the quest of the golden girl-第29节

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Nothing　is　more　absurd　and　unjust　than　those　crude　labels　of　national　character　which　label　one　country　virtuous　and　another　vicious；　one　musical　and　another　literary。　　Thus　France　has　an　unjust　reputation　for　vice；　and　England　an　equally　unjust　reputation　for　virtue。

I　had　always；　I　confess；　been　brought　up　to　think　of　Paris　as　a　sort　of　Sodom　and　Gomorrah　in　one。　　Good　Americans　might　go　to　Paris；　according　to　the　American　theory　of　a　future　state；　but；　certainly　I　had　thought；　no　good　Englishman　ever　went　thereexcept；　maybe；　on　behalf　of　the　Vigilance　Society。　　Well；　it　may　sound　an　odd　thing　to　say；　but　what　impressed　me　most　of　all　was　the　absolute　innocence　of　the　place。

I　mean　this　quite　seriously。　　For　surely　one　important　condition　of　innocence　is　unconsciousness　of　doing　wrong。　　The　poor　despised　Parisian　may　be　a　very　wicked　and　depraved　person；　but　certainly　he　goes　about　with　an　absolute　unconsciousness　of　it　upon　his　gay　and　kindly　countenance。

〃Seeing　the　world〃　usually　means　seeing　everything　in　it　that　most　decent　people　won't　look　at；　but　when　you　come　to　look　at　these　terrible　things　and　places；　what　do　you　find？　　Why；　absolute　disappointment！

Have　you　ever　read　that　most　amusing　book；　〃Baedeker　on　Paris〃？

I　know　nothing　more　delightful　than　the　notes　to　the　Montmartre　and　Latin　Quarters。　　The　places　to　which　you；　as　a　smug　Briton；　may　or　may　not　take　a　lady！　　The　scale　of　wickedness　allowed　to　the　waxwork　British　lady　is　most　charmingly　graduated。　　I　had　read　that　the　cafe　where　we　were　sitting　was　one　of　the　most　terrible　places　in　Paris；the　Cafe　d'Harcourt；　where　the　students　of　the　Latin　Quarter　take　their　nice　little　domestic　mistresses　to　supper。　　But　Baedeker　was　dreadfully　Pecksniffian　about　these　poor　innocent　etudiantes；　many　of　whom　love　their　lovers　much　more　truly　than　many　a　British　wife　loves　her　husband；　and　are　much　better　loved　in　return。　　If　you　doubt　it；　dare　to　pay　attention　to　one　of　these　young　ladies；　and　you　will　probably　have　to　fight　a　duel　for　it。　　In　fact；　these　romantic　relations　are　much　more　careful　of　honour　than　conventional　ones；　for　love；　and　not　merely　law；　keeps　guard。

I　looked　around　me。　　Where　were　those　terrible　things　I　had　read　of？　　Where　was　this　hell　which　I　had　reasonably　expected　would　gape　leagues　of　sulphur　and　blue　flame　beneath　the　little　marble　table？　　I　mentally　resolved　to　bring　an　action　against　Baedeker　for　false　information。　　For　what　did　I　see？　　Simply　pairs　and　groups　of　young　men　and　women　chattering　amiably　in　front　of　their　〃bocks〃　or　their　〃Americains。〃　　Here　and　there　a　student　would　have　his　arm　round　a　waist　every　one　else　envied　him。　　One　student　was　prettily　trying　a　pair　of　new　gloves　upon　his　little　woman's　hand。　　Here　and　there　blithe　songs　would　spring　up；　from　sheer　gladness　of　heart；　and　never　was　such　a　buzz　of　happy　young　people；　not　even　at　a　Sunday…school　treat。　　To　me　it　seemed　absolutely　Arcadian；　and　I　thought　of　Daphnis　and　Chloe　and　the　early　world。　　Nothing　indecorous　or　gross；　all　perfectly　pretty　and　seemly。

On　our　way　home　Semiramis　was　so　sweet　to　me；　in　her　innocent；　artless　frankness；　that　I　went　to　bed　with　an　intoxicating　feeling　that　I　must　be　irresistible　indeed；　to　have　so　completely　conquered　so　true　a　heart　in　so　few　hours。　　I　was　the　more　flattered　because　I　am　not　a　vain　man；　and　am　not；　like　some；　accustomed　to　take　hearts　as　the　Israelites　took　Jericho　with　the　blast　of　one's　own　trumpet。

But；　alas！　my　dream　of　universal　irresistibility　was　but　short…lived；　for　next　afternoon；　as　William　and　I　sat　out　at　some　cafe　together；　I　found　myself　the　object　of　chaff。

〃Well；〃　said　William；　〃how　goes　the　love…affair？〃

I　flushed　somewhat　indignantly　at　his　manner　with　sanctities。

〃I　see！〃　he　said；　〃I　see！　　You　are　already　corded　and　labelled；　and　will　be　shipped　over　by　the　next　mail；‘To　Miss　Semiramis　Wilcox；　1001　99th　St。；　Philadelphia；　U。S。A。　　Man　with　care。'　　Well；　I　did　think　you'd　got　an　eye　in　your　head。　Look　here；　don't　be　a　fool！　　I　suppose　she　said　you　were　the　first　and　last。　　The　last　you　certainly　were。　　There　are　limits　even　to　the　speed　of　American　girls；　but　the　first；　my　boy！　　You　are　more　like　the　twelfth；　to　my　ocular　knowledge。　　Here　comes　Dubois　the　poet。　　He　can　tell　you　something　about　Miss　Semiramis。

Eh！　　Dubois；　you　know　Miss　Semiramis　Wilcox；　don't　you？〃

The　Frenchman　smiled　and　shrugged。

〃Un　peu；〃　he　said。

〃Don't　be　an　ass　and　get　angry；〃　William　continued；　〃it's　all　for　your　own　good。〃

〃The　little　Semiramis　has　been　seducing　my　susceptible　friend　here。　　Like　many　of　us；　he　has　been　captivated　by　her　naturalness；　her　naivete；　her　clear　good　eyes；that　look　of　nature　that　is　always　art！　　May　I　relate　the　idyl　of　your　tragic　passion；　dear　Dubois；　as　an　object　lesson？〃

The　Frenchman　bowed；　and　signed　William　to　proceed。

〃You　dined　with　us　one　evening；　and　you　thus　met　for　the　first　time。　　You　sat　together　at　table。　　What　happened　with　the　fish？〃

〃She　swore　I　was　the　most　beautiful　man　she　had　ever　seen；and　I　am　not　beautiful；　as　you　perceive。〃

If　not　beautiful；　the　poet　was　certainly　true。

〃What　happened　at　the　entree？〃

〃Oh；　long　before　that　we　were　pressing　our　feet　under　the　table。〃

〃And　the　coffee〃

〃Mon　Dieu！　we　were　Tristram　and　Yseult；　we　were　all　the　great　lovers　in　the　Pantheon　of　love。〃

〃And　what　then？〃

〃Oh；　we　went　to　the　Cafe　d'Harcourtmon　ami。〃

〃Did　she　wear　a　veil？〃　I　asked。

〃Oui；　certainement！〃

〃And　did　you　say；　‘Why　do　you　wear　a　veil；setting　a　black　cloud　before　the　eyes　and　gates　of　heaven'？〃

〃The　very　words；〃　said　the　Frenchman。

〃And　did　she　say；　‘Yes；　but　the　veil　can　be　raised？'　〃

〃She　did；　mon　pauvre　ami；〃　said　the　poet。

〃And　did　you　raise　it？〃

〃I　did；〃　said　the　poet。

〃And　so　did　I；〃　I　answered。　　And　as　I　spoke；　there　was　a　crash　of　white　marble　in　my　soul；　and　lo！　　Love　had　fallen　from　his　pedestal　and　been　broken　into　a　thousand　pieces；a　heavy；　dead　thing　he　lay　upon　the　threshold　of　my　heart。

We　had　appointed　a　secret　meeting　in　the　salon　of　the　pension　that　afternoon。　　I　was　not　there！　　（Nor；　as　I　afterwards　learnt；　was　Semiramis。）　　When　we　did　meet；　I　was　brutally　cold。　　I　evaded　all　her　moves；　but　when　at　last　I　decided　to　give　her　a　hearing；　I　confess　it　needed　all　my　cynicism　to　resist　her　air　of　innocence；　of　pathetic　devotion。

If　I　couldn't　love　her；　she　said；　might　she　go　on　loving　me？　　Might　she　write　to　me　sometimes？　　She　would　be　content　if　now　and　again　I　would　send　her　a　little　word。　Perhaps　in　time　I　would　grow　to　believe　in　her　love；　etc。

The　heart…broken　abandonment　with　which　she　said　this　was　a　sore　trial　to　me；　but　though　love　may　be　deceived；　vanity　is　ever　vigilant；　and　vanity　saved　me。　　Yet　I　left　her　with　an　aching　sense　of　having　been　a　brute；　and　on　the　morning　of　my　departure　from　Paris；　as　I　said　good…bye　to　William　and　Dora；　I　spoke　somewhat　seriously　of　Semiramis。　Dora；　Dora…like；　had　believed　in　her　all　along；not　having　enjoyed　William's　opportunities　of　studying　her；and　she　reproached　me　with　being　rather　hard…hearted。

〃Nonsense；〃　said　William；　〃if　she　really　cared；　wouldn't　she　have　been　up　to　bid　you　good…bye？〃

The　words　were　hardly　gone　from　his　lips　when　there　came　a　little　knock　at　the　door。　It　was　Semiramis；　she　had　come　to　say　good…　bye。　　Was　it　in　nature　not　to　be　touched？　〃Good…bye；〃　she　said；　as　we　stood　a　moment　alone　in　the　hall。　　〃I　shall　always　think　of　you；　you　shall　not　be　to　me　as　a　ship　that　has　passed　in　the　night；　though　to　me　you　have　behaved　very　like　an　iceberg。〃

We　parted　in　tears　and　kisses；　and　I　lived　for　some　weeks　with　that　sense　of　having　been　a　Nero；　till　two　months　after　I　received　a　much　glazed　and　silvered　card　to　the　usual　effect。

And　so　I　ceased　to　repine　for　the　wound　I　had　made　in　the　heart　of　Semiramis　Wilcox。

Of　another　whom　I　met　and　loved　in　that　brief　month　in　Paris；　I　cherish　tenderer　memories。　　Prim　little　Pauline　Deschapelles！　How　clearly　I　can　still　see　the　respectable　brass　plate　on　the　door　of　your　little　flat　〃Mademoiselle　DeschapellesModes　et　Robes；〃　and　indeed　the　〃modes　et　robes〃　were　true　enough。　　For　you　were　in　truth　a　very　hard…working　little　dressmaker；　and　I　well　remember　how　impressed　I　was　to　sit　beside　you；　as　you　plied　your　needle　on　some　gown　that　must　be　finished　by　the　evening；　and　meditate　on　the　quaint　contrast　between　your　almost　Puritanic　industry　and　your　innocent　love　of　pleasure。　　I　don't　think　I　ever　met　a　more　conscientious　little　woman　than　little　Pauline　Deschapelles。

There　was　but　one　drawback　to　our　intercourse。　　She　didn't　know　a　word　of　English；　and　I　couldn't　speak　a　word　of　French。　　So　we　had　to　make　shift　to　love　without　either　language。　　But　sometimes　Pauline　would　throw　down　her　stitching　in　amused　impatience；　and；　going　to　her　dainty　secretaire；　write　me　a　little　message　in　the　simplest　baby　Frenchwhich　I　would　answer　in　French　which　would　knit　her　brows　for　a　moment　or　two；　and　then　send　her　off　in　peals　of　laughter。

It　WAS　French！　　I　know。　　Among　the　bric…a…brac　of　my　heart　I　still　cherish　some　of　those　little　slips　of　paper　with　which　we　made　international　lovequestion　and　answer。

〃Vous　allez　m'oublier；　et　ne　plus　penser　a　moini　m