a woman of thirty-第33章

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　rooms　to　ourselves；　and　there　will　be　no　more　noise。　How　do　you　feel　this　morning？　Are　you　tired？〃

As　she　spoke；　the　Marquise　rose　and　went　to　Moina's　bedside。

〃Let　us　see；〃　she　said；　feeling　for　the　girl's　hand。

〃Oh！　let　me　alone；　mother；〃　said　Moina；　〃your　fingers　are　cold。〃

She　turned　her　head　round　on　the　pillow　as　she　spoke；　pettishly；　but　with　such　engaging　grace；　that　a　mother　could　scarcely　have　taken　it　amiss。　Just　then　a　wailing　cry　echoed　through　the　next　room；　a　faint　prolonged　cry；　that　must　surely　have　gone　to　the　heart　of　any　woman　who　heard　it。

〃Why；　if　you　heard　/that/　all　night　long；　why　did　you　not　wake　me？　We　should　have〃

A　deeper　moan　than　any　that　had　gone　before　it　interrupted　the　Marquise。

〃Some　one　is　dying　there；〃　she　cried；　and　hurried　out　of　the　room。

〃Send　Pauline　to　me！〃　called　Moina。　〃I　shall　get　up　and　dress。〃

The　Marquise　hastened　downstairs；　and　found　the　landlady　in　the　courtyard　with　a　little　group　about　her；　apparently　much　interested　in　something　that　she　was　telling　them。

〃Madame；　you　have　put　some　one　in　the　next　room　who　seems　to　be　very　ill　indeed〃

〃Oh！　don't　talk　to　me　about　it！〃　cried　the　mistress　of　the　house。　〃I　have　just　sent　some　one　for　the　mayor。　Just　imagine　it；　it　is　a　woman；　a　poor　unfortunate　creature　that　came　here　last　night　on　foot。　She　comes　from　Spain；　she　has　no　passport　and　no　money；　she　was　carrying　her　baby　on　her　back；　and　the　child　was　dying。　I　could　not　refuse　to　take　her　in。　I　went　up　to　see　her　this　morning　myself；　for　when　she　turned　up　yesterday；　it　made　me　feel　dreadfully　bad　to　look　at　her。　Poor　soul！　she　and　the　child　were　lying　in　bed；　and　both　of　them　at　death's　door。　'Madame；'　says　she；　pulling　a　gold　ring　off　her　finger；　'this　is　all　that　I　have　left；　take　it　in　payment；　it　will　be　enough；　I　shall　not　stay　here　long。　Poor　little　one！　we　shall　die　together　soon！'　she　said；　looking　at　the　child。　I　took　her　ring；　and　I　asked　her　who　she　was；　but　she　never　would　tell　me　her　name。　。　。　。　I　have　just　sent　for　the　doctor　and　M。　le　Maire。〃

〃Why；　you　must　do　all　that　can　be　done　for　her；〃　cried　the　Marquise。　〃Good　heavens！　perhaps　it　is　not　too　late！　I　will　pay　for　everything　that　is　necessary〃

〃Ah！　my　lady；　she　looks　to　me　uncommonly　proud；　and　I　don't　know　that　she　would　allow　it。〃

〃I　will　go　to　see　her　at　once。〃

The　Marquise　went　up　forthwith　to　the　stranger's　room；　without　thinking　of　the　shock　that　the　sight　of　her　widow's　weeds　might　give　to　a　woman　who　was　said　to　be　dying。　At　the　sight　of　that　dying　woman　the　Marquise　turned　pale。　In　spite　of　the　changes　wrought　by　fearful　suffering　in　Helene's　beautiful　face；　she　recognized　her　eldest　daughter。

But　Helene；　when　she　saw　a　woman　dressed　in　black；　sat　upright　in　bed　with　a　shriek　of　horror。　Then　she　sank　back；　she　knew　her　mother。

〃My　daughter；〃　said　Mme。　d'Aiglemont；　〃what　is　to　be　done？　　Pauline！　。　。　。　Moina！　。　。　。〃

〃Nothing　now　for　me；〃　said　Helene　faintly。　〃I　had　hoped　to　see　my　father　once　more；　but　your　mourning〃　she　broke　off；　clutched　her　child　to　her　heart　as　if　to　give　it　warmth；　and　kissed　its　forehead。　Then　she　turned　her　eyes　on　her　mother；　and　the　Marquise　met　the　old　reproach　in　them；　tempered　with　forgiveness；　it　is　true；　but　still　reproach。　She　saw　it；　and　would　not　see　it。　She　forgot　that　Helene　was　the　child　conceived　amid　tears　and　despair；　the　child　of　duty；　the　cause　of　one　of　the　greatest　sorrows　in　her　life。　She　stole　to　her　eldest　daughter's　side；　remembering　nothing　but　that　Helene　was　her　firstborn；　the　child　who　had　taught　her　to　know　the　joys　of　motherhood。　The　mother's　eyes　were　full　of　tears。　〃Helene；　my　child！　。　。　。〃　she　cried；　with　her　arms　about　her　daughter。

Helene　was　silent。　Her　own　babe　had　just　drawn　its　last　breath　on　her　breast。

Moina　came　into　the　room　with　Pauline；　her　maid；　and　the　landlady　and　the　doctor。　The　Marquise　was　holding　her　daughter's　ice…cold　hand　in　both　of　hers；　and　gazing　at　her　in　despair；　but　the　widowed　woman；　who　had　escaped　shipwreck　with　but　one　of　all　her　fair　band　of　children；　spoke　in　a　voice　that　was　dreadful　to　hear。　〃All　this　is　your　work；〃　she　said。　〃If　you　had　but　been　for　me　all　that〃

〃Moina；　go！　Go　out　of　the　room；　all　of　you！〃　cried　Mme。　d'Aiglemont；　her　shrill　tones　drowning　Helene's　voice。〃For　pity's　sake；〃　she　continued；　〃let　us　not　begin　these　miserable　quarrels　again　now〃

〃I　will　be　silent；〃　Helene　answered　with　a　preternatural　effort。　〃I　am　a　mother；　I　know　that　Moina　ought　not　。　。　。　Where　is　my　child？〃

Moina　came　back；　impelled　by　curiosity。

〃Sister；〃　said　the　spoiled　child；　〃the　doctor〃

〃It　is　all　of　no　use；〃　said　Helene。　〃Oh！　why　did　I　not　die　as　a　girl　of　sixteen　when　I　meant　to　take　my　own　life？　There　is　no　happiness　outside　the　laws。　Moina　。　。　。　you　。　。　。〃

Her　head　sank　till　her　face　lay　against　the　face　of　the　little　one；　in　her　agony　she　strained　her　babe　to　her　breast；　and　died。

〃Your　sister；　Moina；〃　said　Mme。　d'Aiglemont；　bursting　into　tears　when　she　reached　her　room；　〃your　sister　meant　no　doubt　to　tell　you　that　a　girl　will　never　find　happiness　in　a　romantic　life；　in　living　as　nobody　else　does；　and；　above　all　things；　far　away　from　her　mother。〃



VI。

THE　OLD　AGE　OF　A　GUILTY　MOTHER

It　was　one　of　the　earliest　June　days　of　the　year　1844。　A　lady　of　fifty　or　thereabouts；　for　she　looked　older　than　her　actual　age；　was　pacing　up　and　down　one　of　the　sunny　paths　in　the　garden　of　a　great　mansion　in　the　Rue　Plument　in　Paris。　It　was　noon。　The　lady　took　two　or　three　turns　along　the　gently　winding　garden　walk；　careful　never　to　lose　sight　of　a　certain　row　of　windows；　to　which　she　seemed　to　give　her　whole　attention；　then　she　sat　down　on　a　bench；　a　piece　of　elegant　semi…rusticity　made　of　branches　with　the　bark　left　on　the　wood。　From　the　place　where　she　sat　she　could　look　through　the　garden　railings　along　the　inner　boulevards　to　the　wonderful　dome　of　the　Invalides　rising　above　the　crests　of　a　forest　of　elm…trees；　and　see　the　less　striking　view　of　her　own　grounds　terminating　in　the　gray　stone　front　of　one　of　the　finest　hotels　in　the　Faubourg　Saint…Germain。

Silence　lay　over　the　neighboring　gardens；　and　the　boulevards　stretching　away　to　the　Invalides。　Day　scarcely　begins　at　noon　in　that　aristocratic　quarter；　and　masters　and　servants　are　all　alike　asleep；　or　just　awakening；　unless　some　young　lady　takes　it　into　her　head　to　go　for　an　early　ride；　or　a　gray…headed　diplomatist　rises　betimes　to　redraft　a　protocol。

The　elderly　lady　stirring　abroad　at　that　hour　was　the　Marquise　d'Aiglemont；　the　mother　of　Mme。　de　Saint…Hereen；　to　whom　the　great　house　belonged。　The　Marquise　had　made　over　the　mansion　and　almost　her　whole　fortune　to　her　daughter；　reserving　only　an　annuity　for　herself。

The　Comtesse　Moina　de　Saint…Hereen　was　Mme。　d'Aiglemont's　youngest　child。　The　Marquise　had　made　every　sacrifice　to　marry　her　daughter　to　the　eldest　son　of　one　of　the　greatest　houses　of　France；　and　this　was　only　what　might　have　been　expected；　for　the　lady　had　lost　her　sons；　first　one　and　then　the　other。　Gustave；　Marquis　d'Aiglemont；　had　died　of　the　cholera；　Abel；　the　second；　had　fallen　in　Algeria。　Gustave　had　left　a　widow　and　children；　but　the　dowager's　affection　for　her　sons　had　been　only　moderately　warm；　and　for　the　next　generation　it　was　decidedly　tepid。　She　was　always　civil　to　her　daughter…in…law；　but　her　feeling　towards　the　young　Marquise　was　the　distinctly　conventional　affection　which　good　taste　and　good　manners　require　us　to　feel　for　our　relatives。　The　fortunes　of　her　dead　children　having　been　settled；　she　could　devote　her　savings　and　her　own　property　to　her　darling　Moina。

Moina；　beautiful　and　fascinating　from　childhood；　was　Mme。　d'Aiglemont's　favorite；　loved　beyond　all　the　others　with　an　instinctive　or　involuntary　love；　a　fatal　drawing　of　the　heart；　which　sometimes　seems　inexplicable；　sometimes；　and　to　a　close　observer；　only　too　easy　to　explain。　Her　darling's　pretty　face；　the　sound　of　Moina's　voice；　her　ways；　her　manner；　her　looks　and　gestures；　roused　all　the　deepest　emotions　that　can　stir　a　mother's　heart　with　trouble；　rapture；　or　delight。　The　springs　of　the　Marquise's　life；　of　yesterday；　to…morrow；　and　to…day；　lay　in　that　young　heart。　Moina；　with　better　fortune；　had　survived　four　older　children。　As　a　matter　of　fact；　Mme。　d'Aiglemont　had　lost　her　eldest　daughter；　a　charming　girl；　in　a　most　unfortunate　manner；　said　gossip；　nobody　knew　exactly　what　became　of　her；　and　then　she　lost　a　little　boy　of　five　by　a　dreadful　accident。

The　child　of　her　affections　had；　however；　been　spared　to　her；　and　doubtless　the　Marquise　saw　the　will　of　Heaven　in　that　fact；　for　those　who　had　died；　she　kept　but　very　shadowy　recollections　in　some　far…off　corner　of　her　heart；　her　memories　of　her　dead　children　were　like　the　headstones　on　a　battlefield；　you　can　scarcely　see　them　for　the　flowers　that　have　sprung　up　about　them　since。　Of　course；　if　the　world　had　chosen；　it　might　have　said　some　hard　truths　about　the　Marquise；　might　have　taken　her　to　task　for　shallowness　and　an　overweening　preference　for　one　child　at　the　expense　of　the　rest；　but　the　world　of　Paris　is　swept　along　by　the　full　flood　of　new　events；　new　ideas；　and　new　fashions；　and　it　was　inevitable　the　Mme。　d'Aiglemont　should　be　in　some　sort　allowed　to　drop　out　of　sight。　So　nobody　thought　of　blaming　her　for　coldness　or　neglect　which　concerned　no　one；　whereas　her　quick；　apprehensive　tenderness　for　Moina　was　found　highly　interesting　by　not　a　few　who　respected　it　as　a　sort　of　superstition。　Besides；　the　Marquise　scarcely　went　into　society　at　all；　and　the　few　families　who　knew　her　thought　of　her　as　a　kindly；　gentle；　indulgent　woman；　wholly　devoted　to　her　family。　What　but　a　curiosity；　keen　indeed；　would　seek　to　pry　beneath　the　surface　with　which　the　world　is　quite　satisfied？　And　what　would　we　not　pardon　to　old　people；　if　only　they　will　efface　themselves　like　shadows；　and　consent　to　be　regarded　as　memories　and　nothing　more！

Indeed；　Mme。　d'Aiglemont　became　a　kind　of　example　complacently　held　up　by　the　younger　generation　to　fathers　of　families；　and　frequently　cited　to　mothers…in…law。　She　had　made　over　her　property　to　Moina　in　her　own　lifetime；　the　young　Countess'　happiness　was　enough　for　her；　she　only　lived　in　her　daughter。　If　some　cautious　old　person　or　morose　uncle　here　and　there　condemned　the　course　with〃Perhaps　Mme。　d'Aiglemont　may　be　sorry　some　day　that　she　gave　up　her　fortune　to　her　daughter；　she　may　be　sure　of　Moina；　but　how　can　she　be　equally　sure　of　her　son…　in…law？〃these　prophets　were　cried　down　on　all　sides；　and　from　all　sides　a　chorus　of　praise　went　up　for　Moina。

〃It　ought　to　be　said；　in　justice　to　Mme。　de　Saint…Hereen；　that　her　mother　cannot　feel　the　slightest　difference；〃　remarked　a　young　married　woman。　〃Mme。　d'Aiglemont　is　admirably　well　housed。　She　has　a　carriage　at　her　disposal；　and　can　go　everywhere　just　as　she　used　to　do〃

〃Except　to　the　Italiens；〃　remarked　a　low　voice。　（This　was　an　elderly　parasite；　one　of　those　persons　who　show　their　independenceas　they　thinkby　riddling　their　friends　with　epigrams。）　〃Except　to　the　Italiens。　And　if　the　dowager　cares　for　anything　on　this　earth　but　her　daughterit　is　music。　Such　a　good　performer　she　was　in　her　time！　But　the　Countess'　box　is　always　full　of　young　butterflies；　and　the　Countess'　mother　wo