The Dream | Page 8

was very
soft and pleasant as it fell from the gigantic brow of the apse--a
religious shadow, sepulchral and pure, which had a good odour about it.
In the greenish half-light of its calm freshness, the two towers let fall
only the sound of their chimes. But the entire house kept the quivering
therefrom, sealed as it was to these old stones, melted into them and
supported by them. It trembled at the least of the ceremonies; at the
High Mass, the rumbling of the organ, the voices of the choristers, even
the oppressed sighs of the worshippers, murmured through each one of
its rooms, lulled it as if with a holy breath from the Invisible, and at
times through the half-cool walls seemed to come the vapours from the
burning incense.
For five years Angelique lived and grew there, as if in a cloister, far
away from the world. She only went out to attend the seven-o'clock
Mass on Sunday mornings, as Hubertine had obtained permission for
her to study at home, fearing that, if sent to school, she might not
always have the best of associates. This old dwelling, so shut in, with
its garden of a dead quiet, was her world. She occupied as her chamber
a little whitewashed room under the roof; she went down in the
morning to her breakfast in the kitchen, she went up again to the
working-room in the second story to her embroidery. And these places,
with the turning stone stairway of the turret, were the only corners in
which she passed her time; for she never went into the Huberts'

apartments, and only crossed the parlour on the first floor, and they
were the two rooms which had been rejuvenated and modernised. In the
parlour, the beams were plastered over, and the ceiling had been
decorated with a palm-leaf cornice, accompanied by a rose centre; the
wall-paper dated from the First Empire, as well as the white marble
chimney-piece and the mahogany furniture, which consisted of a sofa
and four armchairs covered with Utrecht velvet, a centre table, and a
cabinet.
On the rare occasions when she went there, to add to the articles
exposed for sale some new bands of embroidery, if she cast her eyes
without, she saw through the window the same unchanging vista, the
narrow street ending at the portal of Saint Agnes; a parishioner pushing
open the little lower door, which shut itself without any noise, and the
shops of the plate-worker and wax-candle-maker opposite, which
appeared to be always empty, but where was a display of holy
sacramental vessels, and long lines of great church tapers. And the
cloistral calm of all Beaumont-l'Eglise--of the Rue Magloire, back of
the Bishop's Palace, of the Grande Rue, where the Rue de Orfevres
began, and of the Place du Cloitre, where rose up the two towers, was
felt in the drowsy air, and seemed to fall gently with the pale daylight
on the deserted pavement.
Hubertine had taken upon herself the charge of the education of
Angelique. Moreover, she was very old-fashioned in her ideas, and
maintained that a woman knew enough if she could read well, write
correctly, and had studied thoroughly the first four rules of arithmetic.
But even for this limited instruction she had constantly to contend with
an unwillingness on the part of her pupil, who, instead of giving her
attention to her books, preferred looking out of the windows, although
the recreation was very limited, as she could see nothing but the garden
from them. In reality, Angelique cared only for reading;
notwithstanding in her dictations, chosen from some classic writer, she
never succeeded in spelling a page correctly, yet her handwriting was
exceedingly pretty, graceful, and bold, one of those irregular styles
which were quite the fashion long ago. As for other studies, of
geography and history and cyphering, she was almost completely

ignorant of them. What good would knowledge ever do her? It was
really useless, she thought. Later on, when it was time for her to be
Confirmed, she learned her Catechism word for word, and with so
fervent an ardour that she astonished everyone by the exactitude of her
memory.
Notwithstanding their gentleness, during the first year the Huberts were
often discouraged. Angelique, who promised to be skilful in
embroidering, disconcerted them by sudden changes to inexplicable
idleness after days of praiseworthy application. She was capricious,
seemed to lose her strength, became greedy, would steal sugar to eat
when alone, and her cheeks were flushed and her eyes looked wearied
under their reddened lids. If reproved, she would reply with a flood of
injurious words. Some days, when they wished to try to subdue her, her
foolish pride at being interfered with would throw her into such serious
attacks that