The Marriage Contract | Page 6

of sharp stones among which lie the
votaries of the social 'multiplicamini.' But the question is, Does
humanity require even an hour of my time? And besides, isn't the more
reasonable use of ink that of snaring hearts by writing
love-letters?--Well, shall you bring the Comtesse de Manerville here,
and let us see her?"
"Perhaps," said Paul.

"We shall still be friends," said de Marsay.
"If--" replied Paul.
"Don't be uneasy; we will treat you politely, as Maison-Rouge treated
the English at Fontenoy."


CHAPTER II
THE PINK OF FASHION
Though the foregoing conversation affected the Comte de Manerville
somewhat, he made it a point of duty to carry out his intentions, and he
returned to Bordeaux during the winter of the year 1821.
The expenses he incurred in restoring and furnishing his family
mansion sustained the reputation for elegance which had preceded him.
Introduced through his former connections to the royalist society of
Bordeaux, to which he belonged as much by his personal opinions as
by his name and fortune, he soon obtained a fashionable pre-eminence.
His knowledge of life, his manners, his Parisian acquirements
enchanted the Faubourg Saint-Germain of Bordeaux. An old marquise
made use of a term formerly in vogue at court to express the flowery
beauty of the fops and beaux of the olden time, whose language and
demeanor were social laws: she called him "the pink of fashion." The
liberal clique caught up the word and used it satirically as a nickname,
while the royalist party continued to employ it in good faith.
Paul de Manerville acquitted himself gloriously of the obligations
imposed by his flowery title. It happened to him, as to many a mediocre
actor, that the day when the public granted him their full attention he
became, one may almost say, superior. Feeling at his ease, he displayed
the fine qualities which accompanied his defects. His wit had nothing
sharp or bitter in it; his manners were not supercilious; his intercourse

with women expressed the respect they like,--it was neither too
deferential, nor too familiar; his foppery went no farther than a care for
his personal appearance which made him agreeable; he showed
consideration for rank; he allowed young men a certain freedom, to
which his Parisian experience assigned due limits; though skilful with
sword and pistol, he was noted for a feminine gentleness for which
others were grateful. His medium height and plumpness (which had not
yet increased into obesity, an obstacle to personal elegance) did not
prevent his outer man from playing the part of a Bordelais Brummell.
A white skin tinged with the hues of health, handsome hands and feet,
blue eyes with long lashes, black hair, graceful motions, a chest voice
which kept to its middle tones and vibrated in the listener's heart,
harmonized well with his sobriquet. Paul was indeed that delicate
flower which needs such careful culture, the qualities of which display
themselves only in a moist and suitable soil,--a flower which rough
treatment dwarfs, which the hot sun burns, and a frost lays low. He was
one of those men made to receive happiness, rather than to give it; who
have something of the woman in their nature, wishing to be divined,
understood, encouraged; in short, a man to whom conjugal love ought
to come as a providence.
If such a character creates difficulties in private life, it is gracious and
full of attraction for the world. Consequently, Paul had great success in
the narrow social circle of the provinces, where his mind, always, so to
speak, in half-tints, was better appreciated than in Paris.
The arrangement of his house and the restoration of the chateau de
Lanstrac, where he introduced the comfort and luxury of an English
country-house, absorbed the capital saved by the notary during the
preceding six years. Reduced now to his strict income of forty-odd
thousand a year, he thought himself wise and prudent in so regulating
his household as not to exceed it.
After publicly exhibiting his equipages, entertaining the most
distinguished young men of the place, and giving various hunting
parties on the estate at Lanstrac, Paul saw very plainly that provincial
life would never do without marriage. Too young to employ his time in

miserly occupations, or in trying to interest himself in the speculative
improvements in which provincials sooner or later engage (compelled
thereto by the necessity of establishing their children), he soon felt the
need of that variety of distractions a habit of which becomes at last the
very life of a Parisian. A name to preserve, property to transmit to heirs,
social relations to be created by a household where the principal
families of the neighborhood could assemble, and a weariness of all
irregular connections, were not, however, the determining reasons of
his matrimonial desires. From the