Colombe as we have seen, was not alarmed by the double explosion of Madame d'Etampes's wrath, but simply took refuge in cold and dignified silence. The duchess, however, following out the new plan she had adopted, now approached her with her most fascinating smile, and took her affectionately by the hand.
"Forgive me, my child," she said, "but I fear I lost my temper; you must not bear me ill will for it; you have the advantage of me in so many ways, that it's natural that I should be jealous. Alas! you, no doubt, like everybody else, consider me a wicked woman. But, in truth, my destiny is at fault, not I. Forgive me, therefore; because we both happen to love Ascanio is no reason why we should hate each other. And then he loves you alone, so 't is your duty to be indulgent. Let us be sisters, what say you? Let us talk frankly together, and I will try to efface from your mind the unfortunate impression which my foolish anger may have left there."
"Madame!" said Colombe, with reserve, and withdrawing her hand with an instinctive movement of repulsion; but she added at once, "Speak, I am listening."
"Oh," said Madame d'Etampes playfully, and as if she understood perfectly her companion's reserve, "have no fear, little savage, I do not ask for your friendship without a guaranty. In order that you may know what manner of woman I am, that you may know me as I know myself, I propose to tell you in two words the story of my life. My heart has little to do with my story, and we poor women, who are called great ladies, are so often slandered! Ah! envy does very wrong to speak ill of us when we are fitter subjects for compassion. For instance, what is your judgment of me, my child? Be frank. You look upon me as a lost woman, do you not?"
Colombe made a gesture indicative of the embarrassment she felt at the idea of replying to such a question.
"But if I am a lost woman, is it my fault? You in your happiness, Colombe, must not be too hard upon those who have suffered,—you who have lived hitherto in innocent solitude, and do not know what it is to be reared upon ambitious dreams: for they who are destined to that torture, like victims decked out with flowers, see only the bright side of life. There is no question of love, simply of pleading. So it was that from my earliest youth my thoughts were all bent upon fascinating the king; the beauty which God gives to woman to be exchanged for true love, I was forced to exchange for a title; they made of my charms a snare. Tell me now, Colombe, what could be the fate of a poor child, taken in hand before she has learned to know the difference between good and evil, and who is told, 'The good is evil, the evil is good'? And so, you see, although others despair of me, I do not despair of myself. Perhaps God will forgive me, for no one stood beside me to tell me of him. What was there for me to do, alone as I was, and weak and defenceless? Craft and deceit have made up my whole life from that time on. And yet I was not made to play such a hideous rôle; the proof is that I love Ascanio, and that when I found that I loved him I was happy and ashamed at the same time. Now tell me, my pure, darling child, do you understand me?"
"Yes." innocently replied Colombe, deceived by this false good faith, this lie masquerading in the guise of truth.
"Then you will have pity on me," cried the duchess; "you will let me love Ascanio from a distance, all by myself, hopelessly; and in that way I shall not be your rival, for he will not care for me; and, in return, I, who know the world and its snares, its pitfalls and deceit, will take the place of the mother you have lost. I will guide you, I will save you. Now you see that you can trust me, for you save my life. A child in whose heart the passions of a woman were sown, that in brief is my past. My present you see for yourself; it is the shame of being the declared mistress of a king. My future is my love for Ascanio,—not his for me, because, as you have said, and as I have very often told myself, Ascanio will never love me; but for the very reason that love will remain pure it will purify me. Now it is your turn, to speak, to open your heart, to tell me everything. Tell me your story, dear girl."
"My story, madame, is very brief and very simple," said Colombe; "it may all be summed up in three loves. I have loved, I love, and I shall love,—God, my father, and Ascanio. But in the past my love for Ascanio, whom I had not then met, was a dream; at present it is a cause of suffering; in the future, it is a hope."
"Very good," said the duchess, restraining her jealousy, and forcing back her tears; "but do not half confide in me, Colombe. What do you mean to do now? How can you, poor child, contend with two such powerful wills as your father's and Comte d'Orbec's? To say nothing of the king's having seen you and fallen in love with you."