La Constantin | Page 7

they gave rise to had led to her dismissal from court. Not that she was a
greater sinner than many who remained behind, only she was unlucky
enough or stupid enough to be found out. Her admirers were so
indiscreet that they had not left her a shred of reputation, and in a court
where a cardinal is the lover of a queen, a hypocritical appearance of
decorum is indispensable to success. So Angelique had to suffer for the
faults she was not clever enough to hide. Unfortunately for her, her
income went up and down with the number and wealth of her admirers,
so when she left the court all her possessions consisted of a few articles
she had gathered together out of the wreck of her former luxury, and
these she was now selling one by one to procure the necessaries of life,
while she looked back from afar with an envious eye at the brilliant
world from which she had been exiled, and longed for better days. All
hope was not at an end for her. By a strange law which does not speak

well for human nature, vice finds success easier to attain than virtue.
There is no courtesan, no matter how low she has fallen, who cannot
find a dupe ready to defend against the world an honour of which no
vestige remains. A man who doubts the virtue of the most virtuous
woman, who shows himself inexorably severe when he discovers the
lightest inclination to falter in one whose conduct has hitherto been
above reproach, will stoop and pick up out of the gutter a blighted and
tarnished reputation and protect and defend it against all slights, and
devote his life to the attempt to restore lustre to the unclean thing
dulled by the touch of many fingers. In her days of prosperity
Commander de Jars and the king's treasurer had both fluttered round
Mademoiselle de Guerchi, and neither had fluttered in vain. Short as
was the period necessary to overcome her scruples, in as short a period
it dawned on the two candidates for her favour that each had a
successful rival in the other, and that however potent as a reason for
surrender the doubloons of the treasurer had been, the personal
appearance of the commander had proved equally cogent. As both had
felt for her only a passing fancy and not a serious passion, their
explanations with each other led to no quarrel between them; silently
and simultaneously they withdrew from her circle, without even letting
her know they had found her out, but quite determined to revenge,
themselves on her should a chance ever offer. However, other affairs of
a similar nature had intervened to prevent their carrying out this
laudable intention; Jeannin had laid siege to a more inaccessible beauty,
who had refused to listen to his sighs for less than 30 crowns, paid in
advance, and de Jars had become quite absorbed by his adventure with
the convent boarder at La Raquette, and the business of that young
stranger whom he passed off as his nephew. Mademoiselle de Guerchi
had never seen them again; and with her it was out of sight out of mind.
At the moment when she comes into our story she was weaving her
toils round a certain Duc de Vitry, whom she had seen at court, but
whose acquaintance she had never made, and who had been absent
when the scandalous occurrence which led to her disgrace came to light.
He was a man of from twenty-five to twenty-six years of age, who
idled his life away: his courage was undoubted, and being as credulous
as an old libertine, he was ready to draw his sword at any moment to
defend the lady whose cause he had espoused, should any insolent

slanderer dare to hint there was a smirch on her virtue. Being deaf to all
reports, he seemed one of those men expressly framed by heaven to be
the consolation of fallen women; such a man as in our times a retired
opera-dancer or a superannuated professional beauty would welcome
with open arms. He had only one fault--he was married. It is true he
neglected his wife, according to the custom of the time, and it is
probably also true that his wife cared very little about his infidelities.
But still she was an insurmountable obstacle to the fulfilment of
Mademoiselle de Guerchi's hopes, who but for her might have looked
forward to one day becoming a duchess.
For about three weeks, however, at the time we are speaking of, the
duke had neither crossed her threshold nor written. He had told her he
was going for a few days to Normandy, where he had large estates, but
had remained absent so long after