When Adrienne's look first rested on this rare assemblage of divine perfections, her countenance was calm and thoughtful.But this contemplation, at first mechanical, became gradually more and more attentive and conscious, and the young lady, rising suddenly from her seat, slowly approached the bas-relief, as if yielding to the invincible attraction of an extraordinary resemblance.Then a slight blush appeared on the cheeks of Mdlle.de Cardoville, stole across her face, and spread rapidly to her neck and forehead.She approached still closer, threw round a hasty glance, as if half-ashamed, or as if she had feared to be surprised in a blamable action, and twice stretched forth her hand, trembling with emotion, to touch with the tips of her charming fingers the bronze forehead of the Indian Bacchus.And twice she stopped short, with a kind of modest hesitation.At last, the temptation became too strong for her.She yielded to it; and her alabaster finger, after delicately caressing the features of pale gold, was pressed more boldly for an instant on the pure and noble brow of the youthful god.At this pressure, though so slight, Adrienne seemed to feel a sort of electric shock; she trembled in every limb, her eyes languished, and, after swimming for an instant in their humid and brilliant crystal, were raised, half-closed, to heaven.Then her head was thrown a little way back, her knees bent insensibly, her rosy lips were half opened, as if to give a passage to her heated breath, for her bosom heaved violently, as thought youth and life had accelerated the pulsations of her heart, and made her blood boil in her veins.Finally, the burning cheeks of Adrienne betrayed a species of ecstasy, timid and passionate, chaste and sensual, the expression of which was ineffably touching.
An affecting spectacle indeed is that of a young maiden, whose modest brow flushes with the first fires of a secret passion.Does not the Creator of all things animate the body as well as the soul, with a spark of divine energy? Should He not be religiously glorified in the intellect as in the senses, with which He has so paternally endowed His creatures? They are impious blasphemers who seek to stifle the celestial senses, instead of guiding and harmonizing them in their divine flight.
Suddenly, Mdlle.de Cardoville started, raised her head, opened her eyes as if awakening from a dream, withdrew abruptly from the sculptures, and walked several times up and down the room in an agitated manner, pressing her burning hands to her forehead.Then, falling, as it were, exhausted on her seat, her tears flowed in abundance.The most bitter grief was visible in her features, which revealed the fatal struggle that was passing within her.By degrees, her tears ceased.To this crisis of painful dejection succeeded a species of violent scorn and indignation against herself, which were expressed by these words that escaped her:
"For the first time in my life, I feel weak and cowardly.Oh yes!
cowardly--very cowardly!"
The sound of a door opening and closing, roused Mdlle.de Cardoville from her bitter reflections.Georgette entered the room, and said to her mistress: "Madame, can you receive the Count de Montbron?"
Adrienne, too well-bred to exhibit before her women the sort of impatience occasioned by this unseasonable visit, said to Georgette: "You told M.de Montbron that I was at home?"
"Yes, Madame."
"Then beg him to walk in." Though Mdlle.de Cardoville felt at that moment much vexed at the arrival of Montbron, let us hasten to say, that she entertained for him an almost filial affection, and a profound esteem, though, by a not unfrequent contrast, she almost always differed from him in opinion.Hence arose, when Mdlle.de Cardoville had nothing to disturb her mind, the most gay and animated discussions, in which M.
de Montbron, notwithstanding his mocking and sceptical humor, his long experience, his rare knowledge of men and things, his fashionable training, in a word, had not always the advantage, and even acknowledged his defeat gayly enough.Thus, to give an idea of the differences of the count and Adrienne, before, as he would say laughingly, he had made himself her accomplice, he had always opposed (from other motives than those alleged by Madame de Saint-Dizier) Adrienne's wish to live alone and in her own way; whilst Rodin, on the contrary, by investing the young girl's resolve on this subject with an ideal grandeur of intention, had acquired a species of influence over her.M.de Montbron, now upwards of sixty years of age, had been a most prominent character during the Directory, Consulate, and the Empire.His prodigal style of living, his wit, his gayety, his duels, his amours, and his losses at play, had given him a leading influence in the best society of his day; while his character, his kind-heartedness, and liberality, secured him the lasting friendship of nearly all his female friends.At the time we now present him to the reader, he was still a great gambler; and, moreover, a very lucky gambler.He had, as we have stated, a very lordly style; his manners were decided, but polished and lively; his habits were such as belong to the higher classes of society, though he could be excessively sharp towards people whom he did not like.He was tall and thin, and his slim figure gave him an almost youthful appearance; his forehead was high, and a little bald; his hair was gray and short, his countenance long, his nose aquiline, his eyes blue and piercing, and his teeth white, and still very good.
"The Count de Montbron," said Georgette, opening the door.The count entered, and hastened to kiss Adrienne's hand, with a sort of paternal familiarity.
"Come!" said M.de Montbron to himself; "let us try to discover the truth I am in search of, that we may escape a great misfortune."