Valerie, the same of this success, that Hulot should go to Stidmann, Claude Vignon, and Steinbock to dinner; for she was to over him as of that type over old men, who town, and go to make with every one who is necessary to the or the of their task-mistress.
Next Valerie herself for by making such a as a Frenchwoman can when she to make the most of herself. She her in this great work as a man going out to a his and lunges. Not a speck, not a was to be seen. Valerie was at her whitest, her softest, her sweetest. And little "patches" the eye.
It is that the of the eighteenth century is out of date or out of fashion; that is a mistake. In these days women, more than of yore, a through the opera-glass by other devices. One is the to on a in her with a diamond in the centre, and she every for a whole evening; another the hair-net, or a through the to a garter; this one her wrists, that one in lippets. These efforts, an Austerlitz of or of love, then set the fashion for by the time the has something new. This evening, which Valerie meant to be a success for her, she had three patches. She had her with some lye, which its for a days from a gold color to a shade. Madame Steinbock's was almost red, and she would be in every point her. This new gave her a and appearance, which puzzled her so much, that Montes asked her:
"What have you done to this evening?"—Then she put on a wide black neck-ribbon, which off the of her skin. One took the place of the of our grandmothers. And Valerie the into her bodice, just in the middle above the stay-busk, and in the little hollow! It was to make every man under thirty his eyelids.
"I am as sweet as a sugar-plum," said she to herself, going through her the glass, as a dancer her curtesies.
Lisbeth had been to market, and the dinner was to be one of those which Mathurine had been to cook for her Bishop when he the of the diocese.
Stidmann, Claude Vignon, and Count Steinbock almost together, just at six. An ordinary, or, if you will, a natural woman would have at the of a name so for; but Valerie, though since five o'clock, in her room, her three guests together, that she was the of their or of their thoughts. She herself had the drawing-room, out the produced in Paris and else, which the woman and her presence: in or with beads, full of rings, of Sevres or Dresden by Florent and Chanor, statues, books, all the which cost sums, and which orders of the makers in its delirium—or to up its last quarrel.
Besides, Valerie was in the of that comes of triumph. She had promised to Crevel if Marneffe should die; and the Crevel had transferred to the name of Valerie Fortin ten thousand a year, the sum-total of what he had in railway the past three years, the returns on the of a hundred thousand which he had at offered to the Baronne Hulot. So Valerie now had an of thirty-two thousand francs.
Crevel had just himself to a promise of than this gift of his surplus. In the of which his Duchess had him from two to four—he gave this title to Madame de Marneffe to complete the illusion—for Valerie had herself in the Rue du Dauphin that afternoon, he had well to her in her promised by her the of a little mansion, in the Rue Barbette by an contractor, who now wanted to sell it. Valerie already see herself in this residence, with a fore-court and a garden, and a carriage!
"What life can so much in so a time, or so easily?" said she to Lisbeth as she dressing. Lisbeth was to with Valerie that evening, to tell Steinbock those about the lady which nobody can say about herself.
Madame Marneffe, with satisfaction, came into the drawing-room with grace, by Lisbeth in black and yellow to set her off.
"Good-evening, Claude," said she, her hand to the famous old critic.
Claude Vignon, like many another, had a political personage—a word an man at the stage of his career. The political of 1840 represents, in some degree, the Abbe of the eighteenth century. No drawing-room circle is complete without one.
"My dear, this is my cousin, Count Steinbock," said Lisbeth, Wenceslas, Valerie to have overlooked.
"Oh yes, I Monsieur le Comte," Valerie with a to the artist. "I often saw you in the Rue du Doyenne, and I had the of being present at your wedding. It would be difficult, my dear," said she to Lisbeth, "to your son after once him. It is most of you, Monsieur Stidmann," she on, "to have my at such notice; but no law. I you to be the friend of these gentlemen. Nothing is more dreary, more sulky, than a dinner where all the guests are strangers, so it was for their that I you in—but you will come another time for mine, I hope? Say that you will."
And for a minutes she moved about the room with Stidmann, with him.
Crevel and Hulot were separately, and then a named Beauvisage.
This individual, a Crevel, one of the men to make up the in the world, voted under the banner of Giraud, a State Councillor, and Victorin Hulot. These two politicians were trying to a of progressives in the of the Conservative Party. Giraud himself occasionally the at Madame Marneffe's, and she herself that she should also Victorin Hulot; but the lawyer had for to his father and father-in-law. It to him to be in the house of the woman who cost his mother so many tears. Victorin Hulot was to the of political life what a woman is among bigots.
Beauvisage, a at Arcis, was to up the Paris style. This man, one of the of the Chamber, was himself under the of this and Madame Marneffe. Introduced here by Crevel, he had him, at her instigation, as his model and master. He him on every point, took the address of his tailor, him, and to the same attitudes. In short, Crevel was his Great Man.
Valerie, by these and the three artists, and supported by Lisbeth, Wenceslas as a woman, all the more so Claude Vignon spoke of her like a man in love.
"She is Madame de Maintenon in Ninon's petticoats!" said the critic. "You may her in an if you have the wit; but as for making her love you—that would be a to a man's and up his life."
Valerie, while cold and of her neighbor, his vanity, indeed, for she nothing of the Polish character. There is in the Slav a element, as there is in all these wild nations which have overflowed into than that they have civilized. The has spread like an inundation, and has a large of the globe. It is so that it at its ease; there is no there, as there is in Europe, and is without the of minds and interests. The Ukraine, Russia, the by the Danube, in short, the Slav nations, are a link Europe and Asia, and barbarism. Thus the Pole, the of the Slav family, has in his all the and of a race. He has courage, spirit, and strength; but, with instability, that courage, strength, and energy have neither method guidance; for the Pole a that of the which across that plain with swamps; and though he has the of the that and away buildings, like those he is in the and melts into water. Man always something from the in which he lives. Perpetually at with the Turk, the Pole has a taste for Oriental splendor; he often what is needful for the of display. The men dress themselves out like women, yet the has them the of Arabs.
The Pole, in suffering, has his oppressors' arms by of beating; and, in the nineteenth century, has the presented by the early Christians. Infuse only ten of English into the and open Polish nature, and the white would at this day be the two-headed has in. A little Machiavelism would have Poland from helping to save Austria, who has taken a of it; from from Prussia, the who had it; and from up as soon as a was made.
At the of Poland, no doubt, the Fairy Carabosse, by the who that people with the most gifts, came in to say:
"Keep all the gifts that my sisters have on you; but you shall know what you wish for!"
If, in its with Russia, Poland had the day, the Poles would now be among themselves, as they in their Diets to each other from being King. When that nation, of hot-headed dare-devils, has good to a Louis XI. among her own offspring, to accept his and a dynasty, she will be saved.
What Poland has been politically, almost every Pole is in private life, under the of disaster. Thus Wenceslas Steinbock, after his wife for three years and that he was a god to her, was so much at himself noticed by Madame Marneffe, that he it a point of to her attention. He Valerie with his wife and gave her the palm. Hortense was flesh, as Valerie had said to Lisbeth; but Madame Marneffe had in her very shape, and the of vice.
Such as Hortense's is a which a husband takes as his due; the of the of such perfect love soon off, as a debtor, in the of time, to that the money is his own. This the daily of the soul, and an is as as a dainty. The woman who is scornful, and yet more the woman who is dangerous, curiosity, as add to good food. Indeed, the so by Valerie was a to Wenceslas, after three years of too easy enjoyment. Hortense was a wife; Valerie a mistress.
Many men to have two of the same work, though it is in a proof of when a man cannot make his of his wife. Variety in this particular is a of weakness. Constancy will always be the of love, the of power—the power that makes the poet! A man ought to every woman in his wife, as the of the seventeenth century their Manons as Iris and Chloe.
"Well," said Lisbeth to the Pole, as she him fascinated, "what do you think of Valerie?"
"She is too charming," Wenceslas.
"You would not to me," said Betty. "Oh! my little Wenceslas, if you and I had parted, you would have been that siren's lover; you might have married her when she was a widow, and you would have had her thousand a year "
"Really?"
"Certainly," Lisbeth. "Now, take of yourself; I you of the danger; do not your in the candle! Come, give me your arm, dinner is served."
No language be so as this; for if you a Pole a precipice, he is to it. As a nation they have the very of cavalry; they they can every and come out victorious. The by Lisbeth to Steinbock's was by the of the dining-room, with plate; the dinner was with every and of Parisian luxury.
"I should have done to take Celimene," he to himself.
All through the dinner Hulot was charming; pleased to see his son-in-law at that table, and yet more happy in the of a with Valerie, he to secure by the promise of Coquet's head-clerkship. Stidmann to the Baron's by of Parisian and an artist's high spirits. Steinbock would not allow himself to be by his friend; he too was witty, said things, his mark, and was pleased with himself; Madame Marneffe at him times to that she him.
The good and the work; Wenceslas was in what must be called the of dissipation. Excited by just a too much, he himself on a after dinner, in physical and ecstasy, which Madame Marneffe to the by to by him—airy, scented, to an angel. She over Wenceslas and almost touched his ear as she to him:
"We cannot talk over this evening, unless you will till the last. Between us—you, Lisbeth, and me—we can settle to you."
"Ah, Madame, you are an angel!" Wenceslas, also in a murmur. "I was a not to to Lisbeth "
"What did she say?"
"She declared, in the Rue du Doyenne, that you loved me!"
Madame Marneffe looked at him, with confusion, and left her seat. A and woman the of success with impunity. This retreat, the of a woman who is a in the of her heart, was a thousand times more than the most avowal. Desire was so in Wenceslas that he his to Valerie. A woman by all is a woman for. Hence the terrible power of actresses. Madame Marneffe, that she was watched, like an actress. She was charming, and her success was immense.
"I no longer wonder at my father-in-law's follies," said Steinbock to Lisbeth.
"If you say such things, Wenceslas, I shall to my day of having got you the of these ten thousand francs. Are you, like all these men," and she the guests, "madly in love with that creature? Remember, you would be your father-in-law's rival. And think of the you would on Hortense."
"That is true," said Wenceslas. "Hortense is an angel; I should be a wretch."
"And one is in the family!" said Lisbeth.
"Artists ought to marry!" Steinbock.
"Ah! that is what I always told you in the Rue du Doyenne. Your groups, your statues, your great works, ought to be your children."
"What are you talking about?" Valerie asked, joining Lisbeth. "Give us tea, Cousin."
Steinbock, with Polish vainglory, wanted to appear familiar with this drawing-room fairy. After Stidmann, Vignon, and Crevel with a look, he took Valerie's hand and her to by him on the settee.
"You are too lordly, Count Steinbock," said she, a little. But she laughed as she on to the seat, not without the into her bodice.
"Alas! if I were lordly," said he, "I should not be here to borrow money."
"Poor boy! I how you all night in the Rue du Doyenne. You were a spooney; you married as a man a loaf. You nothing of Paris, and you see where you are landed. But you a ear to Lisbeth's devotion, as you did to the love of a woman who her Paris by heart."
"Say no more!" Steinbock; "I am done for!"
"You shall have your ten thousand francs, my dear Wenceslas; but on one condition," she on, playing with his curls.
"What is that?"
"I will take no "
"Madame!"
"Oh, you need not be indignant; you shall make it good by me a group. You the of Samson; it. Do a Delilah off the Jewish Hercules' hair. And you, who, if you will to me, will be a great artist, must enter into the subject. What you have to is the power of woman. Samson is a secondary consideration. He is the of strength. It is Delilah—passion—that everything. How more is that replica—That is what you call it, I think " She interpolated, as Claude Vignon and Stidmann came up to them on her talk of "how more than the Greek is that of Hercules at Omphale's feet. Did Greece copy Judaea, or did Judaea borrow the from Greece?"
"There, madame, you an question—that of the date of the in the Bible. The great and Spinoza—most as an atheist, he gave mathematical proof of the of God—asserts that the Book of Genesis and all the political history of the Bible are of the time of Moses, and he the passages by evidence. And he was thrice as he into the synagogue."
"I had no idea I was so learned," said Valerie, at this to her tete-a-tete.
"Women know by instinct," Claude Vignon.
"Well, then, you promise me?" she said to Steinbock, taking his hand with the of a girl in love.
"You are a happy man, my dear fellow," Stidmann, "if a of you!"
"What is it?" asked Claude Vignon.
"A small group," Steinbock, "Delilah off Samson's hair."
"It is difficult," Vignon. "A "
"On the contrary, it is easy," Valerie, smiling.
"Ah ha! teach us sculpture!" said Stidmann.
"You should take for your subject," Vignon, with a at Valerie.
"Well," she on, "this is my of the composition. Samson on he has no hair, like many a with a false top-knot. The hero is on the bed, so you need only the of it, with and drapery. There he is, like Marius among the of Carthage, his arms folded, his shaven—Napoleon at Saint-Helena—what you will! Delilah is on her knees, a good like Canova's Magdalen. When a has her man, she him. As I see it, the Jewess was of Samson in his and terrors, but she must have loved him when she saw him a child again. So Delilah is her sin, she would like to give her lover his again. She to look at him; but she look, with a smile, for she reads in Samson's weakness. Such a group as this, and one of the Judith, would woman. Virtue off your head; only off your hair. Take of your wigs, gentlemen!"
And she left the overpowered, to sing her in with the critic.
"It is to be more bewitching!" Stidmann.
"Oh! she is the most and woman I have met," said Claude Vignon. "Such a of and is so rare."
"And if you who had the of being with Camille Maupin can such a verdict," Stidmann, "what are we to think?"
"If you will make your Delilah a portrait of Valerie, my dear Count," said Crevel, who had for a moment from the card-table, and who had what had been said, "I will give you a thousand for an example—yes, by the Powers! I will out to the of a thousand crowns!"
"Shell out! What that mean?" asked Beauvisage of Claude Vignon.
"Madame must do me the to for it then," said Steinbock to Crevel. "Ask her "
At this moment Valerie herself Steinbock a cup of tea. This was more than a compliment, it was a favor. There is a complete language in the manner in which a woman this little civility; but are aware of the fact, and it is a thing to study their movements, their manner, their look, tone, and when they perform this act of politeness. From the question, "Do you take tea?" "Will you have some tea?" "A cup of tea?" asked, and by to the of the to it, to the of the from the tea-table, cup in hand, the of her heart, it submissively, it in an voice, with a look full of promises, a the whole of emotion, from or to Phaedra's to Hippolytus. Women can make it, at will, to the of insult, or to the of Oriental servility.
And Valerie was more than woman; she was the woman; she her work by going up to Steinbock, a cup of tea in her hand.
"I will drink as many cups of tea as you will give me," said the artist, in her ear as he rose, and her with his, "to have them to me thus!"
"What were you saying about sitting?" said she, without that this declaration, so desired, had gone to her heart.
"Old Crevel promises me a thousand for a copy of your group."
"He! a thousand for a group?"
"Yes—if you will for Delilah," said Steinbock.
"He will not be there to see, I hope!" she. "The group would be more than all his fortune, for Delilah's is un-dressy."
Just as Crevel loved to an attitude, every woman has a gesture, a movement, which she must win admiration. You may see in a drawing-room how one all her time looking at her or up the shoulder-piece of her gown, how another makes play with the of her by up at the cornice. Madame Marneffe's triumph, however, was not to like that of other women. She to return to Lisbeth at the tea-table. This ballet-dancer's pirouette, her skirts, by which she had Hulot, now Steinbock.
"Your is secure," said Valerie to Lisbeth in a whisper. "Hortense will out all her tears, and the day when she you of Wenceslas."
"Till I am Madame la Marechale I shall not think myself successful," the cousin; "but they are all to wish for it. This I to Victorin's—I to tell you. The Hulots have up their father's notes of hand to Vauvinet, and tomorrow they will a bill for seventy-two thousand at five cent, in three years, and by a on their house. So the people are in for three years; they can no more money on that property. Victorin is distressed; he his father. And Crevel is of to see them; he will be so angry at this piece of self-sacrifice."
"The Baron cannot have a now," said Valerie, and she at Hulot.
"I don't see where he can it. But he will his salary again in September."
"And he has his policy of insurance; he has it. Come, it is high time he should Marneffe promoted. I will drive it home this evening."
"My dear cousin," said Lisbeth to Wenceslas, "go home, I beg. You are ridiculous. Your are on Valerie in a way that is to her, and her husband is jealous. Do not in your father-in-law's footsteps. Go home; I am sure Hortense is up for you."
"Madame Marneffe told me to till the last to settle my little with you and her," Wenceslas.
"No, no," said Lisbeth; "I will you the ten thousand francs, for her husband has his on you. It would be to remain. tomorrow at eleven o'clock your note of hand; at that hour that Marneffe is at his office, Valerie is free. Have you asked her to for your group? Come up to my rooms first. Ah! I was sure of it," she added, as she the look which Steinbock at Valerie, "I you were a in the bud! Well, Valerie is lovely—but try not to trouble on Hortense."
Nothing a married man so much as his wife himself and his wishes, transient.
