Letters of Two Brides | Page 8

of a mother to me, and from whom, during eight years, I
had heard nothing beyond the two letters of which you know. Judging
it unworthy to simulate an affection I could not possibly feel, I put on
the air of a pious imbecile, and entered the room with many inward
qualms, which however soon disappeared. My mother's tack was equal
to the occasion. She made no pretence of emotion; she neither held me
at arm's-length nor hugged me to her bosom like a beloved daughter,
but greeted me as though we had parted the evening before. Her
manner was that of the kindliest and most sincere friend, as she
addressed me like a grown person, first kissing me on the forehead.
"My dear little one," she said, "if you were to die at the convent, it is
much better to live with your family. You frustrate your father's plans
and mine; but the age of blind obedience to parents is past. M. de
Chaulieu's intention, and in this I am quite at one with him, is to lose no
opportunity of making your life pleasant and of letting you see the
world. At your age I should have thought as you do, therefore I am not
vexed with you; it is impossible you should understand what we
expected from you. You will not find any absurd severity in me; and if
you have ever thought me heartless, you will soon find out your
mistake. Still, though I wish you to feel perfectly free, I think that, to
begin with, you would do well to follow the counsels of a mother, who
wishes to be a sister to you."

I was quite charmed by the Duchess, who talked in a gentle voice,
straightening my convent tippet as she spoke. At the age of thirty- eight
she is still exquisitely beautiful. She has dark-blue eyes, with silken
lashes, a smooth forehead, and a complexion so pink and white that you
might think she paints. Her bust and shoulders are marvelous, and her
waist is as slender as yours. Her hand is milk-white and extraordinarily
beautiful; the nails catch the light in their perfect polish, the thumb is
like ivory, the little finger stands just a little apart from the rest, and the
foot matches the hand; it is the Spanish foot of Mlle. de Vandenesse. If
she is like this at forty, at sixty she will still be a beautiful woman.
I replied, sweetheart, like a good little girl. I was as nice to her as she to
me, nay, nicer. Her beauty completely vanquished me; it seemed only
natural that such a woman should be absorbed in her regal part. I told
her this as simply as though I had been talking to you. I daresay it was
a surprise to her to hear words of affection from her daughter's mouth,
and the unfeigned homage of my admiration evidently touched her
deeply. Her manner changed and became even more engaging; she
dropped all formality as she said:
"I am much pleased with you, and I hope we shall remain good
friends."
The words struck me as charmingly naive, but I did not let this appear,
for I saw at once that the prudent course was to allow her to believe
herself much deeper and cleverer than her daughter. So I only stared
vacantly and she was delighted. I kissed her hands repeatedly, telling
her how happy it made me to be so treated and to feel at my ease with
her. I even confided to her my previous tremors. She smiled, put her
arm round my neck, and drawing me towards her, kissed me on the
forehead most affectionately.
"Dear child," she said, "we have people coming to dinner to-day.
Perhaps you will agree with me that it is better for you not to make
your first appearance in society till you have been in the dressmaker's
hands; so, after you have seen your father and brother, you can go
upstairs again."

I assented most heartily. My mother's exquisite dress was the first
revelation to me of the world which our dreams had pictured; but I did
not feel the slightest desire to rival her.
My father now entered, and the Duchess presented me to him.
He became all at once most affectionate, and played the father's part so
well, that I could not but believe his heart to be in it. Taking my two
hands in his, and kissing them, with more of the lover than the father in
his manner, he said:
"So this is my rebel daughter!"
And he drew me towards him, with his arm passed tenderly round my
waist, while he kissed me on the cheeks and forehead.
"The pleasure with which we shall watch your success