Parisian Points of View | Page 4

same
night, at the Bouffes-Parisiens Theatre."
Gontran began to laugh.
"Oh, you can laugh as much as you please! You know very well that
but for this--on what does fate depend?--I should now be married and a
duchess, it is true; but Duchess of Courtalin, and not Duchess of
Lannilis. Well, perhaps that would have been better! At any rate, I wish
to give Aunt Louise the authentic history of our marriage."
"Tell away, if it amuses you," said Gontran.
"Yes, sir, it amuses me. You shall know all, Aunt Louise--all,
absolutely all; and I beg you to be judge of our quarrel."
This scene was taking place eight days after Marceline de Lorlauge, at
the Church of the Madeleine, before the altar, hidden under a mountain
of roses, had answered "yes," with just the right amount of nervousness
and emotion (neither too much nor too little, but exactly right), when
she was asked if she was willing to take for husband her cousin, Jean
Leopold Mathurin Arbert Gontran, Duke of Lannilis.
This marriage had been the great marriage of the season. There had

been an absolute crush under the colonnade and against the railings of
the church to see the bride walk down those fearful steps of the
Madeleine. What an important feat that is! Merely to be beautiful is not
all that is needful; it is necessary besides to know how to be beautiful.
There is an art about being pretty which requires certain preparations
and study. In society, as in the theatre, success rarely comes at once.
Mme. de Lannilis had the good-fortune to make her first appearance
with decisive success. She was at once quite easily and boldly at home
in her beauty; she had only to appear to triumph. Prince Nérins had not
a moment's hesitation concerning it, and he it is, as every one knows,
who, with general consent, has made himself the distributor of the
patents of supreme Parisian elegance; so while the new duchess,
beneath the fire of a thousand eyes and behind the ringing staffs, was
taking her first steps as a young married woman with calm assurance,
Nérins, struck with admiration, was giving way, under the colonnade of
the Madeleine, to veritable transports of enthusiasm. He went from
group to group repeating:
"She is aerial! There is no other expression for her--aerial! She does not
walk, she glides! If she had the fantasy, with one little kick of her heel,
she could raise herself lightly over the heads of those two tall fellows
with spears, cross the Place de la Concorde, and go and place herself on
the pediment of the Chamber of Deputies. Look at her well; that is true
beauty, radiant beauty, blazing beauty! She is a goddess, a young
goddess! she will reign long, gentlemen--as long as possible."
The young goddess, for the present, did not go farther than Lannilis, in
Poitou, to her husband's home--her home--in a mansion that had seen
many Duchesses of Lannilis, but never one more charming, and never,
it must be said, one more absolutely in love. This little duchess of
nineteen was wild about this little duke of twenty-five, who was
jealously carrying her off for himself alone to a quiet and solitary
retreat.
They had arrived Thursday, the 24th of June, at about two o'clock--on
an exquisite night beneath a star-spangled sky--and they were suddenly
astounded at receiving a letter from their Aunt Louise, dated July 1:
"Eight days' steady tête-à-tête," she wrote, "is enough, quite enough.
Trust to the experience of an old countrywoman, who would be
delighted to kiss her little nephew and niece. Don't eat all your love in

the bud--keep a little for the future."
Thursday, the 1st of July! Eight days! They had been eight days at
Lannilis! It was impossible! They tried to put some order in their
reflections. What had they done Friday, Saturday, and Sunday? But all
was vague, and became confused in their minds. The days and the
nights, and the nights and days. What had they done? It was always the
same, same thing; and the same thing had somehow never been the
same thing.
They had just loved, loved, loved; and, quite given up to this very wise
occupation, they had completely forgotten that near Lannilis, in the old
residence of Chatellerault, there was dear old Aunt Louise, who was
expecting their first bridal visit--a visit which was due her, for she had
the best claim in the world, on account of her eighty-four years, her
kindness, and also because of the gift of a magnificent pearl necklace to
Marceline.
So it was necessary to be resigned, to leave off dreaming, and to come
back to reality; and it was during this visit that, before the old aunt,
much amused at