modeste mignon-第4节

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their　voices；　which　the　suspected　party　did　not　notice；　so　absorbed

was　she　in　her　embroidery。　Modeste　laid　each　thread　of　cotton　with　a

precision　that　would　have　made　an　ordinary　workwoman　desperate。　Her

face　expressed　the　pleasure　she　took　in　the　smooth　petals　of　the

flower　she　was　working。　The　dwarf；　seated　between　his　mistress　and

Gobenheim；　restrained　his　emotion；　trying　to　find　means　to　approach

Modeste　and　whisper　a　word　of　warning　in　her　ear。



By　taking　a　position　in　front　of　Madame　Mignon；　Madame　Latournelle；

with　the　diabolical　intelligence　of　conscientious　duty；　had　isolated

Modeste。　Madame　Mignon；　whose　blindness　always　made　her　silent；　was

even　paler　than　usual；　showing　plainly　that　she　was　aware　of　the　test

to　which　her　daughter　was　about　to　be　subjected。　Perhaps　at　the　last

moment　she　revolted　from　the　stratagem；　necessary　as　it　might　seem　to

her。　Hence　her　silence；　she　was　weeping　inwardly。　Exupere；　the　spring

of　the　trap；　was　wholly　ignorant　of　the　piece　in　which　he　was　to　play

a　part。　Gobenheim；　by　reason　of　his　character；　remained　in　a　state　of

indifference　equal　to　that　displayed　by　Modeste。　To　a　spectator　who

understood　the　situation；　this　contrast　between　the　ignorance　of　some

and　the　palpitating　interest　of　others　would　have　seemed　quite　poetic。

Nowadays　romance…writers　arrange　such　effects；　and　it　is　quite　within

their　province　to　do　so；　for　nature　in　all　ages　takes　the　liberty　to

be　stronger　than　they。　In　this　instance；　as　you　will　see；　nature；

social　nature；　which　is　a　second　nature　within　nature；　amused　herself

by　making　truth　more　interesting　than　fiction；　just　as　mountain

torrents　describe　curves　which　are　beyond　the　skill　of　painters　to

convey；　and　accomplish　giant　deeds　in　displacing　or　smoothing　stones

which　are　the　wonder　of　architects　and　sculptors。



It　was　eight　o'clock。　At　that　season　twilight　was　still　shedding　its

last　gleams；　there　was　not　a　cloud　in　the　sky；　the　balmy　air　caressed

the　earth；　the　flowers　gave　forth　their　fragrance；　the　steps　of

pedestrians　turning　homeward　sounded　along　the　gravelly　road；　the　sea

shone　like　a　mirror；　and　there　was　so　little　wind　that　the　wax　candles

upon　the　card…tables　sent　up　a　steady　flame；　although　the　windows　were

wide　open。　This　salon；　this　evening；　this　dwellingwhat　a　frame　for

the　portrait　of　the　young　girl　whom　these　persons　were　now　studying

with　the　profound　attention　of　a　painter　in　presence　of　the　Margharita

Doni；　one　of　the　glories　of　the　Pitti　palace。　Modeste；blossom

enclosed；　like　that　of　Catullus；was　she　worth　all　these　precautions？



You　have　seen　the　cage；　behold　the　bird！　Just　twenty　years　of　age；

slender　and　delicate　as　the　sirens　which　English　designers　invent　for

their　〃Books　of　Beauty；〃　Modeste　was；　like　her　mother　before　her；　the

captivating　embodiment　of　a　grace　too　little　understood　in　France；

where　we　choose　to　call　it　sentimentality；　but　which　among　German

women　is　the　poetry　of　the　heart　coming　to　the　surface　of　the　being

and　spending　itselfin　affectations　if　the　owner　is　silly；　in　divine

charms　of　manner　if　she　is　〃spirituelle〃　and　intelligent。　Remarkable

for　her　pale　golden　hair；　Modeste　belonged　to　the　type　of　woman

called；　perhaps　in　memory　of　Eve；　the　celestial　blonde；　whose　satiny

skin　is　like　a　silk　paper　applied　to　the　flesh；　shuddering　at　the

winter　of　a　cold　look；　expanding　in　the　sunshine　of　a　loving　glance；

teaching　the　hand　to　be　jealous　of　the　eye。　Beneath　her　hair；　which

was　soft　and　feathery　and　worn　in　many　curls；　the　brow；　which　might

have　been　traced　by　a　compass　so　pure　was　its　modelling；　shone　forth

discreet；　calm　to　placidity；　and　yet　luminous　with　thought：　when　and

where　could　another　be　found　so　transparently　clear　or　more

exquisitely　smooth？　It　seemed；　like　a　pearl；　to　have　its　orient。　The

eyes；　of　a　blue　verging　on　gray　and　limpid　as　the　eyes　of　a　child；　had

all　the　mischief；　all　the　innocence　of　childhood；　and　they　harmonized

well　with　the　arch　of　the　eyebrows；　faintly　indicated　by　lines　like

those　made　with　a　brush　on　Chinese　faces。　This　candor　of　the　soul　was

still　further　evidenced　around　the　eyes；　in　their　corners；　and　about

the　temples；　by　pearly　tints　threaded　with　blue；　the　special　privilege

of　these　delicate　complexions。　The　face；　whose　oval　Raphael　so　often

gave　to　his　Madonnas；　was　remarkable　for　the　sober　and　virginal　tone

of　the　cheeks；　soft　as　a　Bengal　rose；　upon　which　the　long　lashes　of

the　diaphanous　eyelids　cast　shadows　that　were　mingled　with　light。　The

throat；　bending　as　she　worked；　too　delicate　perhaps；　and　of　milky

whiteness；　recalled　those　vanishing　lines　that　Leonardo　loved。　A　few

little　blemishes　here　and　there；　like　the　patches　of　the　eighteenth

century；　proved　that　Modeste　was　indeed　a　child　of　earth；　and　not　a

creation　dreamed　of　in　Italy　by　the　angelic　school。　Her　lips；　delicate

yet　full；　were　slightly　mocking　and　somewhat　sensuous；　the　waist；

which　was　supple　and　yet　not　fragile；　had　no　terrors　for　maternity；

like　those　of　girls　who　seek　beauty　by　the　fatal　pressure　of　a　corset。

Steel　and　dimity　and　lacings　defined　but　did　not　create　the　serpentine

lines　of　the　elegant　figure；　graceful　as　that　of　a　young　poplar

swaying　in　the　wind。



A　pearl…gray　dress　with　crimson　trimmings；　made　with　a　long　waist；

modestly　outlined　the　bust　and　covered　the　shoulders；　still　rather

thin；　with　a　chemisette　which　left　nothing　to　view　but　the　first

curves　of　the　throat　where　it　joined　the　shoulders。　From　the　aspect　of

the　young　girl's　face；　at　once　ethereal　and　intelligent；　where　the

delicacy　of　a　Greek　nose　with　its　rosy　nostrils　and　firm　modelling

marked　something　positive　and　defined；　where　the　poetry　enthroned　upon

an　almost　mystic　brow　seemed　belied　at　times　by　the　pleasure…loving

expression　of　the　mouth；　where　candor　claimed　the　depths　profound　and

varied　of　the　eye；　and　disputed　them　with　a　spirit　of　irony　that　was

trained　and　educated；from　all　these　signs　an　observer　would　have

felt　that　this　young　girl；　with　the　keen；　alert　ear　that　waked　at

every　sound；　with　a　nostril　open　to　catch　the　fragrance　of　the

celestial　flower　of　the　Ideal；　was　destined　to　be　the　battle…ground　of

a　struggle　between　the　poesies　of　the　dawn　and　the　labors　of　the　day；

between　fancy　and　reality；　the　spirit　and　the　life。　Modeste　was　a　pure

young　girl；　inquisitive　after　knowledge；　understanding　her　destiny；

and　filled　with　chastity；the　Virgin　of　Spain　rather　than　the　Madonna

of　Raphael。



She　raised　her　head　when　she　heard　Dumay　say　to　Exupere；　〃Come　here；

young　man。〃　Seeing　them　together　in　the　corner　of　the　salon　she

supposed　they　were　talking　of　some　commission　in　Paris。　Then　she

looked　at　the　friends　who　surrounded　her；　as　if　surprised　by　their

silence；　and　exclaimed　in　her　natural　manner；　〃Why　are　you　not

playing？〃with　a　glance　at　the　green　table　which　the　imposing　Madame

Latournelle　called　the　〃altar。〃



〃Yes；　let　us　play；〃　said　Dumay；　having　sent　off　Exupere。



〃Sit　there；　Butscha；〃　said　Madame　Latournelle；　separating　the　head…

clerk　from　the　group　around　Madame　Mignon　and　her　daughter　by　the

whole　width　of　the　table。



〃And　you；　come　over　here；〃　said　Dumay　to　his　wife；　making　her　sit

close　by　him。



Madame　Dumay；　a　little　American　about　thirty…six　years　of　age；　wiped

her　eyes　furtively；　she　adored　Modeste；　and　feared　a　catastrophe。



〃You　are　not　very　lively　this　evening；〃　remarked　Modeste。



〃We　are　playing；〃　said　Gobenheim；　sorting　his　cards。



No　matter　how　interesting　this　situation　may　appear；　it　can　be　made

still　more　so　by　explaining　Dumay's　position　towards　Modeste。　If　the

brevity　of　this　explanation　makes　it　seem　rather　dry；　the　reader　must

pardon　its　dryness　in　view　of　our　desire　to　get　through　with　these

preliminaries　as　speedily　as　possible；　and　the　necessity　of　relating

the　main　circumstances　which　govern　all　dramas。







CHAPTER　III



PRELIMINARIES



Jean　Francois　Bernard　Dumay；　born　at　Vannes；　started　as　a　soldier　for

the　army　of　Italy　in　1799。　His　father；　president　of　the　revolutionary

tribunal　of　that　town；　had　displayed　so　much　energy　in　his　office　that

the　place　had　become　too　hot　to　hold　the　son　when　the　parent；　a

pettifogging　lawyer；　perished　on　the　scaffold　after　the　ninth

Thermidor。　On　the　death　of　his　mother；　who　died　of　the　grief　this

catastrophe　occasioned；　Jean　sold　all　that　he　possessed　and　rushed　to

Italy　at　the　age　of　twenty…two；　at　the　very　moment　when　our　armies

were　beginning　to　yield。　On　the　way　he　met　a　young　man　in　the

department　of　Var；　who　for　reasons　analogous　to　his　own　was　in　search

of　glory；　believing　a　battle…field　less　perilous　than　his　own

Provence。　Charles　Mignon；　the　last　scion　of　an　ancient　family；　which

gave　its　name　to　a　street　in　Paris　and　to　a　mansion　built　by　Cardinal

Mignon；　had　a　shrewd　and　calculating　father；　whose　one　idea　was　to

save　his　feudal　estate　of　La　Bastie　in　the　Comtat　from　the　claws　of

the　Revolution。　Like　all　t