The Secrets of the Princesse de Cadignan

d that they would bring him to dine with her. This promise might have proved rash had it not been fo

e of those authors who, sooner or later, are put in their right place, and never lose it. A poor nobleman, he had understood his epoch well enough to seek personal distinction only. He had struggled long in the Parisian arena, against the wishes of a rich uncle who, by a contradiction which vanity must explain, after leaving his nephew a prey to the utmost penur

ez, Bianchon, and other friends of Michel Chrestien for the removal of the body of that republican to the church of Saint-Merri for the purpose of giving it funeral honors. Gratitude for a service which contrasted with the administrative rigor displayed at a time when political passions were so violent, had bound, so to speak, d'Arthez to Rastignac. Th

s, to those deep strategists who are always beaten on unexpected ground, where their scientific axioms are either modified or contradicted. In character he still remains a simple-hearted child, all the while proving himself an observer of the first rank. This contrast, apparently impossible, is explainable to those who know how to measure the depths which separate faculties from feelings; the former proceed from the head, the latter from the heart. A man can be a great man and a wicke

n, peasants into countesses; the more accomplished a woman was, the more she lost her value in their eyes, for, according to Michel, their imagination had the less to do. In his opinion love, a mere matter of the senses to inferior beings, was to great souls the most immense of all moral creations and the most binding. To justify d'Arthez, he instanced the example of Raffaele and the Fornarina. He might have offered himself as an instance for this theory, he who had seen an angel in the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse. This strange fanc

ions; he had a fine fortune, and here he was living like a student; he enjoyed nothing,-neither his money nor his fame; he was ignorant of the exquisite enjoyments of the noble and delicate love which well-born and well-bred women could inspire and feel; he knew nothing of the char

n the panels of a carriage? You have thirty thousand francs a year, and the proceeds of your pen; you have justified your motto: Ars thesaurusque virtus, t

, I would forgive you," said Blondet. "But, my dear fellow, you are living on dr

se de Cadignan had a great desire to see that celebrated man. Such curiosities are to certain women what magic lanterns are to children,-a pleasure to the eyes, but rather shallow and full of disappointments. The more sent

or Rastignac saw any impropriety in attributing this love to the princess; she whose past had given rise to so many anecdotes could very well stand that lesser calumny. Together they began to relate to d'Arthez the adventures of the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse: her first affair with de Marsay; her second with d'Ajuda, whom she had, they said, distracted from his wife, thus avenging Madame de Beausant; also her later connection with young d'Esgrignon, who had travelled with her in

would make me run through the streets as far as her horses th

ysteries of elegance; but take care! she has wasted many fortunes. The beautiful Diane is one of those spendthrifts who don't cost a penny, but for whom

n. The two clever men of the world, incapable of foreseeing the denouement of their joke, succeeded in presenting Diane d'Uxelles as a consummate specimen of the Parisian woman, the cleverest of coquettes, the most enchanting mi

the princess as soon as sh

by nature, it seems, a savage; he fears women, and has never loved! Make your plans on that. He is all intellect, and so simple that he'll mislead you into feeling no

h him! The one enjoyment I have lacked up to the present is a man of intellect to fool. I

very generous; for, after all, y

e had given to the other; for sincere and lasting friendships between women of the world need to be cemented by a few little crimes. When two friends are liable to kill each other reciprocal

d to all other visitors, took place at Madame d'Espard's house. Five persons were invited,-Emile Blondet and Madame de Montcorne

ch, to women, is the first of arts. On this occasion she wore a gown of blue velvet with flowing white sleeves, and a tulle guimpe, slightly frilled and edged with blue, covering the shoulders, and rising nearly to t

not grant to desire, hope, and joy, the faculty of clearing the skin, giving brilliancy to the eye, and brightening the glow of beauty with a light as jocund as that of a lovely morning? The celebrated faintness of the princess had taken on a ripeness which now made her seem more august. At this moment of her life, impressed by her many vicissitudes and by serious reflections, her noble, dreamy brow harmonized delightfully with the slow, majestic gla

reflective, serious, and profound enough to excite anxiety. She came to Madame d'Espard's dinner with the intention of being a gentle, simp

utting in relief the beautiful serpentine outline which, starting from the foot, rises gracefully to the hip, and continues with adorable curves to the shoulder, presenting, in fact, a profile of the whole body. With a subtlety which

accept all the difficulties at once yo

less the same with the King of France and the royal princes. She seemed happy to see this great man, and glad that she had sought him. Persons of taste, like the princess, are especially distinguished for their manner of listening, for an affability without superciliousness, which

n display, ate her dinner with a very good appetite, making it a point of honor to seem a natural woman, without strange ways

edge or thank him for them. I know that you were one of his best friends. Your mutual friendship, pure and unalterable, is a claim upon me. You will not, I am sure, think it extraordinary, that I have wished to know all you could tell me of a man so dear to you. Though

ety. No, Michel dreamed of the Swiss federation applied to all Europe. Let us own, between ourselves, that after the glorious government of one man only, which, as I think, is particularly suited to our nation, Michel's system would lead to the suppression of war in this old world, and its reconstr

r both natures," said Ma

closer than ever the already strong ties of brotherly affection. He alone, madame, can have loved you as you ought to be loved. Many a time I

he princess, "how can

e!" exclaimed Daniel,

e pursued, we women, by as many calumnies as you authors are compelled to endure in your literary life; but we, alas! cannot defend ourselves either by our works or by our fame. The world will not believe us to be what we are, but what it thinks us to be. It would

h a touching gesture. This plaintive expression of grievous doubts and hidden sorrows is

l the world, under the peristyle of the opera-house. But the thought came to me that such a proof of gratitude might be misinterpreted; like so many other little things

ch the heart; and they did reach that of d'Arthez. There was no question of himself in the matter; this woman was seeking to rehabilitate herself in favor of the de

love absolutely, and who, if they choose ill, can suff

he said, with an air

, ma

his ha

four

proud satisfaction," she said, turning her sweet and noble

too expressive, and speak with their eyes when language is restrained. These clever discords,

feeling well assured they had produced her effect,-"is it no

t write th

sure; for, believe me, monsieur, in p

nt have been wearing the diadem of France, and her brow could not have seemed more imposing than it was beneath that crown of golden hair, braided like a coronet, and adorned with heather. She was simple and calm; nothing betrayed a sense of any necessity to appear so, nor any desire to seem grand or loving. D'Arthez, the solitary toiler, to whom the ways of

inely modelled, closer than when he accompanied his friend in their wild rush through the streets, he was struck by the surprising phenomenon of the moral second-sight which a man exalted by love invariably finds

yond one specimen. He was thus captured on the most accessible and sensitive sides of his soul and of his genius. Impelled by his simplicity, and by the impetuosity of his ideas, to lay immediate claim to this woman, he found himself restrained by society, also by the barrier which the manners and, let us say the word, the majesty of the princess placed between them. The conversation, which remained upon the topic of Michel Chrestien until the dessert, was an excellent pretext for both to speak in a low voice: love, symp

oolboy. When they left the dining-room, the princess took d'Arthez's arm, in the simplest manner, to return to Madame d'Espard's little salon

made it a rule to receive no visitors, you will always be welcome in my house. Do not think this a favor. A

press her arm, unabl

rose. Blondet and Rastignac were too much men of the world, and too polite to make the least remonstrance

ve had their dinner; the c

ed that the princess and Madame d'Espard had a word to say to each other, and she drew around her d'Arthez, Rastignac

uise to Diane, "what

ng-clothes! This time, like all other times,

g," said Madame d'Espard.

ow

be you

my course. Genius is a condition of the brain; I don't know

nterview. The princess stayed an hour longer, seated on the sofa near the fire, in the careless, nonchalant attitude of Guerin's Dido, listening with the attention of an absorbed mind, and looking at Daniel now and then, witho

,-a rare enjoyment, and well appreciated by these four persons, habitually victimized to the endless caution entailed by the world of salons and politics. There are beings who have the privilege of passing among men like beneficent stars, whose light illumines the mind, while its rays send a glow to the heart. D'Arthez was one of those beings. A writer who rises to his level, accustoms himself to free thought, and forgets that in society all things cannot be said

replied d'Arthez; "she is, in

lf to be drawn into any confusion of interests, so to speak. Love the princess if you feel any love for her in your heart, but keep an eye on your fortune. She has never taken or asked a penny from any man on earth, she is far too much of a d'Uxelles and a Cadignan for that; but, to my knowledge, she has no

exclaimed d'Arthez,-"w

ing, "her son, the Duc de Maufrigneuse. That young ma

the amazed author.

ost fantastic of worlds. Good-night, here you are at home," said the baron, as they entered the rue de Bellefond, where d'