"No, he did not wish to weary you. He only left this note:"
"You were divine in Phedre, delightfully feminine in Barberine. No one is happier at your phenomenal success than your always devoted, Albert Styvens."
Esperance felt a world of gratitude to the young Count for not having waited to see her. She went into her room to undress, and in doing so drew gently from her belt the white orchid. She was about to put it in one of the two vases on the mantel-piece, when her hand paused of its own accord and remained inert; her gaze had been caught by the Duke de Morlay-La-Branche's gardenias in the other vase. Radiant with freshness it caught the eye, it invited her to come and smell. The girl bent towards its whiteness. The intoxicating perfume held her. Her head drooped nearer and nearer the delicate blossoms. Her lip touched the smooth flesh of the petal. She trembled violently and threw her head back. It seemed as if a kiss had been given her! She quivered, closing her eyes, longing for the unpleasant feeling to pass.
After a few moments she looked at the poor orchid which had dropped on the cold marble mantel-piece. She lifted it up carefully and placed it in some fresh water.
Then she sat down before the vases where the two rival flowers displayed their charms. She was bitterly conscious of being impelled by a new inner force, an almost evil force. And she looked from the mantel to the ivory Virgin, whose open hands seemed to be showering blessings.
Esperance looked back to the white orchid.
"If I do not marry that man I am lost," she thought.
Almost terrified, she got up and walked about to calm herself, to conquer the instinct which her reason told her was wrong. Still under the strain of the emotions of the triumphal day, and to escape the disagreeable thought the sight of the radiant gardenias provoked in her, she began to write a long letter to the Countess Styvens. That soothed her nervousness a little. She poured out all her heart in the letter, for she knew that this woman loved her independently of the love of her son—loved her entirely for her own self.
Two days later Esperance received a letter from the Director of the Comedie-Française, asking her to call at four o'clock that same day at the theatre. At the right hour she went with her mother and Mlle. Frahender. Without delay she was at once engaged, for Madame Darbois had the spoken and written authority of her husband to make what arrangements her daughter should desire. The Director was most complimentary to the young actress and asked what rôle she would care to choose for her debut. Esperance proclaimed her preference for "Dona Sol" in Hernani or "Camille" in "On ne badine pas avec l'amour."
Her heart was filled with emotion as she was leaving the great house of which in future she would be a part. The Place du Carrousel, the perspective of the Tuileries, and the Champs Elysées seemed more beautiful than ever before. The passers-by were charming. Everything, everywhere, spoke only of happiness and hope.