Read Ebook: Bijou by Gyp Hallard Alys Translator

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Ebook has 2669 lines and 64399 words, and 54 pages

"It was Paul; he particularly wished the children to be educated by a priest, at any rate, to begin with. He is very religious."

Denyse de Courtaix, nicknamed Bijou, was an exquisite little creature, refined-looking, graceful, and slender, and yet all over dimples. She had large violet eyes, limpid, and full of expression, a straight nose, turning up almost imperceptibly at the end, a very small mouth, with very red lips going up merrily at the corners, and showing some small, milky-white teeth. Her soft, silky hair was of that light auburn shade so rarely seen nowadays. Her tiny ears were shaded with pink, like mother-of-pearl, and this same pinky shade was to be seen not only on her cheeks, but on her forehead, her neck, and her hands. It shone all over her skin with a rosy gleam. Her eyebrows alone, which crossed her smooth, intelligent forehead with a very fine, and almost unbroken dark line, indicated the fact that this frail and pretty little creature had a will of her own.

Bijou, who looked about fifteen or sixteen years of age, had attained her majority just a week ago, but from her perfect and dainty little person there seemed to emanate a breath of child-like candour and innocence. Her charm, however, which was most subtle and penetrating, was distinctly that of a woman, and it was this contrast which made Bijou so fascinating and so unlike other girls. Such as she was, she infatuated men, delighted women, and was adored by all.

As soon as she entered the room, all rosy-looking in her pink dress of cloudy muslin, with a sort of flat basket filled with roses, fastened round her neck with pink ribbon, everyone surrounded her, glad to welcome the gaiety which seemed to enter with her, for until her arrival the large room had felt somewhat bare and empty.

Paul de Rueille, who was playing billiards with his brother-in-law, Henry de Bracieux, came to ask for a rose from her basket, whilst Henry, who had followed him, took one without asking.

The de Rueille children, leaving the abb?, who continued calling out the loto numbers in a monotonous tone, went sliding across to the young girl, and hung about her. Their mother called them back.

"Leave Bijou alone, children; you worry her!"

"Robert! Marcel! come here," said the abb?, getting up.

"Oh, no," protested Bijou, "let them alone; I like to have them!"

She took the basket from her neck, and was just about to put it down on the billiard-table, when she suddenly stopped.

"Oh, no! I must have mercy on the game."

"Isn't she nice? she thinks of everything," murmured Henry de Bracieux, quite touched.

"Come and kiss me, Bijou," said the marchioness.

Denyse had just put her basket down on a divan. She took from it a full-blown rose, and went quickly across to her grandmother, whom she kissed over and over again in a fondling way as a child.

"There," she said, presenting her rose, "it is the most beautiful one of all!" Her voice was rather high-pitched, rather "a head-voice" perhaps, but it sounded so young and clear, and then, too, she spoke so distinctly, and with such an admirable pronunciation.

"You have not seen Pierrot, then?" asked the marchioness.

"Pierrot?" said Bijou, as though she were trying to recall something to her memory. "Why, yes, I have seen him; he was with me a minute or two helping me to gather the flowers, and then he went away to his father, who was shooting rabbits in the wood."

"I might have thought as much; that boy does not do a thing."

"But, grandmamma, he is here for his holidays."

"His holidays if you like; but, all the same, if a tutor has been engaged for him, it is surely so that he may work."

"But he must take some rest now and again, poor Pierrot--and his tutor too."

"They do nothing else, though. Well, as long as my brother knows it, and as long as it suits him--"

"It suits him to-day, anyhow, for he told them to join him in the wood."

"Yes," replied Denyse, with her beautiful, frank smile, and not noticing her grandmother's mocking intonation, "he has been gathering roses, too."

"He probably enjoyed that more than shooting rabbits," said the marchioness, glancing at a tall young man who was just entering the room, "for if he went to join your uncle in the wood, he did not stay long with him anyhow!"

"Why--no!"--said Bijou in astonishment, and then leaving her grandmother, she advanced to meet the young man.

"Did you not find uncle, Monsieur Giraud?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, mademoiselle," he replied, turning very red. "Yes, certainly, we found M. de Jonzac; but--I--I was obliged to come in--as I have some of Pierre's exercises to correct." And then, doubtlessly wanting to explain how it was that he had come into that room, he added, slightly confused: "I just came in here to see whether I had left my books about--I thought--but--I do not see them here--"

He had not taken his eyes off Bijou, and was going away again when the marchioness, looking at him indulgently, and with an amused expression in her eyes, called him back.

"Will you not stay and have a smoke here, Monsieur Giraud? Is there such a hurry as all that for the correction of those exercises?"

"Oh, no, madame!" answered the tutor eagerly, retracing his steps, "there is no hurry at all."

The old lady leaned forward towards Madame de Rueille, who was silently working at a handsome piece of tapestry, and said to her with a smile: "He is not like the abb?--this young man!"

Bertrade lifted her pretty head and answered gravely:

"No!"

"You look as though you pitied him?"

"I do, with all my heart."

"And why, pray?"

"Because the poor fellow, after coming to us as gay as a lark a fortnight ago, and winning all our hearts, will go away from here sad and unhappy, his heart heavy with grief or anger."

"Oh, you always see the black side of things; he thinks Bijou is sweet, he admires her and likes to be with her; but that is all!"

"You know very well, grandmamma, that Bijou is perfectly adorable, and so attractive that everyone is fascinated by her."

The marchioness pointed to her great-nephew, Jean de Blaye, who, ever since he had left the window, did not appear to be taking any notice of what was going on around him.

"Everyone?" she said, almost angrily; "no, not everyone. Look at Jean, he is as blind as the abb?!"

Jean de Blaye was sitting motionless in a large arm-chair; there was an impassive expression on his face, and a far-away look in his eyes. He appeared to be in a reverie, and the younger lady glanced across at him, as she answered:

"I am afraid that he is only acting blind!"

"Oh, nonsense!" said Madame de Bracieux delighted, "do you think that Bijou could possibly interest Jean enough, for instance, to keep him, even for a time, from his actresses, his horses, his theatres, and the stupid life he generally leads?--You really think so?"

"I do think so!"

"And how long have you thought this?"

"Bijou?"

"Exactly."

"So much the better if that really should be so. For my part, I do not think it looks like it. He takes no notice of her."

"When we are watching him--no."

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