Saint Michael

"True, the young Countess has a certain reputation for caprice. But that is the prerogative of handsome women."

"If it were caprice only, that would be nothing new: she was always capricious. But since our betrothal she has adopted a distant tone; she is perfectly unapproachable. It puts my patience to the severest test. I cannot stand it much longer."

There was extreme irritation in his tone. Clermont shrugged his shoulders. "Who of us can make his own choice? I cannot, although sooner or later I must marry, and my sister was married at sixteen to a man over fifty, Needs must."

Raoul scarcely heard the last words; he had continued to watch the door expectantly, and he suddenly started up, for it opened, and a silken train rustled across the threshold.

The lady who entered was of medium height, slender, and, although no longer in her first youth, exquisitely graceful. Her face could not be called beautiful, perhaps not even pretty, but it had an odd, piquant charm of its own. The black hair dressed in short close curls all over the head made the face look younger than it really was; there was a tender, veiled look in the dark eyes, which could, nevertheless, sparkle brilliantly, as they did now when they perceived the young Count. In vain was all attempt to analyze the charm that lay in those irregular and scarcely refined features; there it was, and when the face grew animated in conversation every line of it was interesting and brilliant.

Raoul had risen instantly and hastened towards the new-comer, whose hand he raised to his lips. "I have only a moment," he said, "but I could not help waiting for a glimpse of you, since Henri tells me you are going out."

"Oh, we need not go for half an hour yet," Frau von Nérac said, with a glance at the clock. "You see, Henri is not dressed yet."

"I must go and dress now," said Clermont. "Excuse me, Raoul; I shall be here again shortly."

He left the room, and Raoul certainly seemed nothing loath to be left to a tête-à-tête with his friend's sister. He took a seat opposite her, and in a few moments the pair were engaged in eager and lively conversation, chiefly concerning airy trifles, but gay and brilliant in the extreme. Frau von Nérac showed herself a mistress of persiflage, and the young Count was no whit her inferior in this regard. The cloud upon his brow vanished, leaving not a trace; he was in his element.

But suddenly the talk took a different turn. Raoul casually mentioned Castle Steinrück, and the name evoked a smile from Frau von Nérac that was half sarcastic, half malicious. "Ah, the castle in the mountains," said she; "Henri and I were to have made acquaintance with it, but unfortunately our visit was prevented by the indisposition of the Countess."

"My mother suffers frequently from those nervous attacks; they are very sudden, and very distressing," said Raoul, quickly overcoming his embarrassment. "They deprived her, on that occasion, of the pleasure of receiving her guests."

Frau von Nérac smiled again very sweetly and very significantly. "I am afraid that the guests were the cause of the nervous attack."

"Madame!"

"The general may have had some share in it; but we certainly were the innocent cause."

"You still visit upon me that unfortunate occurrence," Raoul said; "Henri does not; he knows how difficult is the position in which my mother and I are placed, and makes allowances."

"So do I. I persisted in going to see the Countess, although we were obliged to confine ourselves to the merest call, since the general did not feel called upon to renew the invitation. His Excellency seems to be a very absolute monarch, and he certainly has a very obedient grandson."

"What can I do but obey!" exclaimed Raoul, with suppressed impatience. "My mother is right: she and I are both subject to an iron will that is wont recklessly to bend everything beneath it and to break what will not bend. If you knew how humiliating it is to be lectured, examined, hectored like a boy! I have had enough, and more than enough, of it all!"

He had started up in his agitation, whilst Frau von Nérac, leaning back gracefully in her chair, toyed with her fan, and now rejoined, very calmly, "Well, all that will end with your marriage."

"Yes,–with my marriage," the Count slowly repeated.

"How tragic that sounds! Take care that the Countess Hertha does not hear you speak in that tone; she might resent it."

Raoul did not reply, but went up to where the lady was sitting, and bent over her: "Héloïse!"

The word sounded half reproachful, half entreating, but was apparently not understood, for she looked up at the speaker as though in surprise. "Well?"

"You best know what this marriage is to me. I have been hurried into it, over-persuaded by my mother, and I feel it to be a fetter even before it has taken place."

"And yet it will take place."

"That is the question."

There was a flash as of lightning in Héloïse's dark eyes; then her eyelashes drooped, and, as she seemed to examine the picture on her fan, she said, in a careless tone, "Would you attempt a rebellion? It would raise a tempest indeed, and would call down upon you supreme displeasure."

"What should I care, if I could but hope for a certain prize? For its sake I would defy my grandfather's anger. I thought I should be able to overcome–to forget–when Hertha should be my betrothed. I saw you again, Héloïse, and I knew that the old spell was still around me, and would always hold me fast. You are silent? Have you no word of reply for me?"

His eyes sought and found hers; her glance was veiled and tender, and her voice was as tender as she said, softly, "You are a fool, Raoul!"

"Do you call it folly to desire happiness?" he exclaimed. "You are a widow, Héloïse, you are free, and if–"

He could not finish his sentence, for the door opened rather noisily and Clermont entered. The intruder did not seem to notice his friend's start, or the annoyed glance which his sister bestowed upon him, but called out, gayly, "Here I am! Now we can have a quarter of an hour together, Raoul."

The young Count's face betrayed his annoyance at this interruption, and, in the worst possible humour, he replied, "Unfortunately, I have no more time. I told you I had but a minute. Madame–"

He turned to Héloïse, and would apparently have addressed a question to her in an undertone, but Clermont suddenly interposed between them, and, laying his hand lightly upon his sister's arm, said, not without a certain significance, "If you are really in such a hurry we will not detain you, eh, Héloïse? Until tomorrow, then."

"Until to-morrow," Raoul repeated, grasping his hand hurriedly. He was evidently not inclined to make a confidant of his friend, but took his leave in no very satisfied mood.

Scarcely had the door closed after him, when the young widow turned to her brother with a very ungracious air: "You came most inopportunely, Henri."

"So I perceived," he replied, calmly; "but I thought it high time to put an end to the scene, which you were inclined to take seriously."

Héloïse tossed her head defiantly. "And if I were? Would you interfere to prevent it?"

"No; but I should explain to you that you were inclined to commit an act of supreme folly, and I trust nothing more would be required to bring you to reason."

"Do you think so? You may be mistaken," she said, exultingly. "You underestimate my power over Raoul. I have but to speak the word, and he will dissolve his betrothal and defy his family."

"And what then?"

The cool direct question put an end to the young widow's triumphant tone; she looked in surprise at her brother, who continued, very composedly: "You know the general. Do you suppose that he ever would forgive such a step, that he would ever consent to Raoul's marrying you? And Raoul cannot marry against his will, for he is entirely dependent upon him."

"He is his grandfather's heir, and the general is over seventy–"

"And has a constitution of iron," Clermont interposed. "He may live ten years longer, and you are scarcely so infatuated as to suppose that Raoul's passion or your own youth will last so long. You are full five years older than he."

Frau von Nérac folded her fan hastily and noisily. "Henri, you go almost too far!"

"I am sorry, but I cannot spare you. You cannot reckon upon the future; therefore you must comprehend the present. In a few years there will be no choice left you."

Héloïse made no reply, but her air was one of intense irritation. Evidently she felt outraged, but Clermont coolly continued: "And even supposing that Raoul should enter very shortly upon his inheritance, he would still be no fitting match for you. The general's salary enables him to live with a degree of elegance, but his grandson inherits nothing of that. Castle Steinrück is an article of luxury; it probably costs a yearly outlay; it certainly brings in nothing, and all the available property of the family belongs to the South German branch. The North German cousins all have very good reasons for entering either the army or the civil service. Their estates would, to be sure, be sufficient for the support of a country nobleman who, with his family, could consent to live upon his own soil and occupy himself with agriculture. But for you and Raoul,–the idea is ridiculous. Moreover, I am especially anxious that Raoul should remain at present upon good terms with his grandfather; through him alone can we know aught of the Steinrück establishment."

"You might do that much more easily through the Marquis de Montigny," said Héloïse, still irritated. "He has just been attached to our embassy here, and of course goes to his sister's very frequently."

"Certainly; but you are much mistaken if you imagine that the haughty Montigny would lend himself to such matters. He already treats me with a careless indifference that sometimes makes my blood boil. He would sacrifice his position rather than condescend– But enough of this! I fancy you now comprehend that Raoul's circumstances could never adapt themselves to your requirements; what those requirements are you proved with sufficient clearness during Nérac's lifetime."

"Was it my fault that he squandered his entire fortune?"

"You certainly helped him honestly in doing so; but we will not discuss that. The fact is that we are without means, and that you are forced to make a brilliant marriage. Your romance with Raoul must be nothing but a romance, and you would be very unwise to induce him to break with his betrothed. As long as the general lives, a marriage between you is an impossibility; after that it would be a folly. Remember this, and be reasonable."

"What is it?" asked the young widow, turning impatiently towards the servant, who brought her a card. "We are just going out, and can receive no visitors."