Part 44 (1/2)
CHAPTER XLV
THE NECESSITIES OF CONDITION
All through the long illness of Cyrene, which followed the revolt at Eaux Tranquilles, and especially after her first grief for the misguided men who had fallen in the corridor, her heart dwelt with great intensity on the destruction of her hope of a home. She recurred to it again and again in her conversations with him, until he ventured to mention to her the offer once made to him by Liancourt of the position of Commandant of the cadet school on his estates.
”Could you retire thither,” said he, looking into her eyes with emotion, ”away for ever from your friends, away from your rank, from the Court, and all that is so brilliant and belongs to you, to live your life along with a man of humble birth wholly unworthy of you? You speak of a quiet hearth and of abandonment of the world, but could you make a sacrifice so great as this?”
”Germain, love, do you not know me yet?” she answered, returning him a look of affection which profoundly troubled him. He knelt and kissed her hand in silence. ”Is not love life itself?” she said, rising with difficulty from her arm-chair. ”Let us go without delay and obtain permission,” and, taking his hand, led him with steps slow and pitiably uncertain into the presence of the Marechale.
Madame was seated alone, mumbling to the count of her rosary, but on their appearance dropped it in her lap and resumed her usual bearing of dignity.
”Grand-aunt,” began the Baroness, ”we have a great boon to ask of you.”
”What is it, Baroness?” she said.
”Grand-aunt,” Cyrene repeated falteringly, ”have you ever known what it is to love?”
The question astonished Madame l'Etiquette. For a moment it seemed as if a slight mounting of the blood to her wrinkled cheeks was visible. In the next her features resumed their stiffness, and she answered, ”Tus.h.!.+
that is the business of citizenesses.”
”You too have had your dream; I have heard of it,” Cyrene persisted.
”Women are women, whatever their sphere.”
”Say illusion, perhaps, not dream; but the subject must cease. What do you want of me after this very _malapropos_ preface?”
”I ask you to consent to our immediate marriage,” Cyrene said with desperate directness, and tremblingly taking the chair which Germain proffered, sat down with white face, watching Madame de Noailles anxiously.
The latter did not reply.
”Grand-aunt,” pled the young woman, ”you have felt like us in your day, the longing for a home, a sweet refuge from the wretchedness of life.
You had a lover to make you feel how sweet it might have been.”
”Get these silly ideas out of your head,” responded Madame l'Etiquette, ignoring Lecour, but speaking in a not unkindly manner. ”Your rank demands an _establishment_, not a home. Monsieur understands that his position and yours are very different, and that two things at least are necessary in order to make your marriage possible--his standing as a Bodyguard, and a complete establishment. The riotous condition of his province makes the latter very dubious. You understand this, Monsieur de Lincy?”
”It must be admitted, Madame la Marechale,” Lecour said sorrowfully.
”You have some sense, I observe.”
”But I can live without an establishment. A position is open to Germain in the provinces as Commandant of a school,” Cyrene exclaimed.
Madame uttered an exclamation so energetic, and she rose so fiercely from her chair that Cyrene stopped in dismay.
”Saints of heaven!” went on the Marechale, ”is the family on the brink of a catastrophe? Can the Noailles, the Court, and the Crown afford to allow a Montmorency to annihilate herself? How dare you, forgetful of your relatives, your position, your descent from a hundred kings, advance such a proposal to the Chief Lady of Honour. I am something, Madame, and I intend to be considered, and to see that your family shall be considered. A pretty idea this, of rustic innocence and rural retirement, of straw bonnets and shepherding, of the new school to which you belong and who are the enemies of everything permanent. You are destroying customs to make way for theories, manners for boon comrades.h.i.+p, chivalry for finance, elegance for vulgarity, religion for atheism, and character for sentiment. You are to blame for all the present disorders, and such as you have brought about the burning of your own chateau. No, Madame, I will not permit the marriage. How dare you propose it to her, sir?”
Lecour said nothing. He could not.
Cyrene continued bravely.