Parisian Points of View | Page 5

the quarrel, this great dispute had abruptly burst forth
between the young married couple.
Aunt Louise had accepted the position of arbitrator, and, presiding over
the discussion, she had made the two contestants sit down before her in
arm-chairs, at a respectful distance. Marceline, before being seated, had
already taken the floor.
"Every one agreed upon this point (you know it, Aunt Louise; mamma
must often have told you in her letters)--every one was agreed on this
point: that there were really only two suitable matches for me--the
Duke of Lannilis here present, and the Duke of Courtalin. I had the
weakness to prefer him--him over there. Why? I can scarcely tell-a
childish habit, doubtless. We had played together when we were no
higher than that at being little husband and wife. I had remained
faithful to that childhood love, whereas he--"
"Whereas I--"
"All in due season, sir, and you will lose nothing by waiting. However,
there were all sorts of good reasons for preferring--the other one, who
had a larger fortune and was of more ancient nobility."
"Oh, as to that--in money, maybe, but as to birth--"
"It is indisputable! You are both dukes by patent."

"We in 1663."
"And the Courtalin--"
"In 1666 only."
"Agreed."
"Well, then?"
"Oh, just wait! I am posted on the question; mamma studied it
thoroughly when things looked, three months ago, as if I should be
Duchess of Courtalin. One morning mamma went to the archives with
an old friend of hers, a great historian, who is a member of the Institute.
You date from 1663, and the Courtalin from 1666; that is correct. But
Louis XIV., in 1672, by a special edict, gave the precedence to the
Courtalins; and you have not, I suppose, any idea of disputing what
Louis XIV. thought best to do. Now, Aunt Louise, can he?"
"Certainly not."
"But Saint Simon--"
"Oh, let us leave Saint Simon alone; he is prejudice and inaccuracy
itself! I know he is on your side, but that doesn't count; but I will, to be
agreeable to you, acknowledge that you are better looking and taller
than M. de Courtalin--"
"But--"
"Oh, my dear, I begin to see! You are dying for me to tell you that.
Well, yes, you are a fairly handsome man; but that is only a very
perishable advantage, and you have too much respect for
conventionalities to wish to make that equal to the decree of Louis XIV.
However, I loved you--I loved you faithfully, tenderly, fondly, stupidly;
yes, stupidly, for when I had come out in society, the year before, in
April, 1889, at Mme. de Fresnes's ball, when I had allowed my poor,
little, thin shoulders to be seen for the first time (I must have been
about seventeen), I noticed that the young marriageable men in our set
(they are all quoted, noted, and labelled) drew away from me with
strange, respectful deference. I appeared to be of no importance or
interest, in spite of my name, my dowry, and my eyes. You see, I had
singed myself. I had so ridiculously advertised my passion for you that
I no longer belonged to myself; I was considered as belonging to you.
As soon as I had put on my first long dress, which gave me at once the
right to think of marriage and speak of love, I had told all my friends
that I loved, and would never love or marry any one but you--you or the

convent. Yes, I had come to that! My friends had told their brothers and
cousins, who had repeated it to you (just what I wanted), but it put me
out of the race. Dare to say, sir, that it is not all true, strictly true!"
"I am saying nothing--?"
"Because you are overcome, crushed by the evidence. You say nothing
now, but what did you say last year? Last year! When I think that we
could have been married since last year! A year, a whole year lost! And
it was so long, and it could have been so short! Well, he was there, at
the Fresnes' ball. He condescended to do me the honor of dancing three
times with me. I came home intoxicated, absolutely intoxicated with
joy. But that great happiness did not last long, for this is what that
Gontran the next day said to his friend Robert d'Aigremont, who told
his sister Gabrielle, who repeated it to me, that he saw clearly that they
wished to marry him to his cousin Marceline. I had, the day before,
literally thrown myself into his arms; he had thought right, from pure
goodness of heart, to show some pity for the love of the little
school-girl, so he had resolved to dance with me; but he had