The Idol of Paris

Fran?ois Darbois had great difficulty in constraining himself to remain in the noisy vestibule. He suffered too acutely at seeing his daughter, that pure and delicate child, the focus of ever

not been one offensive

his arms, pressed close against his

you on the stage, dear little daughter. It is too painful for m

n me, it is such a force that impels me. I am sorr

efore her father, sobbi

nd his exuberance was dashed to the ground whe

ness," he said, helpin

this child away to compose herself, wash the tears off her

the hostess, and disappeared to see if

one of those creatures who are only born once in a hundred years or so; some come as preservers, like Joan of Arc; others serve as instruments of vengeance of some occult power" (Sardou was an ardent believer in the occult). "Your child is a force of nature, and nothing can prevent her destiny. The fact that you have seen her brilliant development in spite of the grey environment of her first six

Mademoiselle. Her father held out his arms to her and wh

st her beautiful pure forehead to avoid the em

instructive, drawn from his manifold sources of knowledge in art or science. Mlle. Frahender was stupified by so much eclecticism, the philosopher forgot his grief, Madame Darbois realized for the first time that there might exist a brain worthy of comparis

trances that she would find it fatiguing. The modesty and simplicity of her return to

ed a sharp young person, who was destined to

ness, in spite of his twenty-three years, pressed Jean Perliez's hand af

n ever. He had waited for her at the foot of the stairway, for the intimacy of th

she exclaimed at sight of him

atter with me?

with him?" echoed se

nothing. He realized the shock that it would be to Esperance. She liked him so much as a friend! On the long walks they took, with Genevieve H

," she would say, "and I w

ing a barrister, as his father had always wished him to do, but that

loved her, but Maurice's love was more selfish, less deeply rooted. He was not jealous of Perliez; he wa

he is really too yo

ld outdo me by the logic of her reasoning on the mysteries of religion. We both adore, my dear Jean, a very extraordinary little person. I will get out of

yal of the senses. She thought that love was the natural result of marriage. The great passions as the poets s