Jacqueline, vol 2 | Page 8

about her in the
world of society."
Poor Fred kept silent, trying to curb his wrath. But the blood mounted
to his temples as he listened to these remarks, poured into his ear by a
man of thirty-five, between puffs of his cigar, because there was
nobody else to whom he could make them. But they seemed to Fred
very ill- mannered and ill-timed. If he had not dreaded making himself
absurd, he would gladly have stood forth as the champion of the Sparks,
the Wermants, and all the other members of the Blue Band, so that he
might give vent to the anger raging in his heart on hearing that odious
compliment to Jacqueline. Why was he not old enough to marry her?
What right had that detestable Talbrun to take notice of any girl but his
fiancee? If he himself could marry now, his choice would soon be made!
No doubt, later--as his mother had said to him. But would Jacqueline
wait? Everybody was beginning to admire her. Somebody would carry
her off--somebody would cut him out while he was away at sea. Oh,
horrible thought for a young lover!
That night, at the Casino, while dancing a quadrille with Giselle, he
could not refrain from saying to her, "Don't you object to Monsieur de
Talbrun's dancing so much with Jacqueline?"
"Who?--I?" she cried, astonished, "I don't see why he should not." And
then, with a faint laugh, she added: "Oh, if she would only take him--
and keep him!"
But Madame de Monredon kept a sharp eye upon M. de Talbrun. "It
seems to me," she said, looking fixedly into the face of her future
grandson-in- law, "that you really take pleasure in making children skip
about with you."

"So I do," he replied, frankly and good-humoredly. "It makes me feel
young again."
And Madame de Monredon was satisfied. She was ready to admit that
most men marry women who have not particularly enchanted them, and
she had brought up Giselle with all those passive qualities, which,
together with a large fortune, usually suit best with a 'mariage de
convenance'.
Meantime Jacqueline piqued herself upon her worldly wisdom, which
she looked upon as equal to Madame de Monredon's, since the terrible
event which had filled her mind with doubts. She thought M. de
Talbrun would do well enough for a husband, and she took care to say
so to Giselle.
"It is a fact," she told her, with all the self-confidence of large
experience, "that men who are very fascinating always remain
bachelors. That is probably why Monsieur de Cymier, Madame de
Villegry's handsome cousin, does not think of marrying."
She was mistaken. The Comte de Cymier, a satellite who revolved
around that star of beauty, Madame de Villegry, had been by degrees
brought round by that lady herself to thoughts of matrimony.
Madame de Villegry, notwithstanding her profuse use of henna and
many cosmetics, which was always the first thing to strike those who
saw her, prided herself on being uncompromised as to her moral
character. There are some women who, because they stop short of
actual vice, consider themselves irreproachable. They are willing, so to
speak, to hang out the bush, but keep no tavern. In former times an
appearance of evil was avoided in order to cover evil deeds, but at
present there are those who, under the cover of being only "fast," risk
the appearance of evil.
Madame de Villegry was what is sometimes called a "professional
beauty." She devoted many hours daily to her toilette, she liked to have
a crowd of admirers around her. But when one of them became too
troublesome, she got rid of him by persuading him to marry. She had

before this proposed several young girls to Gerard de Cymier, each one
plainer and more insignificant than the others. It was to tell his dear
friend that the one she had last suggested was positively too ugly for
him, that the young attache to an embassy had come down to the
sea-side to visit her.
The day after his arrival he was sitting on the shingle at Madame de
Villegry's feet, both much amused by the grotesque spectacle presented
by the bathers, who exhibited themselves in all degrees of ugliness and
deformity. Of course Madame de Villegry did not bathe, being, as she
said, too nervous. She was sitting under a large parasol and enjoying
her own superiority over those wretched, amphibious creatures who
waddled on the sands before her, comparing Madame X to a seal and
Mademoiselle Z to the skeleton of a cuttle-fish.
"Well! it was that kind of thing you wished me to marry," said M. de
Cymier, in a tone of resentment.
"But, my poor friend, what would you have? All young girls are like