface

TN the summer of eighteen hundred and eighty- ^ six, the author was stopping with a friend in Paris.

It was in the month of April and the city was wearing her loveliest colors. I had been there about three weeks and had become thoroughly interested in my surroundings.

There is so much to be seen in Paris ; her magnificent theaters, parks, gardens, handsome buildings, beautiful avenues and a multitude of interesting sights.

Anyone visiting the city need never be at a loss for somewhere to go or something to admire.

I was stopping with my friend, Narbonne Vincent in the Rue Tait-bot.

He is a Parisian to his heart’s core ; insisted on taking me everywhere and showing me everything.

We had become acquainted in New York about a year previous. He was then thinking about visit- ( iii )

iv

PREFACE ing France to see his father whom he had not seen for three years, and gave me an invitation to call on him should I ever visit Paris.

His father vied with him in making my visit as pleasant as possible.

Monsieur Vincent Pere was a widower, consequently we had no ladies to consult. AVe would lemain up until almost morning telling stories and amusing ourselves in various ways. It was from Narbonne’s father that I learned the story of Helen Duval and Louis Clarke.

He was a native of Lyons and it was there that he first knew the Duvals ; meeting them again in Paris.

I was profoundly sorry to hear of his death six months later. He had been to Lyons on a visit and after a short illness died.

Narbonne told me he felt his loss sadly.

It was from him that I received such a clear and accurate description of the characters that has enabled me to write such a detailed account.

I have, of course, introduced new features and characters, but have not materially changed the story as it was originally given to me.

The names of the streets and places of that description I have taken from my memory of Paris, but won’t take oath as to their complete accuracy.

I have endeavored to give to each character his or her proper place in the book, portraying their different dispositions.

PREFACE y

And have especially devoted a little extra attention to Mademoiselle Duval and Monsieur Louis Clarke.

Helen being the heroine, and Louis in love with her, I th ught it compulsory to do so but not to the extent of becoming detrimental to the other characters.

I shall say no more but leave the criticism that will necessarily follow to the indulgent and discriminating public.

Respectfully,

JAMES L. YOUNG.

HELEN DIJVAL

*

Chapter I

I N one of the narrow streets, in the north side of Paris and not far from Pere la Chaise, there lived in Eighteen Hundred and Seventy-four, a beautiful young girl by the name of Helen Duval. She was an orphan ; and lived alone, with no other companion but a very old woman, who kept her three little modest rooms clean and did all the work required in such a small household.

Helen was a dressmaker, and was seldom at home during the day. She worked with several other girls in a shop on the other side of Paris ; I think in the Rue Henri quartre. She was about nineteen years old ; and very beautiful. Had lovely blue eyes ; a mass of brown hair, that fell when unbound almost to her feet, a beautiful oval face ; small ears ; and small white hands. But her greatest charm was to be found in her eyes. ' When she looked at you it was impossible to resist her charming gaze. And when at times she would lower them, — hidden for a moment by their long lashes — and then suddenly raise them, and look full at you, the conquest was certain. You became, for the time, delirious with joy and happiness, and w T ould tor ever after do her bidding blindly, and without a

murmur. .

Helen had many lovers, but she treated them all alike. Showing a preference for none in particular.

But the one that loved her most was just the one that she would not speak to at all ; except she was with one of her friends. Then she would, on meeting him, stop and say a few commonplace remarks on some unimportant subject ; then would say she had much to do at home, — if going in that direction — or if going to work, would say that she must be at the shop at such an hour, bow to him, and hasten on her way, leaving him there, struggling with his love for her.

Louis Clarke, was of English birth, and had come to Paris with his parents, when very young, — was about twenty-nine years old, and very dark complexioned.

He was terribly proud and reserved by nature ; and it was for that, I suppose, Helen did not like him. I think that she almost hated him ; it is true she was afraid of him ; and would not, under any circumstances, speak to him alone. And it was equally true that he loved the ground she walked on, but all to no purpose. She would give him no chance of making love to her, although she knew very well that she was the sole possessor of his heart.

Whether she ever thought of him in any way, no one could tell. All her friends would cry shame on her for treating him so cruelly, but she would continue to shun him all she could. |

Helen was forewoman at Madame St. Claire’s establishment for dressmaking, and had several other young girls under her. Madame was very fond of her, because she was clever at her work, and kept all the other girls busy, and in good order. And the girls liked her also, every one of them; and would execute her slightest order with precision. One morning Madame St. Claire was sitting alone in her private room, when the bell rang, and when she opened the door was astonished to see standing there no other person than Louis Clarke, looking sad, with hat in hand; begging to allow him to see her, for a few moments alone. This could be easily done, as her private room stood apart from that portion of the house where the girls were at work.

She accordingly bade him enter, closing the door after placing a chair for him, and taking one herself, asked what had brought him from his work to see her at such an hour. Madame knew Louis very well, and knew all about his love for her handsome forewoman.

He began by apologizing for his untimely visit, and told her that it was about Helen Duval that he had come to speak, after receiving her promise of secrecy he began to relate to her his tale of ardent love for Helen.

He told her that he had tried to get some encouragement from Helen, a recognition of his love in ever so small a degree, but had failed in every attempt, and did not know what to do.

“But,” said Madame, “why not let her alone then, if she treats you so badly ? If I were in your place I would seek another sweetheart.” He replied that it was impossible for him to do that, because his whole heart had been given to Helen the first time that he had ever seen her. That he would wait patiently for her, if he could only find out whether she really did not hate him.

“ Well, Monsieur, how can I help you? What can I do? She is not my daughter, and I have no right to interfere in such a matter. I can tell you one thing, though, and this much I am sure of — she has no other lover, and if you give her time to find out her own heart, she might come to love you in time. You are too anxious, and you inspire her with fear for you.

“ This is natural, because she is so young, and you must remember also, that she has no parents, and wishes to be very careful in matters relative to matrimony. You should consider, then, all these things ; and have patience. That is my advice to you. In the mean time I shall take the first opportunity to sound her about it, and will let you know what I think, when you come to see me again.”

Louis thanked Madame very much, and arose to take his leave feeling much better for having seen her. It was then about 10 a. m., and as he passed by the room where he knew his enamorado was at work, his heart beat faster than the “ click, click” of the many sewing machines, driven by the girls inside.

Louis was a printer, working in a large printing office in the Rue Scribe. He was an hour behind his time ; but his employers knew him thoroughly, and liked him, and he was sure that nothing would come of this, the first time he had ever been late. He would simply explain the cause of his delay, and that would be sufficient.

Helen’s most intimate friend was Cora Dubois. She lived in the Rue Dunkirk with her mother and brother, and was always a welcome guest at her friend’s home.

She knew more about Helen and her ways than anybody, except Madame St. Claire. She was a couple of years the senior of Helen, and rumor said that she was going to be married shortly to a young engineer working somewhere in the city. In the afternoon of the day of Louis’ visit to Madame, she was to accompany Helen home.

It was a long way, but the girls agreed to walk the entire distance.

At five o’clock they left the shop, and proceeded to make their way toward the Boulevard Sebastipol, and through short cuts, in the Rue La Fayette; walking until they came to the canal at the top of the Rue La Fayette, then following the Bus Road until they came within sight of Pere la Chaise.

They chatted all the way ; and it was not until half-past six, that Helen’s home was reached.

When they had entered, and had taken off their cloaks and mantles, rested a little, and bathed their faces, Helen asked old Ninette to give them supper.

She had everything in readiness in a few moments, and the two young girls proceeded to partake of it. It consisted of mutton chops and salad, a small omelet souffle, nuts, figs, cheese, and a decanter of excellent claret.

Old Ninette stood close by, ready to hand anything to them ; but they did not require her services in the least. They occupied a full hour in the enjoyment of this dainty repast ; then they withdrew from the table, and went into the little parlor for a chat about things that could only interest themselves alone.

Chapter II

R. Samuel Clarke lived in the Faubourg St.

-L * T Honore, with his wife and son, Louis Clarke. We are already acquainted with the younger man.

We will now introduce to our readers, his parents. Mr. Clarke was an Englishman by birth, but his wife was a Parisian, whom he had met in London, and married after a short courtship.

Although they were getting quite old, they were still in love with each other, and they loved their son Louis very dearly.

They knew of his love for Mademoiselle Duval, and also of her dislike for him.

The father was anxious that Louis should go to London, and marry a certain Miss Eastwood, a daughter of his bosom friend.

The two young persons had not met since childhood ; yet old man Eastwood, and his friend Clarke, had often talked about it. But Madame Clarke was decidedly against it. She said that Louis should marry a French lady, and no other.

Louis himself was only too willing to obey his mother.

One evening he sat down by the side of his mother, and told her of his untiring love for Helen.

And she was determined to go and see this girl for whom her son was breaking his heart, but who seemed to care so little for him.

It was about a week after Louis’ visit, that his mother took her way to Madame St. Claire and asked to see her.

When she had introduced herself, she asked Madame to allow her to see Mademoiselle Duval for a few moments.

Madame very suavely complied, and went to call Helen, — and as she left the room, laughingly said, — “ You must be very careful with your future daughter-in-law. For,” said she, “she is very proud, and you must not say anything to wound her feelings in the slightest.”

The young lady entered the room where Madame Clarke sat waiting for her. As she entered Madame arose to receive her. Looking keenly at her all the time, she was forced to admit to herself, that her son had made a wise choice, as far as outward appearances would indicate.

Madame had been thinking how she had best broach the subject of her son’s love ; and had determined to try what the sudden mention of his name would do ; and succeeded far beyond her utmost hopes.

At the sound of that name, spoken by his mother, — although she did not know it was his mother, — her face and neck became suffused with blushes, and she stammered as though she was about to choke.

And what had Madame said ? She had simply inquired, quite suddenly, “ if it was true that she knew Louis Clarke ? ” And saw at once what her son had been vainly trying to find out.

Madame was glad for his sake ; but felt just a little anxious as to what the lady would do when she should recover her composure, which Helen quickly did. Then Madame saw another phase of her son’s sweetheart’s character.

She threw her head up, and with burning cheeks, and flashing eyes, demanded to know to whom she was speaking.

Madame quietly answered, “ I am his mother, and would be yours also, if you will let me.”

And she arose and went to her, as she sat, pale, and looking frightened. “Yes,” continued Madame, “ your blushes at the sound of his name told me plainly that you loved my son ; although you will not let him see or know it. Will you let me love you, for his sake ? For if he loves you, I must also.

“I have found out lately that you hold his life’s happiness in your hands. Will you make him miserable for life, or will you make him happy ? He does not know of my visit to you, and I promise you to keep it a secret if you so desire it.”

Helen here found her voice, and replied:

“Madame you have found out in a second, what I have striven to hide from your son for many, many months past. I have not permitted the slightest sign of love for him to escape me.

“I am a young and motherless girl, unused to the ways of the world. And when I first saw Monsieur Clarke, I felt strangely drawn toward him. Felt that I was losing something here in my heart. The sensation was new to me.

“I could not understand it. I had never felt that way before. Then it came to me that I was loving a man. I had heard of young girls falling through innocence, and their love for some one of the opposite sex. I made my mother a promise on her deathbed to commit no act for which I would have cause to be ashamed. And for this reason gave

Monsieur Louis no encouragement — no sign of my love for him.

“And I assure you madam, I love him dearly, but, entreat you not to acquaint him of it. In short he must not see me again at all.

“I forbid it for several reasons. In the first place I am too young to think of marriage. In the second place, I have nothing >~ut what I earn as a dressmaker, and that just suffices to keep me, and Ninette.”

“ But,” interrupted Madame Clarke, “you won't have to keep him. It will be just the other way. It will be his place to support you. And I give you my word he can do that easily enough. We are not rich ; but our son's wife need never want for anything. So promise me that the next time you see him, you will be kinder to him than you have been in the past.”

Helen smiled, and said that she had never been unkind to him. But had simply refused to permit him, — to allow him — to make love to her, for the reasons she had stated.

Helen promised though, not to avoid him so persistently, now that she had seen his mother, and found her so lovable.

Madame St. Claire here entered, smiling ; and Madame Clarke arose to take her leave, apologizing for disturbing her, and keeping her forewoman from her duties.

She accordingly shook hands with Helen,

kissing her on the cheek, — and promising to pay her a visit at her own home.

Helen blushingly retired to her labours ; leaving the two older ladies alone in the room,

Chapter III

A FTER Helen retired, Madame St. Claire asked Madame Clarke what she thought of her son’s choice ?

To which Madame Clarke replied, that she was very much pleased, and would do her utmost to promote and encourage their early marriage. And after a few moments more conversation, took her leave, promising to, call again.

We will now return to Louis whom we left, in Chapter One, on his way to work after he had seen Madame St. Claire.

He arrived, as we have said, a full Tiour behind his time, and met the proprietor at the door ; who smilingly said — “Ah ! you are late this morning Louis.”

But Louis took him aside, and spoke a few words to him ; at which Monsieur Theobald smiled, and said it was all right, and bade him go to his work.

Louis thanked him, and passed into the office* where his fellow workmen were busy and had been for some time. All through that day he kept thinking of what Madame St. Claire had said to him.

She had told him that young girls became frightened when a lover pressed his suit too vehemently, and had advised him to wait patiently, and to give her time to think. He did not know, as the reader does, that he was the man of her choice ; and had been so for months past. Poor fellow, how could he guess that ?

By her actions she had been cold to him, never speaking to him unless a third party was present. Always snubbed him; and frowned down any attempt on his part to make love to her. Then how was he to know that she loved him ?

This state of things might have gone on for an indefinite time, had not the wit of his French mother made everything clear at one stroke.

But his mother, womanlike, was not going to let him win so easily — although she wanted to see her son happy.

Therefore, on his arriving at home that evening, she took him into the parlor before he had even had his supper ; and told him that he must not attempt to see Mademoiselle Duval that night, on her way home, as had been his custom lately.

He had been accustomed to wait for her at the corner of the Boulevard Magenta, and the Rue La Fayette — just only to get a glimpse of her, some recognition, no matter how slight. And upon that depended his night’s rest. He dared not follow her to her home — She would not permit it. And he would return sad or pleased, as she had treated him smilingly or not.

And now this consolation was denied him, and by his own mother. What then was he to do ?

His mother, seeing the struggle that was raging in her son’s breast, resolved to give him some comfort, and proceeded to relate to him about her visit ; carefully omitting to state anything of the discovery of Helen’s love for him. But simply

j • telling him to have patience and he would wm the lady of his choice. She would say nothing more, however ) and with this he had to be satisfied.

He gave his mother his promise, and manfully kept his word.

He went for his usual evening walk, but in quite an opposite direction from that which Helen had to take on her way home.

And, — as his mother had foreseen, — by that simple circumstance gained more than he ^would have done, had he attempted to see her that night.

Helen, as usual, left her work on the evening of that day — She had resolved to be a little less cruel to Louis. But yet, did not know exactly how far to go.

She was alone this evening, and was debating with herself whether she should stop and speak to him, whether she should smile on him or simply bow, and pass on.

By the time she had got thus far in her thoughts, she had reached the corner where it had been his custom to expect her. f

But, behold! — He was not there. Her heart gave a great bound. — Then it almost ceased to beat. — Was he, then, vexed with her ? She had been very cold to him the previous evening, — she remembered that.

Had he taken offense, and resolved to see her no more ?

Poor Helen ! She was in trouble surely, did not know what to think, and proceeded to do thing she had never done before — She threw swift glance around, to see if he was there, and had passed him by mistake.

p p

No, he was not there. She then felt that she loved him more than ever. But resolved never to pass that way to her home again.

She could not walk any more that evening, — She called a passing fiacre, and was driven to her home. Helen paid and dismissed the driver, having just sufficient strength to open the gate, pass through her little garden, and up to the door. Here her strength failed. And old Ninette arrived just in time to receive her, faint and dizzy.

She carried her into the house, and laid her on the parlor sofa, after taking off her outer clothing and unbuttoning her collar, she went to the mantel and took from thence a small phial of Sal Volatile, and unscrewing the silver stopper, placed it to her nostrils several times before she could be revived.

At last Helen opened her eyes, and shivered as though with cold — although the room was warm enough — She asked Ninette what was the matter. Ninette replied that she did not know. Suddenly it all came back to her, and she burst into a flood of tears.

They undoubtedly gave her great relief ; for after crying and sobbing for fully five minutes, she suddenly stopped and smiled, throwing her arms around old Ninette’s neck, bidding her not to mind her — that she was not sick, nor anything of that sort — but just tired, asked her to make a cup of very strong coffee, which she would drink after bathing her face, and before eating her supper. Ninette went to perform her ablutions, giving her face a good rub, and heightening her color.

She made it a rule never to use powder or rouge, and consequently her face was as smooth as velvet, and her color quite natural.

About the time she had finished making her toilet, Ninette was ready with the coffee. Helen began to drink it leisurely, showing that she had completely recovered her spirits. When she had finished, she took her watering pot and gardening shears, and went into the garden, as was her custom every evening ; leaving Ninette to prepare the supper.

Old Ninette muttered to herself, she was sure it was an affair of the heart, and would like to see her young mistress happily married.

The old creature was very fond of her, and would do anything to give her pleasure. In the mean time Helen was busy among her flowers, and did not penpit herself to think any more of Louis for the rest of the evening.

She remained half an hour in the garden ; then became tired ; and returned to the house with a rose in the bosom of her dress, looking bewitchingiy lovely, with her eyes sparkling, and singing joyously.

It would not have been well for the tranquility and peace of Mr. Louis Clarke, to have seen her then. She ate her supper, doing justice to Ninette’s culinary art. Then taking up a few nuts and a nut cracker, retired to her little parlor, where, after amusing herself for an hour, — singing and reading, — with a remark to Ninette occasionally — she became at last sleepy, and bidding Ninette to close the place for the night and follow her example when she had finished, — went to her room, and to bed.

Chapter IV

N that same night, Monsieur Clarke and his wife had ja conversation about Louis

and she, in the strictest confidence, informed him of her visit in the morning and the results thereof. He said he was satisfied to let Louis marry her, if she was a good girl, and he loved her and she him, he would forego his long cherished plan, to see him wedded to his friend’s daughter in London.

“ Oh ! bother that girl ! A Frencl/wife is much the better of the two. And, besides, you have not yet seen her. I am going to invite her here and I want yod to love her. for I "consider her already as my daughter ; and she will be so in less than six months;now thatT have taken the matter in hand.”

“I am satisfied,” replied her husband, “ and speaking about a French wife, there never was a sweeter, truer, lovelier one than my own dear Mamie. And if this young lady is only half as good as you are, he will possess a treasure for which he can never be too grateful.”

Madame smiled at this burst of praise, which she was duly entitled to, merely kissing her husband and telling him to “ shut up and go to bed,” which he proceeded to do : she herself soon following.

Louis had not yet returned, but that was nothing unusual however ; his father and mother knew that he would soon be at home.

After closing up the front door, Bertram, muttering to himself that it was about time that Monsieur Louis should be married, in which case he ventured to express his decided opinion that his young master would find it more conducive to his peace and quietness to spend his evenings at home. Then, the man of all work, still muttering, retired.

In the meantime, where was Louis ? In accordance with the promise he had given his mother, he had refrained from going in the direction of the Boulevard Magenta. He walked about aimlessly for some time, then hailing a fiacre that was passing, he entered and was driven through the Champ Elysees to the Bois de Bologne, and sat down on one of the seats outside the gate.

He could not enter because it was too late. He, however, did not wish to do so. He only wanted to sit down and think.

He recalled the first time he had seen Mademoiselle Helen Duval, three years ago. How he had thought that she looked frightened at their first meeting. He remembered how he trembled and could not utter a word when his friend Jules Bertram had introduced them. That he had met her often on the street alone. But she would never stop and converse with him.

He had also met her with her friend Mademoiselle Cora Dubois ; and had noticed that she would stop then , merely to remark that it was a lovely morning and to give him her hand. Even on those occasions she would be cold and reserved to him.

He had noticed all these things in the first year after he had become acquainted with her and had tried to forget a girl who would treat him in that c manner.

He had resolutely kept out of her way for a whole week, only to find that he must see her again. He did see her at the end of that time ; looking lovelier, sweeter, and more cold than ever, and had never since tried to stem the flood of his love for her. Found it was an utter impossibility; he had never seen her flirting with any one ; she was entirely different from all other girls of his acquaintance.

He had once timidly implored her to allow him to walk home with her but she had refused and looked offended and hurt, as he had thought, at the time ; and had never ventured to repeat the request, but had seen her almost every evening at the junction of Hue de La Fayette and Boulevard Magenta.