Chapter 10 A Girl of High Adventure by L. T. Meade
THOU ART FAITHFUL AND SO ARE MY BEES
"I am going to be your little pupil, grandpère," said Margot, raising her beautiful eyes to the old man's face.
"Eh, what," he exclaimed, "eh, what? I thought you were at the school of Madame la Princesse."
"I don't like that school, mon cher grandpère. I don't like the girls there. I want you to teach me, yes, you! You can, you know, you know an awful lot."
"I don't know anything, little fledgling," answered grandpère. "What I did learn, I have forgotten. I am an old man on the brink of eternity. It is not given to me to teach even one so douce as thou, mon ange."
"But can we not read poetry together?" said Margot. "I know you are terribly old, grandpère; you are much—much older than The Desmond. Oh, but The Desmond he is magnifique—so big—so tall—so broad, his beard long and white as the snow! And his hair white as the snow! But his eyes are somewhat like yours, grandpère, only they don't go in so deep in his head. Yes, thou art old, mon grandpère, but still thou canst teach thy little Margot. One hour a day; say it is done!"
"But what shall I teach, my pretty?"
"How to talk the beautiful French tongue like thyself. Surely that will not be difficile. It will be to thee nothing, thou learned man; très bien—ah, but I cannot say all the words I want! But thou canst do it, mon grandpère!"
"Only for one hour a day, my Margot. But listen! understand! believe! We must not stay any longer than one hour over the French, si belle, for it would fatigue the old man."
"After that I will teach thee the Irish language," said Margot, her eyes sparkling. "I will teach thee, and thou wilt laugh—oh, how thou wilt laugh!"
"Thou art a très bonne petite enfant," said the old man. "I like to have thee near me, close to my side. For one hour each day, from two to three, we will talk that language the most elegant in the wide world, and after that I will lie back on my pillows of down and thou shalt tell me things to make me laugh, and laugh again, ma petite."
It was in this way that Margot's new life began. It was a very busy one and on the whole happy. She was glad to leave the school of la Princesse, and she greatly liked selling chapeaux and robes for her belle grand'mère la Comtesse. She was particularly happy when members of the school of la Princesse de Fleury entered the établissement, looked longingly at the pretty, clever child, and she had the opportunity of giving them as she expressed it "the back." She had great pride, had this little Comtesse, and when she swept past Lady Dorothy Duncan and even the other English girls who had tried to befriend her, she enjoyed herself immensely. She had become in fact a sort of power in the établissement and never did the francs come in so quickly and the robes and the chapeaux and the fans and the gants fly so fast.
She had a knack of picking out elderly, rich-looking people and dressing them according to her own taste. Meanwhile she passed utterly by the inmates of the great school and the other aristocrats, of whom she took no notice whatsoever. The people whom little Margot attended to were bourgeoise but they were rich, and Margot was clever enough to charge them according to their means. In short, things were going so well, that Madame la belle grand'mère felt it only her duty to give the child the very best music lessons which Arles could produce.
The afternoons were sacred to mon grandpère, and in short the little incident in connection with the school was well-nigh forgotten. Oh, what a very happy girl was Margot St. Juste! But she little knew that a cloud was arising in the blue of her sky and that she was not to escape scot free.
Hébé Duncan was really engaged to a young nobleman of great distinction. The marriage was to take place within a very short time. She had an aunt who lived some distance from Arles who would supply her with that dot which the Marquis could not possibly raise, and this aunt came constantly to Arles to see about her niece's robes and chapeaux for le mariage. The fame, the taste of the small dark-eyed Comtesse had reached the ears of Madame Derode and she was determined that the little Comtesse and no one else should assist in the choosing of the marriage garments for young Lady Hébé Duncan. But it is one thing for man to propose and another thing for God to dispose. The little Comtesse was exceedingly busy that morning turning a fat, ill-made Frenchwoman of the farmer class into an elegant lady.
She was choosing the right robes, the right chapeaux, she was—with a skill all her own—softening the tints of Madame Vollot. Madame Vollot hardly knew herself in her chapeaux and her robes. She stood in the centre of the largest salon, the admired of all beholders. A group of young girls surrounded her while la petite Comtesse gave her orders in a firm and resolute voice.
"You must wear this green, so dark," she said. "Tiens, and here are the very chapeaux for you! Hesitate not, Madame Vollot! You will look—oh, of the most charming!"
A little way to the right stood Madame Derode, the Lady Hébé Duncan, and Dorothy, her sister. La petite Comtesse kept her back to the group. She was absorbed with Madame Vollot. Just then Madame Marcelle came up and whispered some words to the little Comtesse.
The little Comtesse shook her pretty head.
"Non, non," she said, "it cannot be. I have all my time occupied to the moment. They have offended me and I will not serve them now. See, behold, when I have done with this chère Madame, there are others who are waiting for me. I cannot give any advice at all to the Ladies Hébé and Dorothy. You must attend them yourself, Madame Marcelle."
Madame Marcelle did her best, but the deed was done. Dorothy and Hébé, accompanied by their aunt, left the établissement with their heads in the air and a very significant expression on their faces.
"Behold, I had my way," said little Margot with a smile, and she went on giving all her skill and knowledge to the wives of the different farmers, who were so rich and could pay so well. But when they got into the street, Hébé said a word to her aunt, Madame Derode.
"I have suffered an insult," said Hébé, "and I wish to repay it."
"An insult, my dear child!" said Madame. "What do you mean? Who would dare to insult a bride-elect? Ah, me, I know life and I know men, also. For thee is perfect happiness, my little Hébé."
"Nevertheless I have suffered an insult," said Hébé Duncan. "Did you not observe that ugly little girl, who gave herself such airs and who only attended to the farmer folk?"
"You cannot allude to la petite Comtesse?" said Madame Derode. "Why she is a most beautiful, very young girl!"
"Nevertheless she has insulted me," said Hébé. "We have plenty of time. We will not take over long on this business. Aunt Matilda, I want to drive to the Château St. Juste."
"Ah, but certainly," said Madame Derode. "Do you know the Comte, Hébé? He is a very proud old man; he makes but few acquaintances."
"I shall get to know him," said Hébé.
"And I," exclaimed Dorothy.
"Well, have it your own way, my sweet pets. But I hear that he is of the most delicate. We will not detain him long."
"Not long," said Hébé, blushing and laughing.
They arrived in a very few minutes at the château, which was in exquisite order. Everything new and fresh and, according to Madame Derode, perfectly lovely, for she was the sort of woman who liked whiteness and spotlessness and everything in perfect present-day taste. Her own château was neat, but not to compare with this. She gave a quick sigh under her breath, but her nieces were too much occupied with their own affairs to observe it.
Now it so happened that always in the morning le Comte St. Juste took what he called his airing. He went out leaning on the arm of his garçon, a young man dressed in the ancient livery of the St. Justes. He leant heavily on the garçon's arm and went invariably in one direction, and that was first to examine the thriving rows of beehives and second the peaches, which were ripening to a lovely golden red on the high brick wall. The Comte St. Juste used to count the peaches and rejoice in their fragrance. He was a happy old man—very happy since he had married his Ninon. It mattered little to him if she had once kept a shop. She kept one no longer. He could not have married her if that was the case. They lived oh, so happily on the rich dot which she had brought with her. She was one in ten thousand, his pretty Ninon, so young, so gay, and of the taste the most perfect.
It therefore so happened that when the three ladies drove up in their automobile to the Château St. Juste, they only found Madame la Comtesse standing on the front steps and giving directions to one of her numerous gardeners.
Madame Derode got out of her car and, introduced herself and her nieces.
"Ah, but I am in ecstasies to know you, Madame," said the Comtesse, "but if you do indeed seek my Alphonse, you cannot see him now. He is at this present moment resting on his couch of down and must not be disturbed."
"I know him by appearance," said Lady Dorothy, "and he is not on his couch of down. He is in the garden yonder; behold, he is talking to a garçon! I go to tell him, to tell him the truth. I will not stand the sins of your little granddaughter, Madame la Comtesse. She serves in your magasin, and her rudeness is unthinkable. I go to report to M. le Comte the wicked ways of that ugly child."
"But—but—I entreat you to stop!" cried the anguished voice of the little Comtesse. "He knows nothing—nothing at all—oh, it will kill him, and he with the pride of all the St. Justes in his veins. He knows not of the établissement. Le petit bébé and I, we keep it from him as a secret the most profound. Do not be so cruel as to injure him, chère Mademoiselle! You go to the school of my friend, Madame le Fleury. I recognize your bijou charming face."
"I will have my revenge," said Dorothy. "I mind not at all the age of that stupid old man. I see him and I will go."
"Dorothy, don't—Dorothy, I command thee not to go," said Madame Derode, but Dorothy cared very little indeed for any such command. She had light and agile feet and before the unhappy little Comtesse could prevent her, had rushed into the garden where the peaches and the bees were, dropped a low curtsey to M. le Comte and then said in a hurried tone,
"M'sieur speaks the tongue of England. I am an English girl. My name is Dorothy Duncan. I am at the school of la Princesse de Fleury. La petite Comtesse no longer goes to that school."
The old Comte managed to hold himself very erect. He fixed his eyes on the pale blue eyes of the English girl.
"Will you have a peach?" he said.
"No, I want not your peaches, M. le Comte. But, listen, behold, I want to tell the very truth. La petite was practically expelled from our school. We would have nothing to do with her. Think, M. le Comte, would it be likely? She attends in a shop."
"In a—in a——" began the old Comte.
"In the shop of the present Comtesse. It is now known as the établissement of Madame Marcelle and la petite Comtesse goes there every day of her life to sell ugly, common things to the wives of farmers. The shop belongs to La Comtesse and she dreads that you should know. Ah, but what a buzzing," continued Dorothy at the end of her sentence. There were innumerable voices; there was the angry tone of Hébé confirming her sister's words; there was Madame Derode in tears, for she could not hear to afflict the aged; and there was the Comtesse, white as a sheet, bending over "mon adorable Alphonse," who had sunk slowly but surely to the ground in a state of complete unconsciousness.
Dorothy stood at his back, a little frightened at her own words, and then she uttered a scream and a shriek, for the celebrated bees of M. le Comte St. Juste were surrounding her. They were getting into her hair, they were stinging her neck, her arms, even her lips and her eyes. She could not get away from them. The old man heard nothing—nothing at all, and Dorothy rushed out of the garden extremely sorry for her mean little revenge.
She was immediately followed by Lady Hébé and Madame Derode. No one had been stung but Dorothy and she could do nothing but cry out at her pain. Madame Derode called her a child of the most méchantes—of revenge the most puerile. She said the bees had but done their duty and when she dropped Dorothy at her school, she said that someone who could remove the stings had better be sent for, but that hélas, for the rest, she pitied not at all la pauvre chatte!
After some difficulty, the unconscious Comte was brought into the house. He was feeling particularly weak and the abrupt sayings of Dorothy caused his heart to stop and then to bound again and then there came a dizziness and a darkness over him and he knew no more.
But when he came to himself on his couch of down and the doctor was bending over him and Ninon was weeping tears on his face, he dimly recalled what had passed. The doctor administered a restorative and then went to another room with Madame la Comtesse.
"Someone has given le bon mari a profound shock," he remarked.
"It is true; it is quite true," said the Comtesse. "Oh, Dr. Jacqueline, I must confide in you. Listen and you will know all. Before I met my beloved husband, I was the well-known Ninon Lecoles and there was not an établissement like mine in the whole of Arles, but behold! I met the old man, so gracious, so lonely, so neglected, and I exercised upon him a little piece of what the English would call the deceit. I told him of my wealth and he offered me his hand but only on condition that I would give up the établissement which brought me in the francs in such multitudes. Monsieur, I pretended to agree, but oh, la! la! how could I give up my beautiful établissement; how could I keep this château as it is now and give mon Alphonse his comforts? So I changed the name of the établissement and called it no longer that of Ninon Lecoles, but the establishment unique of Madame Marcelle. But it was mine—mine all the time, kind M. le docteur. How could I keep this place going without it? And then when la petite Comtesse came, she proved to have the gift extraordinaire, and she worked in my établissement and does work there every day and she brings in the francs as they never came before. But we decided to keep the knowledge from the old man because he is weak and feeble. Ah, M. le docteur, what am I to do? If I give up my établissement, the death of mon Alphonse will assuredly lie at my door and yet, if I keep it—Oh, doctor, counsel a wretched woman!"
"You must keep the établissement, sans doute. Votre mari has had a shock but he will not die. That girl was mean who told him, but I have just been removing the stings of bees from her and she will be much swollen and distressed for some days. There is no doubt whatever that she has got her punishment. Ah, and here comes la petite Comtesse!"
The little Comtesse stared in some astonishment at the doctor's motor-car, at la belle grand'mère's tearful face and at the confusion which seemed to surround the hitherto peaceful place.
"Oh, grand'mère," she exclaimed. "I have sold three thousand francs worth of goods for thee this morning. Oui, très vrai, with my own skill I did it! I would not look at Lady Hébé nor at Lady Dorothy, the ugly stuck-up things that they are. But I attended to the wives of the farmers and they paid cash down, grand'mère, and they are going to Paris all three of them in their new chapeaux and robes and fans. Ah, but I made the stout one look slim and the slim one a little grosse, n'est ce pas? And the whole of them elegant. And Dorothy and Hébé were fluttering round waiting for my judgment, but grand'mère, I gave it not. I would not speak to them; they offended me. I gave them my back, grand'mère."
"But thou hast injured thy grandpère," said the poor little Comtesse. "That Dorothy is wicked, and has had her revenge. She found mon Alphonse in the garden with the peaches and the bees, and she told him all about thee, ma petite. He fell in a swoon, his horror was great, but the chères abeilles have stung her well."
"And thou art weeping when I have made three thousand francs for thee," said little Margot. "I will go straight to grandpère and set him right."
"Let the little one have her way, she has the genius," said the doctor.
"You keep away, grand'mère; let me go alone to mon grandpère," said Margot. And she ran in the direction of the salon with the couch of down.
Margot had a very gentle way of speaking, few things put her seriously out, and she was more pleased than otherwise at grandpère learning the truth. He was lying very still on his sofa; his face was white and a tear or two trickled down his withered cheeks.
"Thou art not like The Desmond, grandpère," said little Margot. "The Desmond would not mind anything so trifling as a shop."
"Ah, ma petite, ma petite," exclaimed the old Comte, and now he burst into floods of tears.
Margot knelt by him and wiped his tears away very gently.
"That flow of tears will give thee relief," she said. "Thou wilt be better, ah, better! Let me arrange pour vous, grandpère. I like putting the mighty from their seats. Oh, grandpère, I have such a beautiful story to tell thee!"
The old man ceased crying, and looked at the little Comtesse with wondering eyes.
"Perhaps it is a lie," he said.
"Of course," said Margot, "there is a shop—but it is not thy shop. It belongs to Madame Marcelle."
"And not to my Ninon—oh, thank the God Almighty!"
"I help Madame Marcelle a little while I am learning of the French tongue, si belle—that is all. Thou wilt not forbid it. Thy Ninon, ma belle grand'mère, is crying her eyes out at the thought of hurting thee, but it was done by those wicked girls. Behold I was in the établissement, and I have got—ah, the taste magnifique! and the farmers' wives—some very red, some very thin, came in to be suited with robes. Ah, but they were of the most superb that I did show them, and I suited the taste of each. I made the fat, red one to look thin and pale and elegant, ah oui, and the thin one I gave her a good figure and I chose chapeaux the most suitable. And I put into the pocket of Madame Marcelle three thousand francs this morning. For they are rich, these wives of farmers, and they pay as they go. But Dorothy, la petite chatte, and Hébé, they came in and they wanted me to leave my farmers' wives and attend to them. They meant, doubtless, grandpère, to run up a long bill and keep it going—going—going, so I said I would have nothing to do with them because I love them not and I do love the wives of the farmers. Then they were angry and they came here to see thee, mon grandpère, and behold, Dorothy, she was stung by thy bees. It served her right, didn't it, grandpère?"
"Was she stung?" said grandpère. "I offered her a peach, which she deserved not. I did not know that she was stung. Mon enfant, thou art faithful and so are mes chères abeilles."
"And thou wilt see thy Ninon who weeps outside?" said Margot.
"Of a verity I will see my Ninon. What care I how many établissements Madame Marcelle keeps?"