This etext was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net>
[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of thefile for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making anentire meal of them. D.W.]
By CHARLES DE BERNARD
Some men in society marry too soon, a great number too late, a small andfortunate proportion at an opportune time. Young men in the country, ofgood family, are usually established in marriage by their parents asearly as possible. When the family council finds an heiress who answersall the conditions of the programme laid out, they begin by giving thevictim his cue. Provided the young lady has not a positively crookednose, arms too red, and too uncouth a waist—sometimes evennotwithstanding these little misfortunes—the transaction is concludedwithout any difficulty.
Clemence and Christian should be placed in the first rank of privilegedcouples of this kind. The most fastidious old uncle or precise olddowager could not discover the slightest pretense for criticism. Age,social position, wealth, physical endowments, all seemed united by achance as rare as fortunate. So Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, who had veryhigh pretensions for her niece, made no objection upon receiving thefirst overtures. She had not, at this time, the antipathy for her futurenephew's family which developed later. The Bergenheims were in her eyesvery well-born gentleman.
A meeting took place at the Russian Embassy. Bergenheim came in uniform;it was etiquette to do so, as the minister of war was present; but at thesame time, of course, there was a little vanity on his part, for hisuniform showed off his tall, athletic figure to the best advantage.Christian was certainly a very handsome soldier; his moustache andeyebrows were of a lighter tint than his complexion, and gave him thatmartial air which pleases women. Clemence could find no reason for arefusal. The way in which she had been brought up by her aunt had notrendered her so happy but that she often desired to change her situation.Like the greater number of young girls, she consented to become a wife soas not to remain a maiden; she said yes, so as not to say no.
As to Christian, he was in love with his wife as nine out of ten cavalryofficers know how to love, and he seemed perfectly satisfied with thesentiment that he received in return for this sudden affection. A fewsuccesses with young belles, for whom an epaulette has an irresistibleattraction, had inspired Baron de Bergenheim with a confidence in himselfthe simplicity of which excused the conceit. He persuaded himself thathe pleased Clemence because she suited him exactly.
There are singers who pretend to read music at sight; give them a scoreby Gluck—"I beg your pardon," they will say, "my part is written here inthe key of 'C' and I sing only in the key of 'G'!" How many men do notknow even the key of 'G' in matters of love! Unfortunately for him,Bergenheim was one of that number. After three years of married life,he had not divined the first note in Clemence's character. He decidedin his own mind, at the end of a few months, that she was cold, if notheartless. This discovery, which ought to have wounded his vanity,inspired him, on the contrary, with a deeper respect for her; insensiblythis reserve reacted upon himself, for love is a fire whose heat dies outfor want of fuel, and its cooling off is more sudden when the flame ismore on the surface than in the depths.