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Updated: May 3, 2025
We have to make comparisons between La Tristesse d'Olympio, Souvenir, and Le Lac'. That will be something interesting." "The Tristesse d'Olympio?" repeated Giselle, in a tone of interrogation. "You know, of course, that it is Victor Hugo's," said Mademoiselle de Wermant, with a touch of pity. Giselle answered with sincerity and humility, "I only knew that Le Lac was by Lamartine."
There were others who suffered by the Wermant crash, but those were less interesting than the De Nailles. M. de Belvan found himself left by his father-in-law's failure with a wife on his hands who not only had not a sou, but who was the daughter of an 'agent de change' who had behaved dishonorably.
He said the truth, for he was disturbed by seeing M. de Cymier so slow in making his proposals, and he was also aware that young girls in our day are less sought for in marriage than they used to be. His friend Wermant, rich as he was, had had some trouble in capturing for Berthe a fellow of no account in the Faubourg St. Germain, and the prize was not much to be envied.
Her toilette, which was youthful, yet very carefully adapted to her person, showed that she was by no means as yet "laid on the shelf," as Raoul Wermant elegantly said of her. She stood up, leaning over a table covered with toys, which it was her duty to sell at the highest price possible, for the place of a meeting so full of emotions for Fred was a charity bazaar.
Fred's verses were not good, but they were full of dejection. The poor fellow compared Raoul Wermant to Faust, and himself to Siebel. He spoke of The youth whose eyes were brimming with salt tears, Whose heart was troubled by a thousand fears, Poor slighted lover!-since in his heavy heart All his illusions perish and depart. Again, he wrote of Siebel: O Siebel! thine is but the common fate!
Even young men of fashion she had seen some of them on Tuesdays Raoul Wermant, the one who so distinguished himself as a leader in the 'german', or Yvonne's brother, the officer of chasseurs, who had gained the prize for horsemanship, and others besides these seemed to her very commonplace by comparison. No! he whom she loved was a man in the prime of life, well known to fame.
At night, when she was dancing with Wermant, or Cymier, or even Talbrun, or on horseback, an exercise which all the Blues were wild about, she was an audacious flirt, a girl up to anything; and in the morning, at low tide, she might be seen, with her legs and feet bare, among the children, of whom there were many on the sands, digging ditches, making ramparts, constructing towers and fortifications in wet sand, herself as much amused as if she had been one of the babies themselves.
There were plenty of examples among those she knew that she could follow. Berthe, Helene, and Claire Wermant were excellent leaders in that sort of thing.
"You are going too fast, my dear Clotilde. I don't doubt that Wermant gave the best possible account of our situation; but when it comes to saying what I could give her as a dot, I am very much afraid. We should have, in that case, to fall back on Fred, for I have not told you everything.
Fred's verses were not good, but they were full of dejection. The poor fellow compared Raoul Wermant to Faust, and himself to Siebel. He spoke of The youth whose eyes were brimming with salt tears, Whose heart was troubled by a thousand fears, Poor slighted lover!-since in his heavy heart All his illusions perish and depart. Again, he wrote of Siebel: O Siebel! thine is but the common fate!
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