New Orleans (La.) -- Fiction; Women -- Louisiana -- Fiction
It is not necessary, perhaps, to explain that last clause. It is very
little consolation for wives that their husbands have forgotten, when
some one else remembers. Some one else! Ah! there could be so many
some one Else's in the General's life, for in truth he had been
irresistible to excess. But this was one particular some one else who
had been faithful for five years. Which one?
When Madame Honorine solves that enigma she has made up her mind how
to act.
As for Journel, it amused him more and more. He would go away from the
little cottage rubbing his hands with pleasure (he never saw Madame
Honorine, by the way, only the General). He would have given far more
than thirty dollars a month for this drama; for he was not only rich,
but a great _farceur_.
LA GRANDE DEMOISELLE
That was what she was called by everybody as soon as she was seen or
described. Her name, besides baptismal titles, was Idalie Sainte Foy
Mortemart des Islets. When she came into society, in the brilliant
little world of New Orleans, it was the event of the season, and after
she came in, whatever she did became also events. Whether she went, or
did not go; what she said, or did not say; what she wore, and did not
wear--all these became important matters of discussion, quoted as much
or more than what the president said, or the governor thought. And
in those days, the days of '59, New Orleans was not, as it is now, a
one-heiress place, but it may be said that one could find heiresses
then as one finds type-writing girls now.
Mademoiselle Idalie received her birth, and what education she had, on
her parents' plantation, the famed old Reine Sainte Foy place, and
it is no secret that, like the ancient kings of France, her birth
exceeded her education.
It was a plantation, the Reine Sainte Foy, the richness and luxury of
which are really well described in those fervid pictures of tropical
life, at one time the passion of philanthropic imaginations, excited
and exciting over the horrors of slavery. Although these pictures were
then often accused of being purposely exaggerated, they seem now to
fall short of, instead of surpassing, the truth. Stately walls, acres
of roses, miles of oranges, unmeasured fields of cane, colossal
sugar-house--they were all there, and all the rest of it, with the
slaves, slaves, slaves everywhere, whole villages of negro cabins. And
there were also, most noticeable to the natural, as well as to
the visionary, eye--there were the ease, idleness, extravagance,
self-indulgence, pomp, pride, arrogance, in short the whole
enumeration, the moral _sine qua non_, as some people considered it,
of the wealthy slaveholder of aristocratic descent and tastes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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