It all amounts to this—that having the honour of being my uncle's nephew, nothing happens to me in the same way as to other mortals, and that consequently all the careful arrangements that I made in regard to Kondjé-Gul have eventuated in a manner completely opposed to my express intentions. But although my objective has been considerably enlarged, it remains substantially the same, as I think you will remark.
Kondjé-Gul and her mother are now settled down in Count Téral's house; and it is hardly necessary for me to describe to you the joy which she felt at the termination of her educational seclusion. The first few days after her return were days of frenzied delight, and we spent them almost entirely together. Her metamorphosis was now so complete, that I felt as if I were witnessing one of the fabulous Indian avatars, and that another soul had taken up its dwelling in this divinely beautiful body of hers. I could not tire of watching her as she walked, and listening to her as she spoke. In her Oriental costume, which she occasionally resumes, in order to please me, the American girl's ways, which she has picked up from Suzannah and Maud, produce a most remarkable effect. And with all this was mingled that exquisitely blended aroma of youth, beauty, and dignity, which permeated her and surrounded her like the sweet perfume of some strange Oriental blossom!
We have settled our plan of life. Knowing the whole truth, as she does now, about our social habits, she understands the necessity of veiling our happiness under the most profound mystery. Confiding in the sanctity of a tie which her religion legitimizes, she is aware that we must conceal it from the eyes of the world, like any secret marriage. Besides, what advantage would there be in lifting the veil of mystery, and taking the poetry out of this romantic union—thus reducing it to the vulgar level of an ordinary intrigue? If I were to treat my Kondjé like a common mistress, would not that be degrading her?
When I tried to console her for the dulness which this constraint must cause her, she exclaimed, with vehemence—
"Be so good as not to calumniate my woman's heart! What do I care for your country, and its laws, so long as you love me? I don't care to know either your society, or its customs, or its conventionalities. I belong to you, and I love you; that is all I see, all I feel. I am neither your wife, nor your mistress. From the depths of my soul I feel that I am more than either. I am your slave, and I wish to preserve my bonds. Command me, do what you like with me; and when you love me no longer, kill me, that's all!"
"Yes, dear!" I replied, laughing at her rhapsodies, "I will sew you up in a sack, and go and throw you in the Bosphorus some evening!"
She received this remark with a peal of childish laughter.
"Goodness me!" she said, in her confusion; "why, I was quite forgetting that I am civilised!"
Count Téral's house has been quite a find for us; it seems just as if it had been built expressly for Kondjé-Gul and her mother. On the ground-floor, approached by a short flight of eight steps, is a drawing-room, which opens into a sort of hall, resembling an artist's studio. The latter serves as picture-gallery, library, and concert-room. Above the wainscoting the eye is relieved by silk hangings, of a large grey-striped pattern on white ground, in contrast with which is the rich garnet of a velvet-covered suite of furniture. There are some curious old cabinets in carved ebony, set out with statuettes, vases, flowers, and nick-nacks. The general effect is lively, enchanting, and luxurious; in fact, just what the home of a young lady of patrician birth, who confines herself to a small circle of friends, should be. On the first floor are the private apartments, and on the second the servants' rooms. The establishment is maintained on the elegant, yet simple scale, which seems proper for members of good society; they keep three horses, and a neat brougham: nothing more. Their luxuries, in short, are all in the well-considered style suitable for a rich foreign lady and her daughter, who mix in Parisian society with the reserve and delicate taste of two women anxious to avoid attracting too much attention.
Kondjé-Gul's private life is contrived, as well as everything else, to preserve her against solitude or dulness. She is completing her "civilisation" with industrious zeal. Every morning, from eight o'clock to twelve, is devoted to work; governesses from Madame Montier's come to continue her course of lessons; then from one to two she practises on the piano. Her curious mind, with its mixture of ardent imagination and youthful intelligence, is really producing a wonderful intellectual structure upon its original foundation of native belief and superstitions. I am often quite surprised by hearing her display, on the subject of our social contradictions, an amount of observation and a grasp of view which would do credit to a philosopher.