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Updated: May 4, 2025
"Maladroit! et tres maladroit, monsieur," says Stenio, curling his moustache; "c'est bien le mot, monsieur! "Also, I make my excuses to Madame la Duchesse, which I hope she will receive," said Lord Kew. The Duchesse shrugged her shoulders and sunk her head. "When one does not know how to dance, one ought not to dance," continued the Duchesse's knight.
It smiled at me in my little convent chamber, played among the flowers which I cherished, warbled with the birds that I loved. But it quitted me at the door of the world, Stenio. It folded its white wings and veiled its radiant face! In return for my young love, they gave me sixty years, the dregs of a selfish heart, egotism cowering over its fire, and cold for all its mantle of ermine!
David gradually learnt to follow, to understand, to range all that he heard in a mental setting of his own. The France of his imagination indeed was a strange land! Everybody in it was either girding at priests like Voltaire, or dying for love like George Sand's Stenio. But whether the picture was true to life or no, it had a very strongly marked effect on the person conceiving it.
There was not a romance of Balzac and George Sand which the indefatigable little creature had not devoured by the time she was sixteen: and, however little she sympathised with her relatives at home, she had friends, as she said, in the spirit-world, meaning the tender Indiana, the passionate and poetic Lelia, the amiable Trenmor, that high-souled convict, that angel of the galleys, the fiery Stenio, and the other numberless heroes of the French romances.
His mind was full of images the deep lily-sprinkled lake wherein Stenio, Lelia's poet lover, plunged and died; the grandiose landscape of Victor Hugo; Rene sitting on the cliff-side, and looking farewell to the white home of his childhood; of lines from 'Childe Harold' and from Shelley.
In place of the sweet flowers of my young years, they gave me these, Stenio!" and she pointed to her feathers and her artificial roses. "Oh, I should like to crush them under my feet!" and she put out the neatest little slipper. The Duchesse was great upon her wrongs, and paraded her blighted innocence to every one who would feel interested by that piteous spectacle.
When Lord Kew had left the dancing-room, Madame d'Ivry saw Stenio following him with fierce looks, and called back that bearded bard. "You were going to pursue M. de Kew," she said: "I knew you were. Sit down here, sir," and she patted him down on her seat with her fan. "Do you wish that I should call him back, madame?" said the poet, with the deepest tragic accents.
What shall I reply to them if they come and say to me; 'Yes, life is unbearable in a world like this. Let us die together. Show us the path of Bernica, or the lake of Sténio, or the glaciers of Jacques." Nevertheless the failure of the impassioned seekers of a new and better world proves nothing, George Sand maintains, for the world as it is.
"This is your Englishman your Kew, whom you vaunt everywhere," said Stenio to M. de Florac, who was standing by and witnessed the scene. "Is he simply bete, or is he poltron as well? I believe him to be both." "Silence, Victor!" cried Florac, seizing his arm, and drawing him away. "You know me, and that I am neither one or the other.
"Monsieur is very good to give me lessons in dancing," said Lord Kew. "Any lessons which you please, milor!" cries Stenio; "and everywhere where you will them." Lord Kew looked at the little man with surprise. He could not understand so much anger for so trifling an accident, which happens a dozen times in every crowded ball. He again bowed to the Duchesse, and walked away.
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