Letters of Two Brides | Page 9

in society will
atone for the disappointment we felt at your change of vocation," he
said. Then, turning to my mother, "Do you know that she is going to
turn out very pretty, and you will be proud of her some day?--Here is
your brother, Rhetore.--Alphonse," he said to a fine young man who
came in, "here is your convent-bred sister, who threatens to send her
nun's frock to the deuce."
My brother came up in a leisurely way and took my hand, which he
pressed.
"Come, come, you may kiss her," said my father.
And he kissed me on both cheeks.
"I am delighted to see you," he said, "and I take your side against my
father."
I thanked him, but could not help thinking he might have come to Blois
when he was at Orleans visiting our Marquis brother in his quarters.
Fearing the arrival of strangers, I now withdrew. I tidied up my rooms,
and laid out on the scarlet velvet of my lovely table all the materials

necessary for writing to you, meditating all the while on my new
situation.
This, my fair sweetheart, is a true and veracious account of the return of
a girl of eighteen, after an absence of nine years, to the bosom of one of
the noblest families in the kingdom. I was tired by the journey as well
as by all the emotions I had been through, so I went to bed in convent
fashion, at eight o'clock after supper. They have preserved even a little
Saxe service which the dear Princess used when she had a fancy for
taking her meals alone.

II
THE SAME TO THE SAME November 25th.
Next day I found my rooms done out and dusted, and even flowers put
in the vases, by old Philippe. I began to feel at home. Only it didn't
occur to anybody that a Carmelite schoolgirl has an early appetite, and
Rose had no end of trouble in getting breakfast for me.
"Mlle. goes to bed at dinner-time," she said to me, "and gets up when
the Duke is just returning home."
I began to write. About one o'clock my father knocked at the door of
the small drawing-room and asked if he might come in. I opened the
door; he came in, and found me writing to you.
"My dear," he began, "you will have to get yourself clothes, and to
make these rooms comfortable. In this purse you will find twelve
thousand francs, which is the yearly income I purpose allowing you for
your expenses. You will make arrangements with your mother as to
some governess whom you may like, in case Miss Griffith doesn't
please you, for Mme. de Chaulieu will not have time to go out with you
in the mornings. A carriage and man-servant shall be at your disposal."
"Let me keep Philippe," I said.

"So be it," he replied. "But don't be uneasy; you have money enough of
your own to be no burden either to your mother or me."
"May I ask how much I have?"
"Certainly, my child," he said. "Your grandmother left you five
hundred thousand francs; this was the amount of her savings, for she
would not alienate a foot of land from the family. This sum has been
placed in Government stock, and, with the accumulated interest, now
brings in about forty thousand francs a year. With this I had purposed
making an independence for your second brother, and it is here that you
have upset my plans. Later, however, it is possible that you may fall in
with them. It shall rest with yourself, for I have confidence in your
good sense far more than I had expected.
"I do not need to tell you how a daughter of the Chaulieus ought to
behave. The pride so plainly written in your features is my best
guarantee. Safeguards, such as common folk surround their daughters
with, would be an insult in our family. A slander reflecting on your
name might cost the life of the man bold enough to utter it, or the life
of one of your brothers, if by chance the right should not prevail. No
more on this subject. Good-bye, little one."
He kissed me on the forehead and went out. I cannot understand the
relinquishment of this plan after nine years' persistence in it. My
father's frankness is what I like. There is no ambiguity about his words.
My money ought to belong to his Marquis son. Who, then, has had
bowels of mercy? My mother? My father? Or could it be my brother?
I remained sitting on my grandmother's sofa, staring at the purse which
my father had left on the mantelpiece, at once pleased and vexed that I
could not withdraw my mind