Jeanne of the Marshes

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

  CHAPTER VIII

  The Princess and Jeanne drove homewards in a silence which remainedunbroken until the last few minutes. The events of the evening had beensomewhat perplexing to the former. She scarcely understood even now whya great personage like the Duke of Westerham had shown such interest inher charge.

  "Tell me, Jeanne," she asked at last, "why is the Duke of Westerham sofriendly with your fisherman?"

  Jeanne raised her eyebrows slightly.

  "'My fisherman,' as you call him," she answered, "is, after all, Andrewde la Borne! They were at school together."

  "That is all very well," the Princess answered, "but I cannot see whatpossible sympathy there can be between them now. Their stations in lifeare altogether different. You talked with the Duke for some time,Jeanne?"

  "He was very kind to me," Jeanne answered.

  "Did he give you any idea," the Princess asked, "as to why he wasstaying down at Salthouse with Mr. Andrew?"

  "None at all," Jeanne answered.

  "You know very well," the Princess continued, "of what I am thinking.Did he speak to you at all of Major Forrest?"

  "Not a word," Jeanne answered.

  "Of his brother, then?"

  "He did not mention his name," Jeanne declared.

  "He asked you no questions at all about anything which may havehappened at the Red Hall?"

  Jeanne shook her head.

  "Certainly not!"

  "You do not think, then," the Princess persisted, "that it was for thesake of gaining information about his brother that he talked with youso much?"

  "Why should I think so?" Jeanne asked. "He scarcely mentioned any ofyour names even. He talked to me simply out of kindness, and I thinkbecause he knew that Mr. Andrew and I were friends."

  The Princess smiled.

  "You seem," she remarked, "to have made quite a conquest. Icongratulate you. The Duke has not the reputation of being an easy manto get on with."

  The carriage pulled up before their house in Berkeley Square, and thePrincess did not pursue the subject, but as Jeanne left her for thenight, her stepmother called her back.

  "To-morrow morning," she said, "I should be glad if you would come tomy room at twelve o'clock, I have something to say to you."

  Jeanne slept well that night. For the first time she felt that she hadlost the feeling of friendlessness which for the last few weeks hadconstantly oppressed her. Andrew de la Borne was back in London, andthe Duke, who seemed to have some sort of understanding as to thetroubles which were likely to beset her, had gone out of his way tooffer her his help. She felt now that she would not have to fight herstepmother's influence unaided. Yet when she sought her room at twelveo'clock the next morning she had very little idea of the sort of fightwhich she might indeed have to make.

  The Princess had already spent an hour at her toilette. Her hair wascarefully arranged and her face massaged. She received her stepdaughterwith some show of affection, and bade her sit close to her.

  "Jeanne," she said, "you are now nearly twenty years old. For manyreasons I wish to see you married. The Count de Brensault formallyproposed for you last night. He is coming at three o'clock thisafternoon for his answer."

  Jeanne sat upright in her chair. Her stepmother noticed a new air ofdetermination in the poise of her head, and the firm lines of her mouth.

  "The Count might have spared himself the trouble," she said. "He knowsvery well what my answer will be. I think that you know, too. It is no,most emphatically and decidedly! I will not marry the Count deBrensault."

  "Before you express yourself so irrevocably," the Princess said calmly,"I should like you to understand that it is my wish that you accept hisoffer."

  "In all ordinary matters," Jeanne answered, "I am prepared to obey you.In this, no! I think that I have the right to choose my husband formyself, or at any rate to approve of whomever you may select. I--do notapprove of the Count de Brensault. I do not care for him, and I nevercould care for him, and I will not marry him!"

  The Princess said nothing for several moments. Then she moved towardthe door which led into her sleeping chamber, where her maid was stillbusy, and turned the key in the lock.

  "Jeanne," she said when she returned, "I think it is time that you weretold something which I am afraid will be a shock to you. This greatfortune of yours, of which you have heard so much, and which has beenso much talked about, is a myth."

  "What do you mean?" Jeanne asked, looking at her stepmother withstartled eyes.

  "Exactly what I say," the Princess continued. "Your father made hugegifts to his relatives during the last few years of his life, and heleft enormous sums in charity. To you he left the remainder of hisestate, which all the world believed to amount to at least a millionpounds. But when things came to be realized, all his securities seemedto have depreciated. The legacies were paid in cash. The depreciationof his fortune all fell upon you. When everything had been paid, therewas something like twenty-five thousand pounds left. More than half ofthat has gone in your education, and in an allowance to myself since Ihave had the charge of you. There is a little left in the hands ofMonsieur Laplanche, but very little indeed. What there is we owe foryour dresses, the rent of this house, and other things."

  "You mean," Jeanne interrupted bewildered, "that I have no money atall?"

  "Practically none," the Princess answered. "Now you can see why it isso important that you should marry a rich man."

  Jeanne was bewildered. It was hard to grasp these things which herstepmother was telling her.

  "If this be true," she said, "how is it that every one speaks of me asbeing a great heiress?"

  The Princess glanced at her with a contemptuous smile.

  "You do not suppose," she said, "that I have found it necessary to takethe whole world into my confidence."

  "You mean," Jeanne said, "that people don't know that I am not a greatheiress?"

  "Certainly not," the Princess replied, "or we should scarcely be here."

  "The Count de Brensault?" Jeanne asked.

  "He does not know, of course," the Princess answered. "He is a richman. He can afford quite well to marry a girl without a DOT."

  Jeanne's head fell slowly between her hands. The suddenness of thisblow had staggered her. It was not the loss of her fortune so muchwhich affected her as the other contingencies with which she wassurrounded. She tried to think, and the more she thought the moreinvolved it all seemed. She looked up at last.

  "If my fortune is really gone," she said, "why do you let people talkabout it, and write about me in the papers as though I were still sorich?"

  The Princess shrugged her shoulders.

  "For your own sake," she answered. "It is necessary to find you ahusband, is it not, and nowadays one does not find them easily whenthere is no DOT."

  Jeanne felt her cheeks burning.

  "I am to be married, then," she said slowly, "by some one who thinks Ihave a great deal of money, and who afterwards will be able to turnround and reproach me for having deceived him."

  The Princess laughed.

  "Afterwards," she said, "the man will not be too anxious to let theworld know that he has been made a fool of. If you play your cardsproperly, the afterwards will come out all right."

  Jeanne rose slowly to her feet.

  "I do not think," she said, "that you have quite understood me. Ishould like you to know that nothing would ever induce me to marry anyone unless they knew the truth. I will not go on accepting invitationsand visiting people's houses, many of whom have only asked me becausethey think that I am very rich. Every one must know the truth at once."

  "And how, may I ask, do you propose to live?" the Princess askedquietly.

  "If there is nothing left at all of my money," Jeanne said, "I willwork. If it is the worst which comes, I will go back to the convent andteach the children."

  The Princess laughed softly.

  "Jeanne," she said, "you are talking like a positive idiot. It isbecause you have had no time to
think this thing out. Remember thatafter all you are not sailing under any false colours. You are yourfather's daughter, and you are also his heiress. If the newspapers andgossip have exaggerated the amount of his fortune, that is not youraffair. Be reasonable, little girl," she added, letting her hand fallupon Jeanne's. "Don't give us all away like this. Remember that I havemade sacrifices for your sake. I owe more money than I can pay for yourdresses, for the carriage, for the house here. Nothing but yourmarriage will put us straight again. You must make up your mind tothis. The Count de Brensault is so much in love with you that he willask no questions. You must marry him."

  Jeanne drew herself away from her stepmother's touch.

  "Nothing," she said, "would induce me to marry the Count de Brensault,not even if he knew that I am penniless. If we cannot afford to live inthis house, or to keep carriages, let us go away at once and take roomssomewhere. I do not wish to live under false pretences."

  The Princess was very pale, but her eyes were hard and steely.

  "Child," she said, "don't be a fool. Don't make me angry, or I may sayand do things for which I should be sorry. It is no fault of mine thatyou are not a great heiress. I have done the next best thing for you. Ihave made people believe that you are. Be reasonable, and all will bewell yet. If you are going to play the Quixote, it will be ruin for allof us. I cannot think how a child like you got such ideas. Rememberthat I am many years older and wiser than you. You should leave it tome to do what is best."

  Jeanne shook her head.

  "I cannot," she said simply. "I am sorry to disappoint you, but I shalltell every one I meet that I have no money, and I will not marry theCount de Brensault."

  The Princess grasped her by the wrist.

  "You will not obey me, child?" she said.

  "I will obey you in everything reasonable," Jeanne said.

  "Very well, then," the Princess answered, "go to your room at once."

  Jeanne turned and walked toward the door. On the threshold, however,she paused. There were many times, she remembered, when her stepmotherhad been kind to her. She looked around at the Princess, sitting withher head resting upon her clasped hands.

  "I am very sorry," Jeanne said timidly, "that I cannot do what youwish. It is not honest. Cannot you see that it is not honest?"

  The Princess turned slowly round.

  "Honest!" she repeated scornfully. "Who is there in our world who canafford to be honest? You are behaving like a baby, Jeanne. I only hopethat before long you may come to your senses. Will you obey me if Itell you not to leave your room until I send for you?"

  Jeanne hesitated.

  "Yes!" she said. "I will obey you in that."

  "Then go there and wait," the Princess said. "I must think what to do."