"At this period of the story I became intimate with Claudine, whose
acquaintance I had previously but hurriedly made when travelling. It
was in Trouville. You know how swiftly people become intimate in a
watering-place. She introduced to me the victor in the endless row of
suitors for her hand. After careful examination I could not altogether
agree with her choice. In most points, it is true, he answered the
requirements of the programme. He was no longer young--fifty-one,
or -two; held a high command in the army, and brought her as dower a
not inglorious past. He had led a wild and wandering life, and been the
hero of a thousand adventures, but there was not the slightest stain
upon his name--at least not in the eyes of society. Moreover, though
not an intellectual man,--which she would have disliked in the long
run,--he was one of those who are able to captivate even the most
fastidious company, by their quick perception, their lively
temperament, and their varied and abundant experience, upon which they
can, aided by an excellent memory and natural eloquence, draw at all
times. All this was, as I said, excellent as far as it went; but one
thing I thought very hazardous--it seemed by no means impossible to me
that he should still be capable of a serious, passionate attachment,
and--this comes, almost to the same thing--still capable of inspiring
it. Now, either lay assuredly beyond the programme which my friend had
sketched out for herself.
"I told Claudine of my fears. She endeavoured to argue me out of them
thus: 'What you think to be real and direct light,' she would say, 'is
nothing but the reflection of the sun that set long ago upon glacial
Alpine summits. It looks beautiful, and people cry, Ah! and Oh! when
they see it; and for their sake I would not willingly miss it. But one
cannot be warmed by it, or set on fire by it! My dear child, with all
that blaze you could not make your kettle boil, far less rekindle the
bitter and bare embers of a heart like mine!'
"As far as the gentleman was concerned, Claudine might be right. At
least the somewhat boastful and exaggerated gallantry with which he
laid his homage at her feet corresponded, as far as I could judge,
exactly with her prediction. But how greatly she had been mistaken
about herself the immediate future was to show.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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