CHAPTER XIII
THE INDUSTRIAL ORPHAN ASYLUM
When the prefectoral axe of the Baron Haussmann hewed its way through the Faubourg St. Germain in order to create the boulevard to which this aristocratic centre has given its flame, the appropriation of private property for public purposes caused to disappear numerous ancient dwellings bearing armorial devices, torn down in the interest of the public good, to the equalizing level of a line of tramways. In the midst of this sacrilegious upheaval, the Hotel de Montgeron, one of the largest in the Rue St. Dominique, had the good fortune to be hardly touched by the surveyor's line; in exchange for a few yards sliced obliquely from the garden, it received a generous addition of air and light on that side of the mansion which formerly had been shut in.
The Duke lived there in considerable state. His electors, faithful in all things, had made of their deputy a senator who sat in the Luxembourg, in virtue of the Republican Constitution, as he would have sat as a peer of France had the legitimate monarchy followed its course. He was a great lord in the true meaning of the word: gracious to the humble, affable among his equals, inclined, among the throng of new families, to take the part of the disinherited against that of the usurpers.
In Mademoiselle de Prerolles he had found a companion animated with the same sentiments, and the charitable organization, meeting again at the Duchess's residence, on the day following the revival of 'Adrienne Lecouvreuer', to appoint officers for the Industrial Orphan Asylum, could not have chosen a president more worthy or more devoted.
Besides such austere patronesses as Madame Desvanneaux and her daughter, the organization included several persons belonging to the world of fashion, such as Madame de Lisieux and Madame de Nointel, whose influence was the more effective because their circle of acquaintance was more extensive. The gay world often fraternizes willingly with those who are interested in philanthropic works.
The founders of the Industrial Orphan Asylum intended that the institution should harbor, bring up, and instruct as great a number as possible of the children of infirm or deceased laborers.
The secretary, M. Andre Desvanneaux, churchwarden of Ste.-Clotilde, as was his father before him, and in addition a Roman count, had just finished his address, concluding by making the following double statement: First, the necessity for combining all available-funds for the purchase of the land required, and for the building of the asylum itself; second, to determine whether the institution could be maintained by the annual resources of the organization.
"I should like to observe," said the Duchesse de Montgeron, "that the first of these two questions is the only order of the day. Not counting the purchase of the land, the architect's plan calls for an estimate of five hundred thousand francs in round numbers."
"And we have on hand—" said the Comtesse de Lisieux.
"One hundred and sixty-odd thousand francs from the first subscriptions," said M. Desvanneaux. "It has been decided that the work shall not begin until we have disposed of half of the sum total. Therefore, the difference we have to make up at present is about one hundred and forty thousand francs. In order to realize this sum, the committee of action proposes to organize at the Palais de l'Industrie a grand kermess, with the assistance of the principal artists from the theatres of Paris, including that of Mademoiselle Gontier, of the Comedie Francaise," added the secretary, with a sly smile on observing the expression of General de Prerolles.
"Good!" Henri promptly rejoined. "That will permit Monsieur Desvanneaux to combine very agreeably the discharge of his official duties with the making of pleasant acquaintances!"
"The object of my action in this matter is above all suspicion," remarked the churchwarden, with great dignity, while his wife darted toward him a furious glance.
"You? Come, come!" continued the General, who took a mischievous delight in making trouble for the worthy Desvanneaux. "Every one knows quite well that you have by no means renounced Satan, his pomps—"
"And his good works!" added Madame de Nointel, with a burst of laughter somewhat out of place in this formal gathering for the discussion of charitable works.
"We are getting outside of the question," said the Duchess, striking her bell. "Moreover, is not the assistance of these ladies necessary?"
"Indispensable," the secretary replied. "Their assistance will greatly increase the receipts."
"What sum shall we decide upon as the price of admission?" asked Madame de Lisieux.
"Twenty francs," said Desvanneaux. "We have a thousand tickets printed already, and, if the ladies present wish to solicit subscriptions, each has before her the wherewithal to inscribe appropriate notes of appeal."
"To be drawn upon at sight," said the Comtesse de Lisieux, taking a pen.
"A tax on vanity, I should call it."
She wrote rapidly, and then read aloud:
"MY DEAR BARON:
"Your proverbial generosity justifies my new appeal. You will accept, I am sure, the ten tickets which I enclose, when you know that your confreres, the Messieurs Axenstein, have taken double that number."
"And here," said the Vicomtesse de Nointel, "is a tax on gallantry." And she read aloud:
"MY DEAR PRINCE:
"You have done me the honor to write to me that you love me. I suppose I ought to show your note to my husband, who is an expert swordsman; but I prefer to return to you your autograph letter for the price of these fifteen tickets. Go—and sin again, should your heart prompt you!"
"But that is a species of blackmail, Madame!" cried Madame Desvanneaux.
"The end justifies the means," replied the Vicomtesse gayly. "Besides, I am accountable only to the Duc de Montgeron. What is his opinion?"
"I call it a very clever stroke," said the Duke.
"You hear, Madame! Only, of course, not every lady has a collection of similar little notes!" said the Vicomtesse de Nointel.
The entrance of M. Durand, treasurer of the society, interrupted the progress of this correspondence.
"Do not trouble yourselves so much, Mesdames," said the notary. "The practical solution of the matter I am about to lay before you, if Madame the president will permit me to speak."
"I should think so!" said the Duchess. "Speak, by all means!"
"A charitable person has offered to assume all the expenses of the affair," said the notary, "on condition that carte blanche is granted to her in the matter of the site. In case her offer is accepted, she will make over to the society, within three months, the title to the real estate, in regular order."
"Do you guarantee the solvency of this person?" demanded M. Desvanneaux, who saw the project of the kermess falling to the ground.
"It is one of my rich clients; but I have orders not to reveal her name unless her offer is accepted."
The unanimity with which all hands were raised did not even give time to put the question.
"Her name?" demanded the Duchess.
"Here it is," replied the notary, handing her a visiting card.
"'Valentine de Vermont,'" she read aloud.
"Zibeline?" cried Madame de Nointel. "Bravo! I offer her the assurance of my esteem!"
"And I also," added Madame de Lisieux.
"I can not offer mine," said Madame Desvanneaux, dryly. "A young woman who is received nowhere!"
"So generous an act should open all doors to her, beginning with mine," said the Duchesse de Montgeron. "I beg that you will tell her so from me, Monsieur Durand."
"At once, Madame. She is waiting below in her carriage."
"Why did you not say so before? I must beg her myself to join us here," said the master of the house, leaving the room in haste.
"See how any one can purchase admission to our world in these days!" whispered Madame Desvanneaux in her daughter's ear.
"Heavens! yes, dear mother! The only question is whether one is able to pay the price."
We must render justice to the two titled patronesses by saying that the immediate admission of Mademoiselle de Vermont to their circle seemed to them the least they could do, and that they greeted her appearance, as she entered on the arm of the Duke, with a sympathetic murmur which put the final stroke to the exasperation of the two malicious dames.
"You are very welcome here, Mademoiselle," said the Duchess, advancing to greet her guest. "I am delighted to express to you, in behalf of all these ladies, the profound gratitude with which your generous aid inspires them!"
"It is more than I deserve, Madame la Duchesse!" said Valentine. "The important work in which they have taken the initiative is so interesting that each of us should contribute to it according to his means. I am alone in Paris, without relatives or friends, and these ladies have furnished me the means to cure my idleness; so it is I, rather, who am indebted to them."
Whether this speech were studied or not, it was pronounced to be in very good taste, and the stranger's conquest of the assemblage was more and more assured.
"Since you wish to join us," resumed the Duchess, "allow me to present to you these gentlemen: Monsieur Desvanneaux, our zealous general secretary—"
"I have already had the pleasure of seeing Monsieur at my house," said Valentine, "also Madame Desvanneaux; and although I was unable to accede to their wishes, I retain, nevertheless, the pleasantest recollections of their visit."
"Good hit!" whispered Madame de Nointel to her neighbor.
"The Marquis de Prerolles, my brother," the Duchess continued.
"The smiles of Fortune must be sweet, Mademoiselle," said the General, bowing low.
"Not so sweet as those of Glory, General," Zibeline replied, with a pretty air of deference.
"She possesses a decidedly ready wit," said Madame de Lisieux in a confidential aside.
"Now, ladies," added the president, "I believe that the best thing we can do is to leave everything in the hands of Mademoiselle and our treasurer. The examination of the annual resources will be the object of the next meeting. For to-day, the meeting is adjourned."
Then, as Mademoiselle de Vermont was about to mingle with the other ladies, the Duchess detained her an instant, inquiring:
"Have you any engagement for this evening, Mademoiselle?"
"None, Madame."
"Will you do us the honor to join us in my box at the opera?"
"But—I have no one to accompany me," said Zibeline. "I dismissed my cousin De Sainte-Foy, thinking that I should have no further need of his escort to-day."
"That does not matter at all," the Duchess replied. "We will stop for you on our way."
"I should not like to trouble you so much, Madame. If you will allow me, I will stop at your door at whatever hour will be agreeable to you, and my carriage shall follow yours."
"Very well. At nine o'clock, if you please. They sing Le Prophete tonight, and we shall arrive just in time for the ballet."
"The 'Skaters' Ballet,'" said the General.
This remark recalled to Mademoiselle her triumph of the evening before.
"Do you bear a grudge against me?" she said, with a smile.
"Less and less of one," the General replied.
"Then, let us make a compact of peace," said Zibeline, holding out her hand in the English fashion.
With these words she left the room on the arm of the Duke, who claimed the honor of escorting her to her carriage.
"Shall you go to the opera also?" asked the Duchess of her brother.
"Yes, but later. I shall dine in town."
"Then-au-revoir—this evening!"
"This evening!"