“You find that a virtue, Princess?”
“Indeed I do. He does what he wants without
bothering about what people will say.”
“But does he really know what they do say of
him?”
“You know that Albert and I have been friends
since childhood,” said the Princess. “He
is twenty-eight, I am thirty, which gives me a little
advantage perhaps, and I talk to him quite as a comrade.
It is true that he has never had any love affairs
with women, and they joke him about it. Albert
does not disguise it. ’I shall always be
as I am,’ he says, ‘until I really love.’”
“But he is in love now.”
The Princess saw that the Duke enjoyed seeing her
hesitation before answering. So she said nothing
at all, but held out her hand; which he kissed respectfully
and went his way.
Esperance had returned home quite furious with the
manner of the Duke de Morlay-La-Branche, which she
considered insolent. She had passed a bad night,
waking every few moments. She compared the dignified
and honourable affection of the Count with the offensive
attitude of the Duke. Her thoughts flew to Madame
Styvens as to a refuge. She was possessed of
great tenderness towards this charming woman, whose
life of purity and goodness won the admiration of
all who knew her. On her side there was no doubt
that the Countess loved the young girl, but although
she did not cherish the narrow and false ideas of many
of her friends against the theatre, she would have
preferred to have Esperance give up her career....
General Van Berger, who always spoke his mind to her,
reprimanded her severely on this point.
“It is impossible,” he affirmed, “to
let things go any further. Albert cannot marry
an actress. I realize that the Darbois family
is very respectable; the young girl seems to me above
reproach or criticism, but she must give up this career.
The Countess Styvens is not for the public eye, and
if she loves him....”
“But she does not love him.”
Van Berger was silenced for a moment. “What
do you say? She does not love him. And you
approve of such a union?”
“My son loves her so deeply, and knowing him
as you do, you can not doubt the fidelity of his affection.
Esperance is touched, flattered even, but she does
not want to give up her profession; she would rather,
I believe, remain single, or at any rate only marry
a man who would allow her to continue her artistic
life. If I refuse my consent to the question
my son will no doubt soon ask me, he will not insist;
but will enter a Chartist monastery. He has a
friend, a Chartist in France, whom he visits often.
I shall lose my child forever, and my sad life will
end in tears.”
