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He remained in perfect tranquillity. He had increased his expenditure, and his household was on a royal footing. Micheline's sweetness emboldened him; he no longer took the trouble of dissimulating, and treated his young wife with perfect indifference. Jeanne and Serge met every day at the little house in the Avenue Maillot.
What contributed especially to make her feel secure was Jeanne's absence. If the young woman had been near Serge, Madame Desvarennes might have trembled. But Micheline's beautiful rival was far away, and Serge seemed very much in love with his wife. Everything was for the best. The formidable projects which Madame Desvarennes had formed in the heat of her passion had not been earned out.
No more flirting, eh? She loves you; she would be jealous, and you would get into hot water with me! Let Micheline's life be happy, without a cloud-blue, always blue sky!" "That will be easy," said Serge. "To be unhappy I should have to seek misfortune; and I certainly shall not do that." He began to laugh.
"Well," said Micheline, with a faint smile, "as you are so kindly disposed, promise that we shall leave for Paris this week. The season is far advancing. All your friends will have returned. It will not be such a great sacrifice which I ask from you." "Willingly," said Serge, surprised at Micheline's sudden resolution.
Madame Desvarennes, unable to lie in bed, arose, and now and again, to pass the time, stole on tiptoe to her daughter's room. Micheline, thoroughly exhausted with fatigue and emotion, had fallen asleep on her pillow, which was wet with tears. Bending over her, by the light of the lamp, the mistress gazed at Micheline's pale face, and a sigh rose to her lips.
A great sadness stole over the young man's spirit; he was disgusted with life and hated humanity. What was to become of him now? His life was shattered; a heart like his could not love twice, and Micheline's image was too deeply engraven on it for it ever to be effaced. Of what use was all the trouble he had taken to raise himself above others?
With a single glance the Prince took in the attitude of one and all, and after a polite exchange of words and a careless kiss on Micheline's brow, he seated himself at table. The repast was silent. Each one seemed preoccupied. Serge anxiously asked himself whether Pierre had spoken. Marechal, deeply interested in his plate, answered briefly, when addressed by Madame Desvarennes.
To have so surely built up the edifice of her happiness, to have embellished it every hour, and then to see an intruder audaciously taking possession of it, and making his despotic and hateful authority prevail! And what could she do against this new master? Nothing. He was marvellously protected by Micheline's mad love for him. To strike Serge would be to wound Micheline, surely and mortally.
You say you came to warn him. What must be done?" "Without a moment's delay he must go away!" A strange suspicion crossed Micheline's mind. She approached Jeanne, and looking earnestly at her, said: "He must go away without delay, eh? And it is you, braving everything, without a thought of the trouble you leave behind you, who come to warn him? Ah! you mean to go with him?"
Her bright wit no longer enlivened Micheline's indolent calmness; her brilliant eyes were surrounded by blue rings, which denoted nights passed without sleep. The change coincided strangely with Prince Panine's departure for England, and the sending of the letter which recalled Pierre to Paris.
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