Man and Maid

by Elinor Glyn

  VII

  RESERVOIRES, VERSAILLES. September 10th.

  How I love Versailles--the jolliest old hole on earth--(I wonder why oneuses slang like this, I had written those words as an exact reflectionof my thoughts--and nothing could be more inexact as a description ofVersailles! It is as far from being "jolly" as a place can be--nor is ita "hole!") It is the greatest monument which the vanity of one man evererected, and like all other superlatives it holds and interests. If the_Grand Monarque_ squandered millions to build it, France has reapedbillions from the pockets of strangers who have come to look at it. Andso everything that is well done brings its good. Each statue is apersonal friend of mine--and since I was a boy I have been in love withthe delicious nymph with the shell at the bottom of the horse-shoedescent before you come to the _tapis vert_ on the right hand side. Shehas two dimples in her back--I like to touch them--.

  Why did I not come here sooner? I am at peace with the world--Burtonwheels me up onto the terrace every evening to watch the sunset from thetop of the great steps. All the masterpieces are covered with penthouses of concrete faced with straw, but the lesser gods and goddessesmust take their chance.

  And sitting here with peaceful families near me--oldgentlemen--soldiers on leave--a pretty war widow with a great whitedog--children with spades--all watching the glorious sky, seated ingroups on the little iron park chairs, a sense of stupefaction comesover me--for a hundred or two kilometres away men are killing oneanother--women are searching for some trace of their homes--the groundis teeming with corpses--the air is foetid with the smell of death!And yet we enjoy the opal sunset at Versailles and smile at the quaintappearance of the camouflaged bronzes!

  Thus custom deadens all painful recollections and so are we able tolive.

  I wonder what Louis XIV would say if he could return and be among us?He, with all his faults being a well bred person, would probably adapthimself to circumstances, as the Duchesse does.

  Suzette suggested that she should come and stay the week end outhere--She wants change of air she says. I have consented.--Miss Sharpdoes not bring her eternal block and pencil until Tuesday--when Suzettewill have left.

  Now that I am peaceful and have forgotten my perturbations, Suzette willjolly me up--I have used the right term there!--Suzette does jollyone--! I feel I could write out here, but not about William and Maryfurniture--! I could write a cynical story of the Duc de Richelieu'sloves.--Armande, the present duc, tells me that he has a dispatch boxfilled with the love letters his ancestor received--their preservationowed to a faithful valet who kept them all separated in bundles tiedwith different ribbons--and every lock of hair and souvenir attached toeach.--There is an idea!--I wonder if Burton has ever thought of keepingmine? He would not have had a heavy job in these last years--!

  I read all the mornings, seated in the sun--I read Plato--I want tofurbish up my Greek--For no reason on earth except that it is difficult,and perhaps if I start doing difficult things I may get more will.

  * * * * *

  Suzette arrived in an entirely new set of garments--the "_geste_" hadaltered, she said, one had to have a different look, and she was surethe autumn fashions would be even more pronounced.

  "As you can readily understand, my friend, one cannot be _demode, dansle metier_,--especially in war time!--"

  Naturally I agreed with her--.

  "The only unfortunate part is that it obliged me to break into the sumfor Georgine's education."

  "That is at least reparable"--I answered, and reached for mycheque-book--Suzette is such a good little sort--and clothes give herpleasure--and fancy being able to give _real pleasure_ for a fewthousand francs--pleasure, not comfort, or charity, or any respectablething, but just _pleasure_! The only worry about this cheque was thatSuzette was a little too affectionate after it!--I would nearly alwaysrather only talk to her--now.

  She accompanied my bath chair on to the terrace. Her ridiculous littleoutline and high heels contradicting all ideas of balance, and yetpresenting an indescribable elegance. She prattled gaily--then when noone was looking she slipped her hand into mine.

  "_Mon cher! Mon petit chou!_" she said.

  We had the gayest dinner in my sitting-room--.

  "The war was certainly nearing its close--Toinette, the friend of one ofthe Generals, assured her--people were thoroughly bored, and it was anexcellent thing to finish it--."

  "But even when peace comes, never again the restaurants open all nightto dance, Nicholas!--there is a sadness, my friend!"

  That was one of the really bad aspects of wars--the way they upsetpeople's habits--, she told me. Even "_dans le metier_" things became ofan uncertainty! '--One was never sure if the _amant_ would not bekilled--and it might be difficult to replace him advantageously!'

  "It is perhaps fortunate for you that I am wounded and an institution,Suzette!"

  "Thou--Nicholas!--Just as if I did not understand--I represent nothingbut an agreeable passing of some moments to thee--Thou art not an_Amant_!--Not even a little pretense of loving me thou showest!"--

  "But you said you never allowed yourself to care--perhaps I have thesame idea--"

  She shook with laughter.

  "An artist at love thou, Nicholas--but no lover!"

  "It is a nice distinction--would you like me better if I were a lover?"

  "We have before spoken of this, _Mon ami_--If you were a lover--that is,if you loved--you would be dangerous even with your one leg and your oneeye--a woman could be foolish for you. There is that air of _Grandseigneur_--that air of--mocking--of--_Mon Dieu!_ Something which I can'tfind my word for--Thou art _rudement chic cheri_!"

  I wished then that I had made the cheque larger--because there wassomething in her merry black eyes which told me she meant what shesaid--at the moment. I must be grateful to my money though after all--Icould not be "_rudement chic_" or a "_Grand seigneur_" without it--Thuswe get back to material things again!

  ----I wonder if material things could affect Miss Sharp?--One side ofher certainly--or she could not have played that dance music----Whatcan she think about all day?--certainly not my affairs, attending tothem must be purely mechanical--. I know she is not stupid. She playsbeautifully--she thinks--she has an air, and knowledge of the world. IfI were not so afraid of losing her I would act toward her quitedifferently--I would chance annoying her by making her talk--but thatfear holds me back.

  George Harcourt says that between men and women, no matter what therelation may be, one or the other holds the reins and is the realarbiter of things, and that if you find yourself not in the happyposition of master, there are many occasions when a man must lookridiculous.--I feel ridiculous when I think about Miss Sharp. I am"demand" and she is "supply"--I am wanting every moment of her time, andto know all her thoughts--and she is entirely uninterested in me, andgrants nothing.

  * * * * *

  Suzette left last evening in the best of moods--I made the chequelarger--and now I am awaiting Miss Sharp in my sitting-room--I love thishotel--it has an air of indifference about it which is soothing, and thefood is excellent.

  * * * * *

  Miss Sharp arrived about eleven to-day. Her cheeks were quite pink whenshe came in, and I could see she was warm with walking.--I wish I hadremembered to send to the station to meet her.

  "Do you think we shall be able to work here?" I asked her--"we have onlythe _resume_ chapter to do, and then the book will be finished."

  "Why not here as well as any other place?"

  "Does not environment matter to you?"

  "I suppose it would if I were creating it, it does not matter now."

  "Do you ever write--I mean write on your own?"

  "Sometimes."

  "What sort of things?"

  She hesitated for a moment and then said as though she regretted havingto speak the truth.--<
br />
  "I write a journal."

  I could not prevent myself from replying too eagerly--.

  "Oh! I should like to see it!--er--I write one too!"--

  She was silent. I felt nervous again--.

  "Do you put down your impressions of people--and things?"

  "I suppose so--."

  "Why does one write a journal?--" I wanted to hear what she wouldanswer.

  "One writes journals if one is lonely."

  "Yes, that is true. Then you are lonely?"

  Again she conveyed to me the impression that I had shown bad taste inasking a personal question--and I felt this to be unjust, because injustice, she would have been forced to admit that her words were achallenge.

  "You explain to me why one writes journals, and then when I presume uponthe inference you snub me--You are not fair, Miss Sharp--"

  "It would be better to stick to business," was all she answered--"willyou dictate, please?"

  I was utterly exasperated--.

  "No, I won't!--If you only admit by inference that you are lonely, I sayit right out--I am abominably lonely this morning and I want to talk toyou.--Did I see you at the Duchesse de Courville-Hautevine's onWednesday last?"

  "Possibly."

  I literally had not the pluck to ask her what she was doing there.However, she went on--.

  "There are still many wounded who require bandages--."

  That was it! of course--she was bringing bandages!

  "She is a splendid woman, the Duchesse, she was a friend of mymother's--" I said.

  Miss Sharp looked down suddenly--she had her head turned towards thewindow.

  "There are many splendid women in France--but you don't see them--thepoor are too wonderful, they lose their nearest and dearest and nevercomplain, they only say it is '_la Guerre_!'."

  "Have you any near relations fighting?"--

  "Yes"--

  It was too stupid having to drag information out of her like this--Igave it up--and then I was haunted by the desire to know what relationsthey were?--If she has a father he must be at least fifty--and he mustbe in the English Army--why then does she seem so poor?--It can't be abrother--her's is only thirteen--would a cousin count as a nearrelation?--or--can she have a _fiance_--?!

  The sudden idea of this caused me a nasty twinge--But no, her thirdfinger has no ring on it.--I grew calmer again--.

  "I feel you have a hundred thousand interesting things to say if youwould only talk!" I blurted out at last.

  "I am not here to talk, Sir Nicholas--I am here to do your typing."

  "Does that make a complete barrier?--Won't you be friends with me?"

  Burton came into the room at that moment--and while he was there sheslipped off to her typing without answering me. Burton has arranged aplace for her in his room, which is next to mine, so that I shall not bedisturbed by the noise of her machine clicking.

  "Miss Sharp must lunch with me"--I said.

  Burton coughed as he answered.

  "Very good, Sir Nicholas."

  That meant that he did not approve of this arrangement--why?--Reallythese old servants are unsupportable.

  The antediluvian waiters come in to lay the table presently, and Iordered peaches and grapes and some very special chablis--I feltexultant at my having manoeuvred that Miss Sharp should eat with me!

  She came in when all was ready with her usual serene calm--and took herplace at right angles to me.

  Her hands are not nearly so red to-day, and their movements when shebegan to eat pleased me--her wrists are tiny, and everything she does isdainty.

  She did not peck her food like a bird, as very slight people sometimesdo--and she was entirely at ease--it was I who was nervous--.

  "Won't you take off your glasses," I suggested--but she declined--.

  "Of what use--I can see with them on."

  This disconcerted me.

  The waiter poured out the chablis carefully. She took it casuallywithout a remark, but for an instant a cynical expression grew round hermouth--What was she thinking of?--it is impossible to tell, not seeingher eyes--but some cynical thought was certainly connected with thewine--By the direction of her head she may have been reading the labelon the bottle--Does she know how much it cost and disapprove of that inwar time--or what?

  We talked of French politics next,--that is, she answered everything Isaid with intelligence, and then let the subject dropimmediately--Nothing could be more exasperating because I knew it wasdeliberate and not that she is stupid, or could not keep up the mostprofound conversation. She seemed to know the war situation verywell--Then I began about French literature--and at the end of the mealhad dragged out enough replies to my questions to know that she is anexquisitely cultivated person--Oh! what a companion she would make ifonly I could break down this wretched barrier of her reserve!

  She ate a peach--and I do hope she liked it--but she refused a cigarettewhen I offered her one--.

  "I don't smoke."

  "Oh, I am so sorry I did not know--" and I put out mine.

  "You need not do that--I don't mind other people smoking, so long as Ineed not do it myself."

  I re-lit another one--.

  "Do you know--I believe I shall have my new eye put in beforeChristmas!" I told her just before she rose from the table--and for thefirst time I have known her, the faintest smile came round her mouth--akindly smile--.

  --"I am so very glad," she said.

  And all over me there crept a thrill of pleasure.

  After lunch I suggested the _parc_, and that I should dictate in somelovely cool spot. She made no objection, and immediately put on herhat--a plain dark blue straw. She walked a little behind my bath chairas we turned out of the Reservoires courtyard and began ascending theavenue in the _parc_, so that I could not converse with her. By the timewe had reached the _parterre_ I called to her--

  "Miss Sharp"--

  She advanced and kept beside me--.

  "Does not this place interest you awfully?" I hazarded.

  "Yes."

  "Do you know it well?"

  "Yes."

  "What does it say to you?"

  "It is ever a reminder of what to avoid."

  "What to avoid! but it is perfectly beautiful. Why should you want toavoid beauty?!"

  "I do not--it is what this was meant to stand for and what human beingsfailed in allowing it to do--that is the lesson."

  I was frightfully interested.

  "Tell me what you mean?"

  "The architects were great, the king's thought was great--but only inone way--and everyone--the whole class--forgot the real meaning of_noblesse oblige_, and abused their power--and so the revolution sweptthem away--They put false value upon everything--false values upon birthand breeding--and no value upon their consequent obligations, or uponcharacter--."

  "You believe in acknowledging your obligations I know"--

  "Yes--I hope so--Think in that palace the immense importance which wasgiven to etiquette and forms and ceremonies--and to a quite ridiculousfalse sense of honour--they could ruin their poor tradesmen and--yet--."

  "Yes"--I interrupted--"it was odd, wasn't it?--a gentleman was still agentleman, never paying his tailor's bills--but ceased to be one if hecheated at cards--."

  Miss Sharp suddenly dropped her dark blue parasol and bent to pick it upagain--and as she did she changed the conversation by remarking thatthere were an unusual quantity of aeroplanes buzzing from Buc.

  This was unlike her--I cannot think why she did so. I wanted to steerher back to the subject of Versailles and its meaning--.

  Burton puffed a little as we went up the rather steep slope by the _Ailedu Nord_, and Miss Sharp put her hand on the bar and helped him to pushthe chair.

  "Is it not hateful for me being such a burden"--I could not helpsaying--.

  "It leaves you more time to think--."

  "Well! that is no blessing--that is the agony--thinking."

  "It should not be--to have time to think must be won
derful"--and shesighed unconsciously.

  Over me came a kind of rush of tenderness--I wanted to be strong again,and protect her and make her life easy, and give her time and love andeverything in the world she could wish for--But I dared not sayanything, and she hung back again a little, and once more it made theconversation difficult--and when we reached a sheltered spot by the"_point du jour_" I felt there was a sort of armour around her, and thatit would be wiser to go straight to work and not talk further to-day.

  She went directly from the _parc_ to catch her train at fiveo'clock--and I was wheeled back to the hotel.

  And now I have the evening alone before me--but the day is distinctly astep onward in the friendship line.