Honorine | Page 6

corners of
his mouth, the adorable expression of that august face, whose native
ugliness was redeemed by the spirit of an apostle, you would
understand the feeling which made me answer the Cure of White Friars
only with a kiss, as if he had been my mother.
"'In Comte Octave you will find not a master, but a friend,' said my
uncle on the way to the Rue Payenne. 'But he is distrustful, or to be
more exact, he is cautious. The statesman's friendship can be won only
with time; for in spite of his deep insight and his habit of gauging men,
he was deceived by the man you are succeeding, and nearly became a
victim to his abuse of confidence. This is enough to guide you in your
behavior to him.'
"When we knocked at the enormous outer door of a house as large as
the Hotel Carnavalet, with a courtyard in front and a garden behind, the
sound rang as in a desert. While my uncle inquired of an old porter in
livery if the Count were at home, I cast my eyes, seeing everything at
once, over the courtyard where the cobblestones were hidden in the
grass, the blackened walls where little gardens were flourishing above
the decorations of the elegant architecture, and on the roof, as high as
that of the Tuileries. The balustrade of the upper balconies was eaten
away. Through a magnificent colonnade I could see a second court on
one side, where were the offices; the door was rotting. An old
coachman was there cleaning an old carriage. The indifferent air of this
servant allowed me to assume that the handsome stables, where of old
so many horses had whinnied, now sheltered two at most. The
handsome facade of the house seemed to me gloomy, like that of a
mansion belonging to the State or the Crown, and given up to some
public office. A bell rang as we walked across, my uncle and I, from
the porter's lodge--Inquire of the Porter was still written over the
door--towards the outside steps, where a footman came out in a livery
like that of Labranche at the Theatre Francais in the old stock plays. A
visitor was so rare that the servant was putting his coat on when he
opened a glass door with small panes, on each side of which the smoke

of a lamp had traced patterns on the walls.
"A hall so magnificent as to be worthy of Versailles ended in a
staircase such as will never again be built in France, taking up as much
space as the whole of a modern house. As we went up the marble steps,
as cold as tombstones, and wide enough for eight persons to walk
abreast, our tread echoed under sonorous vaulting. The banister
charmed the eye by its miraculous workmanship--goldsmith's work in
iron--wrought by the fancy of an artist of the time of Henri III. Chilled
as by an icy mantle that fell on our shoulders, we went through
ante-rooms, drawing-rooms opening one out of the other, with
carpetless parquet floors, and furnished with such splendid antiquities
as from thence would find their way to the curiosity dealers. At last we
reached a large study in a cross wing, with all the windows looking into
an immense garden.
"'Monsieur le Cure of the White Friars, and his nephew, Monsieur de
l'Hostal,' said Labranche, to whose care the other theatrical servant had
consigned us in the first ante-chamber.
"Comte Octave, dressed in long trousers and a gray flannel morning
coat, rose from his seat by a huge writing-table, came to the fireplace,
and signed to me to sit down, while he went forward to take my uncle's
hands, which he pressed.
"'Though I am in the parish of Saint-Paul,' said he, 'I could scarcely
have failed to hear of the Cure of the White Friars, and I am happy to
make his acquaintance.'
"'Your Excellency is most kind,' replied my uncle. 'I have brought to
you my only remaining relation. While I believe that I am offering a
good gift to your Excellency, I hope at the same time to give my
nephew a second father.'
"'As to that, I can only reply, Monsieur l'Abbe, when we shall have
tried each other,' said Comte Octave. 'Your name?' he added to me.
"'Maurice.'

"'He has taken his doctor's degree in law,' my uncle observed.
"'Very good, very good!' said the Count, looking at me from head to
foot. 'Monsieur l'Abbe, I hope that for your nephew's sake in the first
instance, and then for mine, you will do me the honor of dining here
every Monday. That will be our family dinner, our family party.'
"My uncle and the Count then began to talk of religion