“Oh, ma chère, ma chère,” the shocked angels chorussed. Then turning to Inarime, one of them soothed her perplexity.
“Don’t pay any heed to the exaggerations of Eméraude. She likes to frighten people. She talks that way, but she means nothing. Comme tu sais blaguer, Eméraude.”
“Mais, point du tout. Je suis sérieuse. Qu’est ce que serait la vie si l’on ne savait pas se moquer de ses chagrins, au lieu de s’en attrister?” protested Eméraude.
“I applaud your sentiment. Cheerfulness I should imagine to be the lesson of life and our highest aspiration,” said Inarime.
“It is not mine, assuredly,” cried Sappho. “My dream is excitement—oh, but the excitement that consumes and fills up every hour, waking and sleeping. I should adore being married to a man I hated, rich, powerful and commanding, of whom I was desperately afraid, and to be in love with a poor, divinely beautiful young officer. To think of the thrilling terrors and consuming bliss of meetings at parties, at theatres, in picture galleries, horribly shadowed by a jealous husband, only time to whisper a hurried greeting and look into each other’s eyes——”
Be assured this rash prospective sinner was in mind as innocent of a sinister meaning as in limpid gaze. Mademoiselle Veritassi measured her scornfully.
“You have probably been taking your first plunge into Feuillet in secret, and are talking of what you do not in the least understand. You would find your young officer a complete idiot, and his divinely beautiful face would soon enough pall on you. Love, romantic or otherwise, will not be my domain. I aspire to marry a man of moderate intelligence, pliable, of the world and of the best tone, with the doors of a foreign embassy open to him, whom I shall mould and lead, and whose fortune I shall make. My dream is more legitimate, though from the purely masculine point of view, hardly less incorrect than Sappho’s.”
“And yours?” Andromache asked shyly of Inarime.
“Mine? I have none. I have not felt the need for excitement or novelty. My quiet, uneventful life has hitherto amply satisfied me—until lately, until quite lately,” she added, with a slight break in her voice.
Mademoiselle Veritassi scrutinised her through narrowed lids, and smiled imperceptibly.