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Updated: May 16, 2025
"Not myself, though, thank you," replied Micheline, with a sad smile, "I am still very weak, but I will look on." And on Cayrol's arm she entered the large drawing-room. Serge followed with Jeanne. The festivities were at their height. The orchestra was playing a waltz, and in a whirl of silk and gauze the young people seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.
All this time Serge remained in the little drawing-room enjoying the hope of returning peace. It was sweet to him, after the troubles he had gone through. He had not the slightest suspicion of the scene in the adjoining room between Jeanne and Micheline. The fond heroism of his wife and the self-denial of his mistress were unknown to him. Time was passing.
"Yes, for others," said Pierre, passionately; "for others whom you have basely sacrificed, and who deserve all your respect and love; for Madame Desvarennes, whose high intelligence you have not been able to understand; for Micheline, whose tender heart you have not been able to appreciate.
The group of young men dispersed. The two friends looked at each other. Thus, then, Serge Panine was judged by his companions in pleasure, by the frequenters of the clubs in which he had spent a part of his existence. The Prince being "in the market" was obliged to marry a rich woman. He could not marry Lady Harton, so he had sought Micheline. And the sweet child was the wife of such a man!
Our absence made her sad, and she could no longer refrain from seeing me, so she came. On her return to Paris she will feel very lonely, and as I am so often alone " "Micheline!" interrupted Serge, with astonishment. "It is not a reproach, dear," continued the young wife, sweetly. "You have your engagements.
There was nothing good enough for Micheline. Had the mother owned the world she would have placed it at the little one's feet. One tear from the child upset her. If on one of the most important subjects Madame Desvarennes had said "No," and Micheline came and said "Yes," the hitherto resolute will became subordinate to the caprice of a child. They knew it in the house and acted upon it.
"Oh, dear me! my lady, all in black?" said Micheline, pointing to the tight-fitting black satin worn by the English beauty. "Yes, my dear Princess; mourning," replied Lady Harton, with a vigorous shake of the hands. "Ball-room mourning one of my best partners; gentlemen, you know Harry Tornwall?" "Countess Alberti's cavalier?" added Serge. "Well?" "Well! he has just killed himself."
Leave them alone; it will all come right. But you must admit that the gayety of the one is at least as irritating as the languor of the other!" Cayrol, somewhat reassured by this explanation, and thinking, like her, that it was the uncertainties of marriage which were troubling Jeanne, no longer attached any importance to her sad appearance. Micheline and Serge isolated themselves completely.
For that sweet and delicate child could not live without material comforts and mental ease, and her husband was doomed to go on from bad to worse, and would drag her down with him! The mistress pictured her daughter, that child whom she had brought up with the tenderest care, dying on a pallet, and the husband, odious to the last, refusing her admission to the room where Micheline was in agony.
After the first emotions were over, she longed to know what had happened during her absence, and inquired of Pierre: "By whom were you received on arriving here?" "By Micheline." "That is what I feared! What did she tell you?" "Everything!" In three sentences these two strong beings had summed up all that had taken place.
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