CHAPTER 4 - MADEMOISELLE CORMO
In nearly all the second-class prefectures of France there exist one salon which is the meeting-ground of those considerable an well-considered persons of the community who are, nevertheless, _not the cream of the best society. The master and mistress of such a establishment are counted among the leading persons of the town; the are received wherever it may please them to visit; no fete is given, n formal or diplomatic dinner takes place, to which they are not invited But the chateau people, heads of families possessing great estates in short, the highest personages in the department, do not go to thei houses; social intercourse between them is carried on by cards from on to the other, and a dinner or soiree accepted and returned
This salon, in which the lesser nobility, the clergy, and the magistrac meet together, exerts a great influence. The judgment and mind of th region reside in that solid, unostentatious society, where each ma knows the resources of his neighbor, where complete indifference i shown to luxury and dress,--pleasures which are thought childish i comparison to that of obtaining ten or twelve acres of pasture land,-- purchase coveted for years, which has probably given rise to endles diplomatic combinations. Immovable in its prejudices, good or evil this social circle follows a beaten track, looking neither before it no behind it. It accepts nothing from Paris without long examination an trial; it rejects cashmeres as it does investments on the Grand-Livre it scoffs at fashions and novelties; reads nothing, prefers ignorance whether of science, literature, or industrial inventions. It insists o the removal of a prefect when that official does not suit it; and if th administration resists, it isolates him, after the manner of bees wh wall up a snail in wax when it gets into their hive
In this society gossip is often turned into solemn verdicts. Young wome are seldom seen there; when they come it is to seek approbation o their conduct,--a consecration of their self-importance. This supremac granted to one house is apt to wound the sensibilities of other native of the region, who console themselves by adding up the cost it involves and by which they profit. If it so happens that there is no fortun large enough to keep open house in this way, the big-wigs of the plac choose a place of meeting, as they did at Alencon, in the house of som inoffensive person, whose settled life and character and position offer no umbrage to the vanities or the interests of any one
For some years the upper classes of Alencon had met in this way at th house of an old maid, whose fortune was, unknown to herself, the ai and object of Madame Granson, her second cousin, and of the two ol bachelors whose secret hopes in that direction we have just unveiled This lady lived with her maternal uncle, a former grand-vicar of th bishopric of Seez, once her guardian, and whose heir she was. The famil of which Rose-Marie-Victoire Cormon was the present representative ha been in earlier days among the most considerable in the province. Thoug belonging to the middle classes, she consorted with the nobility, amon whom she was more or less allied, her family having furnished, in pas years, stewards to the Duc d'Alencon, many magistrates to the long robe and various bishops to the clergy. Monsieur de Sponde, the materna grandfather of Mademoiselle Cormon, was elected by the Nobility to th States-General, and Monsieur Cormon, her father, by the Tiers-Etat though neither accepted the mission. For the last hundred years th daughters of the family had married nobles belonging to the provinces consequently, this family had thrown out so many suckers throughout th duchy as to appear on nearly all the genealogical trees. No bourgeoi family had ever seemed so like nobility
The house in which Mademoiselle Cormon lived, build in Henri IV.'s time by Pierre Cormon, the steward of the last Duc d'Alencon, had alway belonged to the family; and among the old maid's visible possession this one was particularly stimulating to the covetous desires of the tw old lovers. Yet, far from producing revenue, the house was a cause o expense. But it is so rare to find in the very centre of a provincia town a private dwelling without unpleasant surroundings, handsome i outward structure and convenient within, that Alencon shared the envy o the lovers
This old mansion stands exactly in the middle of the rue du Val-Noble It is remarkable for the strength of its construction,--a style o building introduced by Marie de' Medici. Though built of granite,-- stone which is hard to work,--its angles, and the casings of the door and windows, are decorated with corner blocks cut into diamond facets It has only one clear story above the ground-floor; but the roof, risin steeply, has several projecting windows, with carved spandrels rathe elegantly enclosed in oaken frames, and externally adorned wit balustrades. Between each of these windows is a gargoyle presenting th fantastic jaws of an animal without a body, vomiting the rain-water upo large stones pierced with five holes. The two gables are surmounted b leaden bouquets,--a symbol of the bourgeoisie; for nobles alone ha the privilege in former days of having weather-vanes. To right o the courtyard are the stables and coach-house; to left, the kitchen wood-house, and laundry
One side of the porte-cochere, being left open, allowed the passers i the street to see in the midst of the vast courtyard a flower-bed, th raised earth of which was held in place by a low privet hedge. A fe monthly roses, pinkes, lilies, and Spanish broom filled this bed, aroun which in the summer season boxes of paurestinus, pomegranates, an myrtle were placed. Struck by the scrupulous cleanliness of th courtyard and its dependencies, a stranger would at once have divine that the place belonged to an old maid. The eye which presided ther must have been an unoccupied, ferreting eye; minutely careful, less fro nature than for want of something to do. An old maid, forced to emplo her vacant days, could alone see to the grass being hoed from betwee the paving stones, the tops of the walls kept clean, the broo continually going, and the leather curtains of the coach-house alway closed. She alone would have introduced, out of busy idleness, a sor of Dutch cleanliness into a house on the confines of Bretagne an Normandie,--a region where they take pride in professing an utte indifference to comfort
Never did the Chevalier de Valois, or du Bousquier, mount the steps o the double stairway leading to the portico of this house without sayin to himself, one, that it was fit for a peer of France, the other, tha the mayor of the town ought to live there
A glass door gave entrance from this portico into an antechamber, species of gallery paved in red tiles and wainscoted, which served as hospital for the family portraits,--some having an eye put out, other suffering from a dislocated shoulder; this one held his hat in a han that no longer existed; that one was a case of amputation at the knee Here were deposited the cloaks, clogs, overshoes, umbrellas, hoods, an pelisses of the guests. It was an arsenal where each arrival left hi baggage on arriving, and took it up when departing. Along each wall wa a bench for the servants who arrived with lanterns, and a large stove to counteract the north wind, which blew through this hall from th garden to the courtyard
The house was divided in two equal parts. On one side, toward th courtyard, was the well of the staircase, a large dining-room looking t the garden, and an office or pantry which communicated with the kitchen On the other side was the salon, with four windows, beyond which wer two smaller rooms,--one looking on the garden, and used as a boudoir the other lighted from the courtyard, and used as a sort of office
The upper floor contained a complete apartment for a family household and a suite of rooms where the venerable Abbe de Sponde had his abode The garrets offered fine quarters to the rats and mice, whose nocturna performances were related by Mademoiselle Cormon to the Chevalie de Valois, with many expressions of surprise at the inutility of he efforts to get rid of them. The garden, about half an acre in size, i margined by the Brillante, so named from the particles of mica whic sparkle in its bed elsewhere than in the Val-Noble, where its shallo waters are stained by the dyehouses, and loaded with refuse fro the other industries of the town. The shore opposite to Mademoisell Cormon's garden is crowded with houses where a variety of trades ar carried on; happily for her, the occupants are quiet people,--a baker a cleaner, an upholsterer, and several bourgeois. The garden, full o common flowers, ends in a natural terrace, forming a quay, down whic are several steps leading to the river. Imagine on the balustrade o this terrace a number of tall vases of blue and white pottery, in whic are gilliflowers; and to right and left, along the neighboring walls hedges of linden closely trimmed in, and you will gain an idea o the landscape, full of tranquil chastity, modest cheerfulness, bu commonplace withal, which surrounded the venerable edifice of the Cormo family. What peace! what tranquillity! nothing pretentious, but nothin transitory; all seems eternal there
The ground-floor is devoted wholly to the reception-rooms. The old unchangeable provincial spirit pervades them. The great square salon ha four windows, modestly cased in woodwork painted gray. A single oblon mirror is placed above the fireplace; the top of its frame represente the Dawn led by the Hours, and painted in camaieu (two shades of on color). This style of painting infested the decorative art of the day especially above door-frames, where the artist displayed his eterna Seasons, and made you, in most houses in the centre of France, abho the odious Cupids, endlessly employed in skating, gleaning, twirling or garlanding one another with flowers. Each window was draped in gree damask curtains, looped up by heavy cords, which made them resemble vast dais. The furniture, covered with tapestry, the woodwork, painte and varnished, and remarkable for the twisted forms so much the fashio in the last century, bore scenes from the fables of La Fontaine on th chair-backs; some of this tapestry had been mended. The ceiling wa divided at the centre of the room by a huge beam, from which depended a old chandelier of rock-crystal swathed in green gauze. On the fireplac were two vases in Sevres blue, and two old girandoles attached to th frame of the mirror, and a clock, the subject of which, taken fro the last scene of the "Deserteur," proved the enormous popularity o Sedaine's work. This clock, of bronze-gilt, bore eleven personage upon it, each about four inches tall. At the back the Deserter was see issuing from prison between the soldiers; in the foreground the youn woman lay fainting, and pointing to his pardon. On the walls of thi salon were several of the more recent portraits of the family,--on or two by Rigaud, and three pastels by Latour. Four card tables, backgammon board, and a piquet table occupied the vast room, the onl one in the house, by the bye, which was ceiled
The dining-room, paved in black and white stone, not ceiled, and it beams painted, was furnished with one of those enormous sideboards wit marble tops, required by the war waged in the provinces against th human stomach. The walls, painted in fresco, represented a flower trellis. The seats were of varnished cane, and the doors of natura wood. All things about the place carried out the patriarchal air whic emanated from the inside as well as the outside of the house. The geniu of the provinces preserved everything; nothing was new or old, neithe young nor decrepit. A cold precision made itself felt throughout
Tourists in Normandy, Brittany, Maine, and Anjou must all have seen i the capitals of those provinces many houses which resemble more or les that of the Cormons; for it is, in its way, an archetype of the burghe houses in that region of France, and it deserves a place in this histor because it serves to explain manners and customs, and represents ideas Who does not already feel that life must have been calm and monotonousl regular in this old edifice? It contained a library; but that was place below the level of the river. The books were well bound and shelved and the dust, far from injuring them, only made them valuable. They wer preserved with the care given in these provinces deprived of vineyard to other native products, desirable for their antique perfume, an issued by the presses of Bourgogne, Touraine, Gascogne, and the South The cost of transportation was too great to allow any but the bes products to be imported
The basis of Mademoiselle Cormon's society consisted of about on hundred and fifty persons; some went at times to the country; other were occasionally ill; a few travelled about the department on business but certain of the faithful came every night (unless invited elsewhere) and so did certain others compelled by duties or by habit to liv permanently in the town. All the personages were of ripe age; fe among them had ever travelled; nearly all had spent their lives in th provinces, and some had taken part in the chouannerie. The latter wer beginning to speak fearlessly of that war, now that rewards were bein showered on the defenders of the good cause. Monsieur de Valois, one o the movers in the last uprising (during which the Marquis de Montauran betrayed by his mistress, perished in spite of the devotion o Marche-a-Terre, now tranquilly raising cattle for the market nea Mayenne),--Monsieur de Valois had, during the last six months, given th key to several choice stratagems practised upon an old republican name Hulot, the commander of a demi-brigade stationed at Alencon from 1798 t 1800, who had left many memories in the place. [See "The Chouans."
The women of this society took little pains with their dress, except o Wednesdays, when Mademoiselle Cormon gave a dinner, on which occasio the guests invited on the previous Wednesday paid their "visit o digestion." Wednesdays were gala days: the assembly was numerous; guest and visitors appeared in fiocchi; some women brought their sewing knitting, or worsted work; the young girls were not ashamed to mak patterns for the Alencon point lace, with the proceeds of which the paid for their personal expenses. Certain husbands brought their wive out of policy, for young men were few in that house; not a word could b whispered in any ear without attracting the attention of all; there wa therefore no danger, either for young girls or wives, of love-making
Every evening, at six o'clock, the long antechamber received it furniture. Each habitue brought his cane, his cloak, his lantern. Al these persons knew each other so well, and their habits and ways wer so familiarly patriarchal, that if by chance the old Abbe de Sponde wa lying down, or Mademoiselle Cormon was in her chamber, neither Josette the maid, nor Jacquelin, the man-servant, nor Mariette, the cook informed them. The first comer received the second; then, when th company were sufficiently numerous for whist, piquet, or boston they began the game without awaiting either the Abbe de Sponde o mademoiselle. If it was dark, Josette or Jacquelin would hasten to ligh the candles as soon as the first bell rang. Seeing the salon lighted up the abbe would slowly hurry to come down. Every evening the backgammo and the piquet tables, the three boston tables, and the whist table wer filled,--which gave occupation to twenty-five or thirty persons; bu as many as forty were usually present. Jacquelin would then light th candles in the other rooms
Between eight and nine o'clock the servants began to arrive in th antechamber to accompany their masters home; and, short of a revolution no one remained in the salon at ten o'clock. At that hour the guest were departing in groups along the street, discoursing on the game, o continuing conversations on the land they were covetous of buying, o the terms of some one's will, on quarrels among heirs, on the haught assumption of the aristocratic portion of the community. It was lik Paris when the audience of a theatre disperses
Certain persons who talk much of poesy and know nothing about it declaim against the habits of life in the provinces. But put you forehead in your left hand, rest one foot on the fender, and your elbo on your knee; then, if you compass the idea of this quiet and unifor scene, this house and its interior, this company and its interests heightened by the pettiness of its intellect like goldleaf beate between sheets of parchment, ask yourself, What is human life? Try t decide between him who scribbles jokes on Egyptian obelisks, and him wh has "bostoned" for twenty years with Du Bousquier, Monsieur de Valois Mademoiselle Cormon, the judge of the court, the king's attorney, th Abbe de Sponde, Madame Granson, and tutti quanti. If the daily an punctual return of the same steps to the same path is not happiness, i imitates happiness so well that men driven by the storms of an agitate life to reflect upon the blessings of tranquillity would say that her was happiness _enough_
To reckon the importance of Mademoiselle Cormon's salon at its tru value, it will suffice to say that the born statistician of th society, du Bousquier, had estimated that the persons who frequented i controlled one hundred and thirty-one votes in the electoral college and mustered among themselves eighteen hundred thousand francs a yea from landed estate in the neighborhood
The town of Alencon, however, was not entirely represented by thi salon. The higher aristocracy had a salon of their own; moreover, tha of the receiver-general was like an administration inn kept by th government, where society danced, plotted, fluttered, loved, and supped These two salons communicated by means of certain mixed individuals wit the house of Cormon, and vice-versa; but the Cormon establishment sa severely in judgment on the two other camps. The luxury of their dinner was criticised; the ices at their balls were pondered; the behavior o the women, the dresses, and "novelties" there produced were discusse and disapproved
Mademoiselle Cormon, a species of firm, as one might say, under whos name was comprised an imposing coterie, was naturally the aim and objec of two ambitious men as deep and wily as the Chevalier de Valois an du Bousquier. To the one as well as to the other, she meant election a deputy, resulting, for the noble, in the peerage, for the purveyor, i a receiver-generalship. A leading salon is a difficult thing to create whether in Paris or the provinces, and here was one already created. T marry Mademoiselle Cormon was to reign in Alencon. Athanase Granson, th only one of the three suitors for the hand of the old maid who no longe calculated profits, now loved her person as well as her fortune
To employ the jargon of the day, is there not a singular drama in th situation of these four personages? Surely there is something odd an fantastic in three rivalries silently encompassing a woman who neve guessed their existence, in spite of an eager and legitimate desir to be married. And yet, though all these circumstances make th spinsterhood of this old maid an extraordinary thing, it is no difficult to explain how and why, in spite of her fortune and he three lovers, she was still unmarried. In the first place, Mademoisell Cormon, following the custom and rule of her house, had always desire to marry a nobleman; but from 1788 to 1798 public circumstances wer very unfavorable to such pretensions. Though she wanted to be a woma of condition, as the saying is, she was horribly afraid of th Revolutionary tribunal. The two sentiments, equal in force, kept he stationary by a law as true in ethics as it is in statics. This stat of uncertain expectation is pleasing to unmarried women as long as the feel themselves young, and in a position to choose a husband. Franc knows that the political system of Napoleon resulted in making man widows. Under that regime heiresses were entirely out of proportio in numbers to the bachelors who wanted to marry. When the Consulat restored internal order, external difficulties made the marriage o Mademoiselle Cormon as difficult to arrange as it had been in the past If, on the one hand, Rose-Marie-Victoire refused to marry an old man, o the other, the fear of ridicule forbade her to marry a very young one
In the provinces, families marry their sons early to escape th conscription. In addition to all this, she was obstinately determine not to marry a soldier: she did not intend to take a man and then giv him up to the Emperor; she wanted him for herself alone. With thes views, she found it therefore impossible, from 1804 to 1815, to ente the lists with young girls who were rivalling each other for suitabl matches
Besides her predilection for the nobility, Mademoiselle Cormon ha another and very excusable mania: that of being loved for herself You could hardly believe the lengths to which this desire led her. Sh employed her mind on setting traps for her possible lovers, in order t test their real sentiments. Her nets were so well laid that the luckles suitors were all caught, and succumbed to the test she applied to the without their knowledge. Mademoiselle Cormon did not study them; sh watched them. A single word said heedlessly, a joke (that she ofte was unable to understand), sufficed to make her reject an aspirant a unworthy: this one had neither heart nor delicacy; that one told lies and was not religious; a third only wanted to coin money under the cloa of marriage; another was not of a nature to make a woman happy; her she suspected hereditary gout; there certain immoral antecedents alarme her. Like the Church, she required a noble priest at her altar; she eve wanted to be married for imaginary ugliness and pretended defects, jus as other women wish to be loved for the good qualities they have not and for imaginary beauties. Mademoiselle Cormon's ambition took it rise in the most delicate and sensitive feminine feeling; she longed t reward a lover by revealing to him a thousand virtues after marriage, a other women then betray the imperfections they have hitherto concealed But she was ill understood. The noble woman met with none but commo souls in whom the reckoning of actual interests was paramount, and wh knew nothing of the nobler calculations of sentiment
The farther she advanced towards that fatal epoch so adroitly called th "second youth," the more her distrust increased. She affected to presen herself in the most unfavorable light, and played her part so well tha the last wooers hesitated to link their fate to that of a person whos virtuous blind-man's-buff required an amount of penetration that men wh want the virtuous ready-made would not bestow upon it. The constant fea of being married for her money rendered her suspicious and uneasy beyon all reason. She turned to the rich men; but the rich are in searc of great marriages; she feared the poor men, in whom she denied th disinterestedness she sought so eagerly. After each disappointment i marriage, the poor lady, led to despise mankind, began to see the all in a false light. Her character acquired, necessarily, a secre misanthropy, which threw a tinge of bitterness into her conversation and some severity into her eyes. Celibacy gave to her manners and habit a certain increasing rigidity; for she endeavored to sanctify hersel in despair of fate. Noble vengeance! she was cutting for God the roug diamond rejected by man. Before long public opinion was against her; fo society accepts the verdict an independent woman renders on herself b not marrying, either through losing suitors or rejecting them. Everybod supposed that these rejections were founded on secret reasons, alway ill interpreted. One said she was deformed; another suggested som hidden fault; but the poor girl was really as pure as a saint, a healthy as an infant, and full of loving kindness; Nature had intende her for all the pleasures, all the joys, and all the fatigues o motherhood
Mademoiselle Cormon did not possess in her person an obliging auxiliar to her desires. She had no other beauty than that very improperly calle la beaute du diable, which consists of a buxom freshness of youth tha the devil, theologically speaking, could never have,--though perhap the expression may be explained by the constant desire that must surel possess him to cool and refresh himself. The feet of the heiress wer broad and flat. Her leg, which she often exposed to sight by her manne (be it said without malice) of lifting her gown when it rained, coul never have been taken for the leg of a woman. It was sinewy, with thick projecting calf like a sailor's. A stout waist, the plumpness of wet-nurse, strong dimpled arms, red hands, were all in keeping with th swelling outlines and the fat whiteness of Norman beauty. Projectin eyes, undecided in color, gave to her face, the rounded outline of whic had no dignity, an air of surprise and sheepish simplicity, which wa suitable perhaps for an old maid. If Rose had not been, as she was really innocent, she would have seemed so. An aquiline nose contraste curiously with the narrowness of her forehead; for it is rare that tha form of nose does not carry with it a fine brow. In spite of her thic red lips, a sign of great kindliness, the forehead revealed too great lack of ideas to allow of the heart being guided by intellect; she wa evidently benevolent without grace. How severely we reproach Virtue fo its defects, and how full of indulgence we all are for the pleasante qualities of Vice
Chestnut hair of extraordinary length gave to Rose Cormon's face beauty which results from vigor and abundance,--the physical qualitie most apparent in her person. In the days of her chief pretensions Rose affected to hold her head at the three-quarter angle, in order t exhibit a very pretty ear, which detached itself from the blue-veine whiteness of her throat and temples, set off, as it was, by her wealt of hair. Seen thus in a ball-dress, she might have seemed handsome. He protuberant outlines and her vigorous health did, in fact, draw from th officers of the Empire the approving exclamation,-
"What a fine slip of a girl!
But, as years rolled on, this plumpness, encouraged by a tranquil wholesome life, had insensibly so ill spread itself over the whol of Mademoiselle Cormon's body that her primitive proportions wer destroyed. At the present moment, no corset could restore a pair of hip to the poor lady, who seemed to have been cast in a single mould. Th youthful harmony of her bosom existed no longer; and its excessiv amplitude made the spectator fear that if she stooped its heavy masse might topple her over. But nature had provided against this by givin her a natural counterpoise, which rendered needless the deceitfu adjunct of a bustle; in Rose Cormon everything was genuine. Her chin as it doubled, reduced the length of her neck, and hindered the eas carriage of her head. Rose had no wrinkles, but she had folds of flesh and jesters declared that to save chafing she powdered her skin as the do an infant's
This ample person offered to a young man full of ardent desires lik Athanase an attraction to which he had succumbed. Young imaginations essentially eager and courageous, like to rove upon these fine livin sheets of flesh. Rose was like a plump partridge attracting the knif of a gourmet. Many an elegant deep in debt would very willingly hav resigned himself to make the happiness of Mademoiselle Cormon. But alas! the poor girl was now forty years old. At this period, afte vainly seeking to put into her life those interests which make th Woman, and finding herself forced to be still unmarried, she fortifie her virtue by stern religious practices. She had recourse to religion the great consoler of oppressed virginity. A confessor had, for the las three years, directed Mademoiselle Cormon rather stupidly in the pat of maceration; he advised the use of scourging, which, if modern medica science is to be believed, produces an effect quite the contrary t that expected by the worthy priest, whose hygienic knowledge was no extensive
These absurd practices were beginning to shed a monastic tint over th face of Rose Cormon, who now saw with something like despair her whit skin assuming the yellow tones which proclaim maturity. A slight dow on her upper lip, about the corners, began to spread and darken like trail of smoke; her temples grew shiny; decadence was beginning! I was authentic in Alencon that Mademoiselle Cormon suffered from rus of blood to the head. She confided her ills to the Chevalier de Valois enumerating her foot-baths, and consulting him as to refrigerants. O such occasions the shrewd old gentleman would pull out his snuff-box gaze at the Princess Goritza, and say, by way of conclusion:-
"The right composing draught, my dear lady, is a good and kind husband.
"But whom can one trust?" she replied
The chevalier would then brush away the snuff which had settled in th folds of his waistcoat or his paduasoy breeches. To the world at larg this gesture would have seemed very natural; but it always gave extrem uneasiness to the poor woman
The violence of this hope without an object was so great that Rose wa afraid to look a man in the face lest he should perceive in her eyes th feelings that filled her soul. By a wilfulness, which was perhap only the continuation of her earlier methods, though she felt hersel attracted toward the men who might still suit her, she was so afraid o being accused of folly that she treated them ungraciously. Most person in her society, being incapable of appreciating her motives, whic were always noble, explained her manner towards her co-celibates as th revenge of a refusal received or expected. When the year 1815 began Rose had reached that fatal age which she dared not avow. She wa forty-two years old. Her desire for marriage then acquired an intensit which bordered on monomania, for she saw plainly that all chance o progeny was about to escape her; and the thing which in her celestia ignorance she desired above all things was the possession of children Not a person in all Alencon ever attributed to this virtuous woma a single desire for amorous license. She loved, as it were, in bul without the slightest imagination of love. Rose was a Catholic Agnes incapable of inventing even one of the wiles of Moliere's Agnes
For some months past she had counted on chance. The disbandment of th Imperial troops and the reorganization of the Royal army caused a chang in the destination of many officers, who returned, some on half-pay others with or without a pension, to their native towns,--all having desire to counteract their luckless fate, and to end their life in a wa which might to Rose Cormon be a happy beginning of hers. It would surel be strange if, among those who returned to Alencon or its neighborhood no brave, honorable, and, above all, sound and healthy officer o suitable age could be found, whose character would be a passport amon Bonaparte opinions; or some ci-devant noble who, to regain his los position, would join the ranks of the royalists. This hope kep Mademoiselle Cormon in heart during the early months of that year. But alas! all the soldiers who thus returned were either too old or to young; too aggressively Bonapartist, or too dissipated; in short, thei several situations were out of keeping with the rank, fortune, an morals of Mademoiselle Cormon, who now grew daily more and mor desperate. The poor woman in vain prayed to God to send her a husban with whom she could be piously happy: it was doubtless written abov that she should die both virgin and martyr; no man suitable for husband presented himself. The conversations in her salon every evenin kept her informed of the arrival of all strangers in Alencon, and o the facts of their fortunes, rank, and habits. But Alencon is not town which attracts visitors; it is not on the road to any capital even sailors, travelling from Brest to Paris, never stop there. Th poor woman ended by admitting to herself that she was reduced to th aborigines. Her eye now began to assume a certain savage expression, t which the malicious chevalier responded by a shrewd look as he drew ou his snuff-box and gazed at the Princess Goritza. Monsieur de Valoi was well aware that in the feminine ethics of love fidelity to a firs attachment is considered a pledge for the future
But Mademoiselle Cormon--we must admit it--was wanting in intellect and did not understand the snuff-box performance. She redoubled he vigilance against "the evil spirit"; her rigid devotion and fixe principles kept her cruel sufferings hidden among the mysteries o private life. Every evening, after the company had left her, she though of her lost youth, her faded bloom, the hopes of thwarted nature; and all the while immolating her passions at the feet of the Cross (lik poems condemned to stay in a desk), she resolved firmly that if, b chance, any suitor presented himself, to subject him to no tests, but t accept him at once for whatever he might be. She even went so far as t think of marrying a sub-lieutenant, a man who smoked tobacco, whom sh proposed to render, by dint of care and kindness, one of the best men i the world, although he was hampered with debts
But it was only in the silence of night watches that these fantasti marriages, in which she played the sublime role of guardian angel, too place. The next day, though Josette found her mistress' bed in a tosse and tumbled condition, Mademoiselle Cormon had recovered her dignity and could only think of a man of forty, a land-owner, well preserved and a quasi-young man
The Abbe de Sponde was incapable of giving his niece the slightest ai in her matrimonial manoeuvres. The worthy soul, now seventy years o age, attributed the disasters of the French Revolution to the design o Providence, eager to punish a dissolute Church. He had therefore flun himself into the path, long since abandoned, which anchorites onc followed in order to reach heaven: he led an ascetic life withou proclaiming it, and without external credit. He hid from the world hi works of charity, his continual prayers, his penances; he thought tha all priests should have acted thus during the days of wrath and terror and he preached by example. While presenting to the world a calm an smiling face, he had ended by detaching himself utterly from earthl interests; his mind turned exclusively to sufferers, to the needs of th Church, and to his own salvation. He left the management of his propert to his niece, who gave him the income of it, and to whom he paid slender board in order to spend the surplus in secret alms and gifts t the Church
All the abbe's affections were concentrated on his niece, who regarde him as a father, but an abstracted father, unable to conceive th agitations of the flesh, and thanking God for maintaining his dea daughter in a state of celibacy; for he had, from his youth up, adopte the principles of Saint John Chrysostom, who wrote that "the virgi state is as far above the marriage state as the angel is abov humanity." Accustomed to reverence her uncle, Mademoiselle Cormon dare not initiate him into the desires which filled her soul for a chang of state. The worthy man, accustomed, on his side, to the ways o the house, would scarcely have liked the introduction of a husband Preoccupied by the sufferings he soothed, lost in the depths of prayer the Abbe de Sponde had periods of abstraction which the habitues of th house regarded as absent-mindedness. In any case, he talked little; bu his silence was affable and benevolent. He was a man of great heigh and spare, with grave and solemn manners, though his face expressed al gentle sentiments and an inward calm; while his mere presence carrie with it a sacred authority. He was very fond of the Voltairea chevalier. Those two majestic relics of the nobility and clergy, thoug of very different habits and morals, recognized each other by thei generous traits. Besides, the chevalier was as unctuous with the abbe a he was paternal with the grisettes
Some persons may fancy that Mademoiselle Cormon used every means t attain her end; and that among the legitimate lures of womanhood sh devoted herself to dress, wore low-necked gowns, and employed th negative coquetries of a magnificent display of arms. Not at all! Sh was as heroic and immovable in her high-necked chemisette as a sentry i his box. Her gowns, bonnets, and chiffons were all cut and made by th dressmaker and the milliner of Alencon, two hump-backed sisters who were not without some taste. In spite of the entreaties of thes artists, Mademoiselle Cormon refused to employ the airy deceits o elegance; she chose to be substantial in all things, flesh and feathers But perhaps the heavy fashion of her gowns was best suited to her cas of countenance. Let those laugh who will at this poor girl; you woul have thought her sublime, O generous souls! who care but little wha form true feeling takes, but admire it where it _is_
Here some light-minded person may exclaim against the truth of thi statement; they will say that there is not in all France a girl s silly as to be ignorant of the art of angling for men; that Mademoisell Cormon is one of those monstrous exceptions which commonsense shoul prevent a writer from using as a type; that the most virtuous and als the silliest girl who desires to catch her fish knows well how to bai the hook. But these criticisms fall before the fact that the nobl catholic, apostolic, and Roman religion is still erect in Brittany an in the ancient duchy of Alencon. Faith and piety admit of no subtleties Mademoiselle Cormon trod the path of salvation, preferring the sorrow of her virginity so cruelly prolonged to the evils of trickery an the sin of a snare. In a woman armed with a scourge virtue could neve compromise; consequently both love and self-interest were forced to see her, and seek her resolutely. And here let us have the courage to mak a cruel observation, in days when religion is nothing more than useful means to some, and a poesy to others. Devotion causes a mora ophthalmia. By some providential grace, it takes from souls on the roa to eternity the sight of many little earthly things. In a word, piou persons, devotes, are stupid on various points. This stupidity prove with what force they turn their minds to celestial matters; although th Voltairean Chevalier de Valois declared that it was difficult to decid whether stupid people became naturally pious, or whether piety had th effect of making intelligent young women stupid. But reflect upon thi carefully: the purest catholic virtue, with its loving acceptance of al cups, with its pious submission to the will of God, with its belief i the print of the divine finger on the clay of all earthly life, is th mysterious light which glides into the innermost folds of human history setting them in relief and magnifying them in the eyes of those wh still have Faith. Besides, if there be stupidity, why not concer ourselves with the sorrows of stupidity as well as with the sorrows o genius? The former is a social element infinitely more abundant than th latter
So, then, Mademoiselle Cormon was guilty in the eyes of the world of th divine ignorance of virgins. She was no observer, and her behavior wit her suitors proved it. At this very moment, a young girl of sixteen, wh had never opened a novel, would have read a hundred chapters of a lov story in the eyes of Athanase Granson, where Mademoiselle Cormon sa absolutely nothing. Shy herself, she never suspected shyness in others she did not recognize in the quavering tones of his speech the force o a sentiment he could not utter. Capable of inventing those refinement of sentimental grandeur which hindered her marriage in her early years she yet could not recognize them in Athanase. This moral phenomenon wil not seem surprising to persons who know that the qualities of the hear are as distinct from those of the mind as the faculties of genius ar from the nobility of soul. A perfect, all-rounded man is so rar that Socrates, one of the noblest pearls of humanity, declared (as phrenologist of that day) that he was born to be a scamp, and a ver bad one. A great general may save his country at Zurich, and tak commissions from purveyors. A great musician may conceive the sublimes music and commit a forgery. A woman of true feeling may be a fool. I short, a devote may have a sublime soul and yet be unable to recogniz the tones of a noble soul beside her. The caprices produced by physica infirmities are equally to be met with in the mental and moral regions
This good creature, who grieved at making her yearly preserves for n one but her uncle and herself, was becoming almost ridiculous. Those wh felt a sympathy for her on account of her good qualities, and other on account of her defects, now made fun of her abortive marriages More than one conversation was based on what would become of so fin a property, together with the old maid's savings and her uncle' inheritance. For some time past she had been suspected of being au fond in spite of appearances, an "original." In the provinces it was no permissible to be original: being original means having ideas that ar not understood by others; the provinces demand equality of mind as wel as equality of manners and customs
The marriage of Mademoiselle Cormon seemed, after 1804, a thing s problematical that the saying "married like Mademoiselle Cormon" becam proverbial in Alencon as applied to ridiculous failures. Surely th sarcastic mood must be an imperative need in France, that so excellen a woman should excite the laughter of Alencon. Not only did sh receive the whole society of the place at her house, not only was sh charitable, pious, incapable of saying an unkind thing, but she wa fully in accord with the spirit of the place and the habits and custom of the inhabitants, who liked her as the symbol of their lives; she wa absolutely inlaid into the ways of the provinces; she had neve quitted them; she imbibed all their prejudices; she espoused all thei interests; she adored them
In spite of her income of eighteen thousand francs from landed property a very considerable fortune in the provinces, she lived on a footin with families who were less rich. When she went to her country-place a Prebaudet, she drove there in an old wicker carriole, hung on two strap of white leather, drawn by a wheezy mare, and scarcely protected by tw leather curtains rusty with age. This carriole, known to all the town was cared for by Jacquelin as though it were the finest coupe in al Paris. Mademoiselle valued it; she had used it for twelve years,--a fac to which she called attention with the triumphant joy of happy avarice Most of the inhabitants of the town were grateful to Mademoiselle Cormo for not humiliating them by the luxury she could have displayed; we ma even believe that had she imported a caleche from Paris they would hav gossiped more about that than about her various matrimonial failures The most brilliant equipage would, after all, have only taken her, lik the old carriole, to Prebaudet. Now the provinces, which look solely t results, care little about the beauty or elegance of the means, provide they are efficient