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Updated: May 24, 2025
Jacqueline's conduct amazes me; it looks like ingratitude." "Oh! she is a hard-hearted little thing! I always thought so!" said Madame de Villegry, carelessly. Here the rising of the curtain stopped short these discussions, which displayed so much good-nature and perspicacity.
She hardly knew. But it would last as long as she might live. One loves but once. These personal emotions, mingling with the literary enchantments of the poets, caused Jacqueline's pen to fly over her paper without effort, and she produced a composition so far superior to anything she usually wrote that it left the lucubrations of her companions far behind.
Max's eyes sought heaven or, in lieu of heaven, M. Cartel's ceiling; Max's hands freed Jacqueline's and flew out in ecstatic gesture. "Ah, that is for the gods to say, chérie! And the gods know best." Rapture gilded the world; rapture trembled on the air like the vibrations of a chord struck from some celestial harp.
But I must first have a promise from you; you must promise me to keep my secret." "Madame madame!" Jacqueline stammered. "You will promise?" "Yes." "And how am I to trust you?" Jacqueline's blue eyes went round and round the room, in search of some overwhelming proof of her fidelity; then swiftly they returned to Max's. "Not even to Lucien, madame, shall it be revealed!"
Jacqueline's voice was like some precious metal, molten and warm. "Or one may slip into hell! Do you think I have not known what it is to kiss? It was from a kiss I fled to-night." Her tone was fervent as it was reckless, and Jacqueline stood aghast. The entire denial of love was comprehensible to her, if inexplicable; but her mind refused this problem of realization and rejection.
They fascinated Jacqueline's father by their graces and their glances, while at the same time they warbled into his daughter's ear, with a slightly foreign' accent: "That would be so becoming to Mademoiselle."
By his assumption of Jacqueline's dominions, he was now lord of Holland, Zeland, and Hainault, and titular master of Friesland. He acquired Luxemburg a few years later. Lord of so many opulent cities and fruitful provinces, he felt himself equal to the kings of Europe. Upon his marriage with Isabella of Portugal, he founded, at Bruges, the celebrated order of the Golden Fleece.
But as he was highly strung and sensitive, and everything that happened in the heart of the woman he loved affected him also, Jacqueline's secret uneasiness infected him. One fine afternoon they went for a walk together in the country. They had looked forward to the walk eagerly and happily. All the world was bright and gay about them.
I heard Jacqueline's despairing cries as she was torn from me, while my weighted arms, heavier than lead, drooped helplessly at my sides, and from afar Simon mocked me. Then ensued a world without Jacqueline, a dead eternity of ice and snow. I must have fallen sound asleep at last, for when I opened my eyes the sun was shining brightly low down over the Rivière d'Or.
It is something tender intense profound, too feminine. It may come to her some day, perhaps but hitherto Jacqueline's expression has been generally that of a merry, mischievous child." "Oh, papa!" cried the young girl, stung by the insult. "You may possibly be right," Marien hastened to reply, "it was probably the fatigue of posing that gave her that expression."
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