The Golden Dog [209]
other.
Amelie's beau-ideal of manhood was embodied in Pierre Philibert, and the greatest king in Christendom would have wooed in vain at her feet, much less an empty pretender like the Chevalier de Pean.
"I would not have treated any gentleman so rudely," said Amelie in confidence to Heloise de Lotbiniere when they had retired to the privacy of their bedchamber. "No woman is justified in showing scorn of any man's love, if it be honest and true; but the Chevalier de Pean is false to the heart's core, and his presumption woke such an aversion in my heart, that I fear my eyes showed less than ordinary politeness to his unexpected advances."
"You were too gentle, not too harsh, Amelie," replied Heloise, with her arm round her friend. "Had I been the object of his hateful addresses, I should have repaid him in his own false coin: I would have led him on to the brink of the precipice of a confession and an offer, and then I would have dropped him as one drops a stone into the deep pool of the Chaudiere."
"You were always more bold than I, Heloise; I could not do that for the world," replied Amelie. "I would not willingly offend even the Chevalier de Pean. Moreover, I fear him, and I need not tell you why, darling. That man possesses a power over my dear brother that makes me tremble, and in my anxiety for Le Gardeur I may have lingered, as I did yesterday, too long in the parlor when in company with the Chevalier de Pean, who, mistaking my motive, may have supposed that I hated not his presence so much as I truly did!"
"Amelie, your fears are my own!" exclaimed Heloise, pressing Amelie to her side. "I must, I will tell you. O loved sister of mine,-- let me call you so!--to you alone I dare acknowledge my hopeless love for Le Gardeur, and my deep and abiding interest in his welfare."
"Nay, do not say hopeless, Heloise!" replied Amelie, kissing her fondly. "Le Gardeur is not insensible to your beauty and goodness. He is too like myself not to love you."
"Alas, Amelie! I know it is all in vain. I have neither beauty nor other attractions in his eyes. He left me yesterday to converse with the Chevalier de Pean on the subject of Angelique des Meloises, and I saw, by the agitation of his manner, the flush upon his cheek, and the eagerness of his questioning, that he cared more for Angelique, notwithstanding her reported engagement with the Intendant, than he did for a thousand Heloises de Lotbiniere!"
The poor girl, overpowered by the recollection, hid her face upon the shoulder of Amelie, and sobbed as if her very heart were breaking,--as in truth it was.
Amelie, so happy and secure in her own affection, comforted Heloise with her tears and caresses, but it was only by picturing in her imagination her own state, should she be so hapless as to lose the love of Pierre Philibert, that she could realize the depth of misery and abandonment which filled the bosom of her fair companion.
She was, moreover, struck to the heart by the words of Heloise regarding the eagerness of her brother to get word of Angelique. "The Chevalier de Pean might have brought a message, perhaps a love- token from Angelique to Le Gardeur to draw him back to the city," thought she. If so, she felt instinctively that all their efforts to redeem him would be in vain, and that neither sister's love nor Pierre's remonstrances would avail to prevent his return. He was the slave of the lamp and Angelique its possessor.
"Heaven forbid, Heloise!" she said faintly; "Le Gardeur is lost if he return to the city now! Twice lost--lost as a gentleman, lost as the lover of a woman who cares for him only as a pastime and as a foil to her ambitious designs upon the Intendant! Poor Le Gardeur! what happiness might not be his in the love of a woman noble-minded as himself! What happiness were he yours, O darling Heloise!" She kissed her pallid cheeks, wet with tears, which lay by hers on the same pillow, and both remained silently brooding over the thoughts which spring from love and sorrow.
"Happiness can never be mine, Amelie,"
Amelie's beau-ideal of manhood was embodied in Pierre Philibert, and the greatest king in Christendom would have wooed in vain at her feet, much less an empty pretender like the Chevalier de Pean.
"I would not have treated any gentleman so rudely," said Amelie in confidence to Heloise de Lotbiniere when they had retired to the privacy of their bedchamber. "No woman is justified in showing scorn of any man's love, if it be honest and true; but the Chevalier de Pean is false to the heart's core, and his presumption woke such an aversion in my heart, that I fear my eyes showed less than ordinary politeness to his unexpected advances."
"You were too gentle, not too harsh, Amelie," replied Heloise, with her arm round her friend. "Had I been the object of his hateful addresses, I should have repaid him in his own false coin: I would have led him on to the brink of the precipice of a confession and an offer, and then I would have dropped him as one drops a stone into the deep pool of the Chaudiere."
"You were always more bold than I, Heloise; I could not do that for the world," replied Amelie. "I would not willingly offend even the Chevalier de Pean. Moreover, I fear him, and I need not tell you why, darling. That man possesses a power over my dear brother that makes me tremble, and in my anxiety for Le Gardeur I may have lingered, as I did yesterday, too long in the parlor when in company with the Chevalier de Pean, who, mistaking my motive, may have supposed that I hated not his presence so much as I truly did!"
"Amelie, your fears are my own!" exclaimed Heloise, pressing Amelie to her side. "I must, I will tell you. O loved sister of mine,-- let me call you so!--to you alone I dare acknowledge my hopeless love for Le Gardeur, and my deep and abiding interest in his welfare."
"Nay, do not say hopeless, Heloise!" replied Amelie, kissing her fondly. "Le Gardeur is not insensible to your beauty and goodness. He is too like myself not to love you."
"Alas, Amelie! I know it is all in vain. I have neither beauty nor other attractions in his eyes. He left me yesterday to converse with the Chevalier de Pean on the subject of Angelique des Meloises, and I saw, by the agitation of his manner, the flush upon his cheek, and the eagerness of his questioning, that he cared more for Angelique, notwithstanding her reported engagement with the Intendant, than he did for a thousand Heloises de Lotbiniere!"
The poor girl, overpowered by the recollection, hid her face upon the shoulder of Amelie, and sobbed as if her very heart were breaking,--as in truth it was.
Amelie, so happy and secure in her own affection, comforted Heloise with her tears and caresses, but it was only by picturing in her imagination her own state, should she be so hapless as to lose the love of Pierre Philibert, that she could realize the depth of misery and abandonment which filled the bosom of her fair companion.
She was, moreover, struck to the heart by the words of Heloise regarding the eagerness of her brother to get word of Angelique. "The Chevalier de Pean might have brought a message, perhaps a love- token from Angelique to Le Gardeur to draw him back to the city," thought she. If so, she felt instinctively that all their efforts to redeem him would be in vain, and that neither sister's love nor Pierre's remonstrances would avail to prevent his return. He was the slave of the lamp and Angelique its possessor.
"Heaven forbid, Heloise!" she said faintly; "Le Gardeur is lost if he return to the city now! Twice lost--lost as a gentleman, lost as the lover of a woman who cares for him only as a pastime and as a foil to her ambitious designs upon the Intendant! Poor Le Gardeur! what happiness might not be his in the love of a woman noble-minded as himself! What happiness were he yours, O darling Heloise!" She kissed her pallid cheeks, wet with tears, which lay by hers on the same pillow, and both remained silently brooding over the thoughts which spring from love and sorrow.
"Happiness can never be mine, Amelie,"