The Idol of Paris

The Idol of Paris, by Sarah
Bernhardt

The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Idol of Paris, by Sarah Bernhardt
Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the
header without written permission.
Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is
important information about your specific rights and restrictions in how
the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a
donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since
1971**
*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of
Volunteers!*****
Title: The Idol of Paris
Author: Sarah Bernhardt
Release Date: December, 2004 [EBook #7075] [Yes, we are more than

one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on March 6,
2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: Latin-1
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE IDOL
OF PARIS ***

This eBook was produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Charles Franks and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team

THE IDOL OF PARIS

by SARAH BERNHARDT
1921 (English Edition)

CONTENTS
PART ONE: PARIS
PART TWO: BRUSSELS
PART THREE: THE COUNTRY
PART FOUR: THE CHÂTEAU

PART I. PARIS

CHAPTER I
In the dining-room of a fine house on the Boulevard Raspail all the
Darbois family were gathered together about the round table, on which
a white oil cloth bordered with gold-medallioned portraits of the line of
French kings served as table cover at family meals.
The Darbois family consisted of François Darbois, professor of
philosophy, a scholar of eminence and distinction; of Madame Darbois,
his wife, a charming gentle little creature, without any pretentions; of
Philippe Renaud, brother of Madame Darbois, an honest and able
business man; of his son, Maurice Renaud, twenty-two and a painter, a
fine youth filled with confidence because of the success he had just
achieved at the last Salon; of a distant cousin, the family counsellor, a
tyrannical landlord and self-centered bachelor, Adhemar Meydieux,
and the child of whom he was godfather, and around whom all this
particular little world revolved.
Esperance Darbois, the only daughter of the philosopher, was fifteen
years old. She was long and slim without being angular. The flower
head that crowned this slender stem was exquisitely fair, with the
fairness of a little child, soft pale-gold, fair. Her face had, indeed, no
strictly sculptural beauty; her long flax-coloured eyes were not large,
her nose had no special character; only her sensitive and clear-cut
nostrils gave the pretty face its suggestion of ancient lineage. Her
mouth was a little large, and her full red lips opened on singularly
white teeth as even as almonds; while a low Grecian forehead and a
neck graceful in every curve gave Esperance a total effect of
aristocratic distinction that was beyond dispute. Her low vibrant voice
produced an impression that was almost physical on those who heard it.
Quite without intention, she introduced into every word she spoke
several inflections which made her manner of pronounciation
peculiarly her own.

Esperance was kneeling on a chair, leaning upon her arms on the table.
Her blue dress, cut like a blouse, was held in at the waist by a narrow
girdle knotted loosely. Although the child was arguing vigorously, with
intense animation, there was such grace in her gestures, such charming
vibrations in her voice, that it was impossible to resent her combative
attitude.
"Papa, my dear papa," she was asserting to François Darbois, "You are
saying to-day just the opposite of what you were saying the other day
to mother at dinner."
Her father raised his head. Her mother, on the contrary, dropped hers a
little. "Pray Heaven," she was saying to herself, "that François does not
get angry with her!"
The godfather moved his chair forward; Philippe Renaud laughed;
Maurice looked at his cousin with amazement.
"What are you saying?" asked François Darbois.
Esperance gazed at him tenderly. "You remember my godfather was
dining with us and there had been a lot of talk; my godfather was
against allowing any liberty to women, and he maintained that children
have no right to choose their own careers, but must, without reasoning,
give way to their parents, who alone are to decide their fates."
Adhemar wished to take the floor and cleared his throat in preparation,
but François Darbois, evidently a little nonplused, muttered, "And then
after that--what are you coming to?"
"To