Henry Bordeaux

“ M. Mairieux explained to me. “When it stands alone we see its trunk short, stumpy and gnarled, its roots cramped in the soil, its foliage growing close to the ground and its summit bare, as if it had rolled itself up to resist the wind; but in the company of others it reveals a smooth, round shaft, bare of branches until far up, while at the top they form a thick and symmetrical group. But this elegance, this dash, this grace, I was about to say this politeness, does not preclude the competition which is the law of nature. ”

“ John Lateran, a quiet corner, where one inhales with the perfume of roses the unchanging charm of Rome. We were there alone one sunny afternoon. The recollection of the roses growing among the palms in the little central garden about the wall fixes the time for me as again the beginning of Spring, doubtless a short time before our departure. She was at a little distance from me, standing between two of those slender columns which support the cloister and seem as transparent as alabaster in the sunlight. She was dressed in white; she smiled. I have never since seen so perfect an image of peace. ”

“ Together we rode through the neighbouring woods, both those of the estate, which covered close to a hundred acres, and which I, as the proprietor, explored with delight, and those of Sylve-Benite, which were more extensive and more broken.
The dead leaves amassed by the winter in the roads are soft under horses’ feet, and we rode along noiselessly. As if by magic the returning verdure covered all the branches of the trees. The forest, which seems boundless when it is bare, now enclosed us, embraced us, and hemmed us in with a jealous love. ”

“ She pictured it as an image of our happiness that we should see grow, whose youth, one day, should prolong ours in its decline. She smiled as she thought of him and saw him. These first maternal smiles, bestowed on one who does not yet exist, seem to give a woman the sweetness, freshness and purity of a young girl again. Barren love is ignorant of many forms of beauty. The madonnas have a deeper beauty, but not less innocent, not less melodious than the young maid who carries in herself the Springtime. ”

“ The trees still retained their foliage, but the colours changed from day to day, a marvel to behold. The leaves of the lindens became a pale yellow, those of the oaks, at first a red copper, later that colour of rust which they keep all winter, for they do not fall: shrivelled, hardened, and curled up they cling to the branches until the new growth comes in the spring and flings them down.
“They are like those feelings,” I said to Raymonde, “which remain in the heart even after they are dead, and which only a new passion has the power to drive away.” ”

“ The friends whom I favoured or neglected at will were flatterers and parasites whom one picked up in abundance in the resorts of pleasure. If the women that I selected did not treat me with cruelty, the very nature of their choice would have prevented me from deriving any pride from it, if it had not been for the ridiculous admiration that I openly professed for myself. Crude and headstrong, what a foolish creature a young man is before he has been flayed by the plane of suffering, of compelling ambition or by love! ”

“ I could sooner have believed that Raymonde was mad.
When at last she understood, I saw the colour leave her face. She swung for a second like a boat on the sea when the wind rises, and then she fled at full speed through the open door of the ante-chamber.
I scarcely heard her light tread as she descended the stairs, but I saw her cross the court without slackening her speed. In the same way two years before she had run away at the Green Fountain. Was it even then on account of my love? ”

“ But these first smiles, whose charm I understand so well now, I questioned then, as I remember, in jealousy, not in admiration. So new were they to me that I did not know how to gather them. Thus we permit the simple emotions that are the ornament of life to escape from it because we seek our happiness in ourselves instead of finding it on the faces of others. While I made our love complicated by trying to confine it to my personal satisfactions, Raymonde gave to it quite naturally her primitive capacity for acceptation, her radiance, her creative splendour. ”

“ My private life was not a secret, in a world where every one knows every one’s else remissness and finds self-justification in it, or, if necessary, material for revenge. But why did Mme. de H— seek a demonstration which might so easily have been avoided? Accustomed to publicity, and having won great popularity, she had every possible advantage over Raymonde, whose timidity, interpreted as disdain, had not made her a favourite. But in that salon, as when hunting in a forest, one lay in wait for death and inhaled an odour of blood. ”

“ That is the whole art of conversation.”
She hesitated: I saw her lips open and tremble a little. She shook her head, and then suddenly made up her mind:
“Do you remember going into a little chapel one evening?”
“Yes, with you.”
“A dark chapel, lighted only by the altar lamp? It seems to me that one’s heart is like that.”
“One’s heart?”
“Yes, the heart is in darkness, unknown. But the lamp which shines in the sanctuary is our love. It is there, watching and praying. To love is to understand oneself more clearly, to take one’s impulses and thoughts out of the shadow. ”

“ Oftentimes a hare crossed the avenue in front of us with little bounds.
Yes, these strolls would have been exquisite but for the skill I employed to spoil them! As I had tormented Raymonde about her parents, so now I tormented her about the hope that filled her with a joy that was all but sacred. She saw in it the continuation of our cherished love, the palpable thrill of our union, the living bond of our united bodies and souls. I saw only the inconvenience, and I showed my irritation and nervousness over it. ”

“ Ah, how I pity those who become engaged, who marry, in the city! Does not everything urge them to set bounds to a love which they must keep, as it were, on a leash, in the streets, must protect incessantly in the midst of acquaintances, difficulties and embarrassments? My own and Raymonde’s love blossomed forth in freedom.
We had resumed our horseback rides, and sometimes M. Mairieux accompanied us, sometimes he entrusted his daughter to me, when he would follow us with his eyes for several moments before he returned to his office or his work outdoors. ”

“ The bad grain in our hearts is still more prompt to spring up.
Nevertheless, I was irritated with myself. My discontent gave me a sort of fever, a need of activity and distraction, added to my taste for society and the wicked fascinations of Mme. de H—. What loyalty and wholesome tenderness remained in me thus took sides, while it disturbed me, with my basest instincts, to push me the faster toward the abyss. Only some miraculous intervention could have saved me. Raymonde, who knew it, after having tried suffering in vain, gave her life that the miracle might come to pass. ”

“ Cernay’s seclusion led me to frequent the park with the steward and Dilette. M. Mairieux, little by little, as he watched the child skipping ahead and then running back to us like a young greyhound travelling over the same road two or three times, fell into the habit of conjuring up before me an earlier childhood, that of his daughter. He never spoke to me of Mme. Cernay, but constantly of little Raymonde. I learned every detail of her life up to the age of fourteen or fifteen. Beyond that there was silence. ”

“ The laughter of a little girl is the dew which refreshes our years. A child who does not laugh seems to be reproaching the one who gave it life.”
On this topic he was never silent; now, it was Raymonde’s inborn love for all things, or again, of her running along the forest paths and her abrupt halts, as if she saw some one coming, her charming combination of trust and fear. ”

“ She was ignorant of the very existence of those sensations, those flirtations, those trivial love affairs, which, weak emotions though they are, mere forerunners to true love, are yet sufficient to tarnish the heart of a young girl, to put upon it a useless stigma before life has really begun. But those women who preserve themselves unsullied even in their inmost thoughts, who cross their pure hands upon their breasts as though to guard the tabernacle of their future and only love—what husband can ever merit the absolute surrender that they will some day make to him? ”

“ How touching she is in her surprise, her modesty and embarrassment! She crosses her hands upon her breast, as if to hold in check a heart that would leap from its resting place. She cannot refuse so high an honour, yet she feels herself unworthy; she is happy; and yielding under the burden of divine love she offers to God her readiness to endure the suffering that is to come. ”

“ Of what use were receptions, beautiful gowns, enticing conversation and the arts of coquetry, if not to call forth the very thing she had resented! Could she not have let Pierre Ducal know in a quiet, forceful manner that his advances annoyed her, without going to the extreme limit of causing a break in our friendship? Surely a woman’s greatest asset is the use of all her weapons of charm and fascination to the best possible advantage. What to Raymonde constituted an irreparable injury was to me only a source of great annoyance. ”

“ To young girls who have not squandered their imagination in precocious little flirtations, love is like a garden in springtime before the dawn. The flowers are there, all the flowers. We do not realise it, although we inhale their perfume, because it is so incredible. Thus, enclosed within the heart, the magic enchantment sleeps, invisible. Day breaks, and with it all the world seems to be born. But the love which shines forth was always there.
* * *
The next day I had my turn.
Mme. Mairieux watched for my arrival. It was she who opened the door for me, and from her I learned of my happiness. ”

“ As soon as Raymonde gained her self-control she stepped forward and heroically extended her hand to Mme. de H—. As she did so, the picture of it all impressed itself on my mind: her beautiful profile looked like an alabaster bas-relief of a saint, with a halo about her head. But this fleeting image quickly faded from my mind in the contemplation of the simplicity of the situation which I had feared would be so complex.
“She knows nothing,” I assured myself, “how could she know? One always unnecessarily exaggerates the importance of things which do not happen and never will. ”

“ After a prolonged silence, in which there was no harmony of spirit, I determined to show my generosity, and turned to my parents-in-law.
“It is understood,” I said, “that whether or not we are here, you will live in the chateau. I do not wish you to remain in this little lodge.”
Mme. Mairieux broke into loud protestations of gratitude. Evidently I was making real one of her dreams. She had always wished to live in state, with dignity and ceremony, a troupe of servants, a continual round of visits, much publicity. A certain childishness lent to her ambition a touch of prettiness. ”