by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER XL. ANXIETY.
By a singular coincidence of ideas, Adrienne, like Djalma, had wishedto be dressed exactly in the same costume as at their interview inthe house in the Rue Blanche. For the site of this solemn meeting, soimportant to her future happiness, Adrienne had chosen, with habitualtact, the grand drawing-room of Cardoville House, in which hung manyfamily portraits. The most apparent were those of her father and mother.The room was large and lofty, and furnished, like those which precededit, with all the imposing splendor of the age of Louis XIV. The ceiling,painted by Lebrun, to represent the Triumph of Apollo, displayed hisbold designing and vigorous coloring, in the centre of a wide cornice,magnificently carved and gilt, and supported at its angles by fourlarge gilt figures, representing the Seasons. Huge panels, coveredwith crimson damask, and set in frames, served as the background to thefamily portraits which adorned this apartment. It is easier to conceivethan describe the thousand conflicting emotions which agitated the bosomof Mdlle. de Cardoville as the moment approached for her interview withDjalma. Their meeting had been hitherto prevented by so many painfulobstacles, and Adrienne was so well aware of the vigilant and activeperfidy of her enemies, that even now she doubted of her happiness.Every instant, in spite of herself, her eyes wandered to the clock.A few minutes more, and the hour of the appointment would strike.It struck at last. Every reverberation was echoed from the depth ofAdrienne's heart. She considered that Djalma's modest reserve had,doubtless, prevented his coming before the moment fixed by herself. Farfrom blaming this discretion, she fully appreciated it. But, from thatmoment, at the least noise in the adjoining apartments, she held herbreath and listened with the anxiety of expectation.
For the first few minutes which followed the hour at which she expectedDjalma, Mdlle. de Cardoville felt no serious apprehension, and calmedher impatience by the notion (which appears childish enough to those whohave never known the feverish agitation of waiting for a happy meeting),that perhaps the clocks in the Rue Blanche might vary a little fromthose in the Rue d'Anjou. But when this supposed variation, conceivableenough in itself, could no longer explain a delay of a quarter of anhour, of twenty minutes, of more, Adrienne felt her anxiety graduallyincrease. Two or three times the young girl rose, with palpitatingheart, and went on tip-toe to listen at the door of the saloon. Sheheard nothing. The clock struck half-past three.
Unable to suppress her growing terror, and clinging to a last hope,Adrienne returned towards the fireplace and rang the bell. After whichshe endeavored to compose her features, so as to betray no outward signof emotion. In a few seconds, a gray-haired footman, dressed in black,opened the door, and waited in respectful silence for the orders of hismistress. The latter said to him, in a calm voice, "Andrew, request Hebeto give you the smelling bottle that I left on the chimney-piece in myroom, and bring it me here." Andrew bowed; but just as he was aboutto withdraw to execute Adrienne's orders, which was only a pretext toenable her to ask a question without appearing to attach much importanceto it in her servant's eyes, already informed of the expected visit ofthe prince, Mdlle. de Cardoville added, with an air of indifference."Pray, is that clock right?"
Andrew drew out his watch, and replied as he cast his eyes upon it,"Yes, mademoiselle. I set my watch by the Tuileries. It is more thanhalf past three."
"Very well--thank you!" said Adrienne kindly.
Andrew again bowed; but, before going out, he said to Adrienne, "Iforgot to tell you, lady, that Marshal Simon called about an hour ago;but, as you were only to be at home to Prince Djalma, we told him thatyou received no company."
"Very well," said Adrienne. With another low bow, Andrew quitted theroom, and all returned to silence.
For the precise reason that, up to the last minute of the hour previousto the time fixed for her interview with Djalma, the hopes ofAdrienne had not been disturbed by the slightest shadow of doubt, thedisappointment she now felt was the more dreadful. Casting a despondinglook at one of the portraits placed above her, she murmured, with aplaintive and despairing accent, "Oh, mother!"
Hardly had Mdlle. de Cardoville uttered the words than the windows wereslightly shaken by a carriage rolling into the courtyard. The young ladystarted, and was unable to repress a low cry of joy. Her heart boundedat the thought of meeting Djalma, for this time she felt that he wasreally come. She was quite as certain of it as if she had seen him.She resumed her seat and brushed away a tear suspended from her longeyelashes. Her hand trembled like a leaf. The sound of several doorsopening and shutting proved that the young lady was right in herconjecture. The gilded panels of the drawing-room door soon turned upontheir hinges, and the prince appeared.
While a second footman ushered in Djalma, Andrew placed on a gildedtable, within reach of his mistress, a little silver salver, on whichstood the crystal smelling-bottle. Then he withdrew, and the door ofthe room was closed. The prince and Mdlle. de Cardoville were left alonetogether.
