"A TRIUMPH OF LOVE"

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 33, 8 February 1929, Page 16

"A TRIUMPH OF LOVE"

By PIERRE B*LLOTEY

CHAPTPiR XV:—(Continued.) "f am not at all surprised." said Jacques. "Considerations of policy, to use M. Grcmont's language, have not much in common with dreams." He did not dare to add that Madeleine, on her aide, appeared to him less charming than she had ever before, but sit* quickly divined his thought, and said sharply: "You needn't be afraid of upsetting me. sir. I trust with nil my heart that you will not love me."' "Well, mademoiselle, to please you. I will assure you that void- hor.es artful filled." "Thank you,'" said Mydehiue emphatically, ""•'and alme we don't love each other, perhaps we can come to an understanding." They quickly did. and H was to the effect that they would not see each other any more and that Jacques would declare to his father and .Madeleine to Gremont that they had no inclination whatever for this marriage which had been decided without tin-m. but. could hardly be carried out i.. that manner. "This very i>v.-iiiiig." -aid Jacques, "I am going down to St. s to get to the bottom of thi> matter and put an end to it."' "Yes," murmured Madt-ieiue. "you are quite right. That is the Minple.-'t way." And under the trees of the Luxembourg, the two young people .-.aid goodbye to each other, taking great care to make it perfectly clear that they did not feel the. fain-test regie!. When she awoke next morning. Madeleine felt once more that impression of emptiness, of wearine*.*. from which she had suffered before, ami henceforth it seemed intolerable. She could not prevent ihoraelf from re jailing all the events which, crowded hi;.> a fev,- hours on the previous do\, had e.v.-ited her in such various way:-. Joyous at first, then tender, then ninou*, finally resolved to resistance and to struggle.

She heard nothing from (iremont that day. Luce, whom she questioned, swore that she neither knew nor could guess the grounds of policy to which the young girl was expected to give w.«y. She bad, on learning that Madeb-inc and Jacques were agreed not to iv engaged to each other, heartily approved their very wise deci.-ion, declaring that it was not in anybody's power in tin••= ;• days to force two young people iiKo marrisge against their will. Luce, easily reassured, had her head full of other thoughts. With an unquiet mind and a feverish body, she got ready to show henself with honour, if no;., with brilliance, at the fete to be giveu that evening by uie Count Daniel Sarasch. Twenty times before getting ready to accompany her two friend- Madam Forest tried on her silver lame dress and continually she studied In front of the looking glass down to the last detail, her bearing, her attitude and her smiles. Preoccupied as Madeleine was *he found some distraction and even amusement |in studying her governess. It would be hard indeed to imagine a more comic spectacle than that whicn tWis middlc- ' aged person presented in her ball dress and slippers, grimacing in front of all the mirrors in the house. Finally arrived the glorious and longed-for h.iur in which Madame Forest was to launch herself towards society splendours. Luce did not come back until pretty late in the morning, as Madeleine was getting up, and the young girl was at first shocked to see the haggard face and weary eyes of her protectress with her hair all uncurled and her powder and paint streaked with perspiration. She was indeed a pitiable figure, but she seemed to be very happy.

"My dear," she sighed, "wliat a wonderful fete. I danced all n'ght and I did splendidly." 'She aeked Madeleine to follow her into her room where, too tired to undress, she collapsed into a chair and feebly called Kmilienne to bring her a jug of water and a glass. After refreshing hereelf, she commenced

to explain to Madeleine the unforgettable brilliance of Count Daniel Sarosch's reception. Her account exceeded by itf length and its emphasis that which M. Thiers devotee to Bonaparte's crossing the Alps as first Consul. From such a torrent of phraees we must select some:

"Fancy, Mado. A great big artist'rs studio with vast windows, no furniture except low yellow divans here and there against the mauve-coloured walls. It was all lighted up with a green light and you couldn't tell at first where it came from, because the lamps were above the ceiling. There was a lot of people there when I arrived with Nicolette and Pauline, btut I recognised Daniel at first glance. How beautiful he is, dear, and what elegance. He is fair a«3 an Englishman and yet he has the brilliant eyes, the fine manners and the subtle expression of an Oriental. You could tell he was a prince at once and, do you know that his family descends from Alexis Murzuphle, who was Emperor of Constantinople? Yes, Murzuphle, Mado. What are you laughing at? I remember quite well. When lf» saw m-e come in, Daniel came over and murmured: "You are more than dazzling, Madame." "That was quick," pronounced Madeleine as seriously as such a. conversation permitted. "What a conquest!" "And, is there any reason to be surprised, my dear? Mon Dieu! lam not exactly a fright and I may even be quite pleading. Daniel danced with me nearly all the time. You can imagine how many people I made jealous and how many faces I saw disguising their envy under a. look of irony. .It is just the same- in society as elsewhere, Mado. You will find women who will never forgive- other women their .successes. Among those who were there, leaviii"out Pauline and Nicolette, I *aw a good many who seemed pretty and the,'j nearly all h;id very attractive dresses. But Daniel bad no eyes for anyone but me.

"He pointed out to me among the guests, artists, writers, and also a young diplomat, n very witty voung man, Mado. We talked politics' both of us. We talked, too, between the dances, while we drank cocktails and foreign drinks, rather strong, but tasting wonderful. . . And now, Mado, guess how we finished. No, you never will. Altogether at seven o'clock in the morning we finished up at a coffee stall on the Boulevard Montparnasse. Wasn't that a charming idea? I was as pleased as a kid."

exactly," thought Madeleine. Luce did not add that it was at the coffee stall that the tender, the irresistible Hospodar had permitted himself to kis« her. while *he had not protested otherwise than hj wieaoe, f« f^g

of attracting attention. Nor had she had the strength to refuse to see him again that afternoon in a picture gallery where the principal works of Krogacnioski were on view. That is why Luce was up again at three ox-lock and went out without lunch, for which she had neither time nor appetite. Left alone and not knowing how she was to occupy herself, Madeleine, who had grown bold, decided : "Good. I'll go lor a walk, too." Just as she. was ready, however, th'-re was a loud ring at the bell, and Emiliene, laughing almost to tears, came in to say that a M. Biseau wished to speak to mademoiselle. Madeleine, stupefied, put her hand to her head and remained undecided. "Show him in the drawing room,'" she said at length, and she herself went there first.

CHAPTER XVI. Leopold Biseau appeared on the threshold and remained motionless far some seconds, silently contemplating Madeleine and especially the astonishing room in which he found himself. "What a magnificent place!" he cried at length. "One doesn't see things like this in our little town." "Good day, uncle," said Madeleine, stepping forward. "Good day, my child," he replied severely, "but you must not be surprised if I do not embrace you. I. am not at all pleased with your conduct." Leopold sat himself down on the black and gold divan and Madeleine looked at hiin curiously. He seemed even more grotesque than he used to do, for she had ceased to fear him. With his oblong head, his lemon face, protruding lip and insignifiicant nose from which his spectacles appeared always in danger of falling off. he was no longer awe-inspiring for Madeleine and hence appeared much more ridiculous.

"What do T hear?" he said, folding his arms. "Are you always going to be a rebel ? I don't wish to remind you, Madeleine, of all the worries, the insults even, that you have heaped on me while I was looking after you when you were always trying to get away frcm my authority."

"Yes," said Madeleine, placidly, "I can assure you that you were not always very amusing, uncle." "Was T paid to amuse, you. little foolV exclaimed Leopold, red with anger. As may be imagined, when M. Biseau reddened, as he had a yellow complexion, he became neither rose nor purple. His colour no longer suggested a lemon, but a very ripe orange. "We are no longer at St. S ," said Madeleine, "and if you are going to talk foolishness, I shall ask you to retire."

"Begin to show some respect for me," he said more calmly, "and I will spare you my reproaches. At any rate, you must listen to me. I have come on behalf of M. Eugene Garain and with approval of M. Gremont. I am prepared to excuse you the ingratitude you have always shown to me, but I can neither excuse nor understand your present rebellion against your benefactor." "There is no necessity." murmured Madeleine "that you should understand or excuse me." She was. none the less troubled and piqued by curiosity. The young girl realised now that Leopold was the ambassador of whom Gremont had been thinking when he declared:

"It will not be for me to explain to you the reasons of policy which have determined our decision."

"First of all," continued Biseau, "lot me express my surprise that you shouid refuse in marriage M. Jacques Durochat, who, as I know too well, you allowed to court you shamelessly when ho was only a nameless passer-by. Do you know that my neighbours in the Rue Basse were annoyed at seeing you from a window of my respectable house, smiling and signalling, perhaps, to this young man? As soon as this blameworthy inclination becomes legitimate you repudiate it. Why 1 " "Because I wish to choose my husband independently."

"Independence in a young girl," replied Biseau, "is the beginning of corruption." Madeleine shrugged her shoulders. "You don't know anything about it." she said. Leopold smiled, placed his hands in the lapels of his coat and declared fatuously: "You must not let the dignity of my ripe age mislead you, Madeleine. I knew love in my youth, and the heart of a woman has little mystery for me." There was no doubt" that idyllic memories were blossoming in Bisean's mind, for he continued in a soft and almost affectionate tone: "Let us come to the facts my child. It is a terrible secret which weighs upon up. Its disclosure, which becomes more threatening every hour, would have the most shocking consequences. It is a matter of saving while there is still time two families equally honourable, in spite of the difference in their fortunes, from the tongue of scandal. It has become necessary, Madeleine, that I should reveal to you the secret." As he pronounced these last words, Leopold Biseati turned down his eves and became more and more embarrassed. "How can I tell you so painful a truth without wounding you too much?" he said. "Be strong, Madeleine. Prepare to look realities in the face, and. ahove all. I implore you, don't cry." And M. Bteeau rose, walked across the room and back, stopped suddenly in front of the* alarmed young girl.' and then declared emphatically and sorrowfully:

" Listen to me. Madeleine. I. Leopold Biseau, am only your uncle in spirit." " Say rather that you are nothing at all to me," replied Madeleine, gaily.

"You seem so little moved." he* said, "that I ask myself whether you have understood me." "I have not waited for your explanation to understand." replied Madeline. " Let me be definite. You have no right to the name of my brother." "Is that my fault? I don't want to be concerned in the matter. One should never judge one's parents, should one?" " No. but others will. Others who know already, unfortunately, that M. Eugene Garain sent for you and adopted you. Certain people, too well informed—and we have no idea how— have already dared to insinuate, that you are the unacknowledged daughter of Andre Garain." (/To lie continued daily.)