Part 28 (1/2)
In the midst of the delight of madame, at having at last to receive the brother of _cette chere Valerie_, and that brother, too, _si bel homme et brave officier, et d'une ressemblance si parfaite a la charmante soeur_, dinner was luckily announced; and the torrent-tide of madame's hospitality was cut short, by her husband's declaration that we were all, like himself, dying of hunger; and that not a word more must be spoken, touching sympathies or sentiments, until we had partaken of something nutritious _de quoi soutenir l'epuis.e.m.e.nt des emotions si dechirantes_.
Madame laughed, declared that he was _un barbare, un malheureux sans grandeur de l'ame_, and taking possession of Auguste, led him away into the dining-room: where, though she told me afterwards that she was _au comble de desespoir_ at having to sit us down to so everyday a meal, we found an excellent dinner, and spent a very pleasant hour, until coffee was served; when, with it, not a little to my surprise, nor very much to my delight, Monsieur de Chavannes made his appearance.
There was a quizzical look on Monsieur Gironac's face, and a roguish twinkle in his eye, which led me to believe that what was really a matter of surprise to me, was none to my worthy host; for the Count de Chavannes had never visited the house before, in the evening; nor, from what I had understood, was he on terms of particular intimacy with the Gironacs.
I was foolish enough to be, at first, a little put out at this; and, having manifested some slight embarra.s.sment on his first entrance, which I learned afterwards, did not escape his eye, though he was far too well-bred to show it, I made the matter worse by calling my pride to my aid, incited thereto by Madame Gironac's glance and smile at my blus.h.i.+ng confusion, and certainly in no respect contributed to the gaiety of the evening. Nothing, however, I must admit, could have been more gentlemanly or in better taste, than the whole demeanour of Monsieur de Chavannes, and I could not help feeling this, and comparing it mentally with the inferior bearing of others I had seen, even in the midst of my fit of _hauteur_ and frigidity.
He neither immediately withdrew himself on learning that my brother, whom I had not seen for many years, had but just arrived as any half-bred person would have done under the like circ.u.mstances, with an awkward apology for his presence, tending only to make every one else more awkward yet; nor made set speeches, nor foolish compliments, on a subject too important for such trifling.
He did not trouble me with any attentions, which he perceived would be at that moment distasteful, but exhibited the most marked desire to cultivate the acquaintance of Auguste, to whom he showed a degree of deference, though himself somewhat the senior, as to a military man, that flattered his _esprit de corps_, mingled with a sort of frank cordiality, which except from countryman to countryman in a foreign land, would perhaps have been a little overdone: but, under the actual circ.u.mstances, it could not have been improved.
For the short time he remained, he conversed well, and wittily; yet with a strain of fancy and feeling, blended with his wit, which rendered it singularly original and attractive; and perfectly succeeded, though I know not whether he intended it or not, in directing the attention of the company from my altered and somewhat unamiable mood.
Among other things I remember, that in the course of conversation, while tendering some civilities to Auguste, the use of his riding horses, his cabriolet, or his services in showing him some of the lions of London, he observed that Monsieur de Chatenoeuf must not consider such an offer impertinent on his part, since he believed, if our genealogy were properly traced, some sort of cousins.h.i.+p could be established; as more than one of the De Chavannes had intermarried in old times with the Chatenoeufs of Gascony, when both the families, like their native provinces, had been acting in alliance with the English Plantagenets, against the French kings of the house of Valois.
A few words were said, in connexion with this, touching the singularity of the fact, that it would seem as if England had something to do with the a.s.sociations of the two families; but I do not think the remark was made by De Chavannes, and whatever it was, it was not sufficiently pointed to be in any way offensive or annoying.
On the whole, hurt as I was in some sort by the idea which had taken hold of me, that the Gironacs, through a false and indelicate idea of advancing my welfare, were endeavouring to promote a liking between myself and the Count, I cannot deny, that the evening on the whole, was a pleasant one, and that, if at first it had been my impression that De Chavannes was agreeable, entertaining, and well-bred, I was now prepared to admit he had excellent taste, and delicate feelings into the bargain.
Still I felt that I did not like him, or perhaps I should rather say his attentions--though in fact he had paid me none--and was rather relieved when he made his bow and retired.
Shortly afterwards, Auguste observed that I seemed dull and tired, and Madame Gironac followed suit by saying that it was no wonder if the excitement and interest created by the unexpected arrival of so dear a brother had proved too much for my nerves.
Thereupon, after promising to return early in the morning, so that we might have a long talk about the past, and a long consultation about the future, Lionel and Auguste bade us good-night also; but not before Lionel had said to me as he was taking leave, ”I think, Mademoiselle, that it will be no more than proper, that I should drive down to Kew, to-morrow morning, and wait upon Judge Selwyn, who has always been so kind to me--have you any message for him?”
”Oh! yes. I beg you will tell him that Auguste has come, and that I request he will let me know when we may wait on him?--”
”And the answer will be, Mademoiselle, his waiting upon you. Is that what you desire?--”
”I only desire what I state--to know when and how we may see him, for I know very little of Auguste's heart, if he does not wish to return thanks to one who, except our dear friends here, has been poor Valerie's surest confidant and protector. But you will find the Judge's family increased since you saw him. His son has persuaded my pretty little friend, Caroline Stanhope, to become his wife, and she is living with the Judge's family at present.”
Lionel expressed his surprise and pleasure at the news, but I thought at the moment that the pleasure was not real, though I have since had reason to believe that the gravity which came over his face as he spoke, was the gravity of thought, rather than that, as I fancied at the time, of disappointment.
Nothing more pa.s.sed worthy of record, and, after shaking hands with Lionel, and kissing my long-lost brother, I was left alone with the Gironacs, half expectant of a playful scolding.
”Well, Mademoiselle Valerie de Chatenoeuf,” began Monsieur, as soon as the gentlemen had left us, ”is it because you have found out that you have got a handsome brother, that you are determined to drive all other handsome young men _au desespoir_?--or is it that you wish to break the heart especially of this _pauvre Monsieur de Chavannes_, that you have treated us all with an air _si hautaine, si hautaine_, that if you had been the Queen of France, it could not have been colder?”
”I told you once before, Monsieur Gironac,” I replied, ”that your Count de Chavannes does not care a straw how I treat him, or with what air.
And if he did, I do not.--He is simply a civil, agreeable gentleman, who looks upon me as he would upon any other young lady, whom he is glad to talk to when she is in the humour to talk; and whom, when she is not, he leaves to herself, as all well-bred men do. But, I repeat, I do not care enough about him, to think for one moment, whether he is _hautaine_ or not. And he feels just the same about me, I am certain.”
”What brings him here then, eh?--where he never came before to-night?
not for the _beaux yeux_ of Madame, I believe,” with a quizzical bow to his wife, ”or for the _grand esprit_ of myself. I have an eye, I tell you, as well as other people, and I can see one _pet.i.t peu_.”
”I have no doubt you can, Monsieur,” I answered, rather pettishly; ”for I suppose you asked him yourself; and, if you did so on my account, I must beg you will omit that proof of kindness in future, for I do not wish to see him.”
”Oh! Monsieur Gironac, for shame, you have made her very angry with your ridiculous badinage--you have made her angry, really, and I do not wonder. Who ever heard of teasing a young lady about a gentleman she has never seen, only three times, and who has never declared any preference?”
”Madame,” replied her husband, in great wrath, either real or simulated, ”_vous etes une ingrate,--une,--une_--words fail me, to express what I think of your enormous and unkind ingrat.i.tude. I am _homme incompris_, and Mademoiselle here--Mademoiselle is either _une enfant_, or she does not know her own mind. Shall I give the Comte Chavannes his conge, or shall I not? I shall not,--for if she be _une enfant_, it is fit her friends look after her; if she does not know her own mind, it is good she have some one who do!--_voila tout_. Here is why I shall not go _congedier monsieur le Comte_. Why rather I shall request him to dine with me to-morrow, the next day, the day after. If he do not, I swear by my honour, _foi de Gironac_, I will dine at home again never more.”
I could not help laughing at this tirade of the kind-hearted little man, on the strength of which he patted me on the head, and said I was _bonne enfant_, if I were not _si diablement entetee_, and bade me go to bed, and sleep myself into a better humour; a piece of advice which appeared to me _so_ judicious, that I proceeded at once to obey it, and bidding them both a kind good-night, betook myself to my own room to ponder rather than to sleep. And, in truth, I felt that I had need of reflection, for with the return of Auguste, a tide of feelings, which had long lain dormant rather than dead within me had almost overwhelmed me; and the hardness which had its origin in the bitterness of conscious dependence, and which had gained strength from the pride of self-acquired independence, began to thaw in my heart, and to give way to milder and gentler feelings.