THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 

 
 V {
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY.
 
 GOLDEN 
 
 MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 3H iJSotocL 
 
 BY 
 
 EUGENIE HAMERTON. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS. 
 
 1886.
 
 Copyright, 1S8G, 
 By Rouerts Brothers. 
 
 atnibtrrsitu Jprtas: 
 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge.
 
 J- 
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 "Here is a letter from England," said Monsieur 
 Mole to his wife, who was already seated at the 
 breakfast-table pouring out the cafe-au-lait, but 
 who suddenly forgot all about it to inquire eagerly, 
 
 " From Jean ? " 
 
 "Of course! let us see what he says, Papa!" 
 exclaimed Helene, and she went to peruse her 
 brother's letter over M. Mole's shoulder. 
 
 "He says that lie will soon come back," M. 
 Mole answered in a cheerful, manly voice; "but 
 he is not coming alone. It appears that Mr. Pearce 
 has persuaded his mother and his cousin to spend 
 the vacations in France with him, and it's decided 
 that they will first try to find suitable lodgings in 
 our neighborhood." 
 
 "Now that we are sure of his coming, had we 
 not better take our breakfast '." resumed little 
 Madame Mole, in the somewhat plaintive tone 
 habitual to her ; "the milk is getting quite cold: 
 
 8P !
 
 G GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 and besides, this is not the proper way to read a 
 letter. I see Helene glancing at the top, then at 
 the bottom, while you are trying to see what is on 
 the other side. Give me the letter, I say, to put in 
 my pocket till breakfast is over, and then we 
 shall read it properly from beginning to end, 
 together." 
 
 M. Mole obediently handed the letter to his 
 wife, with a deep sigh and a humorous smile, 
 which seemed to say, " I know you always have 
 your way," — as in fact she always had. 
 
 "It's such a pity," resumed Helene, as soon as 
 they were seated again, " that Jean is not coming 
 alone! I am afraid, Hainan, that we shall see 
 very little of him if he acts as cicerone to his 
 English friends." 
 
 " Oil ! I don't know ; Jean goes out a greal deal 
 when he is here." 
 
 "Yes, but he often takes me with him." 
 
 " And what will prevent him from taking you 
 out ?" asked his father. 
 
 "Oh!" answered H&ene, blushing, "it will be 
 his tiresome friend." 
 
 u An fait, it's true that Mr. Pearce is not mar- 
 ried," remarked Madame Mole\ "but 1 don't know 
 if he is old or young. Perhaps he is engaged to 
 the cousin that Jean mentions, since they travel 
 sther: I have heard that long engagements are 
 quite common in England."
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. I 
 
 " La ! la ! this is the way with feminine imagi- 
 nations ; Mr. Pearce may be a determined bachelor, 
 for all we know of him ! " laughed M. Mold. 
 
 " There is something much more serious than 
 his being or not being engaged," thoughtfully con- 
 tinued Madame Mold. " I should not wonder if 
 he were a Protestant." 
 
 " Most likely he belongs to the religion of his 
 country; but he may be a very good Christian, 
 in spite of that," M. Mole" answered soothingly. 
 Although sincerely religious, he was much more 
 tolerant than his wife. 
 
 " It will be the first time in my life that I meet 
 with a Protestant," said Madame Mole", with deep 
 concern. 
 
 "You'll see that they are not such monsters 
 as you imagine them. When I was in Paris, be- 
 fore our marriage, I was intimate with two learned 
 professors of the Sorbonne, both of them Protes- 
 tants, and both very much loved and respected." 
 " Still, it will be very awkward." 
 " Not in the least. Nobody need mention relig- 
 ious matters ; and as regards our religious duties, 
 we shall fulfil them as usual," said M. Mole" with 
 great simplicity. 
 
 Breakfast beincr over now, Toinette came to clear 
 the table ; and as she piled up the plates and bowls, 
 she asked M. Mold, without the least trace of the 
 feigned timidity generally assumed by servants
 
 8 GOLDEN MEDIOCEITY. 
 
 speaking to their masters, " whether M. Jean was 
 thinking of coming back at last?" 
 
 " Yes, Toinette," kindly answered M. Mole" ; " he 
 will soon be here, to' give you plenty of work, as 
 usual." 
 
 "I am very glad all the same," said Toinette 
 with a frank smile. "He has always something 
 funny to say to make me laugh, and the house 
 seems so empty when he does not come to the 
 kitchen ten times in the day to ask for something 
 or to tease me. And I am proud of him too, for 
 there is not a finer young man in all Champignol, 
 no, nor in the country about either, as far as I can 
 see. On Fridays, when I go to market, I look at 
 all the country gentlemen coming to town in their 
 carriages : well, there is not one of them to look as 
 gay and as manly as our M. Jean, — no, not one of 
 them," concluded Toinette with great decision, as 
 she removed the cafetihre and pot-au-lait. 
 
 Now the perusal of the letter was resumed de- 
 murely. Jean, after explaining that lie had been 
 received with great kindness by Mrs. Pearce, and 
 that Pearce himself had been of great service on 
 many occasions, begged his mother to try to find 
 for them a small house with the necessary furni- 
 ture, a garden, and a view. " Tell Manian,"he said, 
 " that my friends are ready i<> rough if, but to rough 
 it a V anglaise, which is no equivalent for our d la 
 guerre comme <) hi gut err. They think they rough it
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 9 
 
 if they have no carpets on the floors and if their 
 knives and forks are not changed with each dish. 
 But there is one thing which may make matters 
 easy, — they are willing to pay three times as much 
 as any Frenchman would, ct sans marchander." 
 Then he went on to explain that Pearce's cousin, 
 Olive, was a very nice girl indeed, and he hoped 
 that she would soon be a friend to Helene. She 
 had now lived two years with Mrs. Pearce, her 
 father and mother being both dead, she spoke a 
 queer sort of French, but she could be understood. 
 As to Pearce himself, he was a well of learning 
 (un puits de science) ; he was fellow of his college, 
 keeper of a museum, lecturer on art, and critic, — 
 "a very good fellow when you know him as I do, 
 though somewhat chilly at first, according to our 
 French notions." Jean ended his letter by send- 
 ing lots of kisses to his father, mother, and sister, 
 un Ion souvenir a Toinette, and by expressing the 
 hope of being with them all in the course of a 
 fortnight at latest. 
 
 All the little household rejoiced at the welcome 
 news, and preparations began forthwith. The win- 
 dows of the pleasant room overlooking the garden 
 were thrown open, shaded by fresh muslin curtains ; 
 the floor was waxed and brushed till one could 
 hardly venture upon it without skates ; and every 
 atom of dust pursued mercilessly with the plumean 
 until it vanished. Helene renewed the flowers of
 
 10 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 the vases every day, although aware that her brother 
 was not coming yet to enjoy them, and even Ma- 
 dame Mold, so heedless of domestic cares in general, 
 came at last with lavender to scent the old chest- 
 of-drawers. But as she passed the door next to 
 that of her anxiously expected son, she paused 
 a while before the ever-closed chamber where the 
 other, the eldest, would never come again. The 
 tears came to her eyes, and with a slow, heavy 
 step she went to kneel under the crucifix of the 
 cheerful room and murmured : " Thy will be 
 done ! " Then she rose and laid her lavender in 
 the drawers. 
 
 It was twelve years since she had lost her first- 
 born, and the intensity of her grief was such that 
 she could not bear any allusion to him, even yet. 
 All that had belonged to him was shut in the dark 
 room that nobody ever opened. Till this terrible 
 bereavement Madame Mole had never known grief. 
 She was an only child, beloved, and indulged in 
 every wish ; she married early the only man who 
 had made her young heart beat faster, and that 
 man's greatest aim in life had been to make her 
 happy, to spare her in every possible way, to love 
 her so devotedly that in case grief came to her — 
 grief of such a nature that he could not shield her 
 from it — she, would find in his heart, if not con- 
 solation, at least support to enable her to bear it 
 with Christian resignation. But when the weight
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 11 
 
 of this terrible sorrow fell upon them both, she 
 seemed crushed by it beyond recovery. She could 
 neither eat, nor sleep, nor pray ; her love for her 
 other children, for her husband, was as if it had 
 never been ; her heart was turned to stone, except 
 where it could suffer. It was then that her hus- 
 band's infinite tenderness revealed its depth by 
 most delicate and constant care for her wants and 
 by its strengthening and soothing influence on her 
 mental state. 
 
 It was a long and tiring task to reconcile her 
 to life ; but lie succeeded, and thought himself 
 well rewarded. Still, their existence was forever 
 changed ; Madame Mole - lived, indeed, but she 
 did not forget, and her silent anguish could not be 
 relieved even by her piety, for she accused the re- 
 bellion of her heart against the laws of God. Her 
 husband vainly tried to persuade her that her grief 
 was not rebellious, but natural and hallowed ; she 
 knew that it was excessive, and still she could not 
 feel it less. Then a morbid fear of God's anger 
 possessed her soul : she looked upon her child's 
 death as a punishment for her sins, and tried to 
 atone by mortification and penance. She shunned 
 society, and spent more and more of her time in 
 church ; even in her own home she 1 often shut her- 
 self up to meditate and pray. She lasted fre- 
 quently, — too frequently for her feeble health, — 
 and in spite of her confessor's advice she even wore
 
 12 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 a knotted cord under her garments, and assumed a 
 monastic appearance which never entirely left her 
 afterwards. 
 
 During this great trial M. Mole" was admirable ; 
 he never complained that, in addition to his own 
 unspoken grief, all the comforts of his life had sud- 
 denly disappeared, that his home was turned into 
 a convent, and that he was left to dreary solitude. 
 He surmised that a change would be the most 
 powerful means of giving another direction to his 
 wife's thoughts, and he sacrificed without a murmur 
 all ambition for the future by sending in his resig- 
 nation as -profcsseur d'kistoire in Paris and . asking 
 to be sent to Champignol, his wife's birthplace ; 
 and this was no small sacrifice, for a brilliant 
 career and celebrity seemed open to his great 
 learning and popularity, due to the originality 
 of his views. His lectures were eagerly attended, 
 and the great men of the university treated him 
 as an equal. Still, he exchanged his envied post 
 and position against the chilling public indiffer- 
 ence of a small provincial town. 
 
 Madame Mold was not suited now for Parisian 
 life; society was odious to her; she needed calm 
 and rest: and these she would find at Champignol 
 in a pretty little house on tin; outskirts of the 
 town, almost in the country, where she had been 
 born, where she hud spent the first happy months 
 of her married life, and where she used to conic
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 13 
 
 for the vacations afterwards. This belonged to 
 Madame Mole - , now that her parents were dead ; 
 and the old furniture having been respectfully re- 
 tained, the house was almost ready to receive her 
 with her family. 
 
 So they came and settled at Champignol, and M. 
 Mole - anxiously watched for the effects of the 
 change upon his wife. The progress was slow, 
 but steady. She first consented to see the oldest 
 friends who sympathized with her, although they 
 did not express their sympathy, haviug been warned 
 by M. Mole - ; her interest in the common details 
 of life revived in the well-known, familiar house ; 
 her younger children were called again to her side ; 
 and gradually, very gradually, the ordinary course 
 of life was resumed. 
 
 A year after their arrival at Champignol, during 
 a short absence of her husband, she had sent the 
 children out with their bonne, Toinette, so as to be 
 alone ; then she gathered her courage and strength 
 to enter the room which had been Maxime's dur- 
 ing the vacations, and which still contained all 
 that had belonged to him. She did not say, even 
 to her husband, what her feelings had been during 
 the three long and lonely hours she spent there, 
 but she never had the courage to go again ; she 
 locked the door forever. 
 
 Jean was ten years old and Ilelene seven when 
 they came to stay at Champignol, and M. Mol<5 un-
 
 14 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 dertook his daughter's education, — which accounts 
 for the fact that she was infinitely superior, intel- 
 lectually, to most young ladies of her age. She 
 was the sunshine of her father's existence, with 
 her quiet cheerfulness and tender, though serious 
 expression of face. He was happy in his son too ; 
 but Jean, like all other hoys, had been obliged to 
 leave him for his studies. After three years spent 
 in a studio in Paris, he had gone to London to be- 
 come acquainted with English art, for he wished 
 to be an artist. His buoyant animal spirits had 
 never been damped by the depressing influence 
 of his mother, and Helene looked forward to his 
 return with real joy and happiness, for they were 
 very much attached to each other. Until Jean 
 reached his eighteenth year they had not been sep- 
 arated, the girl being educated at home and the 
 boy going to his college only a few hours daily. 
 M. Mold prepared young men for their examina- 
 tions and superintended his boy's studies at the 
 same time. 
 
 The house would have been melancholy enough 
 for HdK'iie without her brother's mirth and com- 
 pany; but with him she never realized that it was 
 not as bright and cheerful as it should have been 
 for children. They had much in common : they 
 drew and sang together; he helped her with her 
 lessons, and she taught him music. Moreover 
 there was a little fact that Jean had never forgot-
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 15 
 
 ten, and for which he had always been grateful to 
 his sister ; it was this : when he went to school 
 and made friends, he wished very much to invite 
 them to his house, but dared not, fearing that his 
 mother might not think of preparing the little 
 feast usually offered in such circumstances. Then 
 he did not like the idea of not entertaining his 
 friends as well as he had been entertained by 
 them. At last he confided his annoyance to his 
 sister. Hdlene immediately offered to take upon 
 herself the responsibility of providing and prepar- 
 ing what was thought necessary, and henceforth, 
 with the help of Toinette, there was always a nice 
 goUtcr, with cakes and custards, fruits or jellies, 
 when her brother's friends came to play with him. 
 This led to an important increase in M. Mold's 
 comforts ; because Hdlene's interest in household 
 matters once aroused, she soon perceived how neg- 
 lected they were, and tried to mend them. Her 
 mother's attention could only be momentarily 
 brought to bear on the necessaries of life by great 
 effort, and she soon allowed her daughter to be- 
 come the real housekeeper: it was an immense 
 relief to her not to have to think about details. 
 
 In this manner it happened that M. Mold's 
 house resumed in a few years the comforts and 
 charms of a well-kept home. Such was the state 
 of things when Jean wrote that he should soon 
 be back at ChampignoL He'lene was the real
 
 16 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 mistress of the house, in spite of her perfect defer- 
 ence towards her mother, whose slightest wish was 
 law to husband and children ; and in Champi- 
 gnol it was well known that Mademoiselle Mole', 
 though so young, 4tait unefemme decompile.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 17 
 
 II. 
 
 On a fine morning in the beginning of August 
 the rattling of the omnibus-wheels over the sharp 
 stones of the rue Ste.-Pacifique and the noise made 
 by the driver in cracking his whip caused the 
 inhabitants of the quiet-looking houses on both 
 sides to rush to their windows and to wonder 
 at the unaccustomed sight of several travellers 
 alighting at M. Mole's door. It was opened before 
 the omnibus reached the house, and on the door- 
 step stood Madame Mole* and Hedene, anxious to 
 catch a glimpse of Jean as soon as possible. With- 
 out waiting for the omnibus to stop, he had jumped 
 out, and was still kissing his mother and sister alter- 
 nately, when Mrs. Pearce entered the court-yard, 
 led by M. Mole, who had been to meet her at the 
 station, and followed by her son and niece. 
 
 The feeling of astonishment was great on the 
 side of the ladies at each other's appearance, and 
 their good-breeding was scarcely sufficient to hide 
 it entirely. Homely little Madame Mold could 
 hardly believe that the shining ladies standing 
 before her were the tired travellers she had been 
 
 2
 
 18 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 expecting; fans, scent-bottles, aumdnikres hanging 
 at their sides from silver chains, bracelets dangling 
 about their wrists, and elaborately trimmed cos- 
 tumes, were the upsetting of all her ideas of a toilette 
 de voyage. On the other side, the English ladies 
 experienced a shock of bewilderment when M. 
 Mole" introduced as " ma femme " the little lady 
 in the plain monastic gray garb. However, the 
 uneasy feeling was soon disguised under polite- 
 ness, and laughter came to the rescue when the 
 English ladies attempted to speak French, and 
 when the host and hostess declared that they did 
 not speak English at all. 
 
 During the inevitable confusion ensuing, it be- 
 came Pearce's turn to be surprised at the sight 
 of Jean heartily kissing Toinette on both cheeks 
 in the court-yard. 
 
 " La ! Monsieur Jean," she exclaimed, crying 
 and laughing at the same time, " I declare you 
 are still the same in your ways, although so much 
 altered. Mais, ma foil I should not have known 
 you again if you had not kissed me in the old 
 fashion, for you are as ugly as a bear, with all 
 those hairs bristling about your face. Quel dom- 
 mage ! you used to be so handsome before." 
 
 At which Jean, turning towards Pearce, said to 
 him: " What will become of me now that the only 
 woman who ever thought me handsome tells me 
 to my f;u:e that I am ugly ? "
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 19 
 
 Pearce evidently thought it all very strange; 
 and leaving Jean to shake hands with Mathieu, 
 the gardener, he followed Monsieur and Madame 
 Mold into the house. 
 
 The visitors had been shown into the salon, a 
 large, cheerful room with a lofty ceiling crossed 
 by heavy oak beams in their natural state, and 
 two glass doors opening into the garden and act- 
 ing as frames to the beautiful and not distant hills 
 rising boldly towards the deep blue sky. Some 
 magnificent old chestnut-trees formed an open 
 semicircle at the end of the garden so as not to 
 interfere with the extensive view. 
 
 The floor was of polished oak ; the long and dim- 
 med looking-glass over the mantelpiece was sur- 
 rounded by carved wood painted a light gray like 
 the narrow folding-doors, each surmounted by 
 faded pictures of doves and flowers in oval gray 
 panels. The seats belonged to the same style of 
 decoration, and there was a subtle and pleasant 
 harmony in the weak tones of the old tapestry 
 and those of the faded panels. Two slender and 
 graceful consoles with white marble tops and 
 twisted gilt legs were all that remained of the old 
 time ; the modern was represented by an excellent 
 Pleyel piano, an immense book-case, with oak 
 columns, entirely filling up one side of the room 
 from the floor to the ceiling, and a square carved 
 oak table covered with books, reviews, and work-
 
 20 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 baskets of different sizes. Why and by whom had 
 the plaster, which must have covered the beams 
 when the salon had been decorated in the Louis 
 XV. style, been removed ? M. Mold did not 
 know ; but the alteration was certainly a happy 
 one, because it enabled the eye to go from the 
 dark and heavy pieces of furniture to the dark and 
 heavy beams above without surprise or repulsion ; 
 and, strange to say, this heterogeneous promis- 
 cuity of sombre and light colors, of slender and 
 massive forms, of styles so far apart, produced 
 a singularly pleasant impression, to which Mrs. 
 Pearee was not insensible, for she exclaimed, " Oh, 
 combien jole* ! " as soon as she entered. 
 
 Olive was admiring the view and Helene was 
 naming the hills to her. The girls seemed pleased 
 to be together, and tried to get on, in spite of their 
 difficulty with each other's language; but when 
 -lean came towards them, Olive suddenly stopped 
 short in her French sentence and said, laughing: 
 " Now, M. Jean, you will have to act as interpre- 
 ter, as I should not dare to speak French before 
 you." 
 
 " And why ? " 
 
 " Because you would laugh at me; I know you 
 are very sarcastic." 
 
 "Now, this is very hard upon mo; And may 
 I ask when I have so misbehaved as to laugh at 
 your French ?"
 
 GOLDEX MEDIOCRITY. 21 
 
 "Well, I don't mean to say that you laughed 
 openly; but your suppressed smile whenever I ask 
 for anything from the railway people since our 
 arrival in France is ten times worse, I can assure 
 you." 
 
 " Then I promise solemnly never to suppress 
 my smiles any more. But pray how are you to 
 make Helene understand you when I chance to be 
 present ? and I mean to be present as much as 
 possible." 
 
 " This is just to tease us ! But I remember now 
 that you told me your sister understood English, 
 though she did not speak it ; therefore I can talk 
 to her in my own language, and she will reply in 
 hers : it will be most amusing." 
 
 " Yes," said Helene ; " but please use the simplest 
 words, and speak very slowly. I am not accus- 
 tomed to the intonations." 
 
 " You are baffled ! " cried Olive exultingly as she 
 passed before Jean to go up-stairs, after being in- 
 vited to take off her hat. Her aunt also followed 
 Madame Mole to her room; but the difficulty of 
 coining to an understanding was greater for the 
 ladies than for the girls, Madame Mole* being 
 totally unacquainted with the English tongue, 
 while Mrs. Pearce's French was so fanciful in 
 construction and so unexpected in pronunciation 
 that her meaning was seldom clear. The ladies 
 however contrived to look as if they understood
 
 22 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 each other thoroughly during the short time that 
 they were alone, and hastened to meet again the 
 gentlemen in the salon. 
 
 Very soon the door was thrown open by Toinette 
 in a capacious white apron and frilled coiffc, to an- 
 nounce "Madame est servie;" then they all went 
 into the dining-room, where a dejetcner-d-la-fov/r- 
 ehette was served. 
 
 Helene sat near Fearce, and simply expressed 
 her regret not to be able to speak English ; he re- 
 plied that it did not much matter with him, because 
 he had long been accustomed to French, and in- 
 deed he spoke it with imperturbable assurance. 
 As he was asking a second time for "croquettes 
 de pommes-de-terre," he remarked, " C'est une 
 delicacie !" 
 
 " I beg pardon, Monsieur," answered Toinette, 
 offering him the dish, " they are called croquettes." 
 
 Jean and Helene avoided looking at each other, 
 and immediately began to be deeply interested in 
 the contents of their plates ; but they were reserved 
 for a more serious trial when Mrs. Pearce, encour- 
 aged by her previous attempts, began the story of 
 their voyage across the Channel 
 
 "Kong nous quittong," she began resolutely; 
 then she paused to correct herself, — "quittiong." 
 Not being quite certain, she began again: "Kong 
 nous quittaames." But having to put all the fol- 
 lowing verbs to the same tense was formidable;
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 23 
 
 it was better to start again on a surer ground: 
 " Kong nous avong quitteV' By this time she was 
 so bewildered with all her corrections that she re- 
 peated several times, " quittong, quittiong, quitteV' 
 without arriving at a decision ; at last she went on 
 recklessly, for fear of stopping again : " Kong nous 
 avong quitted il fait beaucoup de vin, oh! beau- 
 coup." 
 
 " C'est vrai, Madame," said Jean, coming to her 
 help as soon as he could trust himself, " et vous 
 avez ndanmoins 6t6 tres brave." 
 
 " Oh, oui !" she answered, much relieved by this 
 timely help; but she did not resume her nar- 
 rative. 
 
 Once dejeuner over, they went into the garden, 
 where coffee was waiting for them. The gentlemen 
 lighted their cigars and strolled about ; the English 
 ladies, unaccustomed to the great heat of a French 
 afternoon in August, fanned themselves languidly, 
 and were glad to sit in the shade, in the open air. 
 They were under a charmillc, open at the top, where 
 the sky of lapis-lazuli could be seen. The tray, 
 with its dainty cups of Sevres porcelain and tiny 
 liqueur-glasses, occupied the middle of the white 
 stone table. The fragrance of most delicious Mocha 
 brought back the two young men. Jean stopped 
 at some distance from the opening in the eharmille 
 and called his friend's attention to the pretty pic- 
 ture inside it.
 
 24 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " It would just suit an impressioniste" said 
 Pearce. 
 
 " I am only impressionnahle" laughed Jean ; " but 
 it suits me just as well. Now, Helene," lie went 
 on, " I see, or rather smell, that you have not for- 
 gotten how to make the best coffee that I ever 
 tasted in my life ; hasten to give us a cup, for I 
 have been deprived of it for nearly a year." 
 
 "Oh, dear!" exclaimed Madame Mole', "why 
 did you deprive yourself of such an innocent 
 luxury ? " 
 
 " Merely because Helene had spoilt me." 
 
 " And because he dares not say that English wo- 
 men don't know the art of making coffee," added 
 Pearce. 
 
 " Why ! you take yours every morning, and never 
 complain," replied his mother with astonishment. 
 
 "Yes, I take mine every morning, and every 
 morning I think it is the vilest beverage that one 
 could swallow, except, perhaps, cocoa ; as to com- 
 plaining, what would it avail ? Nobody knows 
 where the fault lies. . . . This is indeed deli- 
 cious," he added, addressing Hdlene, "and I per- 
 fectly understand your brother's regrets when lie 
 was deprived of it. I shall have my regrets too 
 when I go away." He was looking at her intently 
 as he said this, and she felt slightly embarrassed. 
 The fact is that Pearce had just discovered that his 
 friend's sister was handsome, and he felt elated by
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 25 
 
 his discovery. At first sight he had not given 
 much attention to her. According to her custom, 
 she was neatly but simply dressed, and the mod- 
 esty which made her keep in the background had 
 not attracted his notice; but now that she was the 
 only one standing, to pour out the cafe, her grace- 
 ful form was relieved by the dark-green foliage 
 behind her, and he remarked that she was tall and 
 dignified, like her father. He admired the thick 
 auburn tresses coiled in a somewhat antique fash- 
 ion about the small head, the large, quiet, deep- 
 gray eyes, and the youthful but firm lines of her 
 lips, and he wondered that he had not thought her 
 a beauty from the first moment that he saw 
 her. 
 
 Unconscious of his reflections, his cousin had 
 promptly offered to learn to make coffee that he 
 would like. "Mademoiselle Hedene will be so 
 kind as to teach me, I hope," she said. 
 
 "Ah! but I don't know whether even this do- 
 mestic talent would set you up in Pearce's esteem," 
 remarked Jean, with a slight touch of sarcasm ; 
 "it might take you away from more profitable 
 studies, you know." 
 
 "Oh! during the vacations — " pleaded Olive, 
 looking at her cousin. "You don't expect me to 
 work much now, do you ? " 
 
 " I never expect you to work more than you can 
 help," he answered somewhat dryly.
 
 26 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 She looked grieved, but not hurt. 
 
 " Well, Miss Olive," said M. Mote, " since your 
 cousin is so terribly earnest about work, allow me 
 to provide you with a defensive weapon when he 
 attacks you on this point; repeat, after a very 
 clever Frenchman, that le temps le micux employe 
 est eclui que Von perd." 
 
 " I am sure I should like to believe it," said Mrs. 
 Pearce, " particularly just now, when it seems so 
 hard to leave your pleasant company to be harassed 
 by domestic cares ; but it 's already getting late in 
 the afternoon, and we have to set up our tent for 
 the night — I mean to get acquainted with our 
 quarters. Oh, dear ! I am so frightened at the idea 
 of housekeeping in a foreign country." 
 
 " I think you will find it very simple and easy," 
 answered Hdlene ; " and if I can be of any use I 
 shall be most happy." 
 
 " Oh ! Aunt, it will be such fun ! I long to 
 begin." 
 
 "Then in order to begin we must take leave. 
 But pray, M. Mold, how are we to get there ? " 
 
 " I shall drive you to the place, if you '11 allow 
 me. Jean, tell Mathieu to harness lioussotte. There 
 will be room for us all in the break, as the lug:_ r 
 has been sent forward, and I think lldlcne would 
 like to show you over the place." 
 
 " Do come, it will be delightful ! " said Olive in 
 her pretty, coaxing way.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 27 
 
 " And you too, pray, Madame Mold," said Mrs. 
 Pearce. 
 
 With a melancholy shake of the head Madame 
 Mole - declined. 
 
 " Maman never goes anywhere and never accepts 
 an invitation," gravely explained Helene while she 
 led the ladies towards the house to put on their 
 bonnets. 
 
 They were too well bred to express any surprise, 
 still they exchanged a rapid look of wonder. 
 
 The break being now ready in the court-yard, 
 Jean went to pat indiscriminately the nose of 
 Eoussotte and the head of the small boy who held 
 her. " How are you now, my old Eoussotte ? " he 
 said caressingly ; " getting gray, hey ? We '11 soon 
 be obliged to change your name and call you Grise, 
 if you don't mind! . . . And you, Cadet, — what ! 
 so much grown since last year ? Do you mean to 
 become a tambour-major ?" 
 
 " Oh, non, Monsieur Jean ! " the small boy an- 
 swered bashfully, but evidently proud of his young 
 master's notice. " I am now your father's servant, 
 under Madame Toinette." 
 
 " Ah, bah ! " Jean burst out laughing, " there is 
 no end to our extravagance ; two male servants ! " 
 with this he jumped into the break and offered to 
 drive. 
 
 " No, no ! " said his father ; " I am accustomed to 
 put up with the slow pace of Eoussotte, as I take
 
 28 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 her eighteen years into consideration, and I don't 
 think you would agree very well together." 
 
 They felt somewhat tight in the little break, but 
 they just managed to sit in it. Mathieu's sabots 
 clattered on the small sharp stones of the court- 
 yard as he opened the doors, and Cadet let go 
 lioussotte, who, in spite of her age, set off at a brisk 
 trot and once again brought to their windows the 
 inhabitants of the rue Ste.-Pacifique.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 29 
 
 III. 
 
 It was but a twenty minutes' drive from M. 
 Mole"s house to the one which Mrs. Pearce was to 
 occupy, and which, being detached from the town, 
 possessed a name of its own and was called "La 
 Saulaie," on account of a fine group of willows 
 whose unusual height rendered them visible over 
 the top of the roof at a considerable distance; 
 their remarkable growth was due to a stream 
 which made a little pool at their roots before it 
 glided away in a narrow ribbon around part of 
 the garden. 
 
 Olive was delighted to think that their abode 
 would not be distinguished from the others by a 
 mere number ; and then the name " La Saulaie 
 sounds so poetical ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 Margot, the servant-girl engaged by Helene for 
 Mrs. Pearce, had prepared some cakes and white 
 wine in the petit salon for her unknown unstress's 
 arrival, and she hastened to get some deliriously 
 cool water, with the remark that "Ces messieurs 
 et ces dames devaient avoir bien soif par eette cha- 
 leur." Mrs. Pearce hardly knew what to say to
 
 30 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 her, but she was pleased by her neat appearance 
 and look of healthy cheerfulness. 
 
 La Saulaie was rather a large house for its 
 present tenants, and very well furnished. It had 
 been built by a rich gentleman of Champignol for 
 his own use, and not with the intention of letting 
 it. He had now been dead two years, and his 
 widow had gone to live in Paris during the time 
 of her children's education. She had no \v T ish to let 
 La Saulaie, where she intended to come back some 
 time ; but as M. Mold was a very intimate friend 
 of hers, and seemed desirous of securing a comfort- 
 able habitation for his son's acquaintances, she gra- 
 ciously consented to the proposed arrangement, by 
 which the English tenants had the use of every- 
 thing in the house, down to plate and linen. The 
 gardener left in charge of the place offered to make 
 himself useful whenever he was needed : this he 
 did at M. Mold's request, out of gratitude for the 
 situation, which he owed to him. 
 
 The garden burned with the rich colors of the 
 flower-beds under a dazzling sun just in front of 
 the house, while plenty of shade could be had at 
 the back in the jardin anglais. The whole was 
 kept in perfect order, as the mistress might come 
 at any time ; and during her absence the gardener 
 was allowed to sell the fruit and vegetables. He 
 offered to supply Mrs. Pearee with what she would 
 think necessary in garden-produce. But the lady
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 31 
 
 answered that she had no intention of troubling 
 herself with these details ; her son would make an 
 arrangement with an hotel-keeper, and their meals 
 would be sent to them regularly : it was far sim- 
 pler; she only wanted the liberty of making 
 bouquets. 
 
 Hedene, who had been accustomed to practise 
 economy, was astounded at what seemed to her 
 reckless extravagance. " Money must be of no con- 
 sequence to them," she thought ; she had expected 
 that Margot would do the cooking. As she rapidly 
 reckoned what this plan*would cost, she could not 
 help attempting to modify it, and suggested that 
 perhaps it would be agreeable to Mrs. Pearce to 
 have her own supply of wine sent from a wine- 
 merchant, as it would be better and cheaper than 
 what she would get from an hotel. 
 
 " Oil ! yes, that would be very nice indeed ; it 
 would save a vast amount of trouble. But how was 
 she to set about it ? " 
 
 M. Mold offered to take Pearce to his own wine- 
 merchant, and this offer was accepted. 
 
 After they had visited all the rooms in the 
 house, and Mrs. Pearce had expressed her entire 
 satisfaction, llelene remarked that they had not 
 seen the kitchen ; there they all went, and Olive 
 was enraptured at the sight of the row of bright 
 brass pans, and was particularly interested by the 
 tiled charcoal fowneau. "Oh! how amusing if
 
 32 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 must be to cook over these tiny holes," she ex- 
 claimed ; " and what funny shapes and contriv- 
 ances ! I wonder what they are all for ? " 
 
 " I shall tell you another time," answered He*- 
 lene ; " it is too late to-day. Besides, I am afraid 
 of overtasking the gentlemen's patience." 
 
 " Oh ! I can be very patient in a tidy kitchen 
 with pretty young ladies ; the fact of their pres- 
 ence generally indicates that something will be 
 the necessary result. And I give my thorough 
 approbation to sweets, — do you, Pearce ? " Jean 
 inquired. 
 
 " Of course no meal is complete without sweets," 
 Pearce answered seriously ; " but cooks are equal 
 to their preparation. My enjoyment of ladies' 
 society would be rather in the salon than in the 
 kitchen." 
 
 " Your opinions may be good enough for a critic, 
 but they are nevertheless anti-artistic," retorted 
 Jean with great glee and a side-look to Olive; 
 "you are nothing of a gourmet if your palate is 
 not sensitive enough to distinguish the matter-of- 
 fact entremets of the paid cook from that expressly 
 prepared by the delicate hands and refined percep- 
 tion of a pretty lady for your own delectation." 
 " A pretty lady like Toiuette ! " laughed M. Mold. 
 
 "()li! Toinette is so for ;ibove ordinary cooks 
 lint she no longer belongs to the confraternity; 
 why, Toinette is an artist!"
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 33 
 
 " What a gourmand you are ! " exclaimed Olive ; 
 " I had never suspected it till now." 
 
 " You see he could not indulge himself iu Ene- 
 land," said Pearce ; " our young ladies had some- 
 thing else to do, it appears, than prepare sweets 
 for his delectation." 
 
 " They might employ their time in a worse 
 manner; for instance, in studying philosophy. 
 Come, come away, Hdlene ; I don't want him to 
 spoil you with his transcendental theories ! " and 
 Jean hurried his sister into the garden. 
 
 It was now time to leave Mrs. Pearce to her 
 own devices, and she seemed somewhat fretful at 
 the prospect ; it was, however, decided that she 
 should soon call upon Madame Mold, and the girls 
 planned to see each other as often as possible, 
 after which they separated. 
 
 Although the novelty of the sensations experi- 
 enced that day by Mrs. Pearce, her son, and Olive 
 had been very agreeable, they felt somewhat jaded, 
 and a little rest was welcome. They went to the 
 salon, where each of them chose an easy-chair, 
 sank in it, and with shut eyes remained silent for 
 some time. Soon, however, Olive exclaimed : 
 " What a dear old gentleman is M. Mold ! " 
 
 " Charming ! " answered her aunt; " what affable 
 manners ! . . . But how strange his wife is, and 
 what deference he shows towards her! I thought 
 it quite touching to sec his tall frame bent to the 
 
 3
 
 34 GOLDEN MEDIOCEITY. 
 
 little lady, as in protection, when lie addressed her; 
 and then the tenderness of his tones ! . . . How 
 very curious that she never accepts an invitation ! 
 . . . Her daughter must lead a very retired life ; 
 still, she is perfectly lady-like." 
 
 " I suppose she has to go through a deal of 
 domestic drudgery, judging from what we saw ; it 
 looks very much as if they kept only one maid 
 for everything inside the house. In that case you 
 would not find much interest in Mademoiselle 
 Hdlene's society, Olive ; her acquisitions cannot 
 be very extensive," said Pearce. 
 
 " Her brother has told me that she was one of 
 the best-educated girls he had ever known," an- 
 swered Olive. 
 
 " According to his French notions, perhaps. 
 Frenchmen differ greatly from us on the question 
 of female education ; they think women know 
 quite enough when they can make up an account 
 and write a decent letter. "What they ask from 
 them is to keep the house comfortable, in spend- 
 ing as little money as possible ; while Ave want to 
 raise women to our own intellectual level, to be 
 able to associate with them on a footing of equal- 
 ity. We want them to become in the future our 
 friends and companions: you see the difference. 
 A married Frenchman spends almost all his lei- 
 sure%ime in the cafes, never minding if his wife 
 is alone, because in his cafe he will find well-in-
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 35 
 
 formed men to talk to, while at home he has only 
 a sort of superior servant to keep him company." 
 
 " It is horrible ! " cried the girl in great indig- 
 nation ; " how can Frenchwomen put up with such 
 treatment ? " 
 
 " It is the custom of their country, and there- 
 fore they don't imagine anything else. Even in 
 England, where men are naturally domestic, they 
 too often find it extremely difficult to stay at 
 home, for want of interest, when their womenkind 
 are either frivolous or ignorant. Our task is a 
 difficult one. When the ladies are old there is no 
 remedy, and we must resign ourselves ; when 
 they are young, if we try to help them on towards 
 knowledge they consider us as bores, or else make 
 their feeble attempts in so lazy and disconnected 
 a manner that we are necessarily discouraged, and 
 have to give it up." 
 
 " But," pleaded Olive in a humble tone, " are 
 not women in general less fitted for intellectual 
 efforts than men ? I am sure I feel seriously de- 
 sirous of acquiring as much learning, under your 
 direction, as I am capable of, and I try my best to 
 fix my attention when I study, and I try to be in- 
 terested too ; but I can't for long." 
 
 "There is the evil! you fancy you can't. Then 
 you must learn to discipline your mind and your 
 taste." 
 
 " I shall try," she answered submissively.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 "Oh, dear!" yawned Mrs. Pearce, awakening 
 
 from a short doze with a little start, " it must be 
 
 ting almost dinner-time, and nothing is ready ; 
 
 and I do so want a cup of tea! . . . You must 
 
 need your tea too, Olive ?" 
 
 "I think I should like a cup very much; shall 
 I try to make some, aunt ? We have brought a 
 tinful in one of the hags, and I daresay Margot 
 could boil some water for us." 
 
 "Yes, see wind you can do, dear. Meanwhile, 
 Henry, you had better go and order our dinner at 
 some hot 1: perhaps you'll get a cup of tea on 
 youi return." 
 
 Pearce went away, and Olive managed to ex- 
 plain to Margot that she wished to have some 
 boiling water to make ten. "Ah!" said Margot, 
 with a look of dcrj) concern, "Madame is unwell, 
 since she wants sa tisane (/< the; no wonder, after 
 ■ I much !" 
 
 Very soon the water boiled over the red lumps 
 of charcoal, and when Pearce came hack from his 
 errand la- was cheered by the familiar sight of the 
 tray, which Olive had unpacked, together with 
 the elegant Bilver service. The tea itself was 
 praised and enjoyed to the very last drops; after 
 which Mr-. Pearce, wishing the table to be cleared, 
 valiantly ordered Margot "de de*porter le cabaret." 
 Luckily hi ire helped the girl to understand 
 
 meaning, and Bhe wa - obeyed.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCEITY. 37 
 
 From this day they began a " Frenchified exist- 
 ence/' as Mrs. Pearce said, and they found the 
 change exceedingly refreshing. The difficulties 
 anticipated did not turn out very formidable, as 
 Olive really knew French very well, although she 
 spoke it with a peculiar pronunciation, thought so 
 very pretty by Madame Mold that this lady said 
 it was a pity to correct it, as Olive would never 
 afterwards speak as charmingly as she now 
 did. 
 
 Pearce was often out with M. Mold, who showed 
 him the public library aud musec, of which he was 
 the keeper. The young man's respect for the 
 older one was rapidly growing as day by day he 
 discovered in him more learning, more interest in 
 science than he had ever dreamed of finding in any 
 one so modest and unassuming. His disinterested 
 love of study, of intellectual labor, made him ac- 
 complish an enormous amount of work ; for be- 
 sides what Pearce called the " drudgery " of his life, 
 though not such to him, who took a lively interesi 
 in it, — his lessons at the college and to his private 
 pupils, — he was a member of several soci4t& scien- 
 tifiqueSyarchAologigues^hotaniques, etc., and an active 
 member too, pursuing researches, making discov- 
 eries, sending or reading papers. His correspon- 
 dence was also a heavy one, as he answered many 
 queries and widely used his influence to augment 
 the importance of the public library and musee
 
 38 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 which he had called into existence with so much 
 resolution and perseverance. Then his extreme 
 human kindness and ready sympathy led him to 
 provide help of different kinds for whomsoever 
 asked for it, and many applied because it was 
 known that he generally succeeded in finding 
 what would suit them. There was not a young 
 man leaving the college of Champignol for higher 
 studies in Paris who did not come to ask M. Mole" 
 for a recommendation to his future professors, or 
 for advice to obtain access to sources of informa- 
 tion reserved as privileges. 
 
 Pearce Mas soon aware of all this, because he 
 went almost every day to see Jean, and frequently 
 found him in his father's cabinet reading, while 
 M. Mole* was at work. The conversation would 
 naturally fall on the work begun, because they all 
 took an interest in it, though in different degrees; 
 for instance, the artistic department of the m,us4e 
 often embarrassed the keeper, as he knew more 
 of science than of art. In such cases -lean ami 
 
 Pearce were of real use. When a picture orstatu- 
 ette was offered either for sale or as a gift, M. 
 Mole* did not always feel certain of its artistic 
 value, and lie asked for Pearce's opinion with the 
 utmost simplicity. They often took long walks in 
 or about the ou1 kirts of Champignol, and Lt was 
 delightful i" hear M. Mel/' talk about its history. 
 I !•■ knew the olde I annals of '.lie place, he had
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 39 
 
 studied every stone of the monuments, and was 
 acquainted with all their transformations. 
 
 Champignol is an old fortified town, once of 
 great importance, built on the summit of a hill, 
 whose declivity is now covered with luxuriant 
 gardens where the ramparts used to frown ; it is 
 so steep and on so many different levels that wind- 
 ing paths are the only means of communication 
 between the upper and lower part, unless one has 
 both the time and will to go the whole round by 
 the main road. M. Mold was perfectly intimate 
 with every one of these narrow ways, with their 
 stone steps to insure a firmer footing in the steep- 
 est parts; and he liked to lead his guest to the 
 most picturesque places and to point out the many 
 towers which still remained, like forsaken sentries, 
 watching over the safety of the town. The con- 
 trast between the grim wall of the ancient fortifi- 
 cations and the white cheerful buildings on the 
 slopes of the sunny gardens was not to be im- 
 agined, it must be seen ; and Pearce went over and 
 over again, now for archaeological study with .A I. 
 Mold, now for artistic enjoyment with Jean, who 
 was never tired of sketching the various effects of 
 light and shade over the wonderful landscape. 
 
 One day Pearce arrived in the morning at M. 
 Mold's, intending to have a long walk with Jean : 
 but to his disappointment Toinette told him that 
 "Monsieur Jean with Mademoiselle had gone
 
 40 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 away very early, each carrying a color-box ; and that 
 was a sign that they would not come back soon." 
 
 " Does Mademoiselle Hedene paint, then ? " 
 asked Pearce, incredulously. 
 
 " Paint ! . . . I should think she does, and beau- 
 tifully too ! " cried Toinette with great emphasis, 
 suspecting a sort of snub in the dubious tone, and 
 resenting it accordingly. " I can tell all the names 
 of the flowers whose portraits she paints, just as 
 if I saw them in the fields; and when there is a 
 loteric dc charit/, Monseigneur 1 always begs Ma- 
 demoiselle to send a piece of her painted pottery 
 to be exhibited along with the lots given by the 
 pr(fet and ddpntSs." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! " smiled Pearce, very much 
 amused by the warmth of Toinette's enthusiasm. 
 Then he inquired where he was likely to hud 
 Jean, his intention being to walk as far, in order 
 to come back with him. Toinette's hesitation in 
 giving an answer struck him as entirely foreign 
 to her usual readiness; she. looked embarrassed, 
 and replied thai she was not certain of their 
 whereabouts. After a, short pause she looked at 
 Pearce steadfastly, saying : " Fou understood, Mon- 
 Bieur, that Mademoiselle is with her brother '. " 
 
 "Yes, I understood that very well," replied 
 Pearce, very much astonished by her manner; 
 "what of thai 
 
 1 The bi bop.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 41 
 
 " I forgot to tell Monsieur that neither her 
 father nor mother was with Mademoiselle." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Pearce, abashed by Toinette's dig- 
 nity, " I see. . . . Good morning ; I shall call an- 
 other day ; " and as he went away he thought, not 
 without a little sense of mortification, that a ser- 
 vant had given him a lesson. " How absurd 
 these French customs are, not to allow a fellow to 
 meet a girl except in the presence of her parents !" 
 he murmured to himself. " Still, I should have 
 reflected that I was putting her in a false position 
 if we had come back together ; perhaps they '11 
 think I go too frequently soon, and that Toinette 
 would not mind giving me a hint, I believe. . . . 
 How curious is the position of French servants in 
 some cases ! . . . I think they are allowed too 
 much liberty ; it may be disagreeable sometimes." 
 But in his inmost heart the vexation about Toi- 
 nette was not half so oreat as against the rules 
 which she had recalled to his mind, and which for- 
 bade him to enjoy as often as he wished the sight 
 and company of a girl in whom he felt a growing 
 interest.
 
 ll! GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 IV. 
 
 There exists at some distance from Champignol 
 a remarkable chateau belonging to Monsieur le 
 Marquis Hector cle Civray de Champignol, de- 
 scribed at great length in the " guides," which no 
 tourist travelling in that part of France leaves 
 unvisited. Mrs. Pearce having learned that the 
 proprietor graciously allowed those visits at any 
 lime and without any special permission, asked 
 M. Mole* for the best means of getting there. He 
 answered that he could drive her so far, and that 
 they would be shown even the private apartments 
 of the family : the sister of the present Marquis 
 had been his pupil, and the intercourse was still 
 kept up. 
 
 The great historical house de Civray de Cham- 
 pignol was paying now a heavy price for its 
 princely splendor. For the Lasl three generations 
 there had been from time to time anion- the heirs 
 some victims of marriages between near rela- 
 tion-. At. first the scourge Beemed undecided in 
 its capricious choice. It fell once upon the first- 
 born, a girl, and she was lather deaf; the second 
 
 child escaped; bul the third was completely deaf.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 43 
 
 The same calamity attended the following genera- 
 tion, increasing in severity. Out of nine children 
 born of this marriage four died quite young, three 
 were idiots, the youngest girl alone had no infirm- 
 ity, while the heir was deaf and dumb. He was 
 father to the present Marquis and died early, 
 leaving to his widow the almost overpowering 
 responsibility of bringing up a family of seven 
 children, all deaf and dumb except the heir, to- 
 gether with the management of one of the largest 
 landed estates in France. M. Mold had been of 
 great service to her in several circumstances after 
 the death of the late Marquis. He had provided 
 tutors and governesses from the deaf-and-dumb 
 asylum in Paris; lie had undertaken the all but 
 hopeless task of calling back the memory which the 
 present Marquis had lost after a severe attack of 
 typhoid fever, by gently teaching him over and 
 over again the rudiments of the education lie had 
 once possessed. The memory came back gradu- 
 ally; but the clear, brilliant intelligence remained 
 clouded forever. Xot that the Marquis Hector de 
 Civray was an idiot, or anything like one. He had 
 great common-sense, together with an average cul- 
 ture ; but how different was this mental state from 
 the remarkable intellectual powers which had made 
 him come out third from the examination for the 
 Fxole Polytechnique ! And the saddest part of 
 his sad story lies in the consciousness of his
 
 44 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 irremediable inferiority to his proud position as 
 representative of the great house de Civray de 
 Champignol. His bodily strength had also been 
 much weakened, and at twenty-eight he looked 
 as if he were thirty-five. 
 
 All this was told by M. Mole" to Mrs. Pearce 
 and her son so that there should be no expression 
 of surprise if they happened to meet with any 
 member of the stricken family during their visit 
 at the castle. 
 
 It was decided that Mrs. Pearce, her son and 
 niece would go together with M. Mold, Jean, and 
 Hdlene, Madame Mold remaining at home as 
 usual. Accordingly, they started early on a fine 
 morning, with provisions for a picnic in the box; 
 and they all felt very merry, in spite of the melan- 
 choly fate of the family whose abode they were 
 going to see. 
 
 The ride was lovely, — along forests veiled by 
 the thin transparent mist rising from the many 
 rivulets like a gilt and crimson gauze; now on 
 rapidly rising ground above a small plain of given 
 pastures like a calm emerald lake, then between 
 lofty walla of granite rock, with their rose and 
 gray lichens blooming quietly under the re- 
 freshing summer springs; down again by the 
 clear river babbling over the moss-covered sto] 
 
 SOOll hushed again in the sleepy, shady [tools be- 
 loved of t he kingfisher.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 45 
 
 When they came to a steep rising, the young 
 people jumped down to relieve Eoussotte, and 
 laughed and chatted joyously till they came to a 
 level, when they resumed their seats. 
 
 At ten, sundry complaints about hunger began 
 to be made; they were repeated with increased 
 emphasis at short intervals, and half an hour later 
 it was unanimously agreed to seek out a dry and 
 sheltered place in which to lunch comfortably. It 
 was soon found, just at the foot of the eminence to 
 which the embattled towers of the chateau formed 
 a gigantic crown, in the style of those binding the 
 brows of statues personating fortified towns. 
 
 A space of short, thick velvety grass on the 
 other side of the river, away from the road and 
 sheltered by clumps of fine chestnut-trees, was 
 declared particularly suitable for the object in 
 view. Eoussotte was quickly taken out of harness, 
 and immediately went splashing to the midst of 
 the stream, where she thought the water most in- 
 viting. The baskets were taken out of the box, 
 their contents were spread upon the cloth softly 
 laid upon the grass, while the wine-bottles cooled 
 in the shallows. 
 
 They made a merry party, with their healthy 
 appetites sharpened by a short fast and their ken 
 enjoyment of whatever was enjoyable. At first the 
 young people ate ravenously, remaining speechli ss 
 for some time ; but gradually, their hunger being
 
 46 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 appeased, they talked as much as before, though in 
 a somewhat disconnected manner, now telling an 
 anecdote, now making a passing remark. 
 
 "Helene!" called out Jean, "I hope we are to 
 have some coffee. . . . Not that I think of myself, 
 Miss Olive ; my anxiety is for the ladies." 
 
 " Of course we ought to be very much obliged," 
 laughed Olive ; " only we don't put implicit faith 
 in your declaration. What if we were not to 
 allow you a cup ? " 
 
 " I should say it was decidedly ungrateful, as I 
 was the mover of the motion." 
 
 Helene, with the help of Pearce, had set fire to 
 the spirit-lamp which was to boil the water. It 
 had seemed to her for some time past that the 
 course of her ordinary life was altered, she did not 
 know why; but to-day the feeling was stronger 
 than ever. She became aware of I'earce's pleasure 
 in her presence, not by his words, but by always 
 finding him at her .side, by his readiness to share 
 in anything that she did, by his endeavors to 
 lead her into conversations which might reveal 
 in her her tastes or ideas. Sim was beginning to 
 be flattered by his attentions, because he was gen- 
 erally sparing of such. She felt not only happy, 
 but elated to-day, — a sensation she seldom ex- 
 perienced, her usual mood being quiet cheerfulness. 
 Was ii because Pearce's face was animated by an 
 unwonted expression of pleasure ? because there
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 47 
 
 shone in his eyes a spark of unsuspected tender- 
 ness when they rested upon her ? 
 
 " I say, Hdlene," began her brother, after remain- 
 ing silent a while, " I have not heard your voice 
 since I came back. Suppose you were to sing 
 something to beguile the weary time of suspense 
 till coffee is ready." 
 
 " Oh, do ! " cried Olive, clapping her hands ; 
 " music is the only thing we now want." 
 
 Then Hdlene began to sing, quite simply and 
 naturally, as a bird does, the lovely "Chanson de 
 Fortunio : " — 
 
 " Si vous croyez que je vais dire 
 Qui j'ose aimer, 
 Je lie saurais pour un empire 
 Vous la uoramer. 
 
 " Nous allons chanter a la ronde, 
 Si vous voulez, 
 Que je 1'adore et qu'elle est blonde 
 Comme les bles. 
 
 " Je fais ce que sa fantaisie 
 Veut m'ordonner, 
 Et je puis, s'il lui faut ma vie, 
 La lui donner. 
 
 " Du mal qu'une amour ignoree 
 Nous fait souffrir 
 J'emporte Fame dechirde 
 Jusqu'a mourir. 
 
 " Mais j'aime trop pour que je die 
 Qui j'ose aimer, 
 Et je veux mourir pour ma mie 
 Sans la nomnier."
 
 48 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 The mellow, sympathetic voice, the charm of 
 the interpretation, moved all the listeners. 
 
 " What a talent you have ! " exclaimed Pearce, 
 unable to control his admiration, "and what an 
 exquisite song this is ! " 
 
 " Yes," echoed Mrs. Pearce, though totally inca- 
 pable of understanding French poetry; "it's very 
 pretty indeed, very." 
 
 Suddenly Jean, who had thrown himself at full 
 length on the grass, to listen at ease, rose up and 
 said iu an undertone: "Look sharp! there is 
 another amateur of music not far off; I saw his 
 legs, if not his face, which he hides behind the 
 branches of a tree." 
 
 All the eyes were immediately in search of the 
 intruder, and he very likely became aware that 
 he was discovered, for he began to move rapidly 
 towards the river. He was (all and spare, dressed 
 in light gray linen garments, and was carrying a 
 fishing-rod. 
 
 "It is the Marquis de Civray," said M. Mole\ 
 as the gentleman drew near; "Jean, you must go 
 and offer your respects.'' 
 
 They both went towards the Marquis, leaving 
 their friends a lew paces back; and to Mrs. 
 Pearce's surprise she saw M. Hector de Civray 
 shaking hands rather warmly villi M. Mole* ami 
 saying a few words of welcome to .lean on his 
 return. He inquired after Madame .Mole's health
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 49 
 
 and sent her his compliments. Then he made a 
 few steps which brought him quite near the group 
 of friends, to whom he bowed slightly, and turned 
 to Hedene, who had risen to meet him. 
 
 " Mademoiselle," he said, " I will not miss the 
 opportunity of conveying to you my sister's com- 
 plaints about the rarity of your visits ; she lately 
 thought of writing to you. You know that your 
 company is greatly valued. Have you any mes- 
 sage for her ? " 
 
 " Tell Mademoiselle Irene that I shall go to see 
 her as soon as possible. My time has been very 
 much taken up lately; but I shall explain. And 
 pray, Monsieur, do not forget to give her my love." 
 She curtseyed ; the Marquis bowed low and went 
 away to his fishing. 
 
 It may be said that from that moment Hdlene 
 rose infinitely in the estimation of her English 
 friends. She was on speaking terms with a Mar- 
 quis, claimed affectionately by his sister, pressed 
 to come to the chateau ! . . . the daughter of a 
 simple college-master ! It was bewildering. Even 
 Pearce was deeply impressed by this short scene, 
 and was by no means proof against the influence 
 of the Marquis's marked politeness to He'lene. 
 When she returned, perfectly unconscious that 
 anything unusual had happened, she had acquired 
 an importance which changed her in their eyes, or 
 at least opened them. Pearce saw in a moment 
 
 4
 
 50 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 how much of self-possession and quiet dignity she 
 had, and his mother discovered that her carriage 
 was really aristocratic. As to Olive, she was as- 
 tounded at her friend's calm demeanor in the pres- 
 ence of a marquis, — not even a blush had come 
 over her face ! 
 
 " I think it 's time we should be going up," said 
 M. Mold, " if you wish to see the grounds and 
 park, which are very extensive." 
 
 So they took their coffee and packed the things 
 in the baskets. Roussotte was quickly harnessed, 
 and M. Mole" and Mrs. Pearce were soon seated in 
 the carriage; the young people boasted of arriving 
 first, and preferred to walk. 
 
 Olive and Jean led the way ; they did not mind 
 the heat, and were almost running. 
 
 " I know a place among the rocks," Jean had 
 told her, " where the prettiest little pink flowers 
 bloom ; shall I show them to you ?" 
 
 " By all means ! " 
 
 "We must hasten, then, because it's not just 
 on the road, but by the side of it, above the river. 
 . . . Is not this better than a walk in muddy 
 London to go and attend a lecture on geometry, 
 eh! Miss Olive?" 
 
 "I am ashamed to say I enjoy it infinitely 
 more." 
 
 "Don't l)e ashamed, Pearce can't hear youj 
 perhaps lie is talking geometry to Helene."
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 51 
 
 " You should not sneer at my cousin like that, 
 M. Jean ; you know that he is working hard 
 himself, and that his culture is serious and 
 deep," remonstrated Olive, shaking her pretty 
 bead. 
 
 " Sneer ? Oh, no ! I only laugh, and generally 
 to his face. But you should not turn against me 
 because I try sometimes to protect you ; he is too 
 exacting. Does he mean to make a doctor of you, 
 or to send you to Girton ? " 
 
 " I believe he would be satisfied if I could dis- 
 tinguish myself somehow ; but I feel that I have 
 no particular gifts, and am therefore destined to 
 disappoint him. I am very sorry, very ; in spite 
 of all the trouble he takes with me, I shall never 
 become a learned woman." The girl's humility 
 was irresistibly winning ; Jean stopped and looked 
 tenderly in her innocent eyes. 
 
 "And do you think it is absolutely necessary 
 to be a learned woman to make other people 
 happy ? " he asked. 
 
 " Perhaps not ; but I know that my cousin will 
 never love an ordinary woman," she answered, 
 without thinking of the meaning which might be 
 attached to her words. 
 
 Jean was aware of a chill passing over his 
 heart, and lie shuddered slightly. He walked in 
 silence after that and more slowly, until Olive, 
 surprised not to hear his merry voice for so many
 
 52 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 minutes, quickly turned round and noticed that 
 a great change had come over his face. "Are vou 
 poorly ? " she asked anxiously. 
 
 " Oh, no ! I was only reflecting about what you 
 have told me, and how right you are to admire 
 Pearce ; few are like him ! " 
 
 " Few indeed ! Think what a position Henry 
 occupies in literature and art at his age ; he is 
 only thirty, and steadily rising." 
 
 " Yes ; it 's a iine thing. . . . Are you ambitious, 
 Miss Olive?" 
 
 " Ambitious in what way ? Of money or posi- 
 tion ? . . . I have very little ambition for either, I 
 assure you." 
 
 They now turned from the road, and after walk- 
 ing a few seconds under the trees they came to an 
 open space overhanging the river, where the pinks 
 had chosen to bloom in the dazzling, unshaded 
 light of the long summer days. The grass did not 
 grow in this line, sandy soil ; it was like a cloth of 
 gold embroidered with satin flowers for the dance 
 of the water-nymphs when they rise in the night 
 upon the river-mist. 
 
 "How little one expects to find such a place as 
 this from the road," said ( Hive. 
 
 Jean was silently gathering a bouquet of the 
 small pink flowers, which he gave her. 
 
 "I shall keep them," she said, as she put them 
 in her hat; "they will be a soiwenir of my pleas-
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 53 
 
 ant visit to France, and the sight of them will 
 always recall to me this most pleasant day." 
 
 " Will yon think of the donor too ?" 
 
 " Of course ; I am not likely to forget any of 
 those associated with this charming excursion. . . . 
 But I hear Henry's voice; he has overtaken us." 
 Then she dashed under the trees and emerged 
 triumphant upon the road, holding her hat with 
 the flowers in it to show thein to her cousin. 
 
 " Do you know who is my milliner ? " she asked. 
 
 " It 's Jean," answered Hedene ; " he always had 
 a particular love for these millets, and used to 
 come and gather some for Maman sometimes. I 
 wondered what had become of you both." 
 
 Jean was thinking how differently tilings had 
 turned out from what lie had fondly anticipated. 
 He had intended to offer at the same time his 
 heart and his flowers, and had ventured to hope 
 that neither of them would be rejected. He had 
 planned to take Olive to the lonely, pretty spot 
 and to tell her that he meant to love her always 
 as he did to-day, if he were allowed. Perhaps 
 she would be a little surprised, and would require 
 time to know her own heart; perhaps she would 
 put his love to the test and talk of a long en- 
 gagement. Oh ! he could accept that, or anything, 
 — they were so young! . . . And instead of the 
 pretty scenes he had rehearsed in his mind, there 
 had been for him a great disenchantment. Invol-
 
 54 GOLDEN MEDIOCKITY. 
 
 untarily, artlessly, she had shivered all his hopes 
 (thank God ! before they were expressed) by the 
 innocent expression of her love for her cousin. 
 Well ! it was a hard blow ; but he would try to 
 recover. 
 
 Meanwhile Pearce had questioned Hdlene about 
 her acquaintance with Mademoiselle de Civray. 
 " How did it come to pass ? . . . Was she not deaf 
 and dumb ? . . . How did they manage to get 
 oii ? " 
 
 " Oh ! it was very simple. When the Marquis 
 recovered from his illness it was sometimes im- 
 possible for M. Mold to go regularly to the chateau 
 to give him lessons. Then M. de Civray came soi- 
 disant on business, — for his loss of memory was 
 kept secret from the public; and it happened that 
 not infrequently he brought his sister with him 
 for a change, and although the girls could not 
 speak to each other, they played together. When 
 there was a difficulty or misunderstanding, they 
 explained it upon a slate; hut Irene was so in- 
 telligent that they rarely had recourse to writing." 
 Moreover, M. Mold had suggested to Belene that it 
 would be a great kindness if she Learned the deaf- 
 and-dumb alphabet from the governess, because 
 her means of communication with her friend 
 would be so much more perfect. She agreed to 
 do so, and Irene was delighted ; now their conver- 
 sation was very rapid when they were alone, but
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 55 
 
 she felt bewildered if any of Irene's sisters or 
 brothers were present. However, her friend was 
 glad enough to have her entirely to herself when 
 she went, and prevented intrusions. 
 
 " How very generous it was of you to go through 
 such a task ! " said Pearce, moved to admiration. 
 
 " It amused me very much at the same time, I 
 assure you. Children always like to imitate others; 
 and if I had to struggle sometimes against a diffi- 
 culty, I was amply rewarded by the affectionate 
 gratitude which was shown to me, even by Ma- 
 dame la Marquise." 
 
 The boast of the young people was now real- 
 ized ; they stood at the gates of the chateau before 
 Roussotte. She was not far behind, however, and 
 soon made her appearance. A servant took her to 
 the stables when Mrs. Pearce and M. Mole' had 
 alighted from the carriage. 
 
 From the entrance to the park they had a very 
 good view of the chateau, — indeed, it can be seen 
 all round, standing as it does upon an eminence 
 just sufficient for the building, which is consider- 
 able. From the outer walls the grounds slope 
 immediately in rapid declivities, interrupted here 
 and there by a flat, level space where the waters 
 congregate and form several ponds. 
 
 Mrs. Pearce remarked the analogy of the archi- 
 tecture, and even of the stone, with that of some 
 old towers in the North of England ; she was also
 
 56 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 very much interested by the mosaics of the floors 
 and by the old tapestries, but especially by the 
 private apartments. In the salon she was struck 
 by the quantity of works in different stages of 
 completion, — embroidery, crochet, knitting in satin 
 or straw baskets, or lying upon the tables and 
 chairs; drawings in pencil and charcoal; books 
 kept open by heavy ivory knives ; desks spread 
 with notes ready for copy : every indication of 
 an unusually industrious household. It was evi- 
 dent that a consolation for the want of human 
 intercourse had been largely sought in the pursuit 
 of the fine arts, as well as in literature, for the 
 library was immense. 
 
 The silence which reigned throughout the cha- 
 teau, in spite of its numerous dwellers, both mas- 
 ters and servants, seemed almost painful to the 
 visitors, as if it were felt, like Egyptian darkness. 
 The contrast of so much splendor with so much 
 misery weighed upon their imagination like a 
 nightmare, till they became a prey to the weird 
 sensation of being in an enchanted castle when 
 they were shown several skulls brought forth out 
 of the oubliettes by one of the late marquises. 
 
 The existence >>f these oubliettes had been denied ; 
 
 but the Marquis had seen them mentioned in the 
 
 chronicles of Civray, and alter several years of 
 useless research he discovered a sort of well in- 
 side one of the towers used as donjon, lint the
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 57 
 
 well had been walled up. Big holes were open in 
 the masonry, and revealed the existence of long 
 knives, or blades, stretching from the sides towards 
 the interior, at different heights and alternate posi- 
 tions, leaving no doubt as to the fiendish use of 
 the well. The Marquis "after this discovery re- 
 solved to ascertain whether any poor victims had 
 really been thrown into the oubliettes. He con- 
 trived by the aid of an architect to have an open- 
 ing made in the ground below, from which he was 
 let down by a rope (cautiously, for fear of some 
 hidden knife) to the very bottom of the well. He 
 reached it safely, for the blades were no longer 
 inserted after a certain depth ; the murderous work 
 would be achieved before the victim had passed 
 the last. When the Marquis was brought up 
 again, unconscious, his hand tightly clutched a 
 human skull. 
 
 " Oh ! aunt, let us go out," murmured Olive ; 
 " I do so want to breathe a little fresh air after 
 this." 
 
 In the several courts between the towers they 
 noticed a croquet-ground, a target, and a tennis- 
 lawn, and were again painfully reminded of the 
 owner's infirmity by the thought that all tf 
 games might be played in silence. But how dif- 
 ferent were their own mirthful associations with 
 the same objects ! 
 
 It was pleasant after this to go and see the
 
 58 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 hoary chestnuts of the park, with their long 
 branches stretching out till they met the neigh- 
 boring ones and formed grand and lofty avenues, 
 impenetrable to the sun, under which the young 
 people played at hide-and-seek in the empty 
 trunks of the oldest trees. They continued, un- 
 mindful of the hour, until Mrs. Pearce seriously 
 declared it was high time they should go ; indeed 
 it was already so late that they did not reach 
 Champignol before the sun had set. 
 
 " Dear me ! " Mrs. Pearce exclaimed suddenly, 
 " we have not given any orders about our dinner. 
 What shall we do ? " 
 
 " Never mind ! " answered her son ; " I shall 
 just go to the hotel and tell them to send any- 
 thing that may be ready." 
 
 " If the prospect of a poor supper does not 
 frighten you too' much, Mrs. Pearce, will you share 
 ours, whatever it is ?" simply said M. Mold. 
 
 "A la fortune du pot ! " added Jean. 
 
 "Oh! I could not think of such a thing at 
 such a time; and Madame Mold unwarned too!" 
 
 " Maman will be very glad, I am sure," said 
 Helene; "and she might get anxious if we went 
 first to your house to leave you there, for she must 
 be wondering what lias become of us." 
 
 "Well, if T were sun' that it would be no 
 trouble, I should certainly hi' delighted." 
 
 " It \s settled then, Mrs. Pearce. Sidney, my
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 59 
 
 good fellow, you '11 have to tighten your belt some- 
 what; to-day. the case stands thus: quand il y en 
 a pour quatre, il y en a pour sept. Don't get too 
 melancholy over the prospect, however; I shall 
 use all my influence over Toinette to obtain an 
 omelette aux truffles as she alone can make one." 
 
 They soon arrived. HeTene quickly busied her- 
 self about the welfare of her guests. Olive begged 
 to be allowed to help, and followed her friend 
 into the kitchen, where she found Jean coaxing 
 Toinette for the sake of the famous omelette. 
 
 " I tell you, M. Jean, that it is not the proper 
 thing ; an omelette does very well for a dejeuner, 
 but it never was served at a dinner, — and to 
 English people besides ! . . . What would they 
 think of me ? . . . " 
 
 " They would think, if you made it as delicious 
 as you generally do, that you are the best cook in 
 the world ! . . . And moreover you might call it 
 an entree, you know." 
 
 " And would you allow me to see you make it, 
 Madame Toinette ? " asked Olive, in her pleasant 
 voice; " it would be such a good opportunity for 
 me to learn." 
 
 "At your service, Mademoiselle," answered 
 Toinette, flattered, and already beginning to cut 
 the desired truffles into slices. " I never could 
 refuse M. Jean anything; you see he has such 
 winsome ways. . . . Only, M. Jean, you must be
 
 60 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 off; I should not be sure of tossing my omelette 
 properly if you stood by. . . . And, I say, be 
 quick, now, and fetch a bottle of Beaune to drink 
 with it ; you know it \s necessary, and I have not 
 time." 
 
 Olive was quite amused by Toinette's informal 
 manners and deeply interested by her culinary 
 skill. 
 
 In less than a quarter of an hour, HeMene hav- 
 ing laid the cover and prepared dessert while 
 Toinette was making the necessary additions to 
 the dinner, they were all seated round Madame 
 Mold's table discussing the merits of the omelette, 
 and Mrs. Pearce had become so far "Frenchified" 
 by this time that she told Toinette : " Je vous tieng 
 pour un veritable cordong bloo ; " at which Toinette 
 courtesied her acknowledgments. 
 
 They separated late ; and witli her good-night 
 Mrs. Pearce thanked heartily M. Mole* for the 
 charming excursion they had all so much enjoyed. 
 . . . All except poor Jean, who was beginning to 
 think lie ought to wean himself in future from 
 such dangerous pleasures.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 61 
 
 V. 
 
 Events soon brought Jean a very good excuse 
 for not going so frequently to La Saulaie ; but per- 
 haps he was not very thankful for it. A very old 
 friend of his, a young engineer, had written to 
 say that, having come back from the Cape, and 
 being free from engagements for some time, he 
 would be delighted to spend a few days with Jean 
 if his intended visit did not interfere with other 
 plans. 
 
 The news was received with almost equal 
 pleasure by M. and Madame Mole - , for Maxime 
 Ledoyen had always been a great favorite with 
 them both. They first knew him when his widow- 
 mother brought him to the college of Champignol 
 with a scholarship, and when kind M. Mold re- 
 marked how the poor boy nestled close to the 
 lady in mourning in the parlor, rather than go 
 and amuse himself with the other young fellows 
 during recreation-time. Then when the bell rang 
 for the separation the child's grief culminated 
 in silent agony; he clasped his mother's hands 
 desperately, stilling his sobs, and she had to
 
 62 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 disengage herself, trembling and feeling as if her 
 heart would break. 
 
 M. Mold's sympathy was gratefully accepted by 
 the poor widow, who soon told him all her trou- 
 bles : they were heavy. She was the wife of an 
 employe de ministhre, and they had not been able 
 to economize much, for they were obliged to live 
 in Paris, where everything is so dear. Her hus- 
 band died before he had a right to a pension, and 
 the only thing she had asked from the Government 
 was the means of continuing her son's education. 
 The request had been granted ; but, alas ! Maxime 
 was sent to Champignol, and she was obliged to 
 live in Paris, where she earned enough to support 
 herself by painting on porcelain. Her boy had 
 never been separated from her. He was sensitive 
 and delicate, and used to work at home under his 
 father's supervision ; he followed the cours of the 
 nearest lycee. And now he had come to a strange 
 place among unknown people, and he was to be 
 left without a friend ! 
 
 "No, not without a friend," replied M. Mold 
 with his usual kindness. " I will be a friend and 
 a protector to him, and Jean, my son, will take 
 his part against the other boys if necessary." In 
 this manner he contrived to soothe the fears of 
 Madame Ledoyen and to reconcile her to the in- 
 evitable separation. Meanwhile he invited her 
 and Maxime to his house, and the two boys liked
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 63 
 
 each other from the first, although the difference 
 in age and disposition was very great indeed. 
 Jean was then a little over ten years old, and al- 
 ready as tall as Maxime, who was thirteen. Jean 
 was strong, merry, and very ready with his fists ; 
 never a day passed without his having fought at 
 least a few rounds, — not infrequently with his 
 best friends. Maxime was weak and retiring, 
 gentle and adverse to all kinds of wrangling, mel- 
 ancholy and quiet. But at the same time he pos- 
 sessed a refinement and an elegance to which the 
 younger boy was not insensible, and which seemed 
 to set him up over the others. Then he came 
 from Paris, it was a sort of confraternity ; and at 
 the lycee both were soon called " les Parisiens," 
 and they were, proud of it. 
 
 Madame Mold, although living at that time in 
 close retirement, was touched by the sorrow of 
 another mother, and consented to receive her. 
 Their common bereavement and sadness drew 
 them together, and they remained fast friends for- 
 ever after. 
 
 The means of Madame Ledoyen did not allow 
 her to stay long at Champignol ; but when she was 
 obliged to leave, it was not with the feeling of 
 despair that she had dreaded : her son would be 
 affectionately watched over and cared for ; lie 
 would spend the holidays out of school. His 
 sensitive heart need not constantly shrink from
 
 64 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 the cold, indifferent surroundings, but might ex- 
 pand into love and gratitude. "When she was 
 gone, a regular correspondence was established 
 between her and M. Mold, and when the long va- 
 cations were at an end, and she brought back 
 Maxime to Champignol, she stayed a fortnight 
 with his wife. 
 
 The friendship grew closer and closer year by 
 year ; Maxime's intelligence and power of appli- 
 cation surprised and interested all his masters. 
 His will was concentrated upon one goal, and his 
 will was very strong ; he meant to work as hard 
 as he could bear, to be fit for the mining-school as 
 soon as possible. Then he would live again with 
 his mother and contrive to help her. 
 
 He did not fail in the programme he had made 
 for himself, and when a student at the mining- 
 school he found means of earning sufficient (by 
 giving lessons to less-advanced pupils) to make 
 his mother's life and his own comfortable. From 
 that time Madame Ledoyen gave up painting for 
 money, and the small income she received from 
 her dowry, securely invested in ( rovernment shares, 
 together with the price of Maxime's lessons, was 
 turned to the best account by her strict economy 
 and clever management. 
 
 As soon as Maxime left scl 1 be was appointed 
 
 to a lucrative post on the warm recommendation 
 of his professors, and care and anxiety were ban-
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 65 
 
 ished from his mother's house. They took nice 
 rooms (rather high) in one of the boulevards. 
 Maxime had a simple but convenient cabinet for 
 his work, and he was able to give his mother the 
 long-deferred luxury of a maid-servant ; hitherto 
 she had managed with the help of the concierge 
 and an occasional charwoman. 
 
 How delighted were mother and son to enter- 
 tain Jean from time to time when he came to 
 Paris, and what a fete when M. Mold and Helene 
 visited them a little later ! 
 
 Since then Maxime had undertaken several long 
 journeys and voyages : the last had been to the 
 Cape, and he was still absent when Jean came 
 from England ; but now, after a short taste of 
 home, he longed to be with his friends again. 
 
 Jean having scolded him for writing instead of 
 coming directly, he was at Champignol two days 
 afterwards, and very much amused by the ex- 
 clamations upon his altered appearance. " How 
 much grown ! " said M. Mole' ; " you seem to have 
 gained as much in strength as in height ! " Still 
 Maxime hardly reached M. Mold's shoulder. 
 
 " And what a fine color ! " added Jean ; " as black 
 as Othello ! . . . He is glorious ! I must paint 
 his portrait." 
 
 " Nay ! . . ." Toinette put in indignantly, after 
 courtesy ing to Maxime; "I am sure Monsieur 
 Maxime would rather wait till his skin grows
 
 66 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 clear again. And it will when this has peeled 
 off, for I do not remember a fairer-skinned boy 
 than he was formerly, — though with as much 
 color as an egg-shell, I must say." 
 
 " So you recognize me still, Madame Toinette ? " 
 said Maxime in his low, harmonious voice. " It 's 
 very kind of you, and I have not forgotten you 
 either, as you will see. I have brought you a lit- 
 tle souvenir from Japan, — a pair of long silver 
 pins for your coiffc." 
 
 " Oh ! it 's really too kind of you, Monsieur 
 Maxime, to have thought of your old Toinette 
 when you were in such outlandish places ! . . . 
 But you and Monsieur Jean are just twins for 
 kind-heartedness, — though I never saw you laugh 
 at one as he does." Feeling her eyes somewhat 
 moist, Toinette wiped them vigorously with the 
 corner of her blue apron as she retreated to her 
 domain. 
 
 At the same moment Ildlene was coming for- 
 wards with both hands extended to meet Max- 
 ime's ; pleasure frankly beamed out of her eyes, 
 and her voice, though firm, was soft and almost 
 tender when she said : " It seems an age since wo 
 saw you last ; but we knew that you were well and 
 satisfied, and that made us wait more patiently 
 lor your return." 
 
 The sound of her voice alter an absence always 
 moved him so deeply that his own became slightly
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 67 
 
 tremulous, iu spite of all his efforts to steady it, 
 when he answered : " But I did not, could not 
 wait patiently. I had to bear the separation from 
 all that I loved, and of course I bore it, — but not 
 patiently." 
 
 "Naturally the pain is greater for the one who 
 goes away alone, among strange faces and strange 
 scenes, than it is for those who remain with their 
 friends, in the midst of old associations and cus- 
 toms. Still, I think your mother was hardly 
 more patient than yourself, — how happy she 
 must be now ! " 
 
 " But see how little exacting she is ! She almost 
 sent me here, so soon after my return. . . . She 
 knew that I longed to see you all again." 
 
 " Madame Ledoyen knows how to love," replied 
 M. Mole' : " she promotes the happiness of those 
 dear to her, even at the cost of self-sacrifice ; and 
 that is the best way." 
 
 Soon Madame Mold came back from Mass, 
 which she attended every morning; and when her 
 greeting was over she requested Maxime to give 
 an account of his voyages. It was an opportunity 
 for offering some valuable Japanese bronzes and 
 Chinese vases which he had picked up at very 
 little cost, he said, in his wanderings. As he went 
 about a great deal during the six months of his 
 stay, eager to see and learn as much as possible, 
 he had met with capital bargains, and had brought
 
 68 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 enough to begin a small museum. If things went 
 on well, he hoped to keep the whole of his pur- 
 chases ; if not, as the selection had been carefully 
 made, he would be able to realize a good profit out 
 of the sale, and the money would have been well 
 invested. 
 
 M. Mole" (as Maximo, who knew him well, had 
 foreseen) was delighted at the prospect of increas- 
 ing the importance of his musee by the addition 
 of some curious specimens of Chinese and Japa- 
 nese art. Pearce was astounded when he heard a 
 man in M. Mold's situation talk of giving away 
 such valuable property ; he even remonstrated, and 
 said that the objects might be lent, on condition 
 of their being returned after a certain time. 
 
 "No," said M. Mold with his usual calm sim- 
 plicity, "I do not wish them to be returned, 
 even to my children ; for them I do what I ought. 
 But there are other duties than paternal duties. 
 I owe something to Champignol, my native place, 
 and I am happy to contribute to raising it ever 
 so little above its present level. And I owe an 
 example to my fellow-citizens; I should be almost 
 ashamed to be always asking for gifts from others, 
 were I not ready to sacrifice something to general 
 culture." 
 
 When Pearce told this to his mother she 
 answered that she really could not make out what 
 M. Mold's pecuniary position might be. From
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. G9 
 
 his exceedingly simple habits, from the absence of 
 luxury in his house, she thought he barely made 
 both ends meet ; and yet she had heard that he 
 had given away at least five thousand pounds to 
 the town, — part of it in subscriptions for found- 
 ing a hospital and for repairs to the cathedral 
 and for the musec, " Why," she continued, " one 
 would think that if he can throw away five 
 thousand pounds, lie could at least keep a maid 
 besides Toinette. With five thousand pounds he 
 could pay a maid's wages, and even two, for a 
 great many years. And then how much more 
 comfortable it would be for Hedene if she were rid 
 of menial work, how much more kongvenable ! . . . 
 Perhaps you don't know it, Henry, but one morn- 
 ing that I went very early with Olive and asked to 
 see Hedene, Toinette took us without more ado to 
 the drawing-room, where we found the daughter 
 of the house actually dusting the furniture, . . . 
 and I have no doubt she had swept the floor too!" 
 " Oh ! she does not feel ashamed of it, or wish 
 to disguise the fact," answered Olive; "she told 
 me herself that she always tidies her own room 
 and the salon, and that she often cooks and irons. 
 I fancy she is rather fond of household work, she 
 • lues it so cheerfully and neatly. How pretty she 
 looked that very morning in her pink cotton pei- 
 gnoir, with her beautiful hair rippling unbound in 
 a silk net! Do you remember, Aunt ?"
 
 70 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " Yes," answered Mrs. Pearce, watching her son, 
 " it looks very pretty, and I daresay very proper, 
 in France ; but think what would be the impression 
 experienced by any friend of your cousin if he 
 found you or me dusting or sweeping the drawing- 
 room when he called;" 
 
 " I know he would be terribly shocked," 
 laughed Olive. " And still," she continued more 
 seriously, " it 's very likely that I shall have to 
 do a great part of my house-work whenever I 
 have a house of my own ; but I know that my 
 duty towards polite society will compel me to talk 
 and look as if I were far above it. Don't you 
 think, Henry, that, after all, those pretences at 
 gentility are very mean, and that it is some- 
 what hard that we should be considered as la- 
 dies only on condition of remaining idle and 
 useless ? . . . " 
 
 " Ladies are allowed any amount of intellectual 
 work by society," replied Pearce sarcastically ; 
 " neither are they forbidden artistic pursuits, and, 
 generally speaking, these occupations seem quite 
 suflicient." 
 
 " You speak now of rich ladies ; but I want your 
 opinion about ladies without fortunes." 
 
 "They must strive to keep themselves by prac- 
 tising some kind of art, I should say, or by teach- 
 ing; it would be far better than becoming a 
 drudge."
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 71 
 
 "But one need not be a drudge, for all that! 
 Look at Helene, now, — would you call her a 
 drudge ? " 
 
 Pearce looked seriously annoyed. " Certainly 
 not," he answered at last, feeling his mother's eye 
 upon him ; " but I do think it a matter for 
 regret that her kind of life should not tend to 
 develop what is highest in her." 
 
 " Still, I can't help believing," pursued Olive 
 rather dreamily, and as if she spoke to herself, 
 " that a woman is fulfilling one of her most impor- 
 tant vocations when she makes life pleasanter to 
 those she loves, by her thoughtful care and exer- 
 tions." She felt that she blushed crimson at the 
 recollection of Jean having said to her once: " Do 
 you think it is absolutely necessary to be a learned 
 woman to make others happy ? " ... She had paid 
 little attention to the question when it was asked ; 
 but now, all of a sudden, she heard the tender 
 tone, she saw the eager look coupled with it, 
 then the inexplicable sadness following the an- 
 swer that her memory could not give back. And 
 since then the long intervals between his calls, — 
 did it mean anything ? . . . was he angry, or 
 grieved ? He was no doubt a little more ceremo- 
 nious than before, a little more formal, — hardly a 
 shade; and yet she was aware of a change. 
 
 Fearce had seen the blush, but attributed it 
 to the excitement of controversy. Hitherto, Olive
 
 72 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 had always accepted his opinions humbly, as the 
 best that could possibly be ; and now she expressed 
 opinions of her own, and opposed to his ! He was 
 very much irritated. " It's woman's most impor- 
 tant vocation, undoubtedly, when she is incapable 
 of anything else," he replied with the usual sar- 
 castic ring of voice which he used when he met 
 with opposition. 
 
 Why did Olive think it for the first time irri- 
 tating and disagreeable ? She did not remain 
 crushed by her cousin's sarcasm, however, as he 
 seemed fully to expect, but answered with a light 
 laugh : " You don't always act up to your theories, 
 then, for you seemed to appreciate Hedene's mean 
 domestic talents on the night of our drive to the 
 chateau, when she provided that excellent dinner 
 in no time with so little fuss. For my part, I 
 thought we were all enjoying ourselves. How pleas- 
 ant was the absence of all ceremony in that kind 
 of French life which allows you to invite your 
 friends at a moment's notice ! They may accept 
 with pleasure, knowing that they will not cause 
 either much trouble or expense; and the hosts, on 
 their part, are not prevented from enjoying their 
 friends' society by elaborate preparations." 
 
 " Still," interrupted Mrs. Pearce, " it 's rather a 
 nasty custom that they have of not changing one's 
 knife and fork as they change the dishes. I can't 
 be reconciled to it; every time I lay them up-
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 73 
 
 on my plate, as many times are they carefully 
 replaced on the table." 
 
 " Oh ! I don't much mind, as they change them 
 after fish always, and have dessert-covers ; but I 
 hope, Aunt, that this inconvenience will not pre- 
 vent you from coming to France again, like a gen- 
 tleman of M. Jean's acquaintance, who told him 
 he had been only once in Paris, and although very 
 much interested by what he had seen, would never 
 go again, because he could not help himself either 
 to salt or pepper, there being neither salt nor 
 pepper spoons at his hotel." 
 
 " At any rate, I think it 's high time I should 
 remove you to England," answered her Aunt with 
 a smile and a shake of her head ; " you are grow- 
 ing sadly Frenchified in your tastes and notions." 
 
 " Perhaps she intends writing a book in praise 
 of the patriarchal simplicity of the French 'petite 
 bourgeoisie; if it equals the lecture on English 
 snobbishness that she has just delivered, there is 
 no telling but she may become quite celebrated 
 some day," remarked Pearce, still sardonic. 
 
 " Then I shall dare to invite you to my conver- 
 sazioni, and you will deign to acknowledge me 
 as youiv cousin, perhaps? ..." replied Olive, 
 nothing daunted. 
 
 Mrs. Pearce was quite as much astonished as 
 her son at her niece's rebellious spirit. It made 
 her uncomfortable ; and she said with a little irri-
 
 74 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 tation : " Now what is the matter with you Loth ? 
 . . . Perhaps, Henry, you are somewhat too severe 
 at times. But, Olive, you should remember that it 
 is for your good ; and being a mere child yet, it 
 is your duty to submit to his superior wisdom." 
 
 This was what she had been accustomed to 
 hear since she lived with her aunt, and to believe. 
 Mrs. Pearce had the most profound respect for 
 her son's learning, achievements, and opinions ; 
 and this respect had developed into uncontrolled 
 admiration in the girl. Her cousin was invited 
 by the most celebrated artists of the day and 
 knew the greatest writers ; his verdicts were 
 quoted in influential reviews, and American news- 
 paper correspondents had sought him out to have 
 his impressions of the pictures for the next Acad- 
 emy exhibition. This was more than enough to 
 dazzle a girl of seventeen ; and Olive meekly hum- 
 bled herself and, like her aunt, worshipped the 
 superior man, — even believed that she loved him. 
 And she had tried, ashamed of her inferiority, to 
 reach a higher level ; she had worked hard, in spile 
 of languor and headaches, in order to please her 
 cousin, who wanted her to go to Grirton. But her 
 efforts had not disarmed his severity; lie never 
 had a word of encouragement to help her on; he 
 scorned her failures and accused her of levity. 
 "It was for her good," she had been taught to 
 think by her aunt. But for some time past her
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. (5 
 
 faith in Pearce's perfections had been repeatedly 
 shaken. She had discovered that superior men 
 were not always harsh to their womankind, how- 
 ever beneath their mental level they might be. 
 M. Mole", for instance, — what benignant, tender 
 ways he had with women in general, and with his 
 wife and daughter in particular; how kindly he 
 overlooked her aunt's mistakes: still, neither Ma- 
 dame Mold nor Mrs. Pearce could be said to pos- 
 sess remarkable intellects or acquirements. She had 
 noticed, also, that when he talked with people of 
 the lower class he was just as considerate as with 
 his equals. He did not look supercilious or bored 
 by their simple talk, but gave his unfeigned atten- 
 tion and interest to what they had to say; while 
 Pearce never troubled himself to keep up a subject 
 which did not interest him in particular. And 
 Jeau, whenever he spoke to his sister, did not 
 take patronizing airs with her, although every one 
 seemed to think that he would become a great 
 artist. And with herself, now that she thought of 
 it, he was just as talkative as with his sister, — not 
 quite so free, and with a shade of respect which 
 could but flatter. Decidedly, it must be more agree- 
 able to live between M. Mole* and Jean than with 
 her cousin, although they were not related to her. 
 With them she was not afraid of remaining under 
 what was expected; she might be herself, and 
 liked as she was.
 
 76 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 VI. 
 
 The arrival of Maxime was a serious cause of 
 vexation to Pearce in different ways : Jean did 
 not give him so much of his time ; M. and Ma- 
 dame Mote, and even Hdlene, seemed to take as 
 much interest in what the young engineer told 
 them of his voyages and adventures as they did in 
 Pearce's more refined conversation. But what hurt 
 him most was to hear Helene and Maxime call 
 each other by their Christian names, without the 
 formal monsieur and mademoiselle. Could they be 
 engaged ? . . . What a stupid supposition ! . . . 
 How could such a girl, fit to be a duchess, fall in 
 love with a nobody? . . . They seemed to make 
 much of him in the Mole family. He could not 
 account for it; he saw nothing remarkable in M. 
 Ledoyen. Perhaps the girl would lie sacrificed be- 
 fore she knew her own mind, according t<> French 
 custom ; what a pity ! . . . He had no doubt about 
 Maxime's love; his jealousy had quickly bus- 
 pected, and then detected it. So far, he was not 
 much troubled, he was so sure of his superior ad- 
 vantages. Helene had only to look at them both
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 77 
 
 to see the difference. Pearce was tall, strong, 
 handsome, and of proud hearing ; he was con- 
 scious of all these gifts, which he studiously 
 enhanced hy aristocratic manners. Maxime was 
 delicate-looking, pale, and reserved ; there was 
 absolutely nothing striking about him. In spite 
 of this reassuring conclusion, Pearce made up his 
 mind to ascertain, through Jean, if there was any- 
 thing in his suspicions. 
 
 So one morning he went early to M. Mold's to 
 find his friend before he had gone out to study 
 from nature. His plan was to go with Jean, to 
 lead the talk naturally to Maxime and his pros- 
 pects, and to learn as much as possible of what 
 interested him. 
 
 He arrived at eight o'clock, and was told that 
 the family were breakfasting ; being now very 
 intimate, he was shown into the dining-room. A 
 great surprise awaited him there, which imme- 
 diately turned the current of his jealousy into a 
 new channel. 
 
 By the side of Helene, who was acting the mis- 
 tress of the house while her mother heard Mass, sat 
 Monsieur le Marquis de Civray de Champignol ! . . . 
 There he was, receiving from her hand his cup of 
 coffee, and putting it down again on the oil- 
 cloth of the table, with as little concern as if he 
 had never been accustomed to a more luxurious 
 service. Pearce was astounded.
 
 78 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 M. Mold, begging his guest's pardon, rose from 
 the table to shake hands with the new-comer, 
 while the other persons bowed to him; then after 
 inquiring if he had breakfasted, and receiving an 
 affirmative answer, the master of the house re- 
 sumed his seat, and the simple meal went on 
 precisely as usual. Pearce remarked that nothing 
 had been added to it; there was nothing on the 
 table besides the bowls of milk, the coffee-pot, the 
 fresh butter and petits pains. 
 
 It appeared that the Marquis had come early to 
 town to consult M. Mole" about private affairs, and 
 had taken breakfast with the family, as was his 
 custom in such occurrences. Nobody thought it 
 strange, not even Maxime, who knew it of old. 15ut 
 it struck Pearce as unnatural ; he was aware at 
 the same time of the close observation bestowed 
 by the Marquis upon his person, and lie could not 
 help a feeling of uneasiness and vexation. 
 
 It is an awkward position to be in a dining- 
 room isolated from the table where others are tak- 
 ing their meal, and to feel that you are the centre 
 of all eyes and have nothing better to do than 
 twirl your hat in your hand or read your initials 
 inside Train's trial was, however, short, the 
 first breakfast being quickly over in Trance. Still, 
 he had time to observe with what extreme defer- 
 ence tiie Marquis acknowledged every little atten- 
 tion of his young hostess; his politeness towards
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 79 
 
 women retained something of the old courtly man- 
 ners of his race. His bows were neither abrupt 
 nor hurried, like those in fashion, and when he 
 took the hand of a lady he never shook it, but 
 merely pressed the finger-tips and bent over it 
 with peculiar haughty grace, as if returning thanks 
 for a slight favor. Pearce thought that there was 
 in his look an expression of melancholy and stern- 
 ness which forcibly recalled Philip the Second of 
 Spain. 
 
 Breakfast ended, the Marquis begged Helene to 
 play for him, if she were at liberty, after lie had 
 had his consultation with her father. She an- 
 swered that she would do it with pleasure, espe- 
 cially because Maxime had brought his violin, and 
 they had lately been practising some fine duets ; 
 then they separated. 
 
 "Does it not seem like old times," Helene 
 asked of Maxime after they had left the dining- 
 room and were walking in the garden, with Pearce 
 and Jean, " to see the Marquis drop in unexpect- 
 edly to breakfast and to hear him ask for music ? 
 . . . We have not seen much of him for a long 
 time past." 
 
 " I feel almost a schoolboy again. But he looks 
 worn; is he not better?" asked Maxime in a low 
 voice. 
 
 " He is not worse," answered Helene in the 
 same tone; " but Papa says that the consciousness
 
 80 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 of his state is so distressing to him as to be nearly 
 unendurable at times. ... It is very sad." 
 
 " Your father has a very beneficent influ- 
 ence over him," continued Maxim e ; " he generally 
 seemed cheered by his visits." 
 
 " Yes ; but life at the chateau is terribly depress- 
 ing. He does not invite company, because of his 
 brother and sisters ; and now . . . since his mal- 
 ady, he has given up travelling and visiting. . . . 
 Excuse me for a moment; 1 want to put the flow- 
 ers his sister sent me in the drawing-room vases 
 before he comes down." 
 
 Hdlene left the young men to their talk and 
 cigarettes, and went to make bouquets of the splen- 
 did roses and delicate grasses brought by the visi- 
 tor. She had just finished, and placed the slender 
 crystal cornets on the chimney-piece, when M. 
 Mold entered with the Marquis. 
 
 "Oh, Papa, conn >, and admire !" exclaimed Hd- 
 lene. "I think I never saw so many varieties of 
 roses before, and such lovely ones ! Please, Mon- 
 sieur, to offer my grateful thanks to Mademoiselle 
 Irene for her present. I will make several studies 
 from it." 
 
 "They are magnificent roses!" said M. Mold; 
 "I must call -lean to look at them," and lie went 
 out into the garden in search of his son. 
 
 " I am happy to see thai the flowers please you," 
 said the Mar<|uis to lldlene; "but their own
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCKITY. 81 
 
 beauty would be but little without the skill and 
 taste of your arrangement. I thought nothing of 
 them before your hands had lent their grace ; but 
 now I shall leave them reluctantly." 
 
 Before Helene had time to make an answer, the 
 three young men reappeared, marshalled by M. 
 Mole*, and were called upon to admire the flowers, 
 which they did unanimously ; but Pearce had not 
 failed to notice the heightened color of Hellene's 
 brow and the close proximity of the Marquis. 
 
 " What shall we play ? " asked Helene, address- 
 ing herself to Maxime. 
 
 " I think I remember that M. de Civray likes 
 classical music ; we might play Beethoven's Sep- 
 tuor." 
 
 " Yes, you are right ; I don't think I appreciate 
 any music above Beethoven's," replied the Mar- 
 quis, who sat a little beyond the piano, so as to 
 have a good view of the performer. M. Mold and 
 Pearce were on the other side of the room. 
 
 He'lene and Maxime played remarkably well 
 together. They understood music with one soul, 
 as it were, and gave it expression as with one in- 
 strument. Marmontel, who gave lessons to Helene 
 when she was in Paris, had taught her a thorough 
 honesty in the interpretation of the masters, the 
 disinterestedness of a subdued accompaniment 
 when the violin had to sing, and the clearness 
 and maestvia of the allegros. 
 
 6
 
 82 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 Under the influence of the music he so much 
 loved, the countenance of the Marquis visibly 
 altered ; the sadness of his face deepened and soft- 
 ened at the same time. He rested his head in 
 his hand and closed his eyes to concentrate the 
 whole of his sensations in hearing. 
 
 When the last note of the Septuor had died 
 away he sighed, and slowly opening his eyes, saw 
 Pearce standing by Hdleue and complimenting her 
 with well imitated enthusiasm. 
 
 " I declare you are quite an artist, quite ! . . . 
 I had no notion you possessed so many talents ; 
 you never played to us till to-day." 
 
 " Oh ! " answered Maxime, " we play occasion- 
 ally, but wc practise hard every day ; and if we 
 had more time together, I daresay we should be 
 able by and by to play creditably. . . . Really, 
 Hdlene, you have made remarkable progress for 
 the last two years." 
 
 " I am very glad to hear you say so," answered 
 Helene, with real pleasure, "because you are no 
 flatterer, and because you are not easily satisfied. 
 How do you manage, not only to keep up, but to 
 improve your play, in spite of your long voyages ?" 
 
 "I always take my violin with me. I think 
 I could hardly live without it; it is my consola- 
 tion in solitude and the conjurer of sweet dreams 
 and remembrances : it is the conlidantof my hopes 
 ami fears/'
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 83 
 
 "It might turn out an indiscreet confidant," 
 remarked Pearce, pointedly, "it is so eloquent," 
 He was rather vexed Ly this talent of Maxime, 
 which Hedene seemed to appreciate so highly. 
 
 " But it only says what I wish it to say ; and 
 after all, it's only a translation." 
 
 " My little finger told me that there were some- 
 times found in your cabinet, among plans and 
 maps, sheets of manuscript music too full of era- 
 sures to be copies," said Helune with a winning 
 smile. 
 
 " I humbly beg the little finger to spare my 
 weakness, then; most of us have sins on our con- 
 science." 
 
 Here the Marquis asked for a song, and was 
 joined in the request by Pearce and Jean. Helene 
 sano- Lamartine's " Chant d' Amour." 
 
 o 
 
 Que nos regards charmes se suivent, se prolongent, 
 Comme deux purs rayons l'un dans l'autre se plongent, 
 
 Et portent tour a tour 
 Dans le cceur l'un de l'autre une tremblante flatnme; 
 Ce jour interieur que donne seul a Fame 
 
 Le regard tic L'amour. 
 
 " Un jour tes yenx voiles d'un nnage de larmes, 
 De ces temps ecoules qui t'ont ravi tes charmes, 
 
 Pleureront la rigueur ; 
 Quand dans ton souvenir, dans I'onde dn rivage, 
 Tu chercheraa eD vain ta ravissante image, 
 
 Regarde dans mon cceur.
 
 84 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " Et quand la mort viendra, d'un autre amour suivie, 
 Etoindre en souriant de nut re double vie 
 
 L'un et l'autre flambeau, 
 Qu'clle etende ma couche a cote de la tiennc, 
 Et que ta main fidele embrasse encore la mienne 
 
 Dans la nuit du tombeau." 
 
 The profound pathos of the poetry was en- 
 hanced by the mellowness of the well-controlled 
 voice, and all the listeners were moved when the 
 melody died with the last words : — 
 
 " Et que ta main fidele embrasse encore la mienne 
 Dans la nuit du tombeau ; " 
 
 so that a pause of silence almost solemn ensued. 
 It was broken by Jean, who came behind his sister 
 and bent her head a little backwards to give her a 
 kiss on the forehead, saying at the same time: "I 
 don't mind telling you again, HfTene, that your 
 voice is the voice I like best in the world ; it so 
 well expresses what one feels! " 
 
 " You choose your songs so well too," said 
 Pearce. 
 
 " Oh! T can't bear to sing stupid words, however 
 beautiful the music may be; even meaningless 
 poetry spoils music, I think." 
 
 "It really does for any intelligent being," as 
 sented M. Mote. 
 
 The Marquis now mse, thanked Hdlene for the 
 pleasure she hud given him, and begged to be 
 allowed to come and listen sometimes while she
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 85 
 
 practised with Maxiine; but Helene was by no 
 means in favor of the idea. 
 
 " It would be very tiresome for you, Monsieur, 
 as I am often found fault with, and have to re- 
 peat the same passage over and over again, till 
 Maxime is satisfied." 
 
 "Am I to understand that I am forbidden to 
 come, then ? " asked the Marquis, without the 
 shadow of a smile. 
 
 " By no means ! " answered Hdlene, afraid of 
 having wounded him ; " we shall always be very 
 proud to play for so appreciative a listener. But 
 I could not bear any one to see how I am tyran- 
 nized over when I practise." Then she bowed, in 
 the hope of cutting the parting as short as possi- 
 ble ; but he held out his hand and she had to give 
 him hers, and she fancied that he held it longer 
 and pressed it more softly than he had ever done 
 before. 
 
 Pearce was no judge of music, although he was 
 rather fond of it in a general way ; but he did nut 
 like the idea of appearing inferior to Maxime or 
 to M. de Civray in Helene's eyes, and in order 
 to show that he was not incompetent, he praised 
 her style and asked where she had funned it. She 
 explained to him that she went to Paris every 
 year with her father (her mother going into a con- 
 vent for a religious retreat during their abseni 
 that they attended the best concerts, " Pasdeloup,"
 
 86 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " Colonne," " Trocadero," " Conservatoire," and that 
 she also took lessons from Marmontel. 
 
 " I see clearly through it all now," said Tearce 
 gallantly ; " you are no more a demoiselle de province 
 than Peau-d'ane was a shepherdess." 
 
 " You are mistaken there. I am of the country ; 
 I belong to it, and I like it. Yes, I like the long 
 leisure hours which can be devoted to study or 
 healthy recreation; I like the simplicity of its 
 customs, the reliableness of its friendships, and 
 I think I could hardly become a real Parisian 
 again." 
 
 " Still, you are fit for the more enlightened, 
 larger life of a metropolis ; you must suffer some- 
 times from the want of intellectual society." 
 
 " Not so long as I have my father and my books. 
 I don't pretend to say that I should not regret our 
 yearly visits to Paris if I had to give them up ; but 
 as it is, I am perfectly contented." 
 
 "Have you no wish to see London, then ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes ! a very strong wisli indeed; . . . but 
 as it is not to be thought of, 1 dismiss it from my 
 mind." 
 
 Pearce's notion was not that this thought should 
 be dismissed from her mind, but, on the contrary, 
 that it should be encouraged, considered, and 
 at last carried out. He saw plainly that he had 
 two rivals: one, the Marquis, might be formida- 
 ble, with all the prestige conferred by rank and
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 87 
 
 wealth ; the other had on his side old associations, 
 familiar intercourse, and perhaps the weight of 
 previous paternal agreement. He himself was 
 deprived of his arms for the combat. Hedene no 
 doubt had been told of his celebrity, but she saw 
 no sign of it here. Celebrity cannot be worn 
 at the button-hole like a decoration ; it can't be 
 printed upon one's card like a title ; it does not 
 surround you with luxury like wealth: still, it is 
 no less a power than rank and fortune. It is a real 
 possession, and one which has always exercised 
 the greatest fascination upon women. If He'lene 
 were in London, she would become aware of his 
 real position in society, and that position was such 
 as perhaps to balance in the girl's estimation that 
 of a Marquis doomed to idiocy. In consequence, 
 he determined to try all his powers of persuasion 
 upon Hedene and M. Mole" to decide them to go to 
 England. " I don't see at all why the idea of com- 
 ing to London should not be seriously considered 
 by your father," he resumed, with more warmth 
 than was his wont. " I think I could be very use- 
 ful to him in some of his researches. I hope I 
 may tempt him. I know some very rare and very 
 valuable manuscripts, hidden jealously from the, 
 mass of ordinary men of science, to which I tan 
 give him access ; he would fill a volume of notes 
 merely on some objects in my keeping at the mu- 
 seum. I should be proud to take him and yen to
 
 88 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 Oxford, to show you the college of which I am 
 Fellow ; it is well worth seeing, and you have noth- 
 ing like it in France. M. Mole" takes the keenest 
 interest in questions of education, and would have 
 ample scope for observations." 
 
 " Oh ! " gayly said Helene, putting her hands 
 over her ears, " vous en direz tant ! " And as at that 
 moment her father was coming back after seems 
 the Marquis away, she said to him : " This is the 
 tempter, and I leave you to his snares." 
 
 And Pearce made his first advance and fouyht 
 his first fight against M. Mold's objections : the 
 fortress did not seem as if it would hold out in- 
 definitely. M. Mole - was brought to acknowledge 
 that it looked possible, nay, that it might be 
 enjoyable. 
 
 " Why always go to Paris, to the same place ?" 
 asked Pearce, "when London would be an entirely 
 new source of information, and almost as accessi- 
 ble ? . . . The difficulty about the language?. . . 
 That is nothing, since Mademoiselle HeMeiie un- 
 derstands English, and will soon speak it when 
 she is obliged ; and besides, will not Jean be their 
 cicerone, or might not I myself, if permitted ?" 
 
 But Jean interrupted him there, saying that he 
 did not think of returning to London this year. 
 
 " How now ? . . . I thought it was settled," 
 said Pearce, very much astonished. 
 
 "I understood you h;i«l decided to spend an-
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 89 
 
 other year in London ! " exclaimed his father, quite 
 taken by surprise. 
 
 " No ; I have not yet made up my mind as to 
 what it will be best for me to do next year," an- 
 swered Jean, with a certain degree of embarrass- 
 ment. "I rather think of remaining in Paris; but 
 — but I have further to consider it." 
 
 Pearce, well pleased with his morning's work, 
 declined to stay for dejeuner ; he said he had prom- 
 ised his mother to be back at La Saulaie in time 
 to take her out for a walk in the afternoon. " By 
 the by," he added, addressing himself to Jean, 
 " the ladies complain that you neglect them awfully 
 now. Olive pretends that she would hardly rec- 
 ognize you if you came unexpectedly, and that she 
 would call upon your sister if she were sure of not 
 turning you out." 
 
 " Then I '11 go with you if you don't mind giv- 
 ing me some lunch, and we shall bring the ladies 
 here afterwards ; we '11 see if Miss Olive does not 
 know me a£rain."
 
 90 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Instead of taking a walk in the afternoon, Mrs. 
 Pearce and Olive called upon Madame Mold. It 
 was a mistake, they declared, to choose the hot- 
 test part of the day to go out ; therefore they 
 had brought their work to join Helene, whose 
 custom it was to spend a few hours in the garden 
 before dinner, sewing or reading. She was with 
 her mother and Maxime, talking about the 
 young man's prospects, and lie was annoyed at 
 the interruption which naturally resulted from 
 a visit. 
 
 Mrs. Pearce told Madame Mold that Jean and 
 her son had gone for a swim in the river, and 
 would soon join them; meanwhile, she intended 
 to be very industrious, for she had to get on seri- 
 ously with the cushion sin; was making, else it 
 would never be finished when they left. But this 
 hot weather, although very agreeable to her in 
 many respects, developed an almost irresistible 
 tendency to idleness; and whenever she took up 
 a book or a piece of work and w r as left to herself, 
 -In' invariably fell into a. doze. 
 
 One of Madame Mole's peculiarities was that
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 91 
 
 she never did any needlework ; this came from 
 an inability to fix her attention, — a result of her 
 former morbid state. When alone or with the 
 members of her family, she almost unconsciously 
 drew the chapelet which hung at her side, and told 
 her beads when they were silent or occupied. She 
 often expressed the wish to be able to work, for 
 then she could be useful to the poor ; but it had 
 become an impossibility. She asked Mrs. Pearce 
 why she was so desirous of finishing her cushion 
 before she left, and learned that it was intended 
 as a present for her, — " for fear of your forgetting 
 us altogether when we are gone, you know," said 
 Mrs. Pearce. She was answered bv the assurance 
 that she would never be forgotten, any more than 
 her dear niece. " But are you already thinking 
 of going back ? " 
 
 " Ah, me ! I wish to goodness I had not to 
 think about it, it is such a trouble. ... I don't 
 know why it is so, but life seems to be made of 
 endless troubles ; as soon as one begins to feel 
 comfortable somewhere, one must go somewhere 
 else. It is nearly intolerable. Now I was getting 
 accustomed to what seemed to me the oddity of 
 French ways to such a degree that they amused 
 me, — as a change; and I had succeeded in turning 
 Margot into a stylish and obedient girl. — which 
 is a great comfort. Put it must all be given up 
 to go and meet with new troubli
 
 92 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " But, Aunt, Margot never was disobedient," re- 
 monstrated Olive ; " only at the beginning she did 
 not always understand your orders." 
 
 " Oh ! she pretended not to understand ; it was 
 only to try whether I could be firm, for I always 
 took care to speak plainly. Now, you remember 
 yourself that I could not get her to buy the kind 
 of butter I liked best until I insisted firmly upon 
 it." 
 
 " And showed her the pattern upon it at the 
 market ; it 's called here beurre brode, and you called 
 it bcuebudct, Auut." 
 
 "Why, it's just the same! But it does not 
 signify, as 1 am the first to say that she is now 
 obedient." 
 
 All the listeners were very much amused by 
 Mrs. Pearce's harmless pretensions. 
 
 "And why are you obliged to go so soon?" 
 Hdlene hastened to ask. " October, though some- 
 times a little chilly in the mornings and evenings 
 towards the end, is generally very tine here." 
 
 " It's Henry, who has to go back to deliver some 
 lectures. How very tedious it is to be tied to 
 stated days ! It's a kind of slavery." 
 
 " Most of us are slaves so far," said Maxiine. 
 
 " And it is what takes so much from life's en- 
 joyment. Had 1 been ;i man, I would have lnali- 
 
 aged so as to keep my liberty. I often say so to 
 
 Henry."
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 93 
 
 " I suppose he answers that although very de- 
 sirable, it is also very difficult." 
 
 " Yes, he does ; but I think most people are not 
 as sensitive as I am to all sorts of annoyance, 
 otherwise they would be more careful to spare 
 themselves. Yourself, now, for iDstance, might 
 have stayed at home, I daresay, instead of expos- 
 ing yourself to so many dangers and your mother 
 to so much anxiety by going so far. Engineers 
 must be in constant request in France, by all I 
 can see ; they make new railways, canals, and that 
 sort of thing, don't they ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but I found a means of earning much 
 more money, experience, and reputation in going to 
 the Cape." 
 
 " And do you intend to go again ? " 
 
 " I don't know yet ; that depends upon a partic- 
 ular thing over which I have no power. If it 
 were decided according to my hopes, I should be 
 most happy to stay ; if not . . . then I shall go 
 away again, very likely for several years." . . . His 
 voice was sad and unsteady. He looked intently 
 towards Hdlene, but she did not raise her eyes. 
 
 "This is not at all what your mother expects," 
 exclaimed Madame Mold, "and your going away 
 again would lie a dreadful disappointment; she 
 could not bear it." 
 
 "God knows I don't wish to inflict it upon us; 
 it would be quite as hard for me as for her."
 
 94 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " One never knows what way young men will 
 turn, and it is one of the exasperating facts of ex- 
 istence," remarked Mrs. Pearce. " Who would have 
 thought that your son, Madame Mold, would sud- 
 denly change his mind, as Henry tells me he is on 
 the point of doing ? . . . He had told us all about 
 his projects and schemes for next year; he had 
 made me consent to abandon the greater part of 
 my precious garden to establish a lawn-tennis ; he 
 was to paint my portrait, and I don't know how 
 many other things besides; and now he coolly says 
 he does not think he '11 go back to London ! " 
 
 " Oh ! does he really say so ? " cried Olive, in 
 dismay. 
 
 "You'd better ask him; there he comes," an- 
 swered Mrs. Pearce. 
 
 Immediately questioned on the subject, Jean 
 explained that nothing was decided yet; that lie 
 was weighing in his mind what would be mosl prof- 
 itable; and that so far as his present conclusions 
 went, it certainly seemed wiser for him to spend 
 the next year in Paris. 
 
 "And, please, where waa the use of turning my 
 poor garden topsy-turvy under pretext <>f playing 
 lawn-tennis, if you Btay away?" asked Mrs. Pearce. 
 " I am not the one to play with olive, neither is 
 Henry, I fancy !" 
 
 "1 Bhall learn the game, to have the pleasure 
 of teaching it to Mademoiselle Jlelene when she 
 comes," sniil Pearce.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 95 
 
 " If she comes !" . . . interrupted Helene, shak- 
 ing her head. 
 
 "Xow here is another uncertainty! How can 
 one have sufficient patience to bear with all these 
 dilatory people? It's as provoking as being in 
 Scotland, where you never can get a downright 
 answer to any question," remarked Mrs. Pearce 
 with slight irritation. 
 
 Jean and Pearce had brought chairs near the 
 ladies, and after sitting down they remained silent 
 for some time. Jean had thrown his straw hat on 
 the ground, and was rocking himself slowly, with 
 his eyes shut, as if lost in meditation. Maxime 
 traced melancholy hieroglyphs on the sand with 
 his stick, while Pearce's thoughts seemed to fol" 
 low high up in the air the faint blue smoke of his 
 cigarette. A feeling of sadness, not entirely de- 
 void of charm, was pervading the atmosphere. The 
 air was perfectly still : the autumnal haze, red- 
 dened by the heat of the day, spread like a gor- 
 geous veil between the river and the hills ; the 
 flowers drooped their heads to the parched earth, 
 and now and then a leaf fell noiselessly, without a 
 flutter. The smell of luscious ripe fruit, blended 
 with the perfumes of the heliotropes and petunias, 
 hung about without rising, and lulled the senses 
 to dreaminess. 
 
 It was Madame Mole" who at last, with a 
 sigh, gave utterance to the general preoccupation.
 
 96 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " How strange," she said, " to be here together, and 
 to think that in so short a time we shall be sepa- 
 rated, — each of us going in a separate path of his 
 own, and some perhaps never to meet again!" 
 
 "Oh, don't say never to meet again!" pleaded 
 Olive, her usually laughing blue eyes dimmed by 
 tears ; "it's painful enough to separate, even with 
 the hope of reunion." 
 
 " It is sadder for old people like me, who never 
 travel ; there is less chance of meeting again. Sup- 
 pose you get married next year : it is quite possi- 
 ble that your husband may never come this way." 
 
 "Olive married next year!" cried Pearce, who 
 burst out laughing; "what a clever and accom- 
 plished wife she would make! . . . Don't you 
 know that she is going to be sent to school next 
 year, Madame Mold ? " 
 
 "I am sure she is clever enough and sufficiently 
 accomplished to make a good little wile," an- 
 swered Madame Mold with great decision. 
 
 Jean would have liked to kiss his mother 
 twenty times. 
 
 "Oh! it's not likely that I shall get married 
 soon," Olive said; " having no fortune to speak of, 
 I must begin to think seriously about qualifying 
 myself for something or other." 
 
 "In general, when young people many," pur- 
 sued Madame Mold, "their fortune is not made; 
 they have to make it, — at least it is our notion
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 97 
 
 in the French middle-class. Provided the wife 
 has a little dowry and simple tastes, and the hus- 
 band a good profession and courage, it is thought 
 sufficient to begin with." 
 
 "Ah! but it's very different in England," said 
 Pearce. " So much money is necessary to live de- 
 cently now, a fellow can't think of encumbering 
 himself with a wife and family with less than two 
 thousands pounds a year, if he means to be consid- 
 ered a gentleman." 
 
 " How much is that in French money ? " asked 
 Madame Mole\ 
 
 " Cinquaute mille francs," answered Jean. 
 
 " Cinquaute mille francs to be spent every 
 year!" exclaimed Madame Mold, lifting her hands 
 to heaven and looking utterly bewildered. " What 
 can they do with so much money ? " 
 
 " They only do like their neighbors, you know, 
 and nobody likes to be looked down upon by one's 
 friends. It's the fashion now to live in very 
 pretty houses, kept in first-rate style ; and the 
 fashion is not at all disagreeable, I can assure you. 
 We like to be surrounded by works of art, or at 
 least, if we can't afford them, by artistic things, — 
 furniture, carpets, china, etc. The aesthetic faculty 
 has so much developed of late that one cannot 
 own anything vulgar or commonplace without 
 being put down as uncultivated and unrefined. 
 The result is that everybody is alive to the neces- 
 
 7
 
 98 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 sity of showing taste and knowledge in all his 
 belongings. Even the ladies dress better than 
 they ever did before ; the children, better attended, 
 each with a nurse, have nicer manners, and look 
 prettier in consequence; and the service, discharged 
 by well-trained servants understanding their sev- 
 eral specialties, is perfect. But of course all this 
 comfort has to be paid for." 
 
 " Still," interrupted Madame Mole, " cinquante 
 mille francs is a large sum of money; I don't 
 know a single house at Champignol where so 
 much is spent in a year, although we have several 
 aristocratic families, keeping their carriage-and- 
 pair, and living in style." 
 
 " The difference is, that in France people are 
 so easily contented," resumed Pearce. " I don't 
 know how they manage, I am sure. Look here, 
 Madame Mold, — I don't seem to be a very ex- 
 travagant fellow, do I, now ? Well, then, what do 
 you think I spend a year ? " 
 
 " I can't possibly guess. . . . You live with 
 your mother, I think? ..." 
 
 "No; my mother keeps two rooms for me, — a 
 bedroom and a study, — and I go to her whenever 
 I can spare the time. But 1 have a very small es- 
 tablishment in London and a couple of rooms at 
 Oxford. Well, with my books and travels I spend 
 half the sum I ascribed to a married man as neces- 
 sary, I may add that I am neither addicted to
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 99 
 
 drink, betting, nor gambling, and tbat I should 
 feel awfully cramped if I had to cut off my pur- 
 chases of books or of any material for my work." 
 
 " Well, I can't help thinking that it 's unfortu- 
 nate not to be able to manage with less money," 
 answered Madame Mole\ " If a man can't marry 
 before he earns fifty thousand francs a year, you 
 must have a good many old maids and old 
 bachelors in England." 
 
 " Oh 1 there are not wanting reckless people 
 who marry anyhow, and whose friends have to 
 provide for them afterwards," said Mrs. Pearce. 
 " It 's one of the greatest troubles of life to have 
 needy relations ; and in consequence I consider it 
 as a sort of dishonesty to get married without 
 enough to live upon. This I take good care to 
 impress upon Olive and Henry.'' 
 
 "And you, Hedene," asked Maxiine, "do you 
 think you will never get married on less than 
 fifty thousand francs a year ? " 
 
 Hedene smiled a little sadly. "Oh!" she said, 
 " I am only a French girl, with French notions of 
 commc-il-fmd. I can feel very happy in a muslin 
 dress, even if my neighbor wears one of satin ; and 
 if the service of Toinette is not faultless, I can 
 help myself. If ever I marry, I should be very 
 sorry to oblige my husband to earn such large 
 sums of money for me." 
 
 "But I am sure he would be happy and proud
 
 100 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 to work for you," said Pearce. " It must be said 
 for Englishmen that if they spend much, they are 
 willing to work hard." 
 
 " Yes ; but in spite of the most serious efforts 
 one does not always succeed in earning a large 
 income," remarked Maxime. 
 
 " Then in such a case one ought to remain 
 single," Pearce answered without hesitation. 
 
 " And never to love, then ? " 
 
 "Well, of course it would be better not, if it 
 could be helped." 
 
 " I should be very sorry to see such ideas pre- 
 vail in France," said Madame Mole', " because I 
 should have very little chance of ever seeing my 
 children settled. I hope Jean is not going to 
 wait till he earns fifty thousand francs a year to 
 choose a wife." 
 
 " He may find a girl with a fortune, you know, 
 with his talent," said Mrs. Pearce. 
 
 "Thank you for the compliment, Mrs. Pearce! 
 But I can do, I hope, with my own earnings, and 
 be very happy too, provided my wife is not aes- 
 thetic! . . . And then I shall be very careful to 
 settle out of England. I'll take my wife there, 
 though, to show her how nice everything is, and I 
 won't even mind spending some time with my 
 friends — free of cost ! " 
 
 "Jean never can be serious long, you know, 
 mother," said Pearce.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 101 
 
 " That 's pure calumny ! " cried Jean ; " and the 
 proof is, that I stick to one subject, and I mean 
 to put this question to you : Now that you have 
 persuaded Miss Olive that a single person can't 
 live under a thousand a year, and a married one 
 under two, — in what direction are you going to 
 lead her that she may be enabled some day to 
 earn either the one or the other of those trifles ? " 
 
 " But, M. Jean," exclaimed Olive with a very 
 pretty roguish look, " he has not persuaded me at 
 all!" 
 
 " Bravo ! I am very glad to hear it ! " And 
 Jean clapped his hands. 
 
 " It 's my belief that if any Frenchman were 
 foolish enough to make you an offer, Olive, you 
 would accept it blindfold rather than work to go 
 to G-irton," said Pearce ironically. 
 
 " Will you be very much surprised to hear that 
 even without the least chance of an offer I shall 
 not go to Girton ? " asked Olive, blushing very 
 red at her own temerity ; her cousin's taunts 
 having fairly driven her to open rebellion. 
 
 " No, indeed," he answered in a brief, cold tone. 
 He was beginning to be afraid of a scene, in which 
 the sympathies of the listeners might be alienated 
 from him. "I never believed that you seriously 
 intended to try." 
 
 "I'd rather learn thoroughly a modern lan- 
 guage, — German, or Italian, or Spanish, — than
 
 102 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 Greek or Latin, which may never be of any use 
 to rne, and which I shall never really know," said 
 Olive, still flushed with excitement. " In that 
 case I might make translations, or give lessons, if 
 need be." 
 
 " That is not such a bad idea," answered Pearce, 
 who was struck by the hope that his cousin might 
 become the means of bringing Helene to England. 
 " The thorough knowledge of a modern language 
 is a serious acquisition, and always imparts to its 
 possessor a certain superiority ; society appreciates 
 it, particularly in women. I should think, though, 
 that if you mean to study a modern language seri- 
 ously, you had better get on with French rather 
 than begin with any other, since you are already 
 pretty much advanced." 
 
 Olive was quite taken aback by the way in 
 which her declaration of independence had been 
 received ; she had wished for some time past to 
 acquaint her cousin with her dread of the Girton 
 scheme; she had turned ever so many phrases in 
 her head without finding the desirable one. She 
 had imagined incidents which would make the 
 confession less humiliating, but those incidents 
 would not occur. She had been haunted by a sort 
 of nightmare of what his indignation or disdain 
 would prompt him to say ; and lo! it was all over 
 now, her dreaded confession had been made in 
 public, ami she had experienced no pangs of shame.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCMTY. 103 
 
 Could it be that a subtle, unacknowledged influence 
 was sustaining her ? 
 
 " I hope, Henry, you don't mean to suggest that 
 we ought to remain in France ? " asked Mrs. 
 Pearce in a mildly querulous tone, — " now that 
 I have got over the trouble of making up my 
 mind to go, too." As Mrs. Pearce never thought 
 of resisting any of her son's decisions, either for 
 herself or anybody else, she was beginning to be 
 afraid that he might decree a protracted stay in 
 France for the benefit of Olive's studies, and she 
 thought it as well to let him see how utterly im- 
 possible it would be, before he had pronounced 
 upon the point. " The cold weather will soon set 
 in," she went on, " and it is out of the question to 
 think of ever being tolerably warm in our pres- 
 ent French house, without either coals or carpets, 
 — without mentioning gas. Then I have accepted 
 ever so many invitations for Christmas ; I can't 
 possibly disappoint my friends." 
 
 " Oh ! I never thought of making you spend the 
 winter in France, Mother. I know you would 
 feel it hard to be deprived of the comforts you are 
 accustomed to. . . . It might be desirable that 
 Olive should do so, perhaps. . . . Well, we may 
 think about it." 
 
 Jean felt his heart swelling in his breast as if it 
 would choke him ; he dared not say a word. He 
 did not raise his eyes, for fear they should betray 
 the eagerness of his hope.
 
 104 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 Hdlene looked appealingly at her mother, and 
 Madame Mole" smiled kindly in return. " Would 
 you confide me your niece for a few months, Mrs. 
 Pearce," she asked simply, " while you go to 
 your friends ? It might be very profitable to 
 Hdlene to have the companionship of Miss Olive, 
 and very agreeable also; they would teach each 
 other and make great progress, no doubt, because 
 girls always have so much to talk about. But 
 would our homely ways suit Miss Olive herself ? " 
 
 " Oh ! how can I thank you sufficiently for 
 your kindness, Madame Mold ? " said Olive, run- 
 ning to kiss the little lady, in her charmingly 
 impulsive way. "It would be a delightful finish- 
 ing-school ! But I could not think of giving you 
 so much trouble." 
 
 " Don't mention it, my dear ; it would be a real 
 pleasure to us all to keep you a little longer. . . . 
 The only difficulty," she added, with some hesi- 
 tation, " might come from the . . . difference of 
 . . . of religious belief." 
 
 The fact is that Madame Mold had not thought 
 of it when she had made her invitation. But 
 now the idea of admitting a Protestant to the 
 intimacy of her domestic life seemed so prepos- 
 terous that she did not see how to extricate her- 
 self from fix; awkward situation in which she was 
 placed by her offer. 
 
 "There need be no difficulty about that," an-
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 105 
 
 swered Mrs. Pearce. " My sister-in-law was of 
 Irish extraction, and my brother allowed her to 
 bring up Olive in the Roman Catholic religion. I 
 was opposed to it on account of possible family 
 dissension ; but he told me that he and his wife 
 had agreed to bring up their boys — if they had 
 any — in the religion of their father, and the girls 
 in that of their mother. You see, marriages be- 
 tween persons of different creeds are a source of 
 troubles in so many ways ! " 
 
 " Oh, I am so glad ! " said Madame Mole", with 
 almost religious fervor. She had not heeded the 
 last portion of Mrs. Pearce's speech. It was for 
 her a source of deep satisfaction to know that this 
 lovely girl, to whom she had really become at- 
 tached, was a member of the sole church she 
 recognized as true, that her pure soul was in no 
 peril. 
 
 "All this requires thought and consideration," 
 said Pearce at last; "we shall have to weigh nil 
 sorts of considerations before deciding anything, 
 and M. Mold must be consulted." He was care- 
 ful not to look anxious for tin; realization of a 
 project upon which lie had nevertheless set his 
 heart. His plan was to let the thing be settled 
 in all particulars, and just at last to raise an ob- 
 jection on account of Olive's return. Of course 
 she could not come back by herself, and he was 
 so busy in the spring, because of all the exhibi-
 
 106 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 tions, that it would be impossible for him to come 
 to fetch her. On the other hand, if M. Mold and 
 Hedene decided to go to England, no time in the 
 year might be better chosen than the beginning of 
 the season ; he would be in London then, and 
 might show them what was worth seeing, and 
 perhaps they would bo kind enough to bring back 
 Olive with them. 
 
 This was how he meant to present the project 
 to M. Mold, and to induce him to give his prom- 
 ise; he thought nobody could suspect him of hav- 
 ing an interest in it, it looked so perfectly natural. 
 He did not know what a powerful ally he would 
 find in Jean, whose only fear was of some obstacle 
 which might prevent the realization of his reawak- 
 ened hopes. Had not Olive looked overjoyed at 
 the proposition of being left behind ? . . . Could 
 it be that she only showed her readiness to ac- 
 quiesce in everything that Pearce wanted her to 
 do ? . . . 
 
 Soon after this Mrs. Pearce took her leave, not 
 without having bewailed the state of uncertainty 
 into which she was going to be thrown by this 
 new scheme. It is true that her general helpless- 
 ness rendered Olive almost necessary to her; but 
 whether the girl went to Girton or remained in 
 France, her aunt would have to do without her. 
 And since she had to put up with her absence, it 
 was more convenient to be deprived of her niece's
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 107 
 
 company and attentions while she was visiting 
 her friends, who of course would make her com- 
 fortable, than at any other time. These considera- 
 tions, though of a somewhat selfish order, inclined 
 Mrs. Pearce to offer no opposition to whatever her 
 son might eventually decide.
 
 108 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 A few davs afterwards two letters from Ma- 
 dame Ledoyen were delivered at M. Mold's house, 
 — one for Maxime, the other for Madame Mole\ 
 This appeared curious to Hdlene, who thought that 
 there must be something very particular for her 
 mother, since it was not confided to the care of 
 Maxime, as the expression of kind regards or grat- 
 itude generally was. She noticed a pleased look 
 on her mother's face, with a certain degree of emo- 
 tion, while Maxime turned exceedingly pale and 
 thrust the letter into his pocket without reading 
 it through. 
 
 " Is Madame Ledoyen quite well ? " asked 116- 
 lene of her mother. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! quite ; but she wants her son now. 
 I am afraid we sha'n't be able to keep him much 
 longer." 
 
 In the afternoon of the same day Jean proposed 
 bo go to Mis. Pearce'a with Helene, his father, and 
 Maxime, to learn whether anything had been de- 
 cided about Olive. Maxime, however, declined, 
 saying he had some letters to write. He had as-
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 109 
 
 certained that both Monsieur and Madame Mold 
 would stay at home; and as soon as Jean had gone 
 away with his sister he told Madame Mole - that 
 he wished to speak to her. She replied, with an 
 encouraging smile, that she guessed what the sub- 
 ject of the conversation was to be, and that they 
 would have to no to M. Mold's cabinet to meet 
 him there. 
 
 " I have seen your mother's letter, mon cher gar- 
 gon," were the first words which greeted Maxime ; 
 "and that surely ought to relieve you to some 
 extent. Sit down now, and you too, dear," said 
 M. Mole - , tenderly leading his wife to an armchair; 
 he himself sat opposite to her. " Your good 
 mother says," he went on in a voice less firm 
 than usual, " that you love our Hedene and wish 
 her to become your wife, that the realization of 
 this project would make her very happy, and that 
 she wants you to tell us all your plans in order that 
 you may bring her a decisive answer. ... Is it so ? " 
 
 "Yes," answered Maxime, feeling as if the 
 thumps of his heart were deafening him, so loud 
 they seemed. "I have loved Hedene from the first 
 day that I saw her, and I have loved her ever 
 since. I have worked hard to win her, and if it 
 seems a great presumption on my part to ask her 
 to share my modest position, nobody is more alive 
 to it than myself; but on the eve of an important 
 decision, which will depend upon her verdict, I
 
 110 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 was driven to ascertain my fate, almost against 
 my will." 
 
 " Your mother alludes to business matters ? " 
 
 "Yes; the Company for which I went to the 
 Cape make me a very fine offer if I will sign an 
 engagement for three years. On the other hand, 
 I am sufficiently known now to find enough of 
 remunerative work in France if — if Hdlene con- 
 sents to become my wife. I may give you my 
 word of honor that I am certain of making an in- 
 come of ten thousand francs a year to begin with. 
 I know it is not much ; but there will be a grad- 
 ual increase. Of course it 's not comparable to 
 the conditions offered me for going again to the 
 Cape. But I have no wish to accept; it is only 
 in case of being rejected that I should want to 
 change the direction of my thoughts and hopes." 
 
 "I may as well tell you immediately that I 
 have talked the subject over with my wife and 
 that we are of one mind. There is not any other 
 man in the world to whom I would rather intrust 
 the happiness of my child, than to you; I should 
 feel it secure in your hands. Your position we 
 consider satisfactory, and with He*lene's dowry 
 you would have a sufficient income to begin mar- 
 ried life without anxiety. Our objections, there- 
 fore, are only about your respective ages ; we think 
 both of you very young still." 
 
 " 1 was afraid you would think so, and I should
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. Ill 
 
 have waited another year, in spite of my impa- 
 tience, had it not been that I am obliged to give 
 an immediate answer to the Diamond Company. 
 But I think a year would make very little differ- 
 ence ; you know that I shall not change. You 
 don't want to put me to the test. I can't love 
 Hdlene more faithfully or more deeply than I 
 have done since I knew her; she has been and 
 will be my only love, whatever happens." 
 
 " As to Hdlene's sentiments, 1 cannot venture 
 to say anything. I am sure that you are dear to 
 her and that she is seriously interested in your 
 welfare ; but I know nothing more. Of course we 
 leave her absolutely free in her choice of a partner 
 for life. Not that I mean to withhold our own 
 opinion, or even advice ; but as we have perfect 
 confidence in her judgment, we don't intend to use 
 our authority in the matter." 
 
 " Oh ! I should not want her hand without her 
 heart. I shall not even plead my cause if she 
 does not accept me. I think my love is worthy 
 of hers in return ; and if she cannot give it me, T 
 must resign myself and hope that she will choose 
 one more worthy of it. . . . Will you be so kind 
 as to ascertain what answer she may '_ r ive to my 
 offer, M. Mole* ? I feel sure that you will say more 
 in favor of my suit than I could, and I see that 
 you and Madame Mole* still remain what you have 
 always been, — my best frieuds."'
 
 112 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " I will do as you wish," answered M. Mold ; 
 "and if Hdlene does not disappoint her mother 
 and myself, we shall have another son." M. Mold 
 held out his trembling hand to Maxime, who 
 shook it heartily, but could not say a word, be- 
 cause of the choking in his throat ; his eyes were 
 moist too, and the tears that glittered there fairly 
 fell on little Madame Mold's hair when she em- 
 braced him, saying amidst her sobs, " My child ! 
 my child ! " 
 
 These important preliminaries had been very 
 favorable to Maxime. He knew that M. Mold and 
 his wife were very fond of him, but he was far 
 from certain that they would give him their child. 
 In spite of the great simplicity of his life, M. Mold 
 was said to possess an enviable fortune. His 
 daughter was spoken of as one of the beauties of 
 Champignol, and she was known to be accom- 
 plished far above the general standard; it might 
 therefore be quite natural if M. Mold entertained 
 some ambition on the subject of his daughter's 
 marriage. He would perhaps be most inclined 
 to give her to sonic one having won for himself 
 a reputation, on account of his high appreciation 
 of culture. Maxime had confided all these doubts 
 to his mother, who had guessed long ago the 
 secret of his love Hut .Madame Ledoycn had 
 always encouraged her son by telling him that, 
 before and above everything else, M. Mold would
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 113 
 
 think of his daughter's happiness, and that he 
 would rather give her to Maxime, whose conduct 
 and sentiments were so well known to him, than 
 to a stranger, who might he quite different from 
 what he looked ; she added that as to Madame 
 Mold's wishes there was not the shadow of a 
 doubt, as the two mothers had often talked about 
 the desirableness of success for this long-caressed 
 plan of theirs. Still, Maxime was so diffident and 
 so modest that after coming to M. Mold's with 
 the express purpose of asking him for his daugh- 
 ter's baud, he had not gathered sufficient courage 
 to do it, although his visit was drawing to a close, 
 until his mother, tired of waiting for news which 
 never came, made it impossible for him to stand 
 back any longer. She herself wrote to Madame 
 Mold and made the offer in her son's name, ex- 
 plaining everything candidly, and asking for her 
 friend's support. In another letter of the same 
 clay she told Maxime what she had done, and 
 ended with the expression of the hope that he 
 would soon come back to her quite happy. As to 
 Hdlene herself, Madame Ledoyen had no appre- 
 hension; she was the very girl to appreciate 
 Max,ime's qualities. She had been brought up 
 delicately and tenderly, — where could she find 
 more delicacy of sentiment and more tenderness 
 than in the heart offered to her? Then, again, 
 Hdlene had the greatest respect for her lather's 
 
 8
 
 114 GOLDEN MEDIOCEITY. 
 
 opinion, and Madame Ledoyen felt certain of that 
 opinion being favorable to her son; still, she could 
 not help waiting anxiously for news. It came 
 two days after the sending of her own letters. 
 Maxime wrote : — 
 
 Dearest Mother, — It is as I feared; I am rejected. 
 Helene has given no reason, except that she does not feel 
 inclined to marry now, and will not bind herself by any 
 promise about the future. She is right. M. Mole is very 
 sorry for me, and his kind wife still more so. 
 
 I need say no more; you know what I suffer. But I 
 beg that the subject may be buried and never mentioned, 
 even between you and me. I do not want to break off 
 the old and dear ties which unite us to M. Mole's fam- 
 ily, and I intend to behave as if nothing had happened; 
 only it will require some time before I can act my part 
 naturally, and I shall spend three years at the Cape 
 learning it. 
 
 I shall be with you again to-morrow, dearest Mother. 
 Forgive me the pain I shall inflict upon you; but it is bet- 
 ter to try an energetic cure than to remain moping at 
 
 home. 
 
 With my best love, I remain, etc., 
 
 Maxime. 
 
 Poor Madame Ledoyen could not bring herself 
 for some time to believe the contents of this letter ; 
 still, it was so like her son not to harass her with 
 his grief, but to express a courageous determina- 
 tion of fighting it immediately. Oh, yes ! she 
 knew what he must suffer, and he did not attempt 
 to disguise it.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 115 
 
 Ah, me ! how she cried when she realized that 
 he would go away again, and for three long years ! 
 . . . She never dreamed of offering any opposi- 
 tion ; it would be better for him ! She never ques- 
 tioned his affection for her; she trusted it, and felt 
 that he could not bear his pain so manfully under 
 her pitying eye, and that he would want to be 
 among people who did not know of it. She did 
 not accuse him of cruelty, although he was going 
 to leave her, — ah, so lonely! for she was aware 
 that his heart bled for her. . . . Still, he must so ! 
 . . . and she wept and cried without intermission, 
 without calling either reason or resignation to her 
 help ; she abandoned herself entirely to the bitter- 
 ness of her grief, in order to show her son a calmed 
 and composed appearance on his return. But she 
 was very angry with Helene ; and in the depths of 
 her heart felt that she could never forgive her. 
 
 Meanwhile He'lene herself was rather miserable, 
 although she did not see how she could have 
 acted otherwise. She was conscious of having 
 disappointed those that she best loved ; she was 
 very sorry for Maxime, who had not said a word 
 to her about his rejection, and who strove man- 
 fully to hide his disappointment. She was still 
 more sorry for Madame Ledoyen, because she had 
 been told of her son's determination to go away, 
 and she could do nothing to avert the conse- 
 quences of the refusal by which she had relinr
 
 116 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 qnislied every friendly right of advice she might 
 have possessed over his projects. But her con- 
 science absolved her from all blame ; her instinct 
 had taught her that the accepted husband ought 
 to be the best loved, and she was not certain of 
 loving Maxime best. Her affection for him was 
 deep and tender, so tender that she could hardly 
 bear the idea of not seeing him again for three 
 years ; but it was a quiet, undisturbing affection. 
 She appreciated his qualities without romantic 
 exaggeration, and she did not feel enraptured be- 
 cause he loved her; while it seemed that she 
 might be enraptured by the certainty of one other 
 love, — the mere hope of it was intoxicating. 
 Did she love Pearce, then ? . . . She was not 
 quite sure of it, she did not know him sufficiently 
 yet; for, mixed with her great admiration of him, 
 were some strangely chilling forebodings and sus- 
 picions. She dwelt with infinite pleasure upon 
 his peculiar British style of beauty, which had 
 made a greater impression upon her by contrast. 
 She admired the dignity of his rare gestures, his 
 tall and aristocratic frame, and she accepted as the 
 most subtle flattery which could lie offered her 
 the softened tones of a voice so brief and authori- 
 tative when it spoke to others. Yet she did not 
 feci carried unreservedly towards him ; she could 
 remain critical, and even suspicious, — was he not 
 selfish and proud ? . . . Proud he had a right to
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 117 
 
 be, although her father wore his own superiority 
 so meekly ; but egotistic aud a slave to the world, 
 — his world's opinion? He had himself pleaded 
 guilty to this last imputation ; but that must be 
 the fault of society more than his own. He had 
 said one was compelled to accept the general laws 
 then existing. Well, her heart could give no de- 
 finite answer, and her conscience forbade her to 
 promise her love to Maxime when she was not 
 sure of beino- still mistress of it. 
 
 The situation was felt to be somewhat con- 
 strained at M. Mold's, and no attempts were made 
 to detain Maxime any longer. On the day of his 
 departure he sought Toinette in her kitchen to 
 bid her good-bye, to which she answered cheerfully 
 that she hoped it would not be for long. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " he said with uncontrollable sad- 
 ness, " for very long, I fear. I am going for three 
 years, to begin with." 
 
 "You don't say so! Jesus, mori Bin/, three 
 years ! . . . Why, Mademoiselle Hdlene will be 
 almost an old maid when you come back ! " 
 exclaimed Toinette, looking quite reproachful. 
 " Unless . . . unless she gets married while 
 you are gadding about, M. Maxime," she added 
 archly. 
 
 " Very likely I shall find you all married when 
 I come again. Even you, Toinette, will very 
 likely be Madame Mathieu, eh 1 "
 
 118 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " Leave that joke to M. Jean, who is never 
 tired of teasing me ; but you know better, M. 
 Maxime. . . . Are you really going away again 
 — like that ? . . . " And she lifted up the cover 
 of a pan simmering on the charcoal fire and 
 closely examined its contents while she proceeded. 
 " Ma foi ! in your place, I should not have gone 
 first ! " 
 
 " How first ? What do you mean, Toinette ? " 
 
 Then Toinette deliberately came very close to 
 him and said in a low and angry voice : " No, 
 I would not go before V Anglais if I were you, 
 voild !" and she winked to emphasize her meaning. 
 
 Maxime understood her perfectly. " Going or 
 staying would not make any difference in this 
 case, Toinette. So good-bye ; don't forget me alto- 
 gether." 
 
 " No fear of that, M. Maxime, nobody is likely 
 to forget you here. But before you go I may say 
 something to comfort you, because I know you 
 won't laugh at it. My grandmother has taught 
 me a prayer, by whose virtue la Trh-Sainh - 
 Vicri/r-Murir always grants you what you ask 
 for if you repeat it every day of your life. She 
 herself asked to know when she should die, to pre- 
 pare herself for it, ami sure enough she knew the 
 very day ami hour. I would teach it to you, were 
 it not that I was made to swear on the holy cross, 
 before I learned it, to keep it secret till I felt near
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 119 
 
 my end. But as I was so happy, I did not know 
 what I might ask for jusqu'd present, therefore I 
 have not made use of it; but now, M. Maxime, 
 je la dirai a voire intention." 
 
 "Thank you very much, and good-bye again, 
 Toinette," said the young man, well knowing all 
 that the sympathetic servant had implied in her 
 speech. 
 
 Taking leave of Helene was more difficult ; 
 should he beg to speak to her privately. ... Of 
 what use could it be to tell her that his heart 
 would always be hers ? . . . She knew it, and did 
 not care. No, it would be better to be on his 
 guard against his own weakness, and merely to 
 bid a general farewell. 
 
 He did so, and it was with sorrowful feelings 
 that every one in M. Mold's house saw him depart. 
 Jean guessed the truth, but said nothing ; his 
 heart was heavy about his friend's prospects. " I 
 wish Helene had accepted him," he said to him- 
 self; "there is not a better fellow in the world, 
 or one who deserves her more." 
 
 Maxime's departure was the beginning of the 
 separations which the end of the vacations inevit- 
 ably brings round, together with the saddening 
 influence of autumnal days. Whoever has lived 
 long in the country takes glad notice of the heav- 
 ily laden carriages filing past along the dusty sun- 
 lit road in the early part of August, with their
 
 120 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 freight of merry occupants, often perched on the 
 top of their numerous boxes and packages ; every- 
 one is going home then ! It is the beginning of 
 the vacations. But with what different feelings 
 the same filing past of the same people in the 
 same carriages is witnessed two months later in 
 the first chill of misty mornings or early twi- 
 lights ! The faces are turned in an opposite direc- 
 tion and all the mirth is spent, the eyes are swollen 
 and reddened, and no gay chattering is heard. 
 Children are going back to school, men to toil and 
 business, and the old parents in the country are 
 left alone for another year. 
 
 M. Mole" had at last promised to go to London 
 with Helene in the spring and to take back Olive. 
 This promise had reconciled Pearce with the neces- 
 sity of going away ; the more so as he left behind 
 an ally who was sure to talk of him to Helene, 
 and who would often write both to his mother 
 and to himself and let them know all that might 
 interest them about the inmates of the family with 
 whom she was going to live. 
 
 Although so glad to 1"' lefi with Helene, poor 
 Olive cried a good deal when her aunl ami cousin 
 went away. Pearce had been so much kinder to 
 her lately that all the submissive admiration for 
 him had returned, and she almost accused herself 
 of ungratefulness. .lean felt miserably jealous, 
 — she did not pay any attention to him ; and he
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 121 
 
 would have joined Maxime in his voyage (he 
 thought), had it not been for so long a time. His 
 opinion quite changed, however, within a few days, 
 when, Olive having recovered from the sadness of 
 parting from her friends, and being her merry self 
 again, his father hinted at the desirability of 
 resuming his studies. 
 
 Meanwhile Hdlene was left in some perplexity. 
 Pearce had not disguised how reluctantly he went 
 away from her ; nay, he had even told her so on 
 the day before be left, when he had found her alone 
 in the garden. He had taken hold of her hand and 
 had begged her not to forget him altogether. She 
 had promised, with her eyes cast down, her heart 
 beating quick in anticipation of what was to 
 follow ; but nothing followed. He pressed her 
 hand to thank her, let it drop, and returned with 
 her to the house. He had implied that he loved 
 her, he had looked as if he did ; but he had not 
 told her so. 
 
 And now Jean had to pack up too ; ho must 
 hasten to Paris to paint his picture for the Salon. 
 It was decided that he should come back to Cham- 
 pignol to spend Christinas and New Year's Day; 
 and as that would make only a three months' 
 absence, the separation was not very painful. 
 
 When he was already in the court-yard, waiting 
 for the omnibus to take his luggage, he turned 
 towards Toinette to say : " Be sure to let me
 
 122 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 know when your mind is made up, Toinette ; I 
 want to dance at the wedding." 
 
 " My mind is sooner made up than some peo- 
 ple's, and, what is more, does not alter when it's 
 made up, Monsieur Jean. I daresay there may 
 be a wedding at which you will soon dance ; but 
 it won't be mine ! " And she laughed heartily to 
 see him blush. 
 
 " Well, I am sorry to think Mathieu has such a 
 poor chance," he rejoined; "but I hope it's not 
 final." 
 
 "How can you think I should tolerate a man 
 always in my way, Monsieur Jean ? . . . No ; you 
 are the only one that I allow to come into my 
 kitchen, — and yet not for long, although I have 
 been used to your Mays from a boy." 
 
 The omnibus being now at the door, Jean kissed 
 his mother and sister tenderly, shook hands with 
 Olive, and was off with his father. 
 
 When she went back to the house, Olive was 
 wiping her eyes as well as He'lene and Madame 
 Mold. The fact did not escape Toinette, who liked 
 her the better for it.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 123 
 
 IX. 
 
 The ordinary course of life being resumed at M. 
 Mold's, Olive was greatly interested by her new ex- 
 periences. She declared that she would do exactly 
 as Hdlene did, and would try to be of some use 
 in the house. Accordingly, she made for herself 
 a simple, pretty peignoir such as Hdlene wore in 
 the morning, and was taught the mysteries of 
 sweeping and dusting. It amused her exceedingly 
 to go to market, under Toinette's vigilant eyes, and 
 learn the art of distinguishing between good and 
 mediocre equality. As she was a very docile pupil, 
 Toinette did not begrudge her instructions, and 
 confidently said that Mademoiselle Olive learned 
 everything fast ; that she would soon know as 
 much as herself, — except, perhaps, cooking, which 
 required a deal of practice. 
 
 " I suppose you have had experience of va- 
 rious kinds in your life, Toinette," once asked 
 Olive when they were coming back from market 
 together ; " you must have lived for several years 
 with Madame Mold." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I have been with her almost ever
 
 124 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 since she was married. I was then twenty-four. 
 It was a different house from what you see it now ; 
 Madame was as merry as a lark then, — something 
 like you, — singing all day long ; and so pretty too ! 
 You would not think so now. And Monsieur so 
 fond and proud of his young wife ! They gave 
 little dinner-parties, — that was in Paris, — and 
 very great people came ; and they all said that 
 Madame was charming and her dinners excellent." 
 
 " No doubt," remarked Olive ; " you were already 
 her cook." 
 
 " Yes ; hut I did not know very much, because 
 I had been kept very tight about expenses in my 
 previous situation. Still, 1 did my best, and soon 
 improved ; and Madame's parents used to send 
 wine, poultry, vegetables, and fruit far better and 
 fresher than what is got in the Paris markets." 
 
 " Did you like Paris, Toiuette ? " 
 
 " Ah ! pour ea, non ! but I liked my master and 
 mistress, and I was obliged to bide my time. The 
 worst was thai I had to pay so dear for the rent of 
 my room that I could hardly save anything; and 
 yet the furniture was all packed up on the top of 
 one another." 
 
 "How was it that you had furniture of your 
 own? I should so much like to hear your story. 
 Did you not live in Madame Mold's house?" 
 
 "Oh, yes! but, the room I speak of was for my 
 furniture, that which my former master left me
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 125 
 
 when he died. I had been eight years with him, — 
 that was my first situation. Since it would interest 
 you to know my story, I will tell it you, Made- 
 moiselle, although there is not much in it. When 
 my father died I was only fourteen, and I had a 
 brother and two sisters younger than myself, and 
 our mother had been dead three years then. I did 
 not know what to do at first, with no money and 
 three children to keep besides myself, and people 
 advised me to seek for a situation ; but I could 
 not abandon the children, and as the house and 
 garden were ours, I thought at least they could 
 be sheltered and fed. My brother was twelve, 
 and^at the recommendation of M. le Cure' he was 
 apprenticed to the village wheelwright for two 
 years ; we were not to pay anything, but then he 
 would have to get his food at home. I thought that 
 would do very well. My sisters were twins and 
 only ten, and nobody would take them before they 
 had made their first communion ; so they went to 
 their catechism and school, while I dug the garden 
 (with the kind help of some neighbors) for pota- 
 toes and vegetables. And I kept a gnat for milk 
 and our hens for eggs; and it would have been 
 easy enough to live had it not been for the bread 
 and clothes. To get that we had first to sell the 
 cow, then the furniture went, bit by bit; but I 
 always got a fair price for it, because M. le Cure', 
 who knew that we would not accept charity, man-
 
 126 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 aged the bargains fur me and told the buyers that 
 it would be a sinful shame to pay less than its 
 value to poor orphans in great need. I could not 
 earn any money by work, for I had plenty to do, 
 both early and late, to keep the children decent 
 and prepare their meals, and to dig and plant and 
 water the garden. 
 
 " At last, when my sisters were twelve years old, 
 I put them with a seamstress to learn dress-mak- 
 ing ; and as they were fed, I agreed to pay three 
 hundred francs a year for two years, after which 
 they would earn enough for their keep, and a little 
 over. As my brother was now doing for himself, 
 I let the house and garden for two hundred francs 
 a year, and went as a servant to scrape together 
 the other hundred that I had to give for my 
 sisters. I should have had two hundred francs 
 wages; but as my sisters came to see me once a 
 month, and my brother occasionally, and as my 
 mistress allowed them to dine with me when they 
 came, she told me that 1 should only receive a hun- 
 dred and eighty francs : that was fair." 
 
 " I think it was very shabby ! " exclaimed Olive 
 indignantly. 
 
 "Oh, no ! they were not shabby, but very eco- 
 nomical people. 1 could tell you a little story 
 about that, — but I must have wearied you by this 
 time." 
 
 "Oh, pray goon, 1 am so much interested! I
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 127 
 
 had no idea that it was possible to live upon so 
 little." 
 
 "When you can't get more, you have to do 
 it," philosophically remarked Toinette, " although 
 a little more would have been welcome ; but, 
 Dieio merci ! we all had good health and plenty of 
 courage." 
 
 " Don't forget your story, Toinette." 
 
 " Well, my master and mistress had no children, 
 and they were sometimes visited by their nephews 
 and nieces ; and once I happened to be kneading 
 dough when Mademoiselle Elise, a young niece of 
 Madame, came into the kitchen. ' Oh ! Toinette,' 
 she said to me, ' I hope you '11 make me a galette 
 at the same time.' 1 asked my mistress's permis- 
 sion, and she gave it. At dejeuner, Mademoiselle 
 £lise kept saying : ' Aunt, how good this galette 
 is ! please, give me a little more.' In the afternoon 
 my mistress told me to show her the pot in which 
 the provision of melted butter was kept ; after 
 looking inside she said : ' Toinette, you have made 
 a galette once ; but no other galette shall ever be 
 made in this house.' " 
 
 " Oh, Toinette ! . . . and you say she was not 
 stingy ?" 
 
 " No, Mademoiselle, she was not, for she never 
 denied what was necessary ; but she was very 
 economical, and a very good thing it was for me 
 to be taught by her at first. And when she died
 
 128 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 {que Dim ait son dmc !) she did not forget me ; she 
 left me a hundred and fifty francs a year, and 
 my master did the same, and added to it the fur- 
 niture of his own bedroom and his umbrella." 
 
 "And yon have kept the furniture all this 
 time ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle, and very handsome it is ; 
 all noyer cire. I will show it to you, if you like ; 
 it is in my room now : we have more space than 
 in Paris." 
 
 "It must have cost you almost as much as it is 
 worth if you have had to send it to Paris, to rent 
 a room, and to get it here again." 
 
 " That may be ; but I was not the one to part 
 with it, and it has turned useful at last. ... It's 
 not like the umbrella, which is so big that I dare 
 not use it ; all the gamins would cry after me. It 's 
 a pity, too, for I have had it covered again, and it 
 has cost me twenty-eight francs." 
 
 "You got it covered again out of respect for 
 your late master, then ? " 
 
 "Yes; ;mdas it's never used, it will keep de- 
 cent till after my death. I dust and shake it often. 
 I should not have liked anybody to find it after 
 me uncared for, and with my master's name upon 
 it too." 
 
 Olive marvelled at the contrast between the 
 easy familiarity of Toinette with her masters, ami 
 het respectful devotion; how different from the
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 129 
 
 obsequious humility and utter uuconcern of the 
 servants she had known hitherto! 
 
 Apart from her domestic instruction, Olive 
 studied French and music in earnest under Hd- 
 lene's directions. Both girls worked very seri- 
 ously, feeling, perhaps, that work was the only 
 antidote to a lurking sense of dulness which made 
 itself felt at times, in spite of all their efforts to 
 ignore it. Olive had no idea of such a life. She 
 1aad been accustomed to a metropolis, to a great 
 deal of company and sight-seeing; and she had not 
 imagined how much of the cheerfulness of M. 
 Mold's house was due to the presence of Jean, 
 to his never-tiring flow of spirits, to the peculiar 
 gayety of his disposition. Hdlene and her father, 
 though quietly cheerful, had not the gift possessed 
 by Jean of tickling other people's fancies, of awak- 
 ening laughter, of presenting things under original 
 aspects. Madame Mold was not seen much in her 
 house, she was so often at church ; and even when 
 at home, her mind 'wandered a way so frequently 
 that a sustained conversation was very difficult. 
 And then her views were so melancholy ! . . . The 
 onlv distractions were the Long walks with M. 
 Mold, and some occasional visitors. Among thi ra 
 the Marquis de Civray seemed the most remark- 
 able to Olive, and she began to suspect from his 
 frequent calls and presents of fruit and flowers 
 that there was some powerful attraction for him 
 
 9
 
 130 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 in M. Mold's house. He never stayed very long 
 when he came. After a short private conference 
 with M. Mold he paid his visit to the ladies, did 
 not say much, hut lingered as if he wished to say 
 something. 
 
 It occurred to Olive that she was perhaps in 
 the way, that M. de Civray might have something 
 to communicate relating to his family, and that 
 he did not wish to take a stranger into his con- 
 fidence ; accordingly, the next time he came she 
 withdrew after the first greetings. But Helene 
 begged her not to do so again, as M. de Civray 
 had nothing particular to say, she affirmed ; upon 
 which Olive shook her head and remarked tbat 
 she was not so sure of that. " He seems altered 
 for the worse every time he comes," she pursued ; 
 " his beautiful white hands show their blue veins 
 as if there was no flesh in them, and his eyes grow 
 darker, and sink more and more ! Did you notice, 
 Hdlene, that he has now a tendency to stoop when 
 he does not think about holding himself up ? and 
 when he thinks of it, he starts and stands erect 
 suddenly, with a visible effort." 
 
 "I did notice it," answered Bdleue sadly; "I 
 am afraid he is seriously ill or anxious." 
 
 Jean's letters always brought with them a little 
 of the warmth and sunshine possessed by their 
 writer. Now one came full of hope about his 
 picture ; he was sure it deserved a medal, and it
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 131 
 
 would he scandalous not to give him one. An- 
 other contained amusing details about his models, 
 especially one of them, a splendid and stupid crea- 
 ture whose specialite was to shed tears — the most 
 beautiful tears in the world — at will. She was 
 very precious to him just now, as Jephtha's daugh- 
 ter. He had only to say, " Mademoiselle, je desire 
 e*tudier les larmes," to see her raise her superb eyes 
 to heaven, and then large, pearl-like drops formed 
 near the lower eyelid, without the least diminution 
 of the eye's lustre, and slowly rolled down her placid 
 cheeks in perfect pear-like shape. And when lie 
 said, "Merci, Mademoiselle, c'est assez!" she do- 
 cilely wiped the last tear, and not another came; 
 there was no waste. ... At other times he was 
 almost broken-hearted ; his picture was the worst 
 rubbish ever painted ; he was a fool and a madman 
 ever to have fancied himself an artist; and in or- 
 der not to commit suicide, he went to see all the 
 new plays, of which he gave the most humorous 
 descriptions, he danced fantastic cotillons, and sent 
 charades to the " Figaro : " that was his way of 
 getting out of a fit of the "blues." But whatever 
 else he said, he hardly ever missed a reference to 
 his Christinas visit; and when the time came, it 
 was Olive's turn to show Toinette how to make 
 plum-pudding and mince-pies, and to decorate the 
 house with holly and evergreens. 
 
 When the family went to midnight Mass they
 
 132 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 had seats reserved in the organ-loft, because Hd- 
 leue would sing. Olive was deeply moved at the 
 sight of the long dim nave beneath her filled with 
 a crowd of worshippers humbly prosterned before 
 the Infant Redeemer. At the communion every 
 one, according to the old custom of Champignol, 
 knelt on the bare stone of the ancient cathedral, 
 the women wrapped in long muslin veils and hold- 
 ing the small lighted tapers which had myste- 
 riously revealed their procession when they came 
 back from the communion-table through the som- 
 bre, deserted aisles. Then the organ rolled its 
 waves of harmony under the lofty arches of the 
 vault, and subdued them again to sustain the melo- 
 dious voice which now sang : — 
 
 "Minuit, Chretien, c'est l'heure solennelle 
 Ou l'Homme-Dieu descendifc jusqu'k nous 
 Pour dlarcr la tarlic oriyi nolle 
 Et de son Pere arreter le courroux. 
 Le monde entier tressaille d'esperance 
 A cette nuit qui lui donne mi Sauveur. 
 Peuple; a genoux, attends ta delivrance, 
 Noel, Noel, void le R6dempteurl" 
 
 And the priests near the altar and every one in 
 the nave joined in the magnificent chorus, — 
 "Noel, Noel, void Le Re'dempteur ! " 
 
 " 1 v uoi re 1'oi, i[u<: la lumiere ardente, 
 Nous guide tona an berceau de 1'enfant, 
 Comme autrefois une etoile brillante 
 Y conduisit los chefs do 1' Orient.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 133 
 
 Le Roi cles Rois nait dans une humble creche, 
 Puissants du jour, fiers de votre grandeur, 
 A votre orgueil c'est de la cru'un Dieu preehe, 
 Courbez vos fronts devant le Redempteur ! 
 
 " Le Redempteur a brise toute entrave, 
 La terre est libre, et le ciel est ouvert ; 
 II voit mi frere oil n'etait qu'un esclave, 
 L'amour unit ceux qu'enchainait le fer. 
 Qui lui dira notre reconnaissance ? 
 C'est pour nous tous, cpi'il nait, qu'il souffre et meurt. 
 Peuple debout, chante ta delivrance, 
 Noel, Noel, chantons le Redempteur ! " 
 
 The ceremony is over; there is a clatter of 
 sabots and galoches on the porch, and long lines of 
 muffled-up people are vaguely seen by the flicker- 
 ing- light of their lanterns hastening home, — some 
 to a quiet bed, some to a merry revcillon. 
 
 " Good night, Madame Mold, how are you ? " 
 asks M. de Civray, bare-headed, at the church-door. 
 " I wish to thank Mademoiselle Helene for the 
 great pleasure she gave us all to-night." Then, 
 as He'lene bowed, lie added: "Very few eyes 
 remained dry while you sang that beautiful 
 Noel." 
 
 "I suppose most people feel the influence <>f 
 good music," answered Helene, " though few are 
 as sensitive as you. But pray, Monsieur, cover 
 your head, the wind is icy cold." 
 
 "You don't go back to the chateau to-night, M. 
 de Civray ? " asked Jean.
 
 134 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " Oh ! no ; I stop at the hotel. I only came 
 down to hear your sister sing at Mass." 
 
 A sudden impulse prompted Jean to say : 
 " Will you come and share our little reveillon, 
 Monsieur ? At any rate there will be a good lire 
 to warm us, and we need it." He had thought of 
 the dull, sad life at the chateau, and pitied the 
 owner; a little of the healthy cheerfulness of 
 youth would do him good. 
 
 " It will be with the greatest pleasure," answered 
 the Marquis, who offered his arm to Helene to 
 walk lio me. 
 
 Olive and Jean were in front, while H^lene 
 kept close to her father and mother, so that they 
 all talked together on the way. 
 
 They soon reached the house, and had scarcely 
 got to the entrance, when Olive was heard to 
 scream and Toinette to laugh heartily. The Mar- 
 quis and Hdlene stopped, wondering at the sight 
 of Jean deliberately kissing Olive, who struggled 
 to escape. 
 
 "I have not yet forgotten English customs," 
 Jean was saying. "Miss Olive, I caught you 
 under the mistletoe ! " 
 
 "That is not fair 1 " fried Olive, covered with 
 the prettiest blushes. " I did not know there was 
 any in the house;" and she hurried upstaira 
 
 As Madame Mnlr Looked seriously shucked, 
 Jean explained that in England when a lady
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 135 
 
 passed under a sprig of mistletoe she became lia- 
 ble to be kissed. Toinette, to whom the secret 
 was confided, had placed some of it according 
 to his directions during their absence, and had 
 watched the result. 
 
 They all laughed merrily when Olive came 
 down again, somewhat shamefaced, and darted 
 into the room like an arrow, for fear of another 
 surprise. 
 
 The presence of the Marquis did not in 
 the least damp Jean's gayety, and this gayety 
 proved so communicative that every one joined 
 in it. 
 
 The pdte-de-foies, the tarts, and the hot chest- 
 nuts disappeared among repeated peals of laugh- 
 ter. Toasts were proposed and responded to, and 
 even Madame Mold, who never tasted wine, was 
 compelled to put her lips to a glass of champagne 
 when her health was drunk. There was no resist- 
 ing her son's entrain. M. de Civray himself gave 
 way, and enjoyed fully the pleasant sensation of 
 mirthful excitement; his usual gravity melted 
 under the influence of Jean's fun and frolics to 
 such a point that while taking his leave he no- 
 ticed that HeTene, who held open the dining-room 
 door for him, was standing under the mistletoe. 
 Making good the opportunity, lie seized her hand 
 and kissed it respectfully, saying afterwards: "I 
 hope I may be excused for yielding partially to
 
 136 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 such a temptation, Mademoiselle ; your brother is 
 responsible for it." 
 
 When he was gone Olive reproachfully said to 
 Jean : " You see how much better behaved than 
 you M. de Civray is ; he contented himself with 
 kissing Hedene's fingers." 
 
 " Because lie had not the pluck to kiss her 
 cheek ! " laughed Jean. " I have chosen the best 
 part, and it shall not be taken from me." 
 
 On New Year's Day Olive, proud of her recently 
 acquired culinary skill, had prepared, under Toi- 
 nette's supervision, some pigeons d la crapaudine, 
 which were found excellent, and brought her a 
 great deal of praise ; but Jean, who never missed 
 an opportunity for teasing her, promised never to 
 breathe a word of it when he wrote to Pearce. 
 
 " Oh ! I don't care what he thinks about it," she 
 answered petulantly. " I know I am right to learn 
 while I can, and the time is but short ; when I go 
 back to my aunt the kitchen will be tabooed to 
 me." 
 
 "How do people manage in England when they 
 are not rich, I wonder?" asked Madame .Mole. 
 
 "Oh! I can tell you; they spend a great deal 
 more than they ought to do, it' they dared to lie 
 reasonable. Now, for instance, my cousin Henry 
 has no fortune, and spends everything he earns. 
 He is so generous to me that he won't hear of 
 my contributing to the household expenses ; he
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 137 
 
 only allows me to pay for my clothes. He says I 
 shall be glad to find some day the little I have, 
 and that my presence makes no difference. He 
 makes a regular allowance of three hundred pounds 
 a year to his mother, and is always obliged to add 
 more or less at the end ; for my aunt, with all her 
 endearing qualities, is not a good manager. You 
 must have noticed how easily embarrassed she is. 
 Sometimes she says to me : ' Eeally, Olive, we 
 spend a great deal of money, and yet I cannot see 
 that we are in the least extravagant ; it seems 
 impossible to do with less.' I answer that the 
 only extravagance is in keeping two maids. But 
 she maintains that her position requires at least 
 two ; and besides, Henry wishes things to be 
 decent when he comes, and occasionally brings 
 a friend with him." 
 
 " But supposing the case of your cousin's ill- 
 ness, your aunt would be placed in a very difficult 
 position," remarked Madame Mold 
 
 "Oh! I have often thought of it," answered 
 Olive, with great concern; " and I dare not think 
 of the possibility of his death; ... Of course I 
 can't speak of it to my poor aunt, but I can't help 
 being very anxious at times. If Henry were 
 taken ill, my small fortune might tide us on to 
 his recovery, provided it were n<>t a protracted 
 illness; that is a little comfort." 
 
 "You kind-hearted little dear:" said Madame
 
 138 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 Mold, giving her a kiss. " And what would you 
 do when your little fortune was gone ?" 
 
 " Oh ! Henry would keep me again if he could, 
 I have no doubt ; else I should try to find some 
 kind of employment." 
 
 " It must seem harder to be in reduced circum- 
 stances after living in luxury," said M. Mold. 
 
 " Yes," answered Olive ; " and now I see that 
 the worst of it is this : people never think they 
 live in luxury ; they fancy, as my aunt does, that 
 it is all necessary, having always been accustomed 
 to it." 
 
 " It must require very large incomes to provide 
 adequately for the children in England," continued 
 M. Mold. 
 
 " Well, I am afraid there is not much provision 
 made for them in many cases. Some of my 
 friends told me, on the point of marrying, that 
 they really did not know how to set up house, 
 their parents being unable to give them anything, 
 or what would prove quite insufficient, — and that 
 after being brought up in great comfort. Some of 
 them bad to live in lodgings until they were able 
 to furnish their house ; some accepted invitations 
 from their friends, ami remained as long as possi- 
 ble, to spare their own purse in order to buy the 
 first necessaries. I daresay it sounds very shock- 
 ing to French ears." 
 
 " I do think it a lamentable system," answered
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 139 
 
 M. Mole\ "And now I do not wonder at Mr. 
 Pearce considering marriage almost an impossi- 
 bility." 
 
 " Oh ! all young Englishmen say so till they are 
 in love," said Olive with a light laugh, " and then 
 they shut their eyes and take the leap. I must 
 say that they often repine afterwards, but just go 
 on like everybody else. I have known two Eng- 
 lishmen, — a barrister and a doctor, — earning two 
 thousand pounds a year each, and never putting 
 anything by. I heard them say it was dreadful 
 to think what would become of their wives and 
 children if they were to die suddenly ; but they 
 could not put a stop to any of the running 
 expenses." 
 
 "At any rate, my little Olive, your eyes are 
 open, and you will not fall into the same errors," 
 said Madame Mole'. 
 
 " Wiser heads than mine have found it impossi- 
 ble to resist the tyranny of public opinion ; a good 
 many English people go to live abroad now to 
 escape from it." 
 
 " Then when you are married you must per- 
 suade your husband that it is possible to live in 
 France with less than fifty thousand francs a year, 
 and bring him to settle near us." 
 
 "Oh! Olive would not like to live always in 
 France. It must be hard, T think, to abandon 
 one's country," remarked Hellene.
 
 140 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " I suppose it must be," answered Olive. " But 
 now I should think it unbearable to be told that I 
 was never to come to France again. I feel half 
 English and half French." 
 
 " It makes a very nice mixture, I am sure," 
 said Jean. 
 
 " Henry is quite right when he says that you 
 can't be serious for long ! " remonstrated Olive. 
 
 " But I am quite serious now, and to prove it, I 
 intend to earn a great deal of money and to be 
 very economical. . . . Will that convince you ? " 
 
 "When I see it, perhaps !" 
 
 They were interrupted by Toinette bringing a 
 parcel and the card of M. le Marquis Hector de 
 Civray de Champignol. It was addressed to Ma- 
 dame Mold, and contained a pretty Japanese box 
 of chocolats-d-la-creme for herself, and two lovely 
 baskets of bonbons for the girls. Olive was de- 
 lighted ; would it not give her a certain impor- 
 tance in the eyes of her cousin and aunt to hear 
 that a Marquis had sent her a present with his 
 respectueux Iwrnmagcs? Sin; immediately wrote to 
 Mrs. Pearce and artfully inserted her news in a 
 little innocent-looking paragraph, devoid of reflec- 
 tion or comment, to make it appear as it' she were 
 quite accustomed to such things, and considered 
 them as a matter of course.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 1-tl 
 
 X. 
 
 New Year's Day was kept as a fete at the Cha- 
 teau de Champignol, as in every other French 
 house. Good wishes were exchanged, presents 
 •offered, gratuities distributed to the servants and 
 to all the needy who came as far as the chateau. 
 But instead of the gifts being given by Madame la 
 Marquise, they were this year handed to every 
 receiver by the Marquis, his mother being un- 
 well. With their thanks the domestics wished 
 their master " une bonne annde ; une parfaite sante*, 
 et le Paradis a la fin de ses jours," and begged 
 that the same wish might be conveyed to their 
 mistress. 
 
 Madame de Civray had been ailing for some 
 time; she was now better, but not yet strong 
 enough to leave her apartment, and she received 
 her son in her private boudoir when he came to 
 wish her a happy New Year, lie had brought 
 her as li is present a magnificent piece of old lace. 
 It had been waited for, and at last secured fur the 
 Marquis by an expert, who knew that it would be 
 worth his trouble to get it at any cost.
 
 142 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 "This is truly superb!" exclaimed Madame 
 de Civray, spreading the lace on a dark velvet 
 cushion to see all the details of the design ; " the 
 variety of stitches is prodigious, and the point per- 
 fect. It is a treasure to add to my collection of 
 old laces. ... Sit down, Hector, and don't get 
 impatient if I ask you again when it is that I may 
 adorn a younger woman than myself with my 
 jewels and laces ? Everybody oilers wishes to- 
 day ; mine for you, for our house, and our name, is 
 a Marquise de Champignol worthy of the position ■ 
 you can give her." 
 
 "It is difficult to find such a one." 
 
 " But not impossible. AVill you let me seek, 
 and I promise you that it will not be in 
 vain." 
 
 " You know that I have no wish to marry." 
 
 "You tell me so year after year, and perhaps 
 you think so. But it can't be that you desire to 
 live always alone, childless ! Think what a dif- 
 ference your marriage would make here ! . . . I 
 know, I feel, how dull, how joyless your existence 
 is now." 
 
 " I don't complain." 
 
 " No, you do not. But would you not be cheered 
 by the presence and affection of a young wife ? 
 She would bring her friends here, and the chateau 
 would be no longer silent and deserted. You 
 would go with her among your equals, and take
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 143 
 
 your proper place in the world as the head of one 
 of the most noble families of France." 
 
 " I can only repeat that I have not the slightest 
 desire for a change of existence. I assure you 1 
 am tolerably happy, — as happy, I believe, as most 
 people ; and I beg you not to distress yourself 
 about me." He got up, kissed his mother's fore- 
 head as if he were leaving her. But she got up 
 too. Taking hold of his hands and looking gravely 
 into his eyes, she said, — 
 
 " Don't go away yet ; I see that I must speak 
 seriously. I have told you hitherto that I thought 
 a marriage desirable for you, and you have treated 
 the matter lightly. I say now that it is your duty 
 to marry." 
 
 " I cannot see that, and I do not acknowledge 
 the duty," he answered firmly. 
 
 " But you must acknowledge it, and you must 
 fulfil it ! ... Is our house, founded more than 
 six centuries ago, to perish with you, under my 
 eyes ? . . . " 
 
 " My health, bodily and mental, is not in such a 
 satisfactory state as to prompt me to marry," he 
 answered sadly. "Be sure that my reasons for 
 remaining single are only too weighty." 
 
 'Your bodily strength allows you to lead the 
 ordinary life of a nobleman, my dear Hector. It 
 may be that you should wish to be stronger : but 
 whoever is satisfied with his health ? ... As to
 
 144 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 your mental state, you refuse to improve it ; every 
 one would become an easy prey to melancholy 
 fancies who secluded himself as you have done of 
 late. Your reasons are groundless." 
 
 Madame de Champignol had so placed herself 
 that she stood between her son and the door. He 
 saw that no exit was left him, and his brow dark- 
 ened and his lips quivered with suppressed anger, 
 but he said nothing. 
 
 " Hector," continued his mother, " must I again 
 insist upon your duty ? . . . You answer me now 
 that your health is not satisfactory, and later, if I 
 live, you will say that you are no longer young 
 enough. I do not accept these answers. If you 
 have a plausible one, give it me ; otherwise I must 
 and I will show you that you have no right to put 
 an end to your glorious race." Her accent was 
 dignified and persuasive; but the features of the 
 Marquis did not relax. 
 
 " Do not ask me for the real reason, ma mere : 
 you know it, and it is better to avoid painful 
 subjects." 
 
 "But I demand to know this reason; it may 
 not be so potent as you imagine." Then she sat 
 in her armchair upright, as if prepared to meet 
 the worst. 
 
 "Remember that you force me to speak," slowly 
 said the Marquis, "and that I wished to spare 
 you." As she made no sign and did not speak, he
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 145 
 
 proceeded faster and lower : " The reason why I 
 won't marry is this : I think it is far better that 
 our name and our house should perish than be 
 continued as they are now by poor victims of aris- 
 tocratic pride. Why should I inflict upon inno- 
 cent children the infirmities of our great house ? 
 Why perpetuate the shameful imbecility which 
 has been sent as a portent to our ancient race, 
 now drained of its generous sap ? . . . Let it per- 
 ish before its degradation becomes the natural 
 heirloom of its descendants, before the present 
 misery effaces the glorious past." He was now 
 strongly excited and extremely pale. 
 
 " You, at least, have no right to speak in this 
 manner, Hector, you who escaped ! You ought to 
 be thankful, instead of rebellious." 
 
 "Thankful! . . . thankful for an enfeebled body, 
 and perhaps worse than enfeebled mind ! Non, ma 
 mere, I am not thankful; I wish I had never been 
 born." 
 
 " You accuse me, then," sobbed Madame de Civ- 
 ray. " Oh ! this is cruel ! . . . " and she buried her 
 face in her hands. 
 
 " I deeply regret to have been driven to it. I 
 do not accuse you ; I merely state a hard fact, and 
 I hope I am not unjust." 
 
 "But you are unjust, most unjust!" passion- 
 ately retorted Madame de Civray. " Can you for 
 a moment suppose that T chose the kind of life I 
 
 10
 
 146 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 have had out of selfish motives ? I was young, 
 handsome, and of noble lineage when I married 
 your father, who was deaf and dumb. Do you 
 think the prospect was alluring, and that I ex- 
 pected perfect happiness ? " 
 
 " No ; and I have always wondered what decided 
 
 you." 
 
 " Duty ! . . . My family, though noble, was 
 poor, and we were several children. How could 
 they keep their rank in the world ? Being the 
 eldest, I was bound to help them. I would not 
 stoop to anything that was not perfectly honorable, 
 and when the Marquis de Civray proposed, I saw 
 that by sacrificing myself I might be the means of 
 raising the fortune of my own family and of res- 
 cuing from a dire calamity that which sought my 
 alliance. And if I did not succeed entirely, at 
 least I thought my sacrifice well rewarded when 
 my sisters and brothers resumed the position 
 to which their name entitled them, and when your 
 father blessed me out of gratitude at your birth." 
 
 " I know how grateful my father was for your 
 abnegation ; and believe me, all your children feel 
 the same towards you." 
 
 " I trust it is so. But my task is not over, and 
 I have to convince you that your fears for the 
 future of your children are mere phantoms. Why 
 should they be infirm if both their parents are 
 healthy? ..."
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 147 
 
 "Surely you are aware that heredity is often 
 traced further off." 
 
 " Then nobody would dare to marry, according 
 to such a theory, for fear of the past. . . . We will 
 find a girl whose health may bear the most minute 
 scrutiny." 
 
 " Where can we find such a girl willing to risk 
 such fearful odds for her children, and willing to 
 accept such a life as we can offer here ? You 
 know me too well to think that I should abandon 
 my sisters and brothers to their loneliness." 
 
 " I repeat, give me leave to seek, and I shall find. 
 We do not ask fur any fortune, our house is suffi- 
 ciently wealthy ; and I think any girl might be 
 proud of the name you have to offer. There are 
 not wanting in the aristocracy noble and ruined 
 families who would be very happy to secure such 
 an establishment for their daughters." 
 
 " I suppose, then, that my wife could not be 
 chosen out of the aristocracy ? " asked the Mar- 
 quis in a light, sardonic tone, so different from his 
 usual manner that his mother looked up in aston- 
 ishment. 
 
 "Of course," she answered, somewhat nettled; 
 "les Civray de Champignol do not usually many 
 in the rotun ." 
 
 "Not usually ; but if one of them wished to do 
 so, let us say, would not the title he could bestow 
 upon his wife well cover the mesalliance?"
 
 148 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " Hector, I don't know what makes yon take a 
 faux-fuyant now, after appearing almost persuaded. 
 If you are jesting," she added, rising solemnly, " it 
 is unbecoming ; if you are serious, let me remind 
 you that all my past has been devoted to the up- 
 holding of our house, and that to the last beating 
 of my pulse I shall defend it, — were it against 
 my own children." 
 
 " In that case let me go, ma mhre ; for all your 
 entreaties would only frustrate your wishes if you 
 convinced me that I ought to marry. Once for all, I 
 tell you that the only woman I have ever loved, 
 and the only one that I would marry if she ac- 
 cepted me, is a roturihre. She is not aware of my 
 love, and very likely she never will be, as I am 
 anxious to spare her the insult of your opposition. 
 Perhaps you wonder at this confidence ; but it is 
 not unnecessary. I am too respectful of your 
 wishes ever to go against them, — except, indeed, if 
 the systematic torture to which I have been sub- 
 jected were renewed. If ever I am pressed again 
 to marry, I will do so, — according to my inclina- 
 tion." He bowed stiffly and went away, this time 
 without opposition. 
 
 Left to herself, Madame de Civray was aware 
 that all her hopes had been shattered forever. To 
 go against such an indomitable will as that of her 
 son would be worse than useless, it might be dan- 
 gerous. She remained pondering over his words
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 149 
 
 with rising anger and indignation. "The Mar- 
 quis Hector de Civray de Champignol in love with 
 a roturib'e ! ready for a mesalliance ! " she repeated 
 to herself. Who could have suspected such an 
 enormity ? . . . He had always shown a proper 
 appreciation of his title, and was every inch a 
 marquis in all circumstances and with every one ; 
 he showed himself courteous, but never allowed it 
 to be forgotten that he was aware of his superior 
 position. Herself, so punctilious on all points of 
 etiquette, had never found anything to blame or 
 criticise in her son's bearing ; his tastes were not 
 low, neither was he tainted by radicalism ; she 
 had never heard of any love affairs or light in- 
 trigues associated with his name. ... It was a 
 mystery ! . . . Could it be that he only wished to 
 escape from her pressing solicitations by frighten- 
 ing her? No; there was that in his tone which 
 could not be misunderstood. He had told the truth, 
 and all her hopes for the future of her house were 
 shattered forever ; she would never authorize an 
 unequal marriage in the family. Then she thought 
 of consulting her old and trusted friend, M. Mole* ; 
 he had so often wisely advised her: what made 
 her hesitate this time ? . . . Was it possible that 
 her son should be in love with Helene? ... Oh ! 
 the idea was ridiculous. Helene was a little mod- 
 est, retiring girl, who knew perfectly the distance 
 which separated her from Hector de Civray. She
 
 150 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 was very clever too, and not at all the sort of de- 
 signing woman who must have used her guiles to 
 entrap a marquis. She was very, very handsome, 
 it is true ; but instead of pushing her way and 
 making the most of Irene's friendship, she could 
 hardly be persuaded to come to the chateau now, 
 and Irene complained of her long absence. All at 
 once Madame de Civray remembered that she had 
 heard of a lovely English girl staying with Ma- 
 dame Mold. Hector himself had spoken of her 
 golden hair and dazzling complexion, and he had 
 often of late left orders for the sending of flowers 
 and fruit to M. Mold's house ; no doubt he must 
 have fallen in love with the English girl : they 
 were such flirts ! Iso wonder Madame la Mar- 
 quise thought that she would like to see this girl ; 
 but how ? Although she sometimes invited M. 
 Mold and his daughter to the chateau, she never 
 called upon them : it was one of her points of eti- 
 quette ; and she further thought that in order to 
 judge of her son's sentiments she would have to 
 see him and this girl together. How was this 
 to be achieved? ... At last she decided to write 
 a little note t<> Helene, in which she would com- 
 plain, in the name of Irene, of her prolonged ab- 
 sence, and would request her t<> come to dejeuner 
 and spend the afternoon at the chateau, with ber 
 father and the friend who was now Staying with 
 her, as soon as convenient; she left it to her to 
 name the day.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 151 
 
 Hdlene, who felt some twinges of conscience 
 about lier neglect of Irene de Civray, was for accept- 
 ing the invitation at an earlv date, offering at the 
 same time to excuse Olive if she was at all 
 nervous at the idea of meeting with four deaf- 
 and-dumb persons. But Olive's curiosity was 
 awakened, and she felt also immensely flattered, 
 though little suspecting she was the one whom 
 Madame de Civray most particularly wished to 
 see. 
 
 The day was fixed ; and as it turned out frosty, 
 M. Mold and the girls wrapped themselves very 
 warmly in furs and rugs, and started early for the 
 chateau. Olive's sensations were very different 
 from what they had been on her first visit; it 
 must be admitted that her heart beat more quickly 
 when she thought that she would have to speak to 
 Madame de Civray, and to behave under the 
 abnormal circumstances in which she would find 
 herself, as if she were accustomed to it. 
 
 The drive was enlivened, as usual, by M. 
 Mold's talk and interesting observations. He told 
 some quaint legends in which the peasants still 
 firmly believe, and showed Olive the entrance to 
 the cavern in which la Vivre hides her treasures 
 and whence she issues but once a year, at mid- 
 night, to go and drink in the river, leaving the 
 cavern open to tempt mortals to the peril of their 
 lives ; for, once in the midst of the dazzling heaps
 
 1,52 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 * 
 
 of gold and precious stones, they cannot tear them- 
 selves from the sight, and are devoured when the 
 monster comes back. 
 
 It was very near eleven o'clock when they ar- 
 rived at the chateau. Madame la Marquise was 
 alone in the petit salon, and received her guests 
 with her usual dignified affability. Mademoiselle 
 Irene soon came in, shook hands warmly with her 
 old friend M. Mold, bowed gracefully to Olive, 
 and with a beaming expression of countenance 
 kissed Helene on both cheeks and rapidly be- 
 gan to exchange signs with her. Madame de 
 Civray's attention was concentrated upon Olive. 
 She made her talk, and her suspicions were soon 
 disarmed by the artless ingtiiuite of the charming 
 girl. 
 
 The bell rang ; the Marquis Hector came in and 
 preceded his brother and two sisters by only a 
 few minutes. He offered his arm to Helene, while 
 M. Mole" walked by the side of Madame de Civ- 
 ray ; and poor Olive wondered what was to become 
 of her, when M. Hugues de Civray advanced 
 towards her, and with a solemn bow led her into 
 the dining-room, the three daughters of the house 
 following in the rear. 
 
 It was only a short distance which separated 
 the petit salon from the breakfast-room, but Olive 
 thought it immeasurably long ; she dared not look 
 at her partner, and she was aware of his closest
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 153 
 
 attention. A few other persons were already as- 
 sembled round the table, and the hope that they 
 were neither deaf nor dumb afforded some degree 
 of relief to Olive; there were the avmonier, two 
 secretaries, a demoiselle-de-compagnie, and two 
 governesses. 
 
 The aiimvnier said the Beuedicite, and every 
 one sat down after Madame la Marquise. Luckily 
 for Olive, she was placed between Hugues de Civ- 
 ray and the avmonier, and she could talk with 
 the latter. The hostess also frequently addressed 
 her, and watched her son when she answered ; but 
 it was impossible to detect the slightest sign of 
 intimacy between the two. Olive felt horribly ill 
 at ease under the intent and searching eyes of the 
 dumb inmates of the place ; the eager attention 
 they evidently gave to all that went on, in the 
 hope of understanding something, embarrassed 
 her, the quick motions of their ringers bewildered 
 her, and the unnatural noiselessness of so numer- 
 ous a company almost unnerved her. She hardly 
 ate anything, she could not swallow, and felt in 
 fearful dread of choking. When Hugues de 
 Civray silently offered her something with his 
 watchful and expressive look, she was always on 
 the point of thanking him aloud, and then had to 
 check herself and to bow. One thing nearly 
 proved too much for her: it was the unearthly, 
 guttural, almost wild laugh of the youngest daugh-
 
 154 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 ter ; she had never heard anything like it, and 
 when it broke out at an anecdote that He'leue was 
 relating by sign, Olive was so startled that she 
 bewail to tremble uncontrollablv, and turned cold 
 all over. How she envied Helene's composure, 
 which enabled her to turn from the animated 
 gesticulation of Irene to the calm talk of la Mar- 
 quise with the same easy presence of mind. 
 
 Dejeuner was over in little more than half an 
 hour, and Olive regained some composure while 
 the aunwnier said les grdces. She was conducted 
 back to the salon, where coffee was immediately 
 served and where she was soon left with Madame 
 de Civray, M. Mold, and the Marquis. Irene had 
 carried off He'leue to have her to herself, and 
 H utmes and his sisters had retired. This was the 
 opportunity sought by Madame de Civray to watch 
 her son and Olive together ; but he merely showed 
 his usual haughty politeness, and the girl replied 
 with a degree of bashful reserve which was a con- 
 vincing proof of the inanity of her suspicions, lie- 
 proachiug herself for having wronged this lovely 
 child, though it was only in thought, la Marquise 
 was very gracious to atone. She; took Olive to the 
 hothouse and vulierc, where many exotic birds 
 could be admired, and contrived to make that part 
 of the visit pleasant enough. Indeed, Olive might 
 have enjoyed it thoroughly, had it not been for 
 her constant dread of meeting again with some of
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 155 
 
 the dumb persons. This was spared her, and she 
 felt a sensation of happy deliverance when she 
 jumped into the break that took her away. Once 
 outside of the gates, she breathed deeply several 
 times, wiped her eyes, shuddered a little, and press- 
 ing herself close to He'lene, she murmured : " Oh, 
 Hdleue, I hope you will never be Marquise de 
 Civray ! "
 
 156 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 XL 
 
 Appjl had come round again and brought Jean 
 at Easter. He was so happy to be in the coun- 
 try, he said, that everything was a pleasure to 
 him, and he always wanted somebody to share it 
 with him. In the morning he called Olive and 
 his sister to look at the snowdrops and crocuses 
 peeping out of their moss-beds all a-glitter with 
 the sunlit dew. Then he would take a book of 
 poems out of his pocket and select some particu- 
 larly beautiful passage that he read aloud to them 
 as they slowly walked under the perfect purity of 
 a spring sky, with the delicate tracery of leafless, 
 red-tipped branches detached upon it. In the 
 afternoon he idly lingered in the old salon, warmed 
 by a smouldering fire in the large chimney and 
 the dancing rays of the sun darting through the 
 widely open windows, to be lulled to dream by 
 the girls' music. Later mi lie went out, often 
 witli his father, his sister, and Olive, to see the 
 river with its moving islands of white ranunculus, 
 guarded by the green lances of the iris ; and they 
 came back under the lengthening shadows of the
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 157 
 
 rampart towers. And all that time he was singing 
 the song of happiness in words or looks. 
 
 Just then Mrs. Pearce's letters became very- 
 pressing about the fultilment of the promise given 
 by M. Mold to bring back her niece. There was, 
 of course, no withdrawing it. Jean had suddenly 
 become eulmhtened about the benefit that he 
 would derive from studying the pictures in the 
 Academy ; and as he was rid of Jephtha's Daugh- 
 ter for the Salon, he thought lie might as well 
 accompany his father. M. Mole offered no op- 
 position, and they all began to prepare for their 
 journey, Jean recommending his sister to take 
 some " finery " with her, because they were sure 
 to receive several invitations. She might have 
 been rather embarrassed, not knowing exactly 
 what would be expected ; but Olive came to her 
 help with previous experience, and before the end 
 of the month they were ready for starting. 
 
 Such worldly proceedings were far removed from 
 the utmost that Madame Mold could concede to 
 social duties, and it was decided that while her 
 husband, son, and daughter were away from home 
 she should go for a retreat to the cloistered convenl 
 of Ste. Pacifique to pray for their welfare and do 
 penance for her own sins. 
 
 "Oh! Mademoiselle Olive," said Toinette, a 
 short time before the departure, "I can't bring 
 myself to think that they will come back without
 
 158 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 you. ... It seems to me as if you really were 
 one of the family." 
 
 " I am sure you have spoilt me as much as if I 
 were," answered the girl with a pretty blush. 
 
 " I hope that you '11 come again for the vaca- 
 tions." 
 
 " I shall try my very best; but of course it's for 
 my aunt to decide, — or rather, my cousin." 
 
 " Don't forget, Ce que femme veut, Dicu le veut." 
 
 " No fear of my forgetting it," laughed Olive. 
 
 It was agreed that M. Mole - .should stop a short 
 time in Paris, and on the first day of his arrival 
 he went to see Madame Ledoyen with Olive, his 
 son, and his daughter. They found her very weak 
 and altered, and very sad, in spite of her attempts 
 to conceal it. 
 
 The news of her son were good, she said. His 
 voyage had been all that could be desired ; but 
 instead of stopping frequently on his way, as he 
 had done previously, ho had gone straight to his 
 place of business, and had settled as comfortably 
 as circumstances allowed. Being there for a long 
 time, he had quite a luxurious establishment, — a 
 wooden hut all to himself as chief engineer, a 
 real bed with linen sheets, and even a small book- 
 case. He, had also ;i trusty man-servant, who, if he 
 did very little else, at least kept the revolvers in a 
 perfect state and the bowie-knives well sharpened, 
 in ease of visits from plundering rascals, who were
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 159 
 
 more numerous than one would wish in the dia- 
 mond mines. His best company was his dog 
 Pacha, whom he had taken away with him and to 
 whom he talked of the past. He wrote very regu- 
 larly by every mail, never forgetting to inquire 
 about all his friends ; and she, on her part, never 
 failed to answer, for he had written that if a 
 packet came without a letter from her, he should 
 think she was ill and should embark immediately. 
 She sent him some of the best new books as they 
 came out, and they were received with the great- 
 est pleasure. His health was good. 
 
 Such was the short account Madame Ledoyen 
 save of her son's new kind of existence. She said 
 nothing of broken hopes and regrets, nothing of 
 her own lonely life. But to Hellene there was a 
 sort of silent reproach in the darkened rooms and 
 cold hearths, in the too-perfect tidiness of every- 
 thing, in the silent, empty-looking, changed, 
 though familiar, place. Madame Ledoyen showed 
 her visitors, not without pride, the heavy carved 
 coffers, the delicately inlaid cabinets, the soft 
 and thick carpets brought by her son from differ- 
 ent parts of India. "He himself placed them 
 as they are when he hoped to remain licit'," she 
 said. 
 
 " And he will find them again when he comes 
 back, bavin- lost nothing in your keeping," cheer- 
 ily answered M. Mole\ "Three years pass rapidly
 
 160 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 enough at your time of life, Madame Ledoyen. 
 After the first half you '11 be hoping for his return, 
 if something does not make him come sooner." 
 
 Madame Ledoyen shook her head and sighed 
 involuntarily, and with a faint smile she said she 
 hoped they would all come to dine with her soon. 
 But they excused themselves on the shortness of 
 their stay, and she did not insist. 
 
 He"leue all the time was suffering intensely ; 
 she would have been thankful to be left alone to 
 relieve her heartache by unchecked tears. For it 
 was not only sympathy with the meek resigna- 
 tion and wearied looks of the mother that she 
 felt ; had she not herself loved Maxime dearly, 
 and was she not deprived of his friendship now ? 
 Was there no real affection in the world besides 
 love ? And was not the absence of such a friend 
 as Maxime painful to her as to his mother? Why 
 could they not grieve together ? . . . No ; it could 
 not be. Madame Ledoyen would not understand 
 how it Mas possible to have affectionate feelings 
 towards her son and yet to let him go away. Hdlene 
 strove to stifle the sharp pangs of her regrets and 
 to hide them; but the prolongation of such a visit 
 was becoming a torture, and with a sort of tacit 
 understanding it was made short. 
 
 Tin- Salon being open, .lean's pictures were to 
 be seen, before everything else. He had two, — 
 Li large Jephtha's Daughter, to attract the atten-
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 1G1 
 
 tion of the jury, and a much smaller one, of a 
 pretty English girl walking by the side of her old 
 grandfather on the sea-shore. The color and sen- 
 timent of both were very remarkable, and attracted 
 considerable notice. Jean received a good many 
 congratulations as he walked from room to room. 
 Olive heard two important-looking gentlemen, 
 with red ribbons in their button-holes, say, as they 
 were standing before the pictures, that the large 
 one would certainly win a medal for the author. 
 With flushed face and exulting look she hastened 
 to repeat what she had heard to M. Mol£, and 
 they all began to entertain some hope that it 
 might turn out so, when the illustrated news- 
 papers reproduced Jephtha's Daughter as one of 
 the most important and promising pictures of the 
 Salon. This put Jean in excellent spirits, — or 
 rather heightened the excellent spirits he possessed, 
 and made him a delightful companion for the journey. 
 
 He'lene had been very impatient to see England 
 and to become acquainted with Engl ish life. When 
 she reached Dover her first impression was one of 
 unmingled pleasure. 
 
 The day was fair, ami the white cliffs and the 
 green sea made a perfect harmony of colors in the 
 slightly hazy atmosphere. The walk on the beach 
 and in the town, with a keen, invigorating brei 
 was thought charming, and dinner was welcome 
 after it. 
 
 n
 
 162 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " What will you drink, Hedene ? — you don't 
 like beer," asked Jean. " Claret in England is often 
 bad, and always dear." 
 
 " Oh ! I can drink water. . . . What strange soup 
 is this, with bits of meat and bones swimming 
 about ? " 
 
 " I can't tell its name," replied M. Mole\ be- 
 tween short intervals of coughing ; " but I should 
 recommend you not to taste it, it 's fearfully pep- 
 pered.- . . . What ! Jean, are you able to swallow 
 it?" 
 
 " Oh ! pepper and I have become intimately ac- 
 quainted during my stay in England," answered 
 Jean with a laugh ; " the only effect an over-dose 
 produces upon me is to make me squint horribly." 
 
 Olive and Hedene broke into a lit of laughter. 
 " I wondered," gasped the former, " whether }'ou 
 had been suddenly struck with strabism." And 
 the laughter became irresistible when it was ascer- 
 tained that Jean could not force both his eyes to 
 look in the same direction for some time. 
 
 As usual at seaside hotels, soles and whitings 
 were the only fish to be had, so soles were chosen, 
 and Jean praised the use of Worcester sauce 
 or Lazenby as an accompanying condiment. M. 
 Mole* ventured upon ever so small a quantity, and 
 declared it capital, llelene was satisfied with 
 lemon, and did not think it safe to go through so 
 many experiments at once; still, in spite of her
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 163 
 
 caution, she fell a victim to the unsuspected snare 
 of scraped horse-radish served with her slice of 
 roast-beef. She ate it, unaware of its power, and 
 immediately her temples and forehead were pearled 
 with tiny drops of perspiration, which soon covered 
 all her face, to the roots of her hair ; and with a 
 trembling, moist hand, she helped herself to a full 
 tumbler of water, which she swallowed hurriedly. 
 
 " Now what is the matter with Ildlene ?" anx- 
 iously asked her father, who had just observed the 
 strange expression of her countenance. " She does 
 not squint, like Jean, so it 's not the pepper." 
 
 " Oh, it 's far worse ! . . ." exclaimed He'lene. 
 " And vet it looked innocent enough : I took it for 
 celery ; " and she had to drink another tumbler of 
 water. 
 
 "It's one of the numerous sly devices of the 
 English to astonish the foreigners," said Jean ; 
 "they choose our mouths as the proper place to 
 explode their fireworks in, — at least that was my 
 impression when I came over for the first time." 
 
 " Now you should protect your sister against 
 such surprises, instead of laughing at her," remon- 
 strated Olive; "and since you don't, I '11 watch 
 over her." 
 
 " I am willing to abdicate my protectorate in 
 such matters in your favor," answered Jean ; " but 
 at the same time you will bear the responsibility." 
 
 The vegetables were declared watery and taste-
 
 1(34 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 less, the pudding excellent, the glass of port-wine 
 quite acceptable after so many tumblers of Mater, 
 and the dinner ended without any other incident. 
 
 The girls had asked for a double-bedded room, 
 and Olive was exceedingly amused by her friend's 
 interest and curiosity. 
 
 " What a delightfully clean and fresh room 
 this is !" was Hedene's first exclamation. "Every- 
 thing is snowy white ! . . . And what a peculiar 
 healthy smell, so unlike that of a French hotel ! 
 All! it conies from the soap on the washstands 
 aud from the towels. I see they use a different kind 
 of soap for washing linen in England. How roomy 
 and convenient the place is altogether ! " Then her 
 eyes caught the Bible on the mantelpiece and the 
 decorated religious sentences on the wall, and she 
 told Olive that she had never realized how great 
 could be the difference between French and Eng- 
 lish habits. "I had never thought that everything 
 would be different," she continued, — "the forms of 
 chairs and tables; the length and breath of nap- 
 kins and toilet-towels; the size of ewers and 
 plates; of knives and washing-basins; the way to 
 fasten up curtains; the making of a bed; and so 
 on, from the general aspect to the minutest detail." 
 
 "Wait till you are in London, to be surprised," 
 answered Olive. " However, I am anxious to know 
 already if you are pleased with the change." 
 
 " Pleased ? . . . I am deliyhted ! — not so much
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 165 
 
 with the cookery, though ; but I suppose it re- 
 quires some time to get accustomed to it. . . . 
 Ah ! how funny are these little narrow pillows," 
 she exclaimed as she got into bed. " That again 
 requires some initiation to use them properly, 
 for they must be tumbling off or rolling about 
 constantly." 
 
 "They are much smaller than your big square 
 French pillows, and you can only rest your head 
 upon them, instead of comfortably supporting your 
 back and shoulders," answered Olive ; " but do as 
 I learned to do for myself. I put one above the 
 other, close together, and I try not to move too 
 much ; so now, whether I disturb them or not, I 
 am sure to sleep soundly, for I don't exactly know 
 what I say already." 
 
 "Good-night, then! . . . Oh, dear ! how pleas- 
 ant is the smell of the sheets, and how soft they 
 are ! . . . I suppose they iron them in England, 
 don't they ? . . ." But as no answer came, Hd- 
 lene fell asleep too. 
 
 Kew was reached the following evening without 
 stoppage in London. Mrs. Pearce looked very 
 happy to see her niece again, in spite of the extra 
 trouble which would be the result of having to 
 entertain her friends; for in spite of M. Mold's 
 insistence for going into lodgings, it had been * I * * — 
 cided by Pearce and his mother that he should 
 stay at " Daisy Lodge " with Jean and Hdlene.
 
 166 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 A great many questions were asked and an- 
 swered on both sides, and Olive, with her charming 
 impulsiveness, sprang from her chair again and 
 again to kiss her aunt, who forgot to remonstrate, 
 being more moved than she chose to show. As 
 to Pearce, he greeted his friends with his usual 
 formal politeness, which did not exclude an ex- 
 pression of real pleasure upon his handsome face. 
 Hedene held out her hand to him with a beating 
 heart and wistful look in her soft gray eyes ; but 
 he merely shook it a Vanglaisc, and let it go to 
 shake that of Jean more vigorously. 
 
 " I suppose you have had news of Madame 
 Mole* on your way ? " asked Mrs. Pearce. 
 
 " I am sorry to say that we shall be deprived of 
 her letters for some time to come," M. Mold ex- 
 plained. " My wife is en rdraitc, and while in the 
 convent she has to submit to the rules of the 
 sisterhood just as if she were a member of it ; in 
 fact, she is a cloistered nun for the time, and as 
 such can neither write nor receive letters." 
 
 " Indeed !" said Mrs. IVaive ; and she hastened 
 to add, " It's only fur a few days, I suppose ?" 
 
 " Twenty-one," was the answer. 
 
 Although she Mattered herself that she knew 
 something of Madame Mule, Mrs. Pearce was as- 
 tounded by the idea that a good wife ami a tender 
 mother could choose, of her mui free will, to re- 
 main for such a space of time as three long weeks
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 167 
 
 without news of husband and children, particu- 
 larly when they were travelling ; and she could not 
 help asking again : " Of course the rules would 
 not stand if anything of importance had to be 
 conveyed ? " 
 
 " The rules cannot be broken, even in case of 
 death ; but the authority of the Superioress can 
 mitigate their severity," replied M. Mold. 
 
 "Even so, these rules appear to me terribly 
 hard," remarked Pearce. 
 
 " But nobody is obliged to court this severity, 
 you know," M. Mold answered. " If the rules al- 
 lowed the invasion of earthly interests into the 
 convent, there would be no security in the peace 
 they offer to the weary souls who seek their 
 protection." 
 
 " So he approves of his wife's decision," thought 
 Mrs. Pearce ; " the French are unaccountable ! " 
 
 Tea had been brought, meanwhile, for the re- 
 freshment of the travellers, and Hdlene was very 
 much interested by the appearance of the spruce 
 and consciously pretty maid who brought in the 
 tray. Her diminutive muslin apron, the bit of lace 
 standing in lieu of cap on the hair, whose curly 
 fringe hid the forehead, the elaborate trimming of 
 her dress in the last fashion, surprised Made- 
 moiselle Mold considerably. " I suppose this is a 
 new maid?" she asked of Olive when they had 
 gone up to the room they were to share ; "she did 
 not seem to know you."
 
 168 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 There was a knock at the door before Olive had 
 time to answer ; it was the spruce maid with a can 
 of hot water. She curtseyed, and casting down 
 her anything but timid eyes, said: "I hope I see 
 you well, Miss, after your long journey ! " 
 
 " Thank you, Maria, I am very well. I am glad 
 to find you still here." 
 
 "Very much obliged, Miss." Another curtsey, 
 and Maria was gone. 
 
 " You see that we are old acquaintances, now, 
 don't you ? " said Olive, with a laugh at the per- 
 plexed look of He'lene. "I daresay next time I 
 go to Champignol, Toinette is capable of kissing 
 me on both cheeks. Would not Henry be trans- 
 fixed at the sight ! . . . as you are now." 
 
 "Oh ! I don't think Toinette would be so free as 
 that," answered Helene, who noticed that the con- 
 tents of the handbags had already been carefully 
 spread out for use ; " neither would she dream of 
 getting everything ready for us, as it is here." 
 
 " But do you know, He'lene, that I already regret 
 Toinette? I can help myself now; and 1 like to 
 feel surrounded with affection." 
 
 " I shall tell that to Toinette, and it will make 
 her very proud to have been remembered." 
 
 New wonders were in store for He'lene. The 
 fine damask of the table-linen, the quantity of 
 massive silver, the absolutely noiseless service of 
 the maids, the brilliantly lighted rooms, were a
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. • 169 
 
 source of astonishment, especially when she re- 
 membered that Mrs. Pearce had no fortune. 
 
 At night she found her nightgown and slippers 
 warming at the bedroom fire, and she was shown 
 on the same landing a bath-room, which might be 
 used at any time, there being always an abun- 
 dance of hot and cold water and a heated cupboard 
 with towels and wraps. "Oh, my poor Olive," 
 she exclaimed, after these successive discoveries, 
 " I had no idea of all the privations you suffered 
 with us ! Had I known, I should never have dared 
 to invite you." 
 
 " Nonsense ! . . . I have learned a very valua- 
 ble lesson, which is, that all these indulgences 
 are not necessary to happiness. I am proud 
 to feel that I can be very well contented with- 
 out luxury, and I owe my independence to your 
 example." 
 
 " Still, this kind of life must be very pleasant, — 
 dangerously pleasant. I begin to understand all 
 that your cousin said about the necessity of large 
 fortunes before one dared to marry." 
 
 " Unfortunately, you 11 be more and more im- 
 pressed by the truth of it; but since you don't, 
 mean to live in England, you must try to enjoy 
 the good and pretty things that will be set before 
 you, without arri&re-pensde." 
 
 " I am afraid it will be but too easy ; the atmos- 
 phere is too relaxing to remain a stoic in it."
 
 170 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 On the following morning Pearce took his 
 friends for a walk about Kew, and they admired 
 the new, diversified styles of houses, and came 
 back by the river-side. In the afternoon they 
 visited the magnificent Gardens, and it was with 
 the greatest difficulty that M. Mole - could be made 
 to leave the palm-house. 
 
 " Did not I say that you would find something 
 to interest you here ?" asked Pearce, smiling. 
 
 " I believe I could spend the rest of my life in 
 that garden," enthusiastically replied M. Mold, who 
 was a fervent botanist. 
 
 "But we have to see the sunset from the bridge," 
 Jean interposed ; " and as it is fine to-day, we 
 must not miss it." 
 
 They leisurely strolled till the sun began to 
 decline; and when the golden rays shot through 
 the branches, and spread their splendor over the 
 sky and along the surface of the noble river till it 
 burned and glittered and changed like the northern 
 light, they received an impression never to be 
 forgotten. 
 
 !>y the late post there came some letters for 
 M. Mult', and among them a very large, thick en- 
 velope. "It's a lettre de part" remarked Jean. 
 "I wonder who has got married among our ac- 
 quaintances." 
 
 "Mafoi! this is a surprise," M. Mold exclaimed ; 
 " as you could not guess, I may. as well tell you
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 171 
 
 that Madame la Marquise de Civray a Vhonneur de 
 nous fairc part du manage de M. le Comte Phi- 
 lippe-Sigisbert-Hugues de Civray de Champignol 
 a.vee Mademoiselle Blanclie-Isabelle-Aurorc-Myrtille 
 des Sogrons de Perdal." 
 
 "Pas possible /" cried Jean. " Had it been his 
 brother I could have understood it ; but . . ." 
 
 " Oh ! I think the last conversation I had with 
 Madame de Civray explains it ; she told me that 
 the Marquis seemed decided against matrimony, 
 and that if this were confirmed she would see 
 that her second son did not allow the house to end 
 with him." 
 
 " It 's rather a perplexing problem!" said Jean. 
 
 " Anyhow, I pity the bride. . . . What a place 
 to spend a honeymoon in !" shuddered Olive. "I 
 wonder if she is deaf and dumb too ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! Madame de Civray was determined 
 on this point." 
 
 "Well, I trust the children may escape," said 
 He'lene thoughtfully. 
 
 "It's just possible, as we have seen," answered 
 her father; "but it is an awful risk. I wish it 
 had been the Marquis who w T as married ! . . . Well, 
 I must send our congratulations, nevertheless." 
 
 On the morrow they visited the Royal Academy. 
 "You know, Pearce," Jean had said to him, "that 
 we don't mean to take up all your time. I can 
 take care of He'lene and of my father ; so it must
 
 172 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 be understood that although we shall always be 
 glad of your company, you are only to give us 
 what you can easily spare." 
 
 But Pearce, besides the pleasure he was certain 
 to derive from the society of his friends, had 
 another point in view, — he was not sorry to hear 
 the opinion of a clever artist like Jean about the 
 pictures he was to criticise. So they all went to- 
 gether, even Mrs. Pearce, who did not fail to com- 
 plain of the endless troubles society imposed upon 
 its members. " I always come back with a dread- 
 ful headache," she said ; " but for the sake of con- 
 versation one is absolutely obliged to go through 
 it. For two mouths now we shall be constantly 
 exposed to all sorts of questions about the pictures, 
 and expected to give an opinion. Besides, one has 
 to be seen there sometimes." 
 
 Hdlene and her father were delighted with their 
 initiation in English art ; hitherto thry had seen 
 very little of it, — a few specimens now and then 
 at the Salon. Pearce avoided the mediocre works, 
 and took them at once to the best pictures, point- 
 ing out their characteristics and giving a brief biog- 
 raphy of their authors. Frequently he discussed 
 with Jean the defects or merits of a particu- 
 lar picture at great length, and the ladies during 
 these moments surveyed the surrounding toilettes 
 and exchanged comments upon them. From time 
 to time IVarce, rather proud of all the bows he
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 173 
 
 • 
 
 received in the presence of Hdlene, would tell her 
 that this gracious nod came from a celebrated lady 
 novelist, and that from a famous beauty ; the 
 gentleman who had just shaken hands with him 
 was an E. A., the other who beckoned to him, a 
 Minister of State, etc. 
 
 While M. Mold was trying to bring together all 
 the little party in order to leave the exhibition, 
 Hdlene, who was standing still, waiting for the 
 others, noticed the exquisite walk and carriage of 
 a lady dressed in deep mourning, whose face she 
 could not see at that moment. " I feel almost 
 sure," she said to Olive, who had joined her, 
 "that this graceful person in front of us is not 
 English; there is none of the British staccato in 
 her walk, she seems to glide. See how her train 
 softly ripples behind her ' even when she turns, it 
 does not jerk. And what perfect taste in the plain 
 elegance of her mourning! — no heavy crapes as 
 atonement for glittering jot, but a costume of in- 
 credibly fine material, silky without shine, and 
 attractive, despite its sombreness." 
 
 The lady was surrounded by several gentlemen ; 
 and as she turned her head to speak to one of 
 them at some distance, Olive saw her face, and 
 she smiled. "Yon are mistaken in your gues 
 Iled&ue. Mrs. Stodard is a real Englishwoman, 
 gracefulness and all ; but I did not know she had 
 lost her husband."
 
 174 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " She moves more like a princess than like an 
 ordinary person. See with what dignity and grace 
 she meets the empressemeut which surrounds her ! 
 Ah, what a lovely face ! " 
 
 " You are not the only one to admire Mrs. Stod- 
 ard; I heard Henry say that all the celebrities 
 who go to her house are never tired of singing her 
 praises." 
 
 " But what is she ? " 
 
 " Oh ! she is a very important person indeed, — 
 or at least she was ; her husband, Mr. Stodard, had 
 one of the most important publishing houses of 
 London. You may imagine that there would be 
 a court about her, especially as they were both 
 extremely hospitable." 
 
 " I am very much surprised to hear that she is 
 English. I greatly admire English beauty; but 
 this lady's is of quite a different type. Her fea- 
 tures are as regular as those of a Grecian statue, 
 but with a peculiar charm." 
 
 "Ah! I remember, now, that Henry said her 
 mother was Greek, and that she herself knows 
 modern Greek very well. She is also a famous 
 musician." 
 
 At this precise moment Jean was seen advancing 
 inwards Airs. Stodard and shaking hands with her. 
 They exchanged a few phrases, the lady looked 
 towards Helene and Olive, and a smile of recog- 
 nition softened the firmness of her beautiful face ;
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 17.") 
 
 she walked in the girls' direction, accompanied by 
 Jean, and said to him : " You must introduce your 
 sister to me. . . . How do you do, Olive ? " she 
 continued, when close to her. " I hear that you 
 have been in France, and are now quite a French 
 scholar, — a blooming and a joyous scholar, as I 
 see: this is right." 
 
 When He'leue had been introduced to her, she 
 said : " I did not pay my compliments to your 
 brother about his pictures when 1 knew that yon 
 were here, I reserved them for you, Mademoi- 
 selle : you must be very proud of his success. I 
 can assure you that it gave great pleasure to his 
 English friends." 
 
 He'leue, with a little hesitation due to the use 
 of a foreign language, expressed her thanks for 
 Mrs. Stodard's interest. 
 
 Pearce now came forward with his mother and 
 M. Mold. Helene thought he looked ill at ease and 
 somewhat put out by the meeting, especially when 
 Mrs. Stodard said : " Your friend M. Jean Mole 
 has promised to bring his father and sister to 
 dine with us on Monday next, — will you join them 
 with your mother and Olive ? . . . Xo need to 
 dress, we are still in deep mourning. Yes, thanks. 
 I must leave you now, to go back- 1m the kind 
 friends who are taking me through the exhibition ; 
 but I count upon the pleasure of seeing you all 
 on Monday and of having a real chat togethi
 
 176 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 She bowed, and in so doing rested her deep 
 e}'es on those of Hdlene with a sort of tender 
 concern. 
 
 " Your sister is enraptured by Mrs. Stodard's 
 beauty," Olive said to Jean as soon as the lady 
 was out of hearing, — " what is your opinion ? " 
 
 " I think Mrs. Stodard is extremely beautiful." 
 
 " Oh ! " pouted Olive, " everybody can see that. 
 ... I mean do you like that kind of beauty ? 
 ... It 's too severe for my taste." 
 
 " I suppose, Olive, you never saw her smile, 
 then ? " Pearce interposed. " When serious and 
 severe she is Pallas herself, and when she smiles 
 she is one of the Graces ... as a great poet said," 
 he added hurriedly, noticing that Hdlene was all 
 attention. 
 
 "Who was this flattering poet?" mischievously 
 inquired Olive. 
 
 " Oh ! I forget just now ; his name is of no con- 
 sequence," he answered evasively. 
 
 After dinner M. Mold asked to learn something 
 more about the lady who had invited them; and 
 as Pearce seemed rather reluctant, his mother told 
 what she knew. 
 
 " Mrs. Stodard was the daughter of an artist, 
 
 a sculptor who had gone to C.reece to study. He 
 
 married a Greek girl ; but nobody ever saw her in 
 
 land, as she would never leave her country. 
 
 She died when her only daughter was sixteen, and
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 177 
 
 then father and daughter came to live in London, 
 and occasionally went to Greece to visit her tomb. 
 When Ida Bayliss made her first appearance in 
 society, she created quite a sensation ; she was 
 not only handsome, but she was unlike anybody 
 else. I remember her very well. She dressed a la 
 grecque ; and although it seemed rather eccentric, 
 the style became her to perfection. She was at 
 that time full of a fiery impulsiveness, which she 
 has very properly toned down since, but which 
 men thought wonderfully seductive. Despite all 
 the admiration she awakened, and although she 
 had as many courtiers as a princess, she remained 
 single until the death of her father; and shortly 
 afterwards, to the universal wonder of society, she 
 married Mr. Stodard, — a widower with four chil- 
 dren, and over sixty years of age. She was then 
 twenty-six." 
 
 " I suppose she married him for his wealth," 
 Olive said, somewhat aggressively. 
 
 " Oh ! you don't like her," answered Helene. 
 " She may have had other reasons, — disappoint- 
 ment, for instance." As she chanced to look at 
 Pearce, she saw again upon his face the same ex- 
 pression of embarrassment and annoyance that she 
 had noticed when they met Mrs. Stodard. 
 
 "The fact is," he said, "that Ida Bayliss found 
 herself penniless after the death of her father. He 
 was like a good many successful artists, — earning 
 
 12
 
 178 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 money easily and spending it freely, without a 
 thought for the future. Perhaps he counted upon 
 the remarkable beauty of his daughter to secure 
 a great match for her ; anyhow, as he died early, 
 he left her totally unprovided for. After all, if 
 she was ambitious of position and influence, she 
 got both by being put at the head of so important 
 a house." 
 
 " She looks clever," remarked He"lene, desirous 
 of learning more. 
 
 " Clever ? Oh, wonderfully clever ! " resumed 
 Mrs. Pearce. " Think of a girl of twenty-six assum- 
 ing the responsibility of constantly entertaining dis- 
 tinguished guests, even in her husband's absence ! 
 for he had to attend to his business all day long. 
 They received the most celebrated authors and 
 men of science, not only as occasional visitors to 
 whom an invitation to a dinner-party is sent from 
 time to time, but, like real friends, they were asked 
 to stay in the house sometimes for weeks, and 
 found it so pleasant that such invitations were 
 highly prized and sought after. Nor was this all. 
 You must easily imagine with what sentiments a 
 stepmother of that age may be received by her 
 husband's grown-up children. Well, I don't know 
 what charms Mrs. Stodard may have used to make 
 herself not only respected, but beloved: however, 
 siuh is the fact." 
 
 "She must be endowed with infinite tact," said
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 179 
 
 M. Mold, " for her position was full of perils and 
 difficulties." 
 
 " Yes," continued Mrs. Pearce ; " but she has 
 surmounted them all. Public opinion was imme- 
 diately won by the amiability of an incomparable 
 hostess, and the children soon understood that it 
 was more a gain than a loss to them to have such 
 an accomplished woman at the head of the house, 
 who managed everything in a way they had to 
 acknowledge far beyond their own competency. 
 And above all, and as all the world could see, she 
 made her husband happy; he was very proud of 
 her, and grateful for her affection. He has left her 
 a large fortune, and his sons said ' quite right ' 
 when they knew of it. She wished to retire from 
 the house after her husband's death ; but the sons, 
 being still unmarried, have begged her to remain 
 mistress of everything as she used to be, and she 
 has consented. They continue their father's im- 
 portant trade, and were afraid of a diminution of 
 their influence if they had to abandon the hospi- 
 table traditions of the house ; for this reason there 
 has been as little change of habit as was coin] 
 ible with decency and the respect due to the 
 memory of Mr. Stodard." 
 
 "Has she any children of her own ? " asked M. 
 Mold. 
 
 " No ; but one of her stepdaughters, being very 
 delicate, has not married yet, and remains with
 
 180 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 her. The eldest was married two years ago to a 
 partner in the firm ; she frequently comes to stay 
 with her stepmother." 
 
 " A really wonderful woman ! " declared Jean ; 
 " and what I like most in her, besides her beauty, 
 which I put uppermost, is the ease and perfect 
 grace with which she bears it all, — as if life were 
 a perpetual enjoyment. I hate people who look 
 wonderful ; they are exceedingly tiring." 
 
 " I am sure nothing could be more gratifying 
 than to think we are all pleased to accept Mrs. 
 Stodard's invitation," M. Mold said, to close the 
 subject. 
 
 "Except Olive, though," He'lene pointed out 
 mischievously. 
 
 " She is jealous, I do believe," added Pearce. 
 
 " I am not a bit jealous," she answered, redden- 
 ing; "and if I don't rave about Mrs. Stodard as 
 you all seem to do, it 's because I fed that she is 
 not naturally what she appears, and that she often 
 plays a part. I have seen it sometimes in her 
 compressed lips, or in the vacant smile which 
 greets a series of guests, — gracious, it is ; yes, but 
 not true, for it is the same for every one, — in 
 a flitting expression of utter wretchedness, soon 
 conquered and travestied. ... I like people to 
 look as they feel, and Mrs. Stodard always looks 
 her best, unless she forgets for a very short time." 
 Olive saw that her cousin looked astonished and
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 181 
 
 far from pleased ; so she added : " For all that, I 
 respect Mrs. Stodard very much, and I am very- 
 fond of being invited to her house to meet lots 
 of celebrated people ; so I shall be glad to go 
 too."
 
 182 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 XII. 
 
 The interval dividing the visit to the Academy 
 from the dinner at Mrs. Stodard's was fully oc- 
 cupied by endless sight-seeing. Jean, who was 
 equally fond of the picturesque and the beautiful, 
 took his father and sister into the most crowded 
 thoroughfares, — to Covent Garden Market, to Bil- 
 lingsgate, to the wharves. They once went from 
 Kew to Blackfriars Bridge on a steamer when all 
 the ships on the Thames and all the palaces and 
 churches on her shores were bathed in the pale 
 gold of a mysterious haze, and a soft glamour 
 spread to an in Unite distance upon the whole 
 surface of the mighty river. 
 
 "Is it not glorious?" asked Jean, enthusiasti- 
 cally. "But this effect of light has been my tor- 
 ment ever since I admired it for the first time. 
 I have had countless failures in my attempts to 
 record it." 
 
 "Y«>u don't mean to say that you dared to take 
 your sister on those horrid steamers, M. Jean ! " 
 exclaimed Mrs. 1'earce when the day's adventures 
 were related to her.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 183 
 
 "I must confess that I did it, Mrs. Pearce, 
 and — worse still — we enjoyed it amazingly." 
 
 " But it 's so dirty ; and then the people . . ." 
 
 " Oh ! I hope the reporters for the ' fashionable 
 intelligence' will overlook it," Jean said with a 
 hearty laugh. 
 
 " Poor Helene ! " sighed Mrs. Pearce, with real 
 commiseration ; " he treats you just like a boy." 
 
 " Oh, I can bear it ! " Helene answered with a 
 smile ; " I am only a country girl yet." 
 
 It was wonderful to see how the French fam- 
 ily appreciated the English institution of five- 
 o'clock tea. They repeatedly declared it refreshing, 
 strengthening, cheering, and Jean said it was even 
 " exhilarating," though he did not require anything 
 in that way ; it was certainly an agreeable moment 
 of rest and conversation. Sometimes a few callers 
 joined their hostess, and at other times they went 
 to her friends. Among the select and hospitable 
 society of Kew it was soon known that an artist 
 of promise, together with his father, a savant, and 
 a pretty girl, his sister, were on a visit to Mrs. 
 Pearce, and calls were made and invitations given 
 in such numbers that they hardly knew how to 
 keep all their engagements. It was a memorable 
 time in the quiet life of Helene ; her success seemed 
 to have a powerful effect upon Pearce, for the girl 
 remarked with growing pain that the degree of 
 interest he showed her depended on the adniira-
 
 184 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 tion she excited. When she arrived, a great dis- 
 illusion awaited her; she had thought so much 
 of their meeting. . . . But he appeared to have 
 forgotten all that his previous conduct had im- 
 plied, and to regard her merely as an acquaintance. 
 However, since her beauty and talents had been 
 praised, since others looked proud and happy to 
 turn the leaves of her music-book or to carry 
 away her empty cup, he seemed to come back to 
 the old ways and to find a certain pleasure at her 
 side and in her conversation. She began to think 
 that his own private opinion would only be favor- 
 able to her so long as society made her welcome 
 as an ornament, but that he would remain blind 
 and insensible to what was best in her if it were 
 not appreciated by the world. She resolved to 
 watch him with unprejudiced heart and impartial 
 reason ; for she was not one to worship un dim 
 au pieds d'argile. In the cruel moments of doubt 
 and suspense, her thoughts reverted with tender 
 regret to the generous and indubitable love that 
 she had not accepted. In that love she would have 
 put absolute confidence and trust, — why did she 
 not return it ? . . . Yet her own affection was also 
 great and enduring; but surely it was not love, — 
 excitement and romance were wanting. . . . But 
 why did she feel that dull ache in her heart when- 
 ever she thought of Maxime, and why was it grow- 
 ing with his absence, instead of diminishing ?
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCHITY. 185 
 
 The dinner at Mrs. Stodard's, although announced 
 as almost private, was in reality numerously at- 
 tended. M. Mold found several distinguished per- 
 sons with whom he could speak French, and Hedene 
 was greatly encouraged in her English attempts by 
 Mr. John Stodard, who sat at her side and looked 
 quite charmed by the modest ease of her manners. 
 
 Mrs. Stodard had placed M. Mole - on her right 
 and Pearce on her left, and she contrived quite 
 naturally to ascertain the exact degree of intimacy 
 between them. She looked handsomer than ever 
 by candle-light, her warm, though pale complex- 
 ion enhancing the lustre of the long black eyes 
 and the delicate drawing of the thin red lips. She 
 led and kept up a general conversation, without 
 gaps, throughout the dinner, changing the subject 
 without apparent effort now and then, to offer an 
 opportunity to all her guests. When the ladies 
 had retired into the drawing-room, she came to sit 
 between Olive and Helene, and made them tell of 
 their life together in France and of their future 
 plans. Then she remarked how strange it was 
 that two men so dissimilar as Pearce and Jean 
 should, by their friendship, have brought about the 
 intimacy of the two families. 
 
 "What makes you think them so dissimilar, 
 Mrs. Stodard?" asked Olive. 
 
 " A great many things ; but perhaps you would 
 not be quite pleased were I to mention the most 
 important in my eyes."
 
 180 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I should so much like to hear." 
 
 " Well, then, I think you can guess a great deal 
 of a man's disposition by the objects or persons he 
 admires. Now I have found out that M. Jean and 
 your cousin do not usually bestow their admira- 
 tion upon the same person." 
 
 Olive blushed, and was very much vexed with 
 herself; but He'lene answered with a little emotion: 
 " I have reason to think that they do sometimes." 
 
 With a quick glance of astonishment Mrs. Stod- 
 arcl fixed her eyes upon the girl's face and said, 
 with a smile: " Then it is a question of degree;" 
 and she went to talk to the other ladies, sending 
 her stepdaughter to the girls. 
 
 The gentlemen came back soon. There was 
 some indifferent music and a good deal of talk, and 
 then Mrs. Stodard asked Helene to play ; she com- 
 plied immediately. The piano was a powerful in- 
 strument of great range, with warm, well-sustained 
 tones and finely graduated scope of pedals. Hel- 
 lene was aware of this alter a few arpeggios with 
 which she tested it ; and satisfied as to its qualities, 
 she played Bummel's "Bella Capriciosa" with 
 such perfection and brio thai Mrs. Stodard herself 
 was charmed, and warmly said to EeTene: "Since 
 you feel Hummel's music and can interpret it like 
 that, you must often come here in private, and we 
 will play his sonatas together. . . . Would not that 
 be a real treat? . . . You must promise me."
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 187 
 
 " I should like it very much," replied Helene. 
 
 " Ah ! hut wait till you have heard me." She 
 sat at the piano and selected a march of Wagner, 
 and afterwards a nocturne by Chopin ; with a sort 
 of artistic coquetry, she wished to show Helene 
 w T hat she was capable of. The dexterity and 
 lightness of her fingers w T ere marvellous : some 
 notes of the nocturne seemed touched by a feather 
 and were no louder than a sigh ; while she put into 
 the martial, gaudy-sounding, bewildering march a 
 nervousness, force, and originality truly wonderful. 
 She was extremely seductive when she abandoned 
 herself to the fascination of music ; her expressive 
 face, the movements of her graceful body, no 
 longer controlled, reveale 1 new beauty, — ■ the flex- 
 ibility of her waist when she swayed from side to 
 side ; the elegance of the neck and of the well- 
 poised head when she raised it with a proud strain; 
 and the perfect form of the supple and firm fingers 
 in ever-varying positions. 
 
 "Will you play with me now that you can 
 judge ?" she asked Helene with a confident smile, 
 entirely devoid of vanity. 
 
 " I shall consider it as a great honor," replied 
 Helene with enthusiasm. 
 
 " No, not that ; let us say it will be a great 
 pleasure for both." 
 
 In the course of the evening she quite won M. 
 Mold's heart by praising his children to him. Her
 
 188 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 French was faulty, but she spoke it with a total ab- 
 sence of affectation which seemed very pretty to 
 her partner, who, like a great many others, was not 
 far from thinking her the most agreeable woman 
 he had ever met. 
 
 When Pearce came to her side she playfully 
 reproached him for not having brought He'lene to 
 her, or even spoken a word about her. " It 's I 
 who discovered your hidden treasure, you know, 
 and I owe you no gratitude." 
 
 "She is not my treasure, but I am under some 
 obligation to her for bringing me back aimin to 
 your side; it is a long time since I was so fortunate 
 as to receive an invitation." 
 
 Mrs. Stodard's black eyes flashed between her 
 long eyelashes, but she answered quietly : " "We 
 were in deep mourning, you know. . . . With 
 what feeling Mademoiselle Mold plays !" she pur- 
 sued. "Do you think she surpassed herself to-night, 
 or is she always equal to that ? " 
 
 "Oh! I don't know; I did not think much of 
 her, except in relation to you. I wondered what 
 might be the cause of your sudden fancy for her; 
 I thought you were rather exclusive in your 
 likings, hitherto." 
 
 " It is not a fancy, it is interest and sympathy 
 I feel for her. Does it strike you as strange ? . . . I 
 should have thought that you naturally shared those 
 sentiments, after having known her some time."
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 189 
 
 " I certainly like all the members of the family," 
 Pearce answered cautiously. 
 
 " No doubt ! . . . But as I was saying to her 
 after dinner, about the admiration of men, it is a 
 question of degree ; for they can admire and like 
 several women at the same time." 
 
 " One is always above all others, as you know ; 
 and Mademoiselle Mole* is not that one for me," he 
 said low and significantly. 
 
 " Oh ! I am very sorry for you indeed ! " Mrs. 
 Stodard replied with a light laugh. " I had imag- 
 ined such a pretty romance, — you had fallen in 
 love with a beautiful, clever, and modest French 
 girl, who admired you immensely, and after hid- 
 ing your idyl in the mystery of the country for 
 some time, you proudly brought your foreign bride 
 among us as a prize ; you were congratulated and 
 envied, and each new work increased your celeb- 
 rity, because it had been conceived with increased 
 happiness. And now do you tell me that there is 
 nothing in it ? . . ." 
 
 " Absolutely nothing." 
 
 " What a pity ! " .she said, rising slowly. 
 
 "Don't go yet. I also imagine pretty romances 
 sometimes ; let me tell you only one chapter." 
 
 "It would be of no earthly use, I am not in 
 the firm," she answered dryly ; and the graceful 
 undulations of her walk as she went to her other 
 guests gave no token of her agitation.
 
 190 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 From this day Hedene frequently went to Mrs. 
 Stodard's to play with her, or to be taken to a con- 
 cert, Mrs. Pearce willingly relinquishing her rights 
 in such circumstances, — 'her love of music being 
 limited " to gay and spirited pieces," she said. Mrs. 
 Stodard also took her young friend to some re- 
 nowned aesthetic people and houses, and was very 
 much amused by her remarks and observations. 
 She said frankly that some of the feminine es- 
 thetes' toilettes were very pretty, and some (espe- 
 cially the unmitigated scarlet) almost ridiculous, 
 and that her impression when she was in the 
 midst of so many different styles, without a fea- 
 ture in common, was of being at a fancy-ball. 
 She also showed a lively interest in the modern 
 arrangement of the houses; she declared they 
 were infinitely more amusing to the eye and im- 
 agination, with their great variety, than those of 
 France, which had no revelation in store, no im- 
 jprevu. In England you never knew whether the 
 next room Mould be square, or round, or angu- 
 lar, whether the ceiling would lie level or not, and 
 whether you would have to go down or to ascend 
 to the iloor. The windows especially were delight- 
 ful. — her favorites being the bow-windows in a 
 recess and the latticed ones in unexpected corners. 
 She never ceased admiring the beautiful harmony 
 of colors and pretty designs of the carpets ; but she 
 avowed being sick of cheap Japanese fans, trays,
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 191 
 
 or plates, always the same, wherever she went, 
 and she made no reserve in favor of a very famous 
 illustrated Japanese book which she had been 
 called upon to admire as a very rare specimen in 
 about a dozen different houses in the course of a 
 fortnight. 
 
 She was making rapid progress with her Eng- 
 lish, now that she spoke it continually ; but there 
 again she had endured a bitter disappointment at 
 Pearce's hands. At first she had expected that he 
 would be pleased to converse with her in his own 
 Language ; but she soon made the painful discovery 
 that he winced at the most trifling fault she com- 
 mitted, and that instead of being amused by her 
 inevitable mistakes, as other people were, he ap- 
 peared angry and ashamed when they occurred in 
 public. This made her very reluctant to speak 
 English in his presence; and when obliged to do 
 so she could not help watching — almost fear- 
 fully — the expression of his face, by which she 
 became aware instantaneously of an error either 
 in grammar or pronunciation. Some of these errors 
 were a great source of innocent merriment for 
 Olive and Jean, and they contrived snares to make 
 their victim fall again and again into them. For 
 instance, Jean would ask his sister what she had 
 been doing in the afternoon, after Olive had told 
 him privately that they had made some pur- 
 chases, and Hedene replied that she had been
 
 192 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " chopping " (shopping) ; or else he would pretend 
 to send with her fowl a large slice of ham, to make 
 her say, " only a very little beast " (bit), for she 
 could not yet easily manage the short i. Sometimes 
 Olive begged her to pass the tongs when they were 
 on Mrs. Pearce's side, to hear her say: " Please, Mrs. 
 Pearce, Olive wants the tongues," and so on. When 
 the} r merrily laughed, and she was told the rea- 
 son, she joined in the laughter ; but when she saw 
 Pearce's look of annoyance she felt as if she had 
 committed a great wrong, and once in particular 
 she was quite hurt by what she overheard. She 
 was sitting in her room near the open window, 
 which looked down upon the garden, and Pearce 
 had just come back from London, and was look- 
 ing at some flowers, when Olive ran towards 
 him and said : " Oh ! Henry, I have such a capi- 
 tal story to tell you about Hdlene ! . . . I can't 
 help laughing even now, when I think of it. This 
 morning was rather chilly, and the fire had been 
 smouldering in the grate. I put a few sticks into 
 it, but they gave more smoke than sparks, when 
 Hi'lone, with her grave face, asked her brother ' to 
 give her a box on the ear.' We both looked up 
 wondering; but he readily complied villi her re- 
 quest, and you may imagine how taken aback she 
 was! . . . Then he told her that his curiosity 
 would l»e mightily gratified by the explanation of 
 her commands; and it tinned out that she meant
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 193 
 
 to ask for the bellows (soufflet), and she had sought 
 it out in the dictionary and found ' a box on the 
 ear,' which she had translated une boite a air, of 
 course. I wish you had seen her when M. Jean 
 boxed her ear ; she evidently thought he had gone 
 out of his mind ! . . ." and Olive relapsed into 
 her fit of laughter. But Pearce was not even 
 tickled, and he said, with undisguised ill-humor : 
 " Silly things had better be forgotten than re- 
 peated ;" and he went indoors. 
 
 "I see clearly now," thought Hdlene with a 
 pang, " that his love will be so mixed with pride 
 that it may become a torment to be loved by him. 
 If the woman he shall select as superior to others, 
 not only in his own eyes, but also in those of the 
 world, were not very careful always to play the 
 part assigned to her ; if she betrayed some little 
 inferiority ; if she confessed ignorance on any point; 
 even if her beauty diminished with illness, or faded 
 with age, — woe to her ! . . . She would no longer 
 be an ornament to be sported, but an encumbrance 
 to be ashamed of." 
 
 It had been arranged that on the morrow 116- 
 lene and her father, after spending the afternoon 
 in the National Gallery, should have tea at Mrs. 
 Stodard's, where Pearce was to join them, in order 
 to go back to Kew together. 
 
 Mrs. Stodard happened to be quite alone, — a 
 very rare occurrence, her stepdaughter having gone 
 
 13
 
 194 GOLDEN MEDIOCEITY. 
 
 to stay with a sister for a little while. The draw- 
 ing-room, darkened by the heavy curtains of moss- 
 colored velvet, had a mysterious appearance ; 
 some water-colors by Samuel Palmer glowed 
 like jewels on the walls ; a strong intoxicating 
 perfume filled the room, wafted by a southern 
 breeze from the blooming hyacinths on the win- 
 dow-sill, and the graceful form of Mrs. Stodard 
 reclined upon a low couch, perfectly motion- 
 less, when Pearce entered. He perceived what 
 the maid had overlooked, — that Mrs. Stodard was 
 asleep ; and he advanced with cautious steps 
 towards the couch, admiring in silence the beau- 
 tiful outline of the face, softly detached on the 
 sombre pillow, and the lithe grace of the attitude. 
 When he had almost reached the couch, the rapid 
 flash of diamonds and sapphires made him aware 
 that a white hand was extended to him ; and as he 
 took it, a clear, light voice said : "You caught me 
 napping, I must confess it. I hope you will ex- 
 cuse me. I suppose it is all the fault of the hya- 
 cinths, and I am doomed to a dreadful headache 
 to-night. I beg your pardon for receiving you 
 in so dark a place ; I had no idea it was so late ! 
 But I will ring for lights, that we may be able 'to 
 see the color of our words,' as the French say." 
 Mrs. Stodard always chose to talk with a certain 
 degree of levity when she was alone with Pearce; 
 it seemed as if .she were afraid of a serious turn of
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 195 
 
 conversation. He was fully aware of it, and had 
 often been vexed, though he tried to disguise it. 
 
 " Let me rather open the window opposite and 
 shut out the hyacinths," he said ; " it will change 
 the air of the room, and I trust you will be spared 
 the headache." At the same time he did what he 
 had proposed ; he dreaded to see a blaze of light 
 in the mysterious temple of the idol he had just 
 contemplated, and he felt as if the growing ob- 
 scurity established a greater degree of intimacy 
 between them. When lie came back he did not 
 sit opposite to her, but took the chair nearest to 
 the couch. 
 
 " I wonder," said Mrs. Stodard, " what has hap- 
 pened, that M. Mole" and his daughter are so 
 late ? " 
 
 " Nothing of any consequence, I daresay ; but 
 why always talk of that girl to me ? Do you think 
 I shall submit to be robbed of my present happi- 
 ness by the thought of others than you ? You can- 
 not expect it, Ida ! " 
 
 " What do you mean?" exclaimed Mrs. Stodard 
 in a voice stifled by emotion. " I forbid you to call 
 me by that name ; you have no right to do it. For 
 you, as for any one else, T am Mrs. Stodard" She 
 had risen indignantly ; but he put himself in front 
 of her and replied, — 
 
 '"I beg your pardon. It is true that I had no righl 
 to call you Ida, as of old ; but listen to me. Of
 
 196 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 course you have nothing to fear ; I respect you too 
 much to say anything which might hurt, or even 
 alarm you. Still, to-day or another day, you must 
 hear what I have to tell, — why not now ? " 
 
 Thinking that she could not always avoid him, 
 and that perhaps it was better to have an imme- 
 diate explanation, she sat down again witli great 
 apparent composure, and said, in as chilling a 
 manner as she could master: "Well, then, I 
 listen." 
 
 " Perhaps you have not entirely forgotten a time 
 when we were near neighbors, and when I called 
 you Ida and you called me Henry ? . . ." resumed 
 Pearce in a less steady voice. 
 
 " I have not forgotten any tiling." 
 
 "You were aware even then of my love for 
 you ; but perhaps you were not aware of its inten- 
 sity and of the pain your marriage caused me. I 
 tried to stifle it when you belonged to another, and 
 my sense of honor was great enough to make me 
 believe that I had succeeded. ... I did not ques- 
 tion my heart, I locked it. . . . P>ut when circum- 
 stances made you free, a powerful hope burst it 
 open again, and it revived and claimed its share 
 of happiness. I have now learned that my love for 
 you is as strong as it was seven years ago, and 
 that I cannot be happy without you. . . . And 
 now, Ida, will you be my wife?" 
 
 " No, I cannot be your wife." This was said in
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 197 
 
 such a very determined manner that Pearce was 
 terribly wounded ; but he would not accept it as 
 a final answer. 
 
 " Was I wrong to believe, then, that seven years 
 ago I was not alone to love ? Did I misunder- 
 stand your blushes and your emotion when we 
 met ? . . . I flattered myself that I was not indif- 
 ferent to you, and this hope augmented my love ; 
 tell me now if it was all an illusion. Tell me 
 the truth." 
 
 "The truth! You want the truth? Well, I 
 will tell it you," answered Mrs. Stodard, whose 
 self-possession seemed to have forsaken her. She 
 rose and walked rapidly about the room, uttering 
 her sentences with cutting decision. "No," she 
 pursued, " you were not mistaken ; there was a 
 girl to whom you made love in every conceivable 
 way, in looks and manner, by subtle flattery, deli- 
 cate attentions, tender sighs, and the like, — not in 
 words, it is true ; you were careful enough never 
 to endanger your liberty. I suppose it was rather 
 agreeable to your vanity to know that you were 
 loved by a girl who was admired in society ; but 
 that sufficed you, for .she was poor, and your pas- 
 sion did not cany you so far as to allow you to 
 make her your wife. And so, after she had waited 
 and waited for the offer which never came, the girl, 
 almost broken-hearted, was constrained by circum- 
 stances to marry; and as you told me yourself, you
 
 198 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 locked your heart, — an exceedingly convenient 
 process. But seven years later, the girl having 
 acquired a conspicuous position in the world and a 
 fortune, you unlocked your heart and offered, with 
 your name this time, the mummy-love which had 
 lain so quiet there ; and you seem astonished that 
 this precious gift should be declined." 
 
 " You are very cruel and unjust, Mrs. Stodard," 
 replied Pearce, smarting under her sneers ; " and I 
 did not expect that the offer of my name would 
 furnish a subject to your satire." 
 
 " But do you not understand that it is presump- 
 tion on your part ? . . . What have you to oiler 
 me now ? A love so weak that it could not bal- 
 ance my want of fortune ; a position in society. 
 . . . Is it above mine? A name, — which of our 
 names is the better known ? " 
 
 " I never dreamed of proposing a bargain, and I 
 candidly avow that the point of view from which 
 you judge my conduct nearly paralyzes me. I 
 hardly know what to say to one so prejudiced 
 against me. Seven years ago I could not possibly 
 marry a girl without a fortune. It would have 
 been the destruction of all my future hopes of an 
 eminent position; it would have dragged me down 
 the social scale, and probably kept, me there. I 
 thought it better for both of us to sacrifice my 
 love, and I think so still, in spite of your ungener- 
 ous j udgment."
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 109 
 
 " It is a pity that these wise considerations 
 should not have made you abstain from all en- 
 deavors to win the affections of a girl that you 
 were determined not to marry." 
 
 "Just as it would have been better to abstain 
 from all endeavors to revive a tender feeling 
 turned into hatred, had I known it ; however, my 
 excuse remains with my love in both cases, — it is 
 not always possible to master the heart's longings. 
 How could I foresee that my suit would rouse your 
 anger ? " 
 
 " I bear you no hatred, I feel for you as for an 
 old acquaintance so long as the past remains un- 
 stirred and forgotten ; but when I remember the 
 cruel pain due to your selfishness, and when I 
 think you may still inflict the same upon some 
 other innocent and tender heart, — perhaps upon 
 one in which I have interested myself, — I think 
 it is my duty to warn your obdurate conscience 
 and to open your reluctant eyes to the egotism 
 of your conduct. I may perhaps prevent another 
 misfortune." 
 
 "I ... I don't know at all what you mean !" 
 stammered Pearce, terribly embarrassed. 
 
 "Don't you? . . . Then I must explain. You 
 noticed that I had taken a great liking for Made- 
 moiselle Mol£; and my solicitude makes me fear 
 that she is in some clanger of being treated 
 as I have been. This I will not allow, without
 
 200 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 at least making an attempt to put her on her 
 guard." 
 
 " She is jealous," thought Pearce ; " here is the 
 explanation of her conduct. Nothing is lost." . . . 
 "This would be very generous on your part if there 
 existed the least danger for your protegee ; but I 
 assure you, on my honor, that she is not threatened 
 in any way. Come, Mrs. Stodard, hear me, and 
 I will make a clean breast of it." 
 
 When she had complied with his request, he 
 continued : " Of course I don't mean to say that I 
 have been completely insensible to Mademoiselle 
 Mold's beauty and charms, I believe no man 
 would be ; and when I lived in France near her, 
 and when I saw her frequently, I tried to persuade 
 myself that perhaps she might help me to forget 
 the old, hopeless love (you were not free then) and 
 become a source of new happiness. My reason 
 told me that it would not be the match expected 
 for me by society ; that the girl, though certainly 
 possessing great qualities, was entirely devoid of 
 those striking charms and talents which place a 
 woman above others by general assent ; that she 
 was not sufficiently ambitious of social distinction 
 to strive fur it. Still, I tried to dream my dream 
 and to fancy that it was real ; but as soon as I 
 was out of dreamland, I awoke. When I saw 
 you again, when I knew that hope was no longer 
 forbidden, I realized that my heart would not
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 201 
 
 be coaxed into loving any one but you, and that 
 every attempt would prove a miserable failure. 
 And now you know the worst. You know all, 
 except that I have never said a word of love to 
 Mademoiselle Mold, and that my behavior since 
 we met again must clearly have indicated the 
 nature of my sentiments. In order to calm all 
 your apprehensions, I may perhaps go so far as to 
 confide to you that I suspect a certain Marquis, 
 living at a little distance from M. Mold, of having 
 greater pretensions over the heart of Mademoiselle 
 Hdlene than any I ever had." 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Stodard, with a great sigh of 
 relief, " I hope it is so." 
 
 "Nay," replied Pearce, somewhat encouraged, 
 " you promised to believe, not merely to hope ; and 
 you must also acknowledge that I am not such 
 a black sheep as you represented me. Shall there 
 be sweet peace between us ? . . ." 
 
 " There will be truce, — armed truce," said 
 Mrs. Stodard, ringing the bell ; " and I shall 
 give you a cup of tea in token of cessation of 
 hostilities." 
 
 "I remain, then, under the ban of suspicion ? " 
 
 But he had to cut short his expostulation, as 
 lights and tea were brought in just when M. Mold 
 and his daughter arrived. They had been detained 
 by a slight carriage-accident, but were none the 
 worse except for a little emotion. Their horse had
 
 202 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 become unmanageable, and had only been stopped 
 after taking them out of their way. 
 
 Pearce would have liked to persuade Mrs. Stod- 
 ard to grant him better terms, and he thought 
 he could have achieved his object had he been 
 left alone with her a little longer. But he hud 
 to bide his time till the next opportunity; and 
 after M. Mold and Hdlene had spent a quarter of 
 an hour in pleasant conversation with Mrs. Stodard, 
 he accompanied them back to Kew.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 203 
 
 XIII. 
 
 M. Mold's visit to England was drawing to its 
 close, and it was with very different feelings that 
 Jean and Hdlene thought of it. In spite of the 
 pleasure she had had during her stay, of all the 
 new sources of interest opened to her, of her 
 success in society, Hdlene felt a sort of weariness, 
 a disenchantment, which made her long to resume 
 her usual calm life. She had seen Pearce fre- 
 quently at Mrs. Stodard's side, and his anxiety 
 to please had not escaped her, any more than his 
 efforts to shine as much as possible in her pres- 
 ence by his conversation or the display of his 
 varied culture and knowledge. Mrs. Stodard had 
 not treated him as if she meant to forbid all hope; 
 she had thought that in the bitterness of disillu- 
 sion Hdlene might find a tonic, and she allured 
 Pearce to betray himself before her eyes. The 
 means had been efficacious, the cure was obtained; 
 but the dreary weariness that accompanied it was 
 very painful, and Hdlene now wanted to rest. 
 
 As to Jean, he always found some reason for 
 staying a little longer, — there were so many things
 
 204 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 that his father or his sister had not yet seen ; but 
 M. Mole* at last told him that they could not re- 
 main forever at Mrs. Pearce's, and besides he had 
 received several pressing letters from M. de Civray, 
 asking him to come back as soon as he could, 
 because his mother was dangerously ill and he 
 might at any time require advice. They must, 
 then, prepare for their departure. 
 
 When Olive heard of it she was thrown into a 
 state of consternation. It seemed as if it were a 
 totally unlooked-for event, a sudden misfortune ; 
 and she told Hdlene, with many tears, that she 
 could not get reconciled to the idea of their 
 parting. 
 
 " I hope it won't be for long," answered He'lene, 
 with a smile. "You must convince your aunt 
 that the climate of Champignol is necessary to 
 her health, and that she will escape from lots of 
 troubles by coming again to the same place." 
 
 " Of course I shall use all my powers of persua- 
 sion ; but suppose my aunt had some other plan 
 for the vacations ? " 
 
 "Well, in that case we had better ask Jean 
 what we ought to do. He never lacks an ingeni- 
 ous idea, he is full of resources and stratagems. 
 You admired, T suppose, the clever way in which 
 he persuaded my father that coming to England 
 would be the very best thing for his studies ; I 
 should not wonder if he said that the next best
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 205 
 
 thing was for him to stay till it's time to work 
 from Nature in the autumn, when there is a chance 
 of Miss Olive being at Champignol." 
 
 " Oh, you naughty Helene ! " cried Olive, blush- 
 ing to her neck and hiding her face. 
 
 " Are you quarrelling ? " asked Jean, who had 
 just caught Olive's exclamation as he entered the 
 room. " What have you done, Hedeue, to deserve 
 to be called naughty?" 
 
 "Don't tell him ! " Olive interposed impetuously. 
 
 " I shall leave it to you to tell him, while I 
 write to Hainan," said HeTene, who left the room 
 before Olive was aware of her intention. 
 
 " It is all very mysterious, and I delight in 
 mysteries. Shall I be admitted into the secret ? 
 What is it ? " Jean asked confidently. 
 
 "There is neither secret nor mystery," Olive 
 answered, still as red as a rose, and a little con- 
 fused. " We were only talking of ... of Hdlene's 
 departure, and . . . and I was telling her how 
 sorry I was; that I could . . . hardly bear . . ." 
 The faltering voice was lust in a low sob. 
 
 " You are not the only one to grieve at the 
 separation, Miss Olive," said Jean with great de- 
 liberation. "Look at me, now! I never thought 
 I could become such an idiot; but the tact is I 
 take no interest in anything since I realize that 
 we are to go back without you. The whole of 
 my intellect is concentrated upon the discovery of
 
 206 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 a fresh excuse for staying another day, and that 
 day is spoiled by the apprehension of the morrow. 
 You are laughing at me now, and I dou't know 
 what I was going to say ; but it comes to this that 
 I cannot bear to be separated from you now for 
 any length of time. You say you cannot bear to 
 be separated from Hdlene ; then why should there 
 be any separation ? " 
 
 Olive opened her blue eyes very wide, and stood 
 listening. 
 
 " You must be aware that I love you with all 
 my soul. I could not help it, even when I believed 
 that Pearce was your ideal, and I have loved you 
 still more after I was undeceived ; but I never 
 dared to tell it to you." 
 
 " But it seems as if you dared to-day," remarked 
 Olive, with cheerful laughter. 
 
 " To-day I am compelled by circumstances. I 
 can't go away without learning what you think 
 of it." 
 
 No answer came; Olive had cast her eyes down 
 and looked very demure. 
 
 "Now, Miss Olive," pursued Jean, drawing 
 nearer, " I beseech you to say something encour- 
 aging, else I shall go distracted. Only think how 
 pleasant it would be, if instead of our going, each 
 his own way, never perhaps to meet again, you 
 sent me off as your betrothed and wrote to me 
 very pleasant letters during a very short separation,
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 207 
 
 then came back to Champignol in the autumn to 
 settle everything about our marriage ? . . ." He 
 took her willing hand and looked into her brimful 
 eyes. " Will you accept me, Olive, for a true and 
 devoted husband who will try to make you the 
 happiest little wife in the world ? " 
 
 "Yes, I will," Olive murmured softly; "for I 
 also love you." 
 
 " Oh, Olive, what an enviable young couple we 
 are soin^ to be ! How stupid to marry late, and 
 let the best years of one's life slip away when they 
 could be spent in happiness ! . . ." and he kissed her. 
 
 " I am afraid we are very young and very fool- 
 ish ; at any rate people will think so of us. . . . 
 Henry, for instance. Oh, I shall not dare to 
 breathe a word of it to him !" 
 
 "I don't think we are foolish, Olive; on the 
 contrary. Pearce and the world will of course 
 accuse us of thoughtlessness ; but I shall never 
 care a fig for their united wisdom so long as this 
 pretty little mouth says it loves me. And it will 
 say it again, won't it, very often ? " 
 
 " Yes, dear, very, very often," she answered, as 
 she pressed herself close to him with charming 
 confidence; "but I don't see at all that we can 
 ever be married, however great our love may be. 
 You know that I have no fortune, ami as to your 
 position . . ." 
 
 "Oh! my position will be very fine in the
 
 208 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 future. ... I mean to be a great painter and to 
 work bard, particularly now tbat I have to win 
 my wife ; still, I am afraid your aunt won't con- 
 sider tbat a very satisfactory settlement for you. 
 . . . This is wbat I should propose: first, to keep 
 our delightful little secret to ourselves till I know 
 the fate of my pictures in the Salon. If I had 
 the luck to get a medal, it might bring me some 
 commissions, and I should begin to be somebody; 
 then I would tell my mother of our engagement 
 and take her advice. What do you say, Olive dear ? " 
 
 " I think it 's very wise . . . but oh ! Madame 
 Mold will have such a bad opinion of me. It's 
 so different from your pre-arranged French mar- 
 riages. . . . Won't she think me a desperate flirt 
 to have accepted her son's love from himself, and 
 not from my aunt ? " 
 
 " My mother knows you too well now to enter- 
 tain tbe slightest disparaging doubt about your 
 character. I even trust that she will approve my 
 choice. The only trouble we shall have; will be 
 when people ask, according to their intolerable 
 meddlesome ways, 'What on earth do they mean 
 to live upon?' If ever they put the indiscreet 
 question to me, I shall answer them with the 
 well-known song, — 
 
 " ' Eh bien ! nous acheterona 
 I'm' petite soupiere ; 
 Aveo la merae cuillere 
 Toua lea deux nous mange rons."
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 209 
 
 "Perhaps I have money enough to start our 
 menage with," Olive said, laughing to see Jean so 
 happy ; " and we must be very economical at first 
 until you are celebrated. I can do many things 
 now, you '11 see." 
 
 " Ah ! so can I. ... I can sew my buttons when 
 they come off, and I have a remarkable talent 
 for the lio-htiuo; of fires and broiling of cutlets. I 
 shall help you." 
 
 They burst into a fit of merry laughter, which 
 was not yet over when Helene came back with 
 her letter left open. " I wished to know whether 
 you had anything particular to say to Maman 
 before I closed my letter ? " she said to her 
 brother. 
 
 " Not yet, thank you. . . ." 
 
 " How, not yet ? . . ." asked Hdlene with a 
 smile. 
 
 "Oh, He'lene!" cried Olive, encircling her 
 friend's shoulders with her arms, and hiding her 
 face in her bosom, " I won't have any secret from 
 you ; I am to be your sister ! " 
 
 " I love you already as a sister, sweet ; but my 
 brother's affection will render you twice as dear." 
 She gave her a tender kiss on the forehead. "And 
 I thank you, Jean," she continued, "for giving 
 me such a sweet sister." She held out her hand 
 to him and he pressed it warmly. 
 
 " I don't know what I have done to deserve the 
 
 14
 
 210 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 best girls in the world for wife and sister/' lie said 
 with great emotion ; " but I mean to be worthy of 
 both." 
 
 He'lene was told next that the engagement was 
 to be kept secret for some time, and her opinion 
 was in favor of this resolution. Jean must have 
 something to offer before he presumed to ask Mrs. 
 Pearce for her niece's hand. " I must go and 
 post my letter now," said Helene; "there is barely 
 time. But was I not right to predict that Jean 
 would find out some means of bringing you to 
 Champignol again, eh ! Olive ?" And she left the 
 two lovers to mature their plans. 
 
 Mrs. Pearce, who had sometimes been afraid 
 that He'lene might gain such an influence over 
 her son as to counterbalance his wise views of 
 marriage, felt greatly relieved by their behavior 
 towards each other. That fear had been the only 
 thing to mar the pleasure of her intercourse with 
 M. Mole and his family ; but now she saw clearly 
 that there was nothing in it. She had dreaded to 
 see their intimacy grow, ami perhaps become more 
 sentimental, while they were so much together 
 under the same roof; but Henry's conduct had 
 been perfect ! He just observed the proper degree 
 of politeness which he owed, he just showed 
 with He'lene the same pleasure that lie would 
 show in any other pleasant society. Mrs. Pearce 
 congratulated herself that nothing regrettable had
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 211 
 
 happened. It is true that she imagined at times 
 she could detect a little flirtation going on between 
 Jean and Olive ; but it was of no consequence. 
 They could not keep anything back from her 
 experience; and in course of time, even if their 
 present fancy ripened into love, Jean Mold, the 
 successful painter, might be a very good match 
 for her niece, for she could not expect very bril- 
 liant offers with her three thousand pounds, poor 
 thing ! . . . After all these reflections Mrs. Pearce 
 was not unwilling to take into consideration the 
 project of again spending the vacations at Cham- 
 pignol ; but when M. Mold and his children took 
 leave of her, Pearce said that whatever his mother 
 decided, he should be obliged to go to Italy for 
 his studies, and could not join her. Perhaps he 
 might be able to spare a few days to go and fetch 
 her. He looked at Hdlene as he said this, — per- 
 haps in the hope of detecting some expression of 
 regret; but the handsome face remained immov- 
 able, and he felt a pang of selfish disappointment 
 His pride was hurt to see that the heart he had 
 spurned disdained to remain in bondage, and was 
 free, and that himself no longer remained in the 
 eyes of the girl the hero and the lord he Inn I been 
 pleased to think he was for her, but that she had 
 now taken his true measure without enthusiasm or 
 illusion. 
 
 Olive's tears fell like summer showers, with the
 
 212 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 sunshine remaining in her eyes and the warmth of 
 affection in her sweet, saddened smiles. She would 
 have liked to throw herself into the arms of her 
 beloved Jean ; but she controlled her impulses 
 most courageously, and kept her secret well. As 
 to Jean, he felt sorely tempted to declare that his 
 studies necessitated another stav in England ; but 
 at last he schooled himself into believing that his 
 presence in Paris would forward the accomplish- 
 ment of his dearest wish, because he could attend 
 personally to his interests, and this reconciled him 
 to the separation. 
 
 When M. Mold reached Taris again, he went 
 with his children to see Madame Ledoyen, and to 
 their sorrow remarked a change for the worse in 
 her appearance. She looked paler still, and more 
 feeble ; her hair, so black a short time since, was 
 densely streaked with gray, and she stooped omi- 
 nously: still, she did not complain. She could 
 hardly be led to speak of her son. " It is better 
 to talk of pleasant subjects to one's friends," she 
 said, "than to sadden them bv going over one's 
 own troubles;" so she inquired alter the journey 
 and their recent experiences of English life, and 
 toll! Jean that she had been very happy to hear 
 his pictures praised. "Is it true that the large 
 one has been bought by the Government?" Jean 
 knew nothing about it. but was wildly elated by 
 the hope that it might be true. "Would it not be
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 213 
 
 a capital piece of news to write to Olive ? " he said 
 to Hdlene as soon as he found himself alone with 
 her. Well, after inquiring of his picture-dealer, 
 he discovered that his small picture was sold and 
 that the purchaser desired another of the same 
 size. He had given the commission ; but as to the 
 large one, nothing was known vet. The intelli- 
 gence was very acceptahle, even so ; and Jean 
 greatly amused his father by mimicking the in- 
 creased politeness of his dealer, who used formerly 
 to say a patronizing word to him from his desk 
 and left him to the com mis, but who to-day had 
 come down from the authoritative desk to offer his 
 compliments personally, and had even suggested 
 the exhibition of an important subject in his 
 window. " Just now the public is very much 
 taken up by English ways and fashions," he 
 had said ; " and since your ideas of English life 
 are quite fresh, you might turn them to account. 
 I shall be most happy to help your talent to 
 notoriety." 
 
 After three days spent in Paris, M. Mole and 
 He'lene proceeded towards Champignol, leaving 
 Jean behind. Madame Mold thanked God with 
 religious fervor when she saw her husband and 
 daughter safe again at home, and when she heard 
 the good news concerning her son. A journey to 
 England, — a foreign country ; the crossing of the 
 Channel, — the sea; ... a stay of over a month
 
 214 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 among Protestants, — idolaters ! — these were for 
 Madame Mole, who never left her little country 
 town, a series of most perilous experiences to body 
 and soul ; however, the bodies of her beloved ones 
 were sound and safe, and their souls untainted. 
 Had she known what had passed in her daughter's 
 heart, and how near she had been to falling in love 
 with a Protestant, she would have shuddered with 
 horror. Perhaps she would have attributed to her 
 prayers and retreat the happy deliverance from 
 danger ; had it been otherwise, the most painful 
 complications might have arisen, for Madame Mole' 
 Mould never have consented to many her daughter 
 to a schismatique. Her mind being at rest now 
 about the most important points, Madame Mole' 
 questioned her husband and daughter about minor 
 tilings. " How did they like the food ? " 
 
 " Oh ! the roasts are capital," answered M. 
 Mole\ " and so are some of the puddings; and the 
 fish! . . . You never tasted anything like their 
 fish, merely boiled, — so fresh, so firm, delicious ! 
 But as to their soups, . . . not that they are bad, 
 only I had dined alter three spoonfuls. The poul- 
 try is unsavory, tasteless; they baste it with water, 
 I d(i believe, for there is never any gravy with it, 
 and it 's often served with a kind of posse you feed 
 babies with, — bread and milk. . . ." 
 
 "You don't Bay so I" exclaimed Madame Mold, 
 utterly bewildered.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 215 
 
 " It 's perfectly true, and they dare call it a sauce 
 too ! But you are not obliged to take any, though, 
 as it 's served separately; and so is bacon. Instead 
 of larding their fowls, they fry or boil bacon 
 separately." 
 
 " That accounts for the want of taste of the 
 fowls," Madame Mole - remarked judiciously. 
 
 " On the other hand, game is excellent. I did not 
 know what a pheasant could be before I tasted it 
 in England. You are aware that in France it's 
 the recognized thing to keep it till it's so high 
 that all its natural delicacy is entirely lost, and I 
 always abstain from tasting it. But in England 
 my olfactory organ told me that I might safely 
 venture ; and I did venture, with very agreeable 
 result, as often as I had a chance." 
 
 " What would astonish you most, Maman, is the 
 curious mixture of most heterogeneous elements, as 
 it seems to us, upon the same plate. Once at Mrs. 
 Stodard's I saw a gentleman who had on his plate 
 a slice of mutton with gravy, then currant-jelly, 
 potatoes, and brussels- sprouts, to which he added 
 lettuce clipped in mayonnaise." 
 
 " You don't mean to say that he ate currant- 
 jelly and mayonnaise at the same time! . . .' 
 said Madame Mole" with indescribable stupe- 
 faction. 
 
 " I don't know whether he ate them together, 
 but he did certainly have them at the same time
 
 216 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 upon his plate ; now that I think of it, I fancy he 
 took alternately some mutton and jelly, and then 
 some salad, or other kind of vegetable." 
 
 " Most unaccountable ! . . . How did you like 
 the sweets ? Are they very different from ours ? " 
 continued Madame Mole'. 
 
 " Not very different, except the boiled puddings, 
 which I did not much like, because they always 
 seem heavy to my unaccustomed stomach ; as to 
 jellies, they frequently retain a taste of isinglass, 
 which I tli ink detestable. But, Maman, you 
 should see the perfection of the service ! The 
 brightness of so many silver appliances, together 
 with the color of the dishes and plates, — the whole 
 has such a dainty, cheerful aspect, much more 
 cheerful than our cold, all-white dinner-table. Did 
 you not notice it, Papa ? " 
 
 " Yes, I am quite of your opinion. The only 
 drawback that I could find with the waiting was 
 that the servants often have too much on their 
 hands at once, and cannot possibly do it in time for 
 the comforts of the guests. It has often been my 
 misfortune to wait for my glass of beer till I was 
 nearly choked; and I remember that once I got 
 my sauce for fish when there was no longer any 
 fish on my plate. We were rather a numerous 
 party, and the two maids could not attend to 
 everything and everybody in time. Had the sauce 
 been passed round according to our French wny,
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 217 
 
 I should have got it to eat with my fish ; and had 
 I been allowed to help myself to drink, I should 
 have thought it a greater luxury to have my glass 
 of beer when I needed it, than to have it poured 
 out to me after waiting for it through half a 
 meal. These are, however, small blemishes in a 
 system nearly perfect." 
 
 " And what did you think of the ladies' toilettes ? 
 Is it true that Englishwomen don't know how to 
 dress ? " 
 
 " Now who could expeoi such a question from 
 Madame Mold, I wonder ? " exclaimed her hus- 
 band greatly amused, and pointing to her simple 
 monastic gray dress. 
 
 " I did not much like the out-of-door costumes," 
 replied Hdlene to her mother's inquiry. " English 
 ladies are not so punctilious about harmony in the 
 different parts of a toilette as we are, and do not 
 shrink from sporting something eccentric, which at- 
 tracts attention inevitably ; but their evening cos- 
 tumes are exceedingly varied and beautiful, worn 
 with ease and grace, and selected witli great refine- 
 ment of taste. I am very fond of the English 
 habit of always dressing for dinner; it gives an 
 air de fete to the simplest meal." 
 
 " What ! do they dress when they dine by them- 
 selves ? " 
 
 " Yes, to a certain extent. Olive told me that 
 her aunt does not change her dress when they are
 
 218 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 alone together, but she invariably adds a lace fichu, 
 ami perhaps a ribbon or a jewel, — something, at 
 any rate, which she would not wear in the daytime. 
 Mrs. Stodard attributes this habit of dressing in 
 the evening to two separate causes : the first is that 
 English ladies, taking a great deal of out-door 
 exercise, their walking-dresses would not look neat 
 and tidy at dinner, with the mud or dust of the 
 streets ; the other is that the rooms, heated by gas 
 and coal-fires, get so extremely hot at night that a 
 light evening dress is much pleasauter to wear 
 than a heavy fabric." 
 
 " I suppose the rooms at night must have a very 
 cheerful aspect, from what you say of the profuse 
 light, both of fires and gas, together with the 
 beautifully dressed ladies." 
 
 "They do; I don't know why, but this look of 
 cheerfulness and comfort made me feel familiar 
 with whatever strange new house I went to at 
 night. My impression in the daytime was quite 
 different The almost constantly dull, grayish 
 atmosphere of the outside seems like an immense 
 monochrome picture in each of the windows, ren- 
 dered still mi nc colorless by its surrounding of 
 large white muslin curtains; the wall-papers, fre- 
 quently gray also, in delicate tints, not to interfere 
 with the water-colors, contribute to the general 
 chill, — so different from the effects of splendor or 
 warmth often produced by the arrangements of
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 219 
 
 French salons. On the other hand, the dining- 
 rooms are finer than ours. . . ." 
 
 " Now, He'lene, you must give up pampering 
 your Maman's curiosity for a while ; I want 
 to hear the news of the place, if there are any. 
 First of all, how is Madame de Civray ? " He 
 noticed at once some hesitation in his wife's 
 countenance. " Is she so ill, then ? " he continued 
 with alarm. 
 
 His wife looked at him with a sad, troubled ex- 
 pression, not answering him yet. 
 
 "I see; there is no hope!" he continued, after 
 a short pause. 
 
 " No, there is no hope left," said Madame Mole', 
 coming to her husband's side and taking hold of 
 his hand. "She gave up her soul to God four days 
 ago, and was buried yesterday." 
 
 She silently pressed her „ husband's hand and 
 kept it in hers ; a tear rolled upon M. Mold's gray 
 beard. 
 
 " I am so grieved there was not one of us at her 
 funeral," he said at last. " We have lost a trusty 
 friend." 
 
 " But I went, dear, and the Marquis was very 
 grateful ; he expressed his thanks." 
 
 " I am deeply obliged to you for your consider- 
 ate kindness, ma bonne Marie" said M. Mold, who 
 kissed his wife's forehead. " How does the Marquis 
 bear his loss ? "
 
 220 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " Courageously ; lie led the funeral with the 
 lofty manners so natural to him, but he looked 
 worn. The young Countess appeared truly grieved." 
 
 "The chateau will be twice as gloomy to her," 
 Hdlene said. " Shall we soon go to see Made- 
 moiselle Irene, father? . . . The blow will fall 
 most heavily upon her." 
 
 No other news was talked of on that day ; none 
 would have been of any importance compared to 
 the loss of so old and so considerate a friend as 
 la Marquise de Civray.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 221 
 
 XIV. 
 
 A fortnight after the death of his mother, the 
 Marquis, in deep mourning, called privately upon 
 M. Mold to deliver into his hands a small box 
 containing a miniature portrait of Madame de Civ- 
 ray, together with a plain gold ring engraved with 
 her initials and worn till the end of her life. She 
 had expressly bequeathed these objects to M. Mole' 
 in token of her regard, and left a legacy of twenty 
 thousand francs to Hdleue, with a very valuable set 
 of pearls, begging her to accept the money instead 
 of the trousseau she had intended to offer. 
 
 It was not possible to decline legacies indicat- 
 ing such delicate and thoughtful kindness. Ma- 
 dame de Civray had never offered any reward or 
 compensation to her adviser, well knowing that he 
 did not expect any, and that what he gave her of 
 his time and thought was freely and generously 
 given, without any idea of profit ; but she had al- 
 ways intended to make Ilelene, when she married, 
 a present which would show her sense of gratitude 
 for her father's services. M. Mold accepted the 
 souvenirs both for himself and for his daughter.
 
 222 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " I shall have a heavy weight of business thrown 
 upon me now," said the Marquis. " You are aware 
 that my mother directed, in a great measure, the 
 affairs of the family ; and although a separate for- 
 tune was settled upon each head on my brother's 
 marriage, there will be many things for which I 
 shall appeal to your knowledge and experience, — 
 as my mother used to do, — if you allow me." 
 
 " I shall always be most happy to help you in 
 any case. You may count upon my devotion to 
 the memory of Madame de Civray, as well as upon 
 my friendship for yourself." 
 
 " Thanks ! I expected as much. Will you ex- 
 cuse me to Madame Mole" and Mademoiselle 
 HeTene ? I feel that I could not see them yet, 
 especially as I should like to express again to 
 Madame Mold my sincere gratitude for her atten- 
 dance at the funeral. I know that she never goes 
 anywhere, never attends a ceremony, that she never 
 came to the chateau when it could oiler her some 
 pleasure, but that she overcame all her reluctance 
 in order to be among us in our day of sorrow." 
 
 The Marquis went away soon after this, and M. 
 Mole' acquainted his wife and daughter with the 
 objectof his visit. They were both greatly affected 
 by the tokens of amity left by Madame de Civray. 
 
 The gloom resulting from her death was some- 
 what relieved by the good tidings which came 
 from Jean after a little while. It was perfectly
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 223 
 
 true that the Minister of Fine Arts had bought his 
 large picture, and he had received a commission 
 for the decoration of a new church which would 
 fully occupy him for at least a year. When the 
 time came for the official distribution of medals, 
 one of the second class was awarded to him ; and 
 as soon as he felt quite certain of it, he flew to 
 Champignol to confide his love story to his mother 
 and to beg her help on the strength of his 
 success. 
 
 Madame Mole listened to him with tender in- 
 dulgence, and so did her husband, who undertook 
 to make the preliminary negotiations with Mrs. 
 Pearce for the marriage of her niece. He began 
 by pleading his son's great love, and said that, 
 though young, he was very steady and serious in 
 his work ; lie was now certain of official patronage, 
 which would do a great deal for his reputation. 
 On his marriage he would get from his parents 
 eighty thousand francs, — rather less than his sister, 
 who was entitled to a hundred, because a pension 
 had been given to him for some years past, mak- 
 ing up the difference. Although the united dow- 
 ries of Jean and Olive would amount to little 
 over six thousand pounds, M. and Madame Mole" 
 thought it sufficient to begin with. "We have 
 only two children," concluded M. Mole, "and 
 after us what we possess will be equally divided 
 between them. After all these explanations, fai
 
 224 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 llionneur, chlre Madame, de vous demander pour 
 mon fits la main de mademoiselle votre nihee." 
 
 When Mrs. Pearce communicated the letter to 
 her son, he shook his head and said : " They '11 be 
 awfully pinched ! . . . But that 's their own look 
 out, of course." 
 
 " So you think I must give my consent ? . . ." 
 asked Mrs. Pearce. 
 
 " What could you do else ? It 's a foolish thing 
 for them to do ; but they might only be kept from 
 it for a time, and would not be grateful for the 
 interference." 
 
 "I am sure I hope dear Olive will be happy; 
 M. and Madame Mole" seemed very fond of her. As 
 to Jean, you know him better than I do. . . ." 
 Mrs. Pearce said. 
 
 " Oh ! Jean is a capital fellow, there is no fear 
 from that quarter ; but he must be mad to throw 
 away all his chances by getting married at his age! 
 . . . However, as I said before, that's his own 
 concern." 
 
 " It will be very sad for me to have Olive taken 
 away, now that everything had been satisfactorily 
 arranged for her Btay. And oh, dear me! only 
 think of the wedding, — what a source of infinite 
 trouble and expense! " 
 
 "Well, mother," answered Pearce, with his usual 
 open-handedness, "we will go .shares; you'll have 
 the trouble, and I shall bear the expense."
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 225 
 
 But it was not to be so. M. Mold and his wife 
 had thought it desirable to spare Mrs. Pearce all 
 inconvenience and unnecessary outlay ; they pro- 
 posed, in consequence, that the wedding should 
 take place at Champignol. This had become pos- 
 sible on account of Olive's recent sojourn in the 
 place, — the law requiring it. At last, after a 
 brisk correspondence of a fortnight's duration, 
 all agreed that the wedding should be solemnized 
 in France and in the beginning of October. 
 
 Mrs. Pearce was to come again to La Saulaie 
 early in August. There had been some talk of 
 letting the engagement stand over for a year or 
 two; but M. Mold had said decisively: " Puisque 
 ces en/ants s'aiment, il faat Us laisser maricr." 
 
 Jean and his wife were to live in Paris at least 
 the greater part of the year, and the vacations 
 would be spent at Champignol. So Jean went to 
 meet Mrs. Pearce and Olive at the former place to 
 choose an apartment and give the necessary direc- 
 tions for the furniture and upholstery. 
 
 Although Mrs. Pearce complained of the trouble, 
 she really liked the excitement of the shopping, 
 choosing, and ordering; besides, she was highly 
 pleased by the repeated appeals to her taste and 
 experience. She wrote to her son, who was in 
 Italy, that she had no idea how cheap things 
 were in Paris ; Olive and Jean were to furnish so 
 prettily, and with so little money. " Why, they 
 
 15
 
 226 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 had spent only five hundred pounds ! " True, the 
 apartment seemed extremely small to English eyes, 
 though it was advertised as un grand appartement, 
 fraichcment decore et orne de glaces. Moreover it 
 was on the third floor above the entresol, and she 
 thought that very high ; but Jean had assured her 
 that it was the right thing for an artist in Paris. 
 " They all live au cinquieme, a gauche, you know ; 
 but having got a medal, I thought I might indulge 
 in the luxury of a flight of stairs less," he had said. 
 Their apartment was in the Place Saint-Georges, 
 with a roomy studio at the top of the house for 
 Jean. "We all hope that you will manage so as 
 to be present at the wedding. Indeed, I consider 
 your presence as indispensable, you and I being 
 dear Olive's only relations," concluded Mrs. Pearce. 
 
 Everything once satisfactorily arranged in Paris, 
 Jean, with Olive and her aunt, proceeded to Cham- 
 pignol, where their reception was all that their 
 hearts could desire. Olive especially was petted 
 and caressed, and treated as if she were already 
 one of the family. "You must have been very 
 much astonished when you heard the news, Toi- 
 nette, were you not ? " asked Olive, with a pretty 
 blush, when she received the good-hearted servant's 
 wishes and compliments. 
 
 "Astonished? Not a bit of it. I was sure it 
 would come to this soon. How was it possible for 
 any young lady to know M. Jean without loving
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 227 
 
 him ? And how could he help falling in love with 
 the prettiest young lady we ever saw at Cham- 
 pignol, — except Mademoiselle Hdlene ? . . . No, I 
 was not a bit astonished ; and, like the rest of the 
 family, I am very glad of it, Miss Olive, and I hope 
 you '11 be very happy together." 
 
 " Thank you, Toinette ; I hope so too." 
 
 The trousseau was made in a convent at Cham- 
 piguol, and the wedding-dress in Paris; everything 
 was ready two days before the ceremony, when 
 Pearce arrived. He had brought a very fine set of 
 cameos for his cousin, and showed himself quite 
 affectionate and amiable. He said that having 
 been superseded in his guardianship allowed him 
 to act in his character of cousin, and that lie 
 would now pass the rod and the scolding to 
 Jean. 
 
 " You need not fear anything from me," the 
 latter said to Olive. "French law does not author- 
 ize us to chastise our wives, even with the small- 
 est of canes; it seems to have been inspired by 
 the Persians, who say : Ne frappez jamais une 
 famine, mime avcc tine flmr. I hope you duly 
 appreciate your luck in becoming French, for you 
 also escape the clanger of being sold in Smithfield 
 Market with a rope round your neck, you know." 
 
 " Very true ; how fortunate I am ! . . . But, on 
 the other hand, I fear I could not be divorced," 
 Olive answered archly.
 
 228 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " Well, then, you see, after all it 's as in every- 
 thing else, il 1/ a du pour et du contre" Jean said 
 philosophically. 
 
 There was no possibility of mistaking the full 
 and perfect happiness of these two young people, 
 it was so frank and open. They did not hide it 
 under any attempt at decorum ; it was continually 
 proclaimed by their joyous countenauce, merry 
 laughter, and animated talk. Toinette often 
 stopped in the midst of her work to look at them 
 or listen to them ; then she would turn to Madame 
 Mold and whisper: "They have no other business 
 now than to sin<>' Jc mo ate aux cieux, as the larks 
 say, and to gladden every heart with their song." 
 
 The wedding was very grand indeed. M. Mole* 
 was so well known and so much loved that all 
 the society of Champignol flocked to church to wit- 
 ness the ceremony. The attendance of humble per- 
 sons who owed him gratitude was also numerous. 
 All eyes turned in the same direction when the 
 Marquis de Civray with his sisters, and the Comte 
 Ungues with his young bride, all in deep mourn- 
 ing, took their seats at some distance from the rest 
 of the assembly. Such an honor had never been 
 paid to any person of the Champignol aristocracy. 
 At ran; intervals one member of the proud family 
 had been seen at a funeral or at a wedding; but 
 the whole family, with the ladies, in spite of their 
 mourning too ! . . .
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 229 
 
 Soon came the bride, so perfectly lovely, with 
 her golden hair and pure blue eyes gleaming 
 through a cloud of tulle. Every one admired her 
 as she advanced timidly towards the altar,, led by 
 Pearce, whose tall and handsome figure also at- 
 tracted a good deal of attention. Helene was 
 declared the most beautiful girl of the town ; and 
 after this day many were the offers of marriage 
 which resulted from her appearance in public on 
 that memorable occasion. It was also noticed 
 that Madame Mole* was still dressed in gray ; the 
 only concession she had made was to exchange wool 
 for silk. As to Madame Toinette, she did not pass 
 unnoticed ; and it was reported that her coiffe was 
 fastened by pins, — the like of which had 1 * never 
 been seen in ChampignoL — as big as pigeon's eggs, 
 all silver, and full of holes like embroidery! . . . 
 They were the Japanese pins given to her by 
 Maxime. 
 
 The religious ceremony being over, the bride 
 and bridegroom were marshalled in state to the 
 sacristie by the gorgeous Suisse in scarlet and gold. 
 There was a little hesitation among the assembly 
 as to what they had better do, — either go to have 
 a better view of the wedding-party in the sacristie, 
 or else follow the Marquis for a sight of the ladies 
 de Civray and of their equipage with the powdered 
 laquais. . . . This hesitation was cut short when 
 the Marquis crossed the church in the rear of the
 
 230 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 cortege and made his way towards the newly mar- 
 ried couple. Every one stopped, and a line was 
 formed to leave a clear passage for the young 
 countess and her sisters-in-law. 
 
 Jean and his wife advanced a few steps, and 
 the Marquis, after bowing to them in his courtly 
 manner, shook hands with the bridegroom and 
 complimented him in his own name and in the 
 name of his relations ; then he addressed the bride 
 and said : " I congratulate you, Madame, upon 
 your alliance with the son of the most respected 
 man in Champignol." Olive could only bow and 
 blush, while she murmured some inaudible thanks, 
 before she signed the register; after which the 
 Marquis received her pen and passed it to the 
 Countess, who, graciously smiling upon Olive, 
 wrote her name under hers. The Count, the Mar- 
 quis, and his sisters signed in succession, while 
 the cur4, taken by surprise, hurried to present his 
 duty to the Countess. The Suisse, with a senti- 
 ment of heightened importance, held the door 
 open and escorted the ladies to their carriage with 
 stately strides and sounding hallebarde. It was a 
 strange sight, that black defile in the midst of 
 the gayly dressed wedding-party; but the lordly 
 manners and courtesy of the de Civray had never 
 shone to greater advantage in the eyes of the 
 public, and every one present at the marriage felt 
 inwardly nattered by reflection.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 231 
 
 The emotions of the ceremony subsided gradually, 
 and the wedding-breakfast was a very lively affair, 
 lasting so long, according to provincial custom, that 
 the bride and bridegroom had to leave the table 
 before the end to don their travelling costumes. 
 They were seen no more by the guests, who only 
 became aware of their departure by the altered 
 expression of the parents' faces. 
 
 Olive and Jean had started on their new 
 life, accompanied by the blessings of all those 
 they loved. They went to spend their honey- 
 moon in Italy, where they would meet Pearce and 
 his mother now and then in their erratic course.
 
 232 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 XV. 
 
 To these festivities a heavy calm succeeded; and 
 when Mrs. Pearce and her son were gone, Hdlene 
 suffered from a sense of loneliness quite new to 
 her. In vain did she go back to her accustomed 
 routine, in vain did she read and play music ; 
 she could not revive the old interest, the charm 
 was gone. She was irritated against herself and 
 against her coward fears of the future. . . . Would 
 all her life be spent so, she wondered, in sterile 
 struggles against vain aspirations ? . . . What did 
 she want ? Was she not cheerful and contented 
 formerly ? Yes ; but then, she thought, at that 
 time I was first in my brother's heart and in that 
 of Maxime ; and when they were away I looked 
 forward to their coming soon. Now they have 
 other interests, and Jean at least lias another, a 
 stronger love. And Olive, who had been a dear 
 and charming companion, was also gone. She 
 would come back, no doubt, but she would not be 
 the same Olive ; no longer a girl like herself, she 
 would be a wife before everything else, — Madame 
 Jean Mole*. And Madame Ledoyen was estranged
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 233 
 
 too, for she bad excused herself on the plea of 
 illness for not coming to the wedding. It was 
 clear to Helene that there had been no forgive- 
 ness ; and she began to think it very unjust to 
 be deprived of a trusted affection because she had 
 wanted to know her own mind. Now at any rate 
 she was sure of one thing, — she did not love 
 Pearce. That stay in England, which was to show 
 him in all the glory of reputation and success to 
 an admiring country girl, had, on the contrary, 
 stripped him of the many charms assumed during 
 his transitory love-fancy, and magnified by an 
 enthusiastic maiden's imagination. She had seen 
 him again with real pleasure, but without emotion. 
 She could still appreciate and value his rare superi- 
 ority and sterling talents ; but she also missed the 
 generous-heartedness, the infinite powers of ten- 
 derness and devotion which she had attributed to 
 him once, and which were necessary to win and 
 retain her love. But of course all this could not be 
 explained to Madame Ledoyen, and poor Helene 
 suffered doubly, since she did not get any news 
 of Maxime. 
 
 Three months passed in this manner, with an 
 occasional ray of sunshine brought to the deserted 
 house by a letter from the deserters. Although as 
 happy as could be wished, since they had settled to 
 their work and taken their married life ait sen, 
 they longed to pay a visit to their parents at
 
 234 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 Chanipignol, and it was decided that they should 
 come for Christmas and take away H£lene after 
 the New Year. 
 
 This was told to M. de Civray on one of his 
 visits, during which he had inquired about Jean's 
 address to get his advice for the decoration of a 
 private salon in his own suite of rooms. Since 
 his brother's marriage the great drawing-room no 
 longer afforded him any privacy, as the Countess 
 constantly entertained friends or members of her 
 family ; she could not bear the dreary, dismal life 
 of the chateau without a great deal of company, 
 and even then she was out as much as possible, — 
 diiving, riding, boating, or fishing. Pretty, shallow, 
 and with strong aversion to any serious pursuit, 
 fond of adulation and amusement, she had resigned 
 herself to marry a deaf and dumb Count in the 
 hope of being mistress at Champignol and playing 
 the role of marquise; with the great fortune of the 
 house she could realize la vie de chateau en grand, 
 and, always surrounded by a court, would not have 
 time to feel much the want of intercourse with her 
 husband. And she had decided that she would 
 not pass more than three or four months of the 
 year at Champignol ; she would have the antique 
 Hotel de Civray, in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, 
 completely altered and splendidly furnished, so that 
 her fetes and receptions might be recounted in the 
 " Figaro." She would stay in Paris with her hus-
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 235 
 
 band during the season, and the rest of the year 
 would be devoted to the sea-side and travelling. 
 
 These plans appeared delightful at first sight, 
 and she often thought with a little impatience 
 that their fulfilment had to be postponed for some 
 months yet, on account of the death of the late 
 Marquise ; so long as they were in deep mourning, 
 comparative seclusion was dc rigueur. In the 
 mean time she surrounded herself with as many 
 intimate friends as she could gather, but could 
 not help occasionally a creeping sensation, akin to 
 remorse, when she caught the expression of mourn- 
 ful lonesomeness on her husband's face. She some- 
 times fancied that this gloom had deepened since 
 his marriage ; but it could not be. She did every- 
 thing in her power to cheer him, and it must be 
 pleasanter to have so many guests, to see so many 
 new faces and so much more liveliness about him 
 than formerly. 
 
 She had another vague and uncomfortable ap- 
 prehension, — about the Marquis. He was very 
 courteous to her, but, in spite of his apparent 
 deference, it had seemed to her on two or three 
 occasions as if he meant to remain the master; 
 and that was a cause of serious annoyance to the 
 young Countess. She had expressed a wish that 
 Irene and her sisters should spend the evenings 
 in the drawing-room, — " Indeed, she expected it !" 
 To which the Marquis answered, that " his sisters
 
 236 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 had been allowed perfect freedom in this respect 
 by their mother, and he hoped it might be con- 
 tinued.'' He had expressed this " hope " in such a 
 tone that insisting was out of the question. 
 
 Quite lately she had thrown out a hint about 
 being obliged to go to Paris soon to see that things 
 were made comfortable at the Hotel de Civray 
 for the season that she thought of spending there, 
 "quietly," she said, not to awaken the suscepti- 
 bility of her brother-in-law. "You can spare 
 yourself the trouble," he answered ; " everything 
 is always perfectly comfortable at the hotel, and 
 in readiness to receive my guests. I trust the 
 servants will see that you lack no comfort when 
 you feel disposed to make use of it." 
 
 This was a bitter disappointment ! . . . A guest, 
 indeed ! To be treated as a guest when she 
 had considered herself perfect mistress, and had 
 planned every detail for the renovation of the 
 place ! . . . But she kept her anger within herself, 
 thinking that by wise policy she might by degrees 
 make the Marquis yield to her wishes. He on 
 his part had resolved to secure his privacy in the 
 chateau by the addition of a salon to his apart- 
 ment, and had talked the plan over with M. 
 Mole* and told him that he wished Jean to un- 
 dertake the decoration. M. Mole* had answered 
 that his son would come at Christmas, when the 
 project might be discussed. In the course of the
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCEITY. 237 
 
 conversation lie had been led to say that Jean and 
 his wife intended to take away He'lene with them; 
 but he had not said for how long, and M. de Civray 
 dared not ask. He grew very anxious about it, 
 and called several times, in the hope of finding her 
 alone, but without success. One afternoon, at last, 
 Toinette answered to his query that " Monsieur 
 was out, but Mademoiselle was in the salon ; " and 
 as he said he would pay his respects, he was 
 shown in. 
 
 He'lene knew his step, and put aside her work 
 to receive him. " How are you, Monsieur le 
 Marquis ? " she began, more ceremoniously than 
 when her father or mother was present. " How is 
 Mademoiselle Irene ? " 
 
 " Pretty well in health, thank you ; far from 
 well in mind." 
 
 He'lene had raised her eyes in quick alarm. " I 
 hope nothing has happened," she added anxiously. 
 
 "I don't want to frighten you, therefore I 
 answer that nothing has happened, — at least, no 
 accident, no death, no illness ; and yet something 
 has happened which makes us all so miserably 
 wretched that for my part I cannot bear it alone 
 any longer, and I have come to you for sympathy." 
 
 " Can I do anything, then ? ... Of course 
 you have a right to our sympathy ; you may 
 count upon it. I so regret that my father should 
 be out ! "
 
 238 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 "But I don't regret it; it is your own sym- 
 pathy that I want." 
 
 " You have it ; . . . but what can it be ? " 
 
 " I beg you to have patience with my tale ; it is 
 rather a long one. . . ." 
 
 " My time is perfectly free, and I long to hear 
 what makes your sister unhappy." 
 
 " What makes us all unhappy is my brother's 
 marriage and the new ways thoughtlessly intro- 
 duced by the Countess into our house. You know, 
 Mademoiselle, with what tact and devotion my 
 mother had organized life at the chateau, to give 
 as much pleasure as possible to her children 
 and to spare them the pains resulting from their 
 infirmity." 
 
 " I knew and admired it," said Helene respect- 
 fully. 
 
 " She had devoted herself entirely to her task," 
 the Marquis pursued, " and could understand her 
 children thoroughly ; she had developed in them 
 all the love of study, of knowledge and art, and 
 had contrived to establish in her silent realm a 
 flow of constant interest and intercourse. I helped 
 her to the best of my ability, and renounced for 
 my brother's and sisters' sakes the kind of exist- 
 ence befitting the heir of our house. So long as 
 we were alone, or witli friends like yourself and 
 your father, they did not feel shut out of human 
 intercourse ; they were not ashamed of their mis-
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 239 
 
 fortune ; they could still enjoy life, because their 
 inferiority to others was not constantly recalled to 
 their minds by comparison. But now, with the 
 chateau full of indifferent guests, they are either 
 banished to solitude or condemned to ever-recur- 
 ring torture ; be it at their own table, in the salons, 
 even out in the gardens, they cannot escape from 
 the curious observation of the Countess's friends ! " 
 
 "It is very, very painful ! " said Helene, deeply 
 moved. " I feel for them, and . . . for you, M. le 
 Marquis. Is there no possible remedy ? " 
 
 " Yes, there is one, and I mean to apply it, — 
 with your help," he added quite softly. 
 
 " My help ! . . ." exclaimed Helene, lost in 
 surprise. 
 
 " Yes, if you will give it me. The realization 
 of this plan — of this dream — would make me per- 
 fectly happy ; it would give me what I want . . . 
 ah ! so much, — a true heart in return for my affec- 
 tion, and the companionship of a generous mind. 
 The thoughtfulness of my mother for her child- 
 ren's welfare would revive, and the same spirit 
 would reign at the chateau." The voice of Hec- 
 tor de Civray was now warm and tremulous ; He- 
 lene no longer dared to look at him. He pursued: 
 " The Countess has usurped my wife's place, my 
 wife's rights of dominion, and I do not care to 
 claim these rights for myself; as soon, however, 
 as there is a Marquise de Civray de Champignol,
 
 240 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 the Countess will sink into nothingness." Here 
 the Marquis got up, and coming in front of Hdlene, 
 bowed with respectful dignity as he said : " Will 
 you do me the honor to become Marquise de Civ- 
 ray ? . . ." This offer had been made in a lofty 
 tone, clearly indicating that the nobleman Mas 
 fully aware of the value attached to the title he 
 might confer; but his manner and voice suddenly 
 altered when he added passionately : " Will you 
 do me the favor to become my wife ? . . . You 
 know — you must know — that I have loved you 
 for many years ; but I hesitated to ask you to re- 
 nounce the cheerful life which might be in store for 
 you for the dreariness of the chateau ; still, I knew 
 that you did not shrink from it, that you loved 
 Irene, and came of your own free will among us. 
 I also hesitated because — I could not offer you 
 the first place then. I would not have placed 
 any one above my mother ; but now, say that you 
 will consent to share my life, with its pains and 
 joys, and you will make me happier than I have 
 ever been." He stood eagerly watching Hdlene's 
 countenance : she did not pretend to be surprised 
 or bewildered, she looked exceedingly sad and 
 compassionate. 
 
 " I believe every word you have said," she 
 answered, her voice trembling with emotion, " and 
 I am not insensible to the honor you are doing me. 
 ... I am very sorry to be unable to accept it."
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 241 
 
 " Are you afraid of the duties incumbent on the 
 position ? . . . I consider you perfectly equal to 
 them. Or have you some objection that I did not 
 foresee ? . . . You only shake your head. . . . Ah, 
 unhappy fool that I am ! " he exclaimed violently, 
 " I kuow well enough the objection that you will 
 not state. ... Of course you cannot love me!" 
 
 " Do not be unjust, M. de Civray. We all have 
 a great affection for you, and the proof that you 
 count upon it, is in the confidence that you have just 
 placed in me," answered Helene reproachfully. 
 
 " Affection is not love, Mademoiselle. How can 
 I be contented with a cold assurance of affection 
 when I ask for your love ? . . . But the fault 
 is mine. I don't know what power impelled me 
 to offer myself to the humiliation of a refusal I 
 was certain of meeting ! ... It was despair, I be- 
 lieve. To return hopeless to my solitary life, it 
 was necessary that I should hear from your own 
 lips that you cannot love me. . . . Still, had it been 
 otherwise, I think I might have made your exist- 
 ence happy and enviable ; for I should have wor- 
 shipped you, — had I been allowed, — and every 
 one of your wishes would have been law to me." 
 
 " Have you reflected, M. le Marquis, about the 
 blame that such a marriage would have brought 
 upon you ? . . . Even your nearest relations might 
 have resented it. It may be better as it is for 
 both of us." 
 
 16
 
 242 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 "Nobody has any right over my actions; my 
 mother's authority was the only one I submitted 
 to, and it no longer exists. Whatever I choose to 
 do, I am responsible only to myself, and my sense 
 of honor and dignity is not beneath my station. I 
 am fully convinced that I should not wrong my 
 family by an alliance with so noble a woman as you, 
 and I would make every one understand it." 
 
 " I can only thank you for your good opinion of 
 me. . . . Pray do not be hurt, do not be grieved, 
 because it is impossible for me to accept your offer. 
 I feel deeply touched ..." She could not pro- 
 ceed ; she had lost all control over her voice ; the 
 tears stood in her eyes as she saw the terrible dis- 
 couragement of the Marquis's countenance. 
 
 " You feel for me, you pity me ! Yes, I see that," 
 he resumed in a low tone ; " you think he is more 
 to be pitied than blamed for not realizing his in- 
 feriority. Poor man ! How can he hope to be 
 loved, with his clouded and diminished faculties, 
 shattered health, and threatening future ? . . ." 
 
 " Ah, Monsieur ! " cried Hdlene in sore distress 
 and rising from her chair, " this is too cruel ! I 
 affirm that you are the only one to think so ungen- 
 erously of yourself, and that you are alone in the 
 belief that you have not entirely recovered what 
 you had lost momentarily in your illness. Ask 
 my father, if you don't believe me." 
 
 " I wish I could believe you, I wish it ardently !
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 243 
 
 But if it is true, then why reject me ? . . . There 
 is only one other possible motive; . . . but I have 
 no right to question you . . . No, do not try to raise 
 me iu my own eyes ; I am well aware of my defi- 
 ciencies. I beg your pardon for my temerity ; try 
 to forget it ! " There was an accent so terribly 
 wild and concentrated at the same time in M. de 
 Civray's voice that a great fear of something fatal 
 made HeTene lay her hand on the arm of the Mar- 
 quis, to prevent him from going away, and with 
 flushed face and sudden resolution she said : " You 
 force me to confess that the reason of my refusal is 
 my love for another. Are you satisfied now ? " 
 
 M. de Civray remained speechless, this frank 
 avowal was so unsuspected ! He felt that nothing 
 less than real compassion for his grief could have 
 made so proud a girl betray her secret. He looked 
 at her handsome face suffused with a burning 
 blush, and knew what the confession must have 
 cost her. He sighed, and at last said : " Made- 
 moiselle, I duly appreciate your generous confi- 
 dence, though it destroys all possibility of hope 
 for me. . . . There is only one other thing I want 
 to say : if ever you should be destined to know 
 what unrequited love is, or if events should frus- 
 trate the fulfilment of your present wishes, remem- 
 ber that I would gratefully accept whatever was 
 left of affection in your heart, and that I should 
 still consider myself happy through this gift. Do
 
 244 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 not think, however, that I am so basely selfish as 
 to desire that it were so. No ; in taking leave, 
 I beg you to accept my most sincere wishes for 
 your happiness, and to remember that if you ever 
 require the help of a friend, mine will be ready." 
 
 He was gone ; as soon as his footsteps had died 
 away, Hdlene rushed to her room, not to be sur- 
 prised in tears when her father or mother came 
 back. How painful it had been to wound such a 
 chivalrous heart as M. de Civray's ! . . . She knew 
 what he must have suspected when he spoke of 
 unrequited love : he had thought of Pearce ; yet 
 if he could see the truth, he would find himself 
 far above this supposed rival in her affection. He 
 was mistaken, as she had been herself for some 
 time. She had told him the truth almost un- 
 awares, — how did it escape out of her heart ? how 
 did the almost unconscious utterance of it by her 
 own lips convey the true meaning to her brain ? 
 . . . Why ? This knowledge came too late, now ! 
 "When Happiness presented herself in simple gar- 
 ments, in homely guise, she had said: "This can- 
 not be the goddess that all mortals seek, it is a 
 beggar usurping her name ! " And the goddess 
 was expelled, in spite of the warning awe felt by 
 human hearts in the presence of deities. Since 
 then, false goddesses had tried to allure her by the 
 splendor of their appearance and the seduction 
 of their promises ; but they lacked the signs of
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 245 
 
 heavenly origin, and had been allowed to go their 
 way. Would she recall the divine visitor she had 
 refused to entertain ? . . . ]STo ! she was too proud ; 
 she had made a grievous mistake, and she must 
 bear the consequences. 
 
 Helene found some relief from her sad thoughts 
 in the necessary preparations for her brother's 
 visit. The bachelor's room was no longer con- 
 sidered sufficient, and a pretty little apartment 
 had been arranged for the youug couple, with an 
 attic for Margot, who was to accompany them. 
 " Tell Toinette," Olive wrote, " that we shall bring 
 Margot with us (not that I need a lady's maid), but 
 to let her have the benefit of Toinette's teaching. 
 She promises to be very obedient, and Jean (who is 
 somewhat of a gourmet, you know) would like her 
 to learn, for his own benefit, some of the recipes 
 for his favorite dishes." 
 
 Madame Mole" read this passage of the letter to 
 Toinette, and asked her if she had any objection 
 to the proposed plan. "Margot will be a great 
 help, you know ; and this is a point to be consid- 
 ered, as there will be more work," she remarked. 
 
 " As to the work, Madame, I think I could get 
 through it with the boy, who is beginning to wait 
 neatly and can run the errands, though he often 
 forgets half of them; and Mathieu, with nothing 
 to do now in the garden, is willing enough to do 
 the rough work, and it spares time, despite his
 
 246 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 clumsiness. (Test drole, tout de mime, but some 
 people can't be handy, and Mathieu is one of those. 
 If he brings water, he spills it all the way ; if it 's 
 wood, he does not pile it up square, but throws 
 it into a clumsy heap. When he cleans boots, or 
 knives, or whatever it is, he raises such a dust that 
 he sends you through a fit of sneezing ; but for all 
 that, he does a good deal of work, and as I never let 
 him enter my kitchen, it does not signify so much." 
 
 "Then you would rather do without Margot, 
 eh ? " asked Madame Mold. 
 
 " Oh ! I think I can put up with her, Madame, 
 for M. Jean's sake. What Madame Jean says is 
 very true about his liking to have sometimes one 
 of the dishes he was accustomed to ; and I know 
 Margot, she is a sensible, well-mannered girl. I 
 fancy I shall be able to make something of her, so 
 that she may be a credit to me in Paris when M. 
 Jean's friends visit him." 
 
 And so, Toinette's leave being given, Margot 
 came to Champignol with her master and mis- 
 tress, who afterwards noticed a great improvement 
 in her cookery. 
 
 They remained a fortnight, during which Jean 
 went to see the Marquis, but could not undertake 
 the decoration of his salon, on account of the works 
 begun in Paris ; however, he agreed to paint for M. 
 de Civray two important panels, which he would 
 have a right to exhibit first. When he came back
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 247 
 
 from the chateau he told his mother that he had 
 been painfully impressed by the altered looks of 
 the Marquis. " Still, he ought to be pleased with 
 the news he has confided to me. The Countess 
 soon hopes to have a child." 
 
 " I daresay he has more dread than hope about 
 the event," said M. Mole ; " he looks upon it as 
 most important for the future of the family, par- 
 ticularly if it is an heir, as he is absolutely 
 determined to remain single." 
 
 " Has he told you so ? " his wife asked. 
 
 " Yes, quite lately, when he consulted me about 
 La Saulaie, which he wishes to secure as a piecl-a- 
 terre when he comes down to Champignol from the 
 chateau. Now that the owner has decided to re- 
 main in Paris and to sell her property here, I hope 
 to get it for the Marquis by private agreement." 
 
 " I am sorry for my aunt, in case she comes to 
 stay here again, as it will be difficult to find such 
 a charming place as La Saulaie," Olive said. 
 
 " It would be impossible on the same terms," 
 answered M. Mold ; " but I knew that such a fine 
 property as the one attached to the house could 
 not be allowed to remain unproductive much 
 longer. It 's worth four hundred thousand francs." 
 
 "Then you have refused the Marquis," said 
 Olive in a low voice and bending close to He'lene. 
 " I think you were right, dear, but I pity him ; I 
 always knew he was in love with you."
 
 248 GOLDEN MEDIOCBITY. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 A great shock awaited Helene on her arrival 
 in Paris ; she found Madame Ledoyen in such a 
 weak condition that she could hardly leave her 
 couch by the drawing-room fire, and was unable 
 to relieve by work the tediousness of a life en- 
 tirely concentrated in one thought, — her son. 
 
 "You look very tired," He'lene said to her, for 
 it was impossible to pretend that the change was 
 not noticeable. 
 
 " Yes, tired of waiting," she answered in a trem- 
 ulous voice. She had no longer the strength to 
 disguise her grief. 
 
 Still Hdleue went on attempting to cheer her : 
 " More than half your waiting time is over now ; 
 you must begin to look forward to Maxime's return 
 and to your happy meeting." 
 
 "I could hardly bear for another eighteen 
 months what I have borne since he went away, 
 even with the certainty that it would end then; 
 and I have no such certainty." 
 
 " I thought Maxime had promised to come back 
 after three years," said Helene, growing pale and 
 in a faltering voice.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 249 
 
 " No, he made no promise ; he said that he 
 took an engagement for three years, and would 
 see afterwards." 
 
 " Oh ! but he is sure to come as soon as he is 
 free." 
 
 Madame Ledoyen shook her head dubiously. 
 
 " It 's very wrong to make yourself ill with 
 anxiety ; you ought now to take care of your 
 health, so that he may find you strong and well 
 when he comes. I will tell you what we must 
 do, now that I am near : we must consult a good 
 doctor, and I shall nurse and cure you. Think 
 how painful it would be for Maxime to find you 
 ailing on his return!" 
 
 " But, my dear Helene, I am not ill, and doctors 
 can do me no good." 
 
 " Have you told Maxime of this weakness ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! I don't want him to be wretched on 
 my account." She put a slightly bitter emphasis 
 on the word " my," which did not escape the girl's 
 sensitiveness. " I always say that I am quite well ; 
 for even if I were really dangerously ill, the time 
 the news would take before reaching him, together 
 with that required for his voyage, would make him 
 too late to find me." 
 
 " But luckily, as you said, you are not ill ; only 
 I don't like to see you neglecting to strengthen 
 yourself. I am sure if Maxime knew how weak 
 you are he would insist upon getting the advice of
 
 250 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 a doctor; that is why I asked if you had told 
 him." 
 
 In spite of remonstrances and pleadings, Madame 
 Ledoyen gave no promise. It was easy to see that 
 she did not care to live, and Hellene was horrified 
 at the thought that she might be the cause of her 
 death. She told her fears to Jean, and discovered 
 that he had entertained the same for some time. 
 "I had even thought of writing to Maxime," he 
 said ; " but I put it off, hoping that his mother 
 might get better. As she grows worse, however, 
 I think he must be told. He would have a right 
 to reproach us afterwards for not having warned 
 him, if he lost her." 
 
 As they were both of the same opinion, he wrote 
 shortly after this : — 
 
 " I hope you '11 forgive me, my dear fellow, for sending 
 you bad news of your mother's health. She says she is 
 not ill, but the fact is, your absence is killing her, — at 
 least I think so, and so does Helene. There is no imme- 
 diate danger, but we notice a gradual diminution of 
 strength every time we see her. Now you are not to 
 fancy that I am mincing matters; I state the facts just 
 as they are, only I thought you ought to be told, even if 
 our fears are exaggerated. Could you not get a leave of 
 absence? I believe that would effect a certain cure, with- 
 out any other medicine. 
 
 " If you come, you '11 find me as proud as a peacock on 
 account of my success, of my medal, and of my wife. I 
 have a good mind to give an order to your Company 
 (through you) for a set of their finest diamonds, to make
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 251 
 
 Olive a present. You could get them cheap for me, I dare- 
 say, being on the spot. Well, everything considered, I '11 
 wait till I get a fii'3t medal and more commissions; I ex- 
 pect you to admire my prudent conduct under the circum- 
 stances. Perhaps you will have filled your pockets with 
 diamonds, and you may be disposed to exchange a few of 
 your stones against some of my masterpieces: that would 
 do very well. I should not mind their being only Cape 
 diamonds, provided they are white, as you told me that 
 the white ones were sold as Brazilians, just as the yellow- 
 ish Brazilians were said to come from the Cape, — to 
 save the reputation of Brazil! 
 
 "I have not much news to interest you. except, per- 
 haps, that Helene seems decided a coiffer Sainte Catherine ; 
 my mother tells me she has refused scores of offers. The 
 fact is, she was right. I don't see any one worthy of her, 
 — except one that you know. 
 
 " The idea of seeing you sooner than I had expected, 
 
 makes me crazy with joy; so, old fellow, don't disappoint 
 
 me if you can help it. 
 
 " Jean. 
 
 "P. S. Xot a word of this letter to your mother, 
 of course." 
 
 Olive, delighted at the importance she had ac- 
 quired, acted her character of chaperone towards her 
 sister with a punctiliousness which vastly amused 
 her husband. "The idea of you protecting Hdlene 
 is irresistible!" he used to say, laughing outright, 
 when they went out together. 
 
 " I should like to know why ? " Olive an- 
 swered, pursing up her lips and pretending to be 
 wounded.
 
 252 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " Because she looks ten times more demure than 
 you do, my pretty flitting bird," he would say, 
 giving her a kiss ; " and I don't fancy that I 
 should let you go without me, were it not for her 
 sedateness." 
 
 " Don't I look like a married woman, then ? " 
 
 " Not very matronly yet, despite your bonnet- 
 strings ; still, I will let you go if you promise and 
 swear to come back early. Is it not magnanimous 
 when I remain shut up, daubing away ? " 
 
 " Well, if you promise to be very good, — that 
 is, to work very hard, without smoking too many 
 cigarettes, — we may perhaps be home for an 
 early dinner, and then to the theatre." 
 
 " That 's a capital plan ; I '11 work like mad ! " 
 
 Under pretext of entertaining Hdlene during 
 her stay, Olive and Jean, who were both very fond 
 of the theatre, often proposed to go, and often went. 
 "It's rather expensive," they said to each other, 
 "but we shall economize when we are by our- 
 selves ; besides, it is still our honeymoon." 
 
 When Hdlene left them, a month later, it was 
 with the grateful conviction that they were per- 
 fectly happy. 
 
 M. Mule" had come for his daughter, and vainly 
 attempted to induce Madame Ledoyen to accom- 
 pany them. In vain did he represent that the 
 ] mrcr air of the country and a change of scene 
 would help her to regain strength. She thanked
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 253 
 
 him for his kindness, but remained obdurate. 
 " She does not wish to recover," lie said to himself. 
 Two months later, he received the following 
 letter from Madame Ledoyen : — 
 
 My dear Friexd, — I cannot wait an hour before tell- 
 ing you my happy news. Maxime is coming home ! Judge 
 of my joy. He is called here by the directors of his Com- 
 pany to be consulted upon important matters, and does 
 not know yet whether he will be sent back afterwards; 
 but I won't think about this possibility. The certainty 
 of seeing him soon — in about five weeks, he says — has 
 made me already so much better that I expect to be quite 
 well to receive him ; and I don't intend to let him know 
 that I have been ill at all. Pray keep my secret. 
 
 I trust you will pardon my seeming ungratefulness 
 and heartlessness when I saw you last, for I was so utterly 
 wretched that I wished I might be relieved forever from 
 such pains as I endured. Xow I shall be more reason- 
 able, and perhaps happy still, if Maxime remains with 
 me. 
 
 With heartfelt thanks for all your kindness, I remain, 
 
 my dear friend, yours, etc. 
 
 Marie Ledoyen. 
 
 The conflict of emotions was very great in the 
 heart of Hedene when she read this letter. Shu 
 did not share Madame Ledoyen's hope of seeing 
 Maxime remain permanently, because she was 
 aware of the cause that brought him home. He 
 did not wish to come ; he did not come of his own 
 accord. Filial duty called him to his mother's 
 side, and he obeyed it ; no doubt as soon as his
 
 254 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 tears were relieved he would go away again. Ma- 
 dame Ledoyeu, kept in happy ignorance of Jean's 
 letter to her son, might believe that he was glad 
 of the opportunity to return, which had been in- 
 vented for her sake ; but Helene had no such illu- 
 sions. Still, she began to dream that it would 
 be sweet to see him again and to renew the old 
 friendly intercourse, if he came; but would he 
 come to them after his rejection ? ... It was not 
 likely; but in spite of all her doubts she was 
 hopeful. 
 
 In the beginning of April, Irene de Civray was 
 brought by her brother to see Hdlene, who never 
 went to the chateau now that la Marquise was dead. 
 Her father did not much like to meet the Countess, 
 whose manners with him were somewhat patroni- 
 zing. The late Marquise had always treated him 
 on a footing of equality, well knowing that he would 
 accept no other, ami confident that he would always 
 act with the reserve of a perfect gentleman ; her 
 way of introducing him to her titled and aristo- 
 cratic acquaintances plainly indicated that she re- 
 quired them to treat him as she herself did. " M. 
 Mole'," she used to say, " our kind neighbor and 
 trusty friend." Of course after this he was, for 
 the time being, the equal of those present. But 
 he was not for the Countess what he had been 
 for la Marquise; and although M. de Civray 
 had plainly shown what degree of politeness he
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 255 
 
 expected for M. Mold when he required all the 
 family to attend at his son's wedding, there 
 was an unavoidable change which kept M. Mole* 
 and his daughter aloof. Irene understood it ; 
 but suffering as she did from the altered customs 
 of the chateau, she could not bear to be entirely- 
 deprived of her friend, and had begged her brother 
 to take her occasionally to Madame Mold's. This 
 he had consented to do several times, leaving 
 her for an hour or two, and coming to fetch her 
 afterwards. On these occasions he exchanged only 
 a few phrases with Helene ; but these rapid mo- 
 ments were the happiest of his existence : his sister 
 seemed so much brighter, so much cheered by these 
 visits, after pouring her pent-up sorrows and confi- 
 dences into her friend's heart, and Helene's man- 
 ners with him had undergone a remarkable change. 
 No longer afraid of what he might say, since deli- 
 cacy forbade him the dreaded subject, she allowed 
 herself to be more friendly, more sympathetic ; she 
 talked to him with ease and readiness, and he was 
 aware of a much closer intimacy between them, 
 and of warmer sentiments towards him : it was a 
 sort of bitter solace to his hopeless love, and at 
 the same time a recognition of his hisrh character. 
 HeK-ne wished him to feel that, unable to give him 
 her love, she offered her friendship. 
 
 This time Irene had two important pieces of 
 news to communicate : the first was the birth of a
 
 256 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 son to her brother the Count, over which she greatly 
 rejoiced ; the second, her coining journey to Nice 
 where she would stay some time with the Marquis 
 on the advice of his doctor. The climate of Charn- 
 pignol was too variable for the present state of his 
 lungs, and they would have to remain in the South 
 till summer time. She seemed to enjoy the pros- 
 pect of a change, and gayly took leave of her 
 friend ; while Helene, incapable of shaking off a 
 host of sad forebodings, looked after the retreating 
 figure of the Marquis, her eyes full of tears. 
 
 By a strange coincidence, Mrs. Stodard wrote to 
 He'leue a few days afterwards to tell her that she 
 was going to take her stepdaughter to Nice, and 
 how pleased she would be if they could contrive to 
 meet somewhere. She should stop in Paris for a 
 few days, to have the pleasure of calling upon 
 M. and Madame Jean Mole ; perhaps if the Salon 
 were open, lldlene would pilot her through it, etc. 
 
 Hdlene would have been delighted to see Mrs. 
 Stodard, whose kindness in London she had not 
 forgotten ; but she hardly knew how to manage it. 
 She could not ask her to come to Champignol, it 
 was too much out of her way. Then at any other 
 time it would have been simple enough to go to 
 Paris; but as Maxime was expected just at that 
 time, and "as she could not avoid calling upon his 
 mother, it was very awkward. Still, she wrote 
 that she would try to meet Mrs. Stodard in Paris.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 257 
 
 Meanwhile her heart yearned for news of Maxime's 
 arrival ; it must be very near now. 
 
 One evening, at dusk, there came a telegram for 
 her father; and never doubting it contained what 
 she had been awaiting for some time, she took it 
 herself to the study, and listened, much moved, 
 to hear the contents. M. Mole read aloud : — 
 
 The " Naiade," with Maxime on board, is overdue ; the 
 Company have no neAvs. Oh ! where must I inquire 1 
 
 Marie Ledoyen. 
 
 M. Mold's voice failed, and he could not de- 
 tach his eyes from the blue paper, but went on 
 reading it over and over again, though he had 
 understood the contents but too well. He'lene 
 instinctively caught the back of a chair to steady 
 herself. For a moment everything whirled about 
 her, and she felt very faint ; but she rallied soon, 
 and went to lay her hand upon her father's shoul- 
 der. He looked up, and shaking himself energeti- 
 cally, said : " There is nothing in it to alarm us, 
 only we were taken rather by surprise; it hap- 
 pens very frequently that vessels are kept out a 
 few days longer by very trilling accidents. It 
 may be the weather, or it may be something get- 
 ting out of order in the machinery ; I must at once 
 write all this to poor Madame Ledoyen, who is so 
 apt to get anxious." 
 
 These reflections, although perfectly reasonable, 
 
 17
 
 258 GOLDEN MEDIOCKITY. 
 
 brought very little comfort to Hdlene, who saw 
 that her father's brow betrayed serious uneasiness. 
 
 Two days passed, bringing no news ; a week fol- 
 lowed, during which M. Mole" telegraphed the same 
 inquiries to the Steamship Company every day, and 
 every day the same answer was returned : " No in- 
 formation has reached us yet." The dreaded con- 
 sequence soon followed, — Madame Ledoyen, unable 
 to resist the strain of constant anxiety, had been 
 stricken with paralysis. M. Mole - immediately de- 
 cided to start for Paris with He'lene : his daughter 
 would take care of the afflicted mother, while he 
 did everything in his power to ascertain the fate of 
 her son. 
 
 When they saw Madame Ledoyen she had recov- 
 ered consciousness, but was so weak and feverish 
 that she could not leave her bed. The doctor had 
 recommended that she should be kept as quiet as 
 possible; but how was that to be achieved when 
 she continually asked for newspapers and insisted 
 upon reading herself all the despatches, both in the 
 morning and evening editions ? Nothing could be 
 withheld from her ; and this dangerous excitement 
 was rapidly wearing away the little strength she 
 still possessed. He'lene had offered to read aloud 
 whatever might interest her: but she was too sus- 
 picious to accept ; she even sent her maid to get 
 other papers than those brought by her friends, in 
 older to be certain that nothing was kept from her.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 259 
 
 In this manner she became acquainted with the 
 terrible intelligence headed : — 
 
 COLLISION OF THE NAIADE AND MERMAN. 
 
 Fearful loss of life at sea. 
 
 Marseilles, April 28. 
 The "Merman" entered our port to-day to be repaired, 
 after having collided with the " Na'iade " near Cape Verd 
 and having sustained serious damage. She brings four- 
 teen passengers of the " Na'iade " who could be rescued 
 before their ship sank. A boat full of people was sucked 
 under the ill-fated vessel, together with a young engineer 
 and his dog, whose united efforts had helped several 
 persons into the boats lowered from the "Merman." 
 After the sinking of the " Naiade " the "Merman" re- 
 mained on the spot for two hours, in the hope of saving 
 those who might be floating about, especially the young 
 man who had shown such courage; but he had disap- 
 peared, and no trace of his faithful dog could be found. 
 They must have perished exhausted. 
 
 Madame Ledoyen fainted before reading the 
 details which followed. When she rallied, she 
 felt M. Mold's hands holding hers, and she saw 
 Helene kneeling at the bedside, her face buried 
 in the folds of the blankets, her shoulders violently- 
 shaken by irrepressible sobs. She wrenched her 
 hand free from the friendly grasp rudely to push 
 away the girl's head. "Get up," she said in a 
 harsh, unnatural voice; "get up, and leave me 
 alone ! I can't bear your presence." Pier eyes
 
 260 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 were dry, her mouth twitched, a high color was on 
 her cheek. Hdlene, frightened, had risen to her 
 feet. "Oh, don't send me away!" she cried amid 
 her sobs. " My heart is broken like yours ; I 
 loved him ! " And she threw her arms about 
 Madame Ledoyen, who could only clasp the trem- 
 bling form to her bosom and let her tears fall fast 
 upon the young head bent like her own by the 
 same sorrow. Her anger did not resist the humble 
 confession, the tender appeal. " You loved him, 
 dear," she whispered low. " "We shall mourn 
 together." 
 
 Vainly did M. Mole - attempt to rekindle some 
 hope after this, vainly did he recall many instan- 
 ces of wonderful escapes from the same kind of ca- 
 lamity which destroyed the " Na'iade," and vainly 
 did he insist upon the fact that Maxime had not 
 been seen sinking, nor had the body of Pacha 
 floated among the corpses. " They must have sunk 
 together, exhausted," said poor Madame Ledoyen 
 amid her tears. " Ah, my friend, let me try to bear 
 my cross with resignation, that I may join him 
 soon !" From that moment her grief was calmer. 
 Her tears flowed quietly and constantly ; she hardly 
 spoke, but sometimes pressed Ildlene's cold hands 
 affectionately, and looked pitifully into the swollen 
 eyes and blanched face. 
 
 It was a terrible time for M. Mole*, who read 
 his daughter's despair in every one of her actions,
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 261 
 
 though she fought against herself with great energy 
 for his sake. He longed to remove his child from 
 the mournful influences surrounding her, but did 
 not see how it could be done without inflicting 
 another cruel blow upon Madame Ledoyen. That 
 she would soon succumb under her sorrow was 
 only too probable ; but must he allow Hedene to 
 remain with her till the end? Meanwhile he tried 
 to persuade himself that all hope was not lost, and 
 indefatigably inquired for details and particulars 
 at the Ministere de la Marine, where he Lad 
 friends, or kept up a correspondence with the 
 bureaux maritimes for the same purpose. 
 
 A week after the fatal intelligence had reached 
 Madame Ledoyen, Hedene noticed that her father, 
 usually so punctual for his morning call, was late. 
 He took his meals with his daughter, who stayed 
 with her friend, and their dejeuner was at ten; still 
 the clock struck half-past, and then eleven, and 
 M. Mold had not arrived. A great anguish wrung 
 Hedene's heart. Had anything happened to her 
 father? Madame Ledoyen had not noticed his 
 absence, and the girl dared not mention her fears. 
 At last — it was near twelve — the well-known 
 step was heard, and Hedene's anxious ear detected 
 something peculiar in it which made her hasten 
 to look in her father's face ; but there was no re- 
 sponse to her eagerness, except a long and tender 
 embrace. During dejeuner she remarked that her
 
 262 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 father's appetite seemed better and that he ate 
 with a certain pleasure. "What of that ? It was so 
 late ! . . . How strange, too, that instead of resting 
 his eyes upon hers with the watchful expression 
 they had assumed of late, he avoided looking at 
 her, and there was in his voice an unwonted 
 tremor ! . . . She furtively noted all this, together 
 with the restlessness which made him hurry his 
 meal and walk to and fro while he drank his 
 coffee. " I must be off," he said as soon as he 
 had finished it. " In case I do not come to-night 
 or to-morrow, you must not be anxious, He'lene. 
 I may be obliged to absent myself for a short 
 time; but Jean and Olive will not leave }^ou alone 
 in that case." He tried to speak naturally, uncon- 
 cernedly ; but his tremulous voice betrayed him. 
 
 " Oh, father," cried He'lene, leaning her face on 
 his breast, " you know something ! " 
 
 " Hush, child ! hush, dear!" he answered in an 
 alarmed tone. "She might hear, and it might kill 
 her l " 
 
 " Oh, tell me, tell me what it is ! " and she 
 I ightened her hands over her heart and listened 
 breathlessly. 
 
 " Compose yourself. ... It is not much ; it may 
 not be true; it's very vague. ... A vessel lias 
 brought to Marseilles a survivor from a shipwreck 
 — they say he lias been picked up from one of 
 the Cape Verd islands."
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 263 
 
 "Do they mention the name of the ship in 
 which he was wrecked ? " 
 
 " Yes . . . the ' Naiade,' they say ; but it may 
 be a mistake," said M. Mole, taking his daughter 
 in his arms and gently stroking her hair. 
 
 "Oh, father, go ! I shall pray, I shall try not to 
 hope ; but do not keep me long without news." 
 
 " No, dear ; but I must go now, for the answers 
 to my telegrams are sent to Jean's address. I 
 dared not expose Madame Ledoyen to any excite- 
 ment." Another tender kiss on her brow, and he 
 was gone. 
 
 In spite of all her efforts to remain calm, Hdlene 
 was alternately thrown from the pinnacle of hope 
 into the abyss of despair. She found it almost 
 unendurable to sit there thinking with her aching 
 brain, which could not rest, and awaiting and 
 dreading news, listening to every sound with 
 throbbing heart and in a paroxysm of agitation. 
 From time to time she shut her eyes and tried to 
 lull her senses into a state of forget fulness. She 
 wished to faint, to die, — anything rather than feel 
 any longer ; but she was strong and healthy, and 
 could suffer much. 
 
 Her father did not come to dinner, but sent a 
 commissionnaire with a short note: "It is affirmed 
 that the rescued passenger was in the ' Naiade.' 
 I shall know his name some time to-night. . . . 
 Let us hope."
 
 264 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 Oh, the weary hours to be counted by every 
 one of their long minutes till dawn ! The passion- 
 ate prayers and entreaties sent heavenwards ! The 
 thought of what might be if God willed ! . . . 
 
 Towards morning Hellene, worn out by such 
 prolonged expectation, was beginning to be faint 
 and sick. She had not gone to bed, but had lain 
 on the sofa in Madame Ledoyen's bedroom, and 
 felt the want of a little fresh air. Not to disturb 
 the sufferer, she thought she would go to the 
 next room to breathe at the window. As she got 
 near the door she heard a shuffle, a scream ; and 
 as she opened it she was nearly thrown down by 
 the rush of a large dog, who ran straight to Ma- 
 dame Ledoyen's bed and impetuously licked her 
 hands, her face, and whined and barked wildly. 
 
 " Pacha ! " cried Madame Ledoyen, raising her- 
 self with sudden energy; and clasping the great 
 black head in her arms, she continued: " Pacha, 
 oi'i est ton maltre ? " 
 
 Pacha gave the only answer in his power; he 
 looked towards the door and frantically jumped 
 and whined, smelling every object in the room, 
 to come back to his mistress and lick her hands 
 
 again. 
 
 Ilelene had come trembling to the bedside and 
 fondly stroked Pacha's silky coat; he knew her 
 well, and returned her caresses. 
 
 Madame Ledoyen and Ildlene looked at each
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 265 
 
 other, but dared not speak. The girl passed one 
 arm around her friend's neck and held her fast; 
 they both scrutinized the dog's movements. Now 
 he was sitting wagging his tail in quieter content- 
 ment, his intelligent eyes fixed upon those of his 
 mistress. 
 
 " Oh, Helene ! what can it mean ? " faintly 
 gasped Madame Ledoyen. The girl's sobs were her 
 sole answer. " mon Dieu ! mon Dicu ! give me 
 back my child, or let me die ! " murmured the poor 
 mother as she sank on her pillows. Presently 
 Pacha pricked his ears, jumped up, and sprang 
 through the open door to the stairs, barking 
 tumultuously. Madame Ledoyen closed her eyes, 
 while Hdlene stared, incapable of moving. They 
 were both conscious of hurried footsteps in the 
 adjoining room, of a short pause at the door, of a 
 panting breath, a spring, a shower of kisses upon 
 the poor mother's eyes, hair, and brow, and of a 
 tight clasp uniting them together. 
 
 " C'est toi ! c'est bien toi ! " repeated Madame 
 Ledoyen, looking rapturously at her son. 
 
 "Yes, you see him strong and hale," cheerily 
 said M. Mold, whose pace was not equal to 
 Maxime's, and who had just entered the room. 
 " Down, Pacha ! down, you betrayer ! . . . How 
 slily he escaped us, the indiscreet rogue, while we 
 were carefully planning how to prepare you for 
 this resurrection, Madame Ledoyen!"
 
 266 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 " mon ami !" she said, holding out one of her 
 hands to him, and retaining her son's in the other, 
 "happiness requires no preparation. See how I 
 hear it ! My dent of gratitude to you is increased 
 tenfold." 
 
 " We will talk of that hereafter. First of all, 
 you must recover your strength to enjoy what is 
 in store for you." 
 
 " Ah ! but I feel strong already. Maxima, 
 promise that you will not go away . . . again ! " 
 she said, more and more faintly. 
 
 " No, no, never ; be sure of it ! " 
 
 She had swooned, but quickly came to herself 
 again under his caresses ; then she drew his head 
 close to her lips and murmured : " I believe it, for 
 Hellene would not let you go another time." 
 
 " Have you heard what my mother says, He'lene, 
 and can it be true ? " he asked tenderly. 
 
 " It would be true if I had still any influence," 
 she answered, blushing. 
 
 " Then is it decided that I am to stay, between 
 you ? " 
 
 " If you like." 
 
 " Let me seal the pact," he said joyfully, and 
 with infinite tenderness he kissed the forehead that 
 was bent to him. " At last mine ! " he whispered 
 softly. 
 
 "And forever!" she answered.
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 207 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Mrs. Stodard arrived in Paris shortly after 
 these events, and was told of Hdlene's approach- 
 ing marriage. Maxime was introduced to her, 
 and so was Pacha, — the hero of the day, who 
 had saved his master's life when he sank exhausted 
 after rescuing seven fellow-passengers, and who 
 had carried him senseless to the nearest island. 
 Mrs. Stodard took a great liking for Maxime, and 
 one day confidentially said to Helene : " You have 
 shown wonderful discernment in your choice, my 
 dear. At one time I was rather in fear of your 
 love being bestowed unworthily." 
 
 Hdlene understood, and inwardly thanked God 
 who had enlightened her in time. She confided to 
 Mrs. Stodard a part of M. de Civray's history (exclu- 
 sive of his love for herself), and begged that lady 
 to send news and to watch over Irene in case of 
 any misfortune happening to her brother. Very 
 likely they might become acquainted at Nice, both 
 being the friends of M. Mole\ 
 
 Madame Ledoyen rapidly grew better, and M. 
 Mole" said that she might be intrusted to her son's 
 care while he returned with Hdlene to his long-
 
 268 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 neglected wife. But Maxirae, hardly certain yet 
 of the reality of his dream, could not bear the 
 idea of a separation from Hdlene, however short. 
 " When I was hopeless, I could tear myself from 
 your presence only with the greatest effort," he told 
 her ; " now that you are mine, it is impossible." 
 
 In consequence, it was arranged that they should 
 all go back to Champignol together, where Madame 
 Ledoyen would be in the most favorable conditions 
 to recruit her strength. Madame Mole" received 
 them a bras ouvcrts; and considering Pacha's repu- 
 tation, Toinette allowed him a rug at the side of 
 the kitchen-fire. 
 
 " How is this ? " exclaimed M. Mole", greatly 
 astonished, when he beheld Pacha's comfortable 
 establishment for the first time. " I thought you 
 could not tolerate even Jean's dogs, Toinette ! " 
 
 " That is true, Monsieur ; but Monsieur Jean's 
 dogs were fit only to kill and worry poor innocent 
 rabbits or partridges, while this one has saved 
 many people and his master. Why should not I 
 treat him as well as des Chretiens qui ne Ic valent 
 pas?" 
 
 "Your reasoning is perfectly just, Toinette, and 
 I hope that Pacha will duly appreciate the 
 compliment." 
 
 "I believe he understands most things, Mon- 
 sieur, by his looks ; but I am sure he appreciates 
 the bones I give him."
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. . 269 
 
 Fame reached Maxime even at Charapignol.^ 
 The passengers he had saved signed an address, 
 which came to him, with the cross of the legion 
 d'honneur, sent at their request by the Minister of 
 Marine ; and Helene was very proud to fasten the 
 narrow red ribbon in his button-hole. The Mayor 
 of Champiguol wished to improve the occasion by 
 making the reading of the address and presentation 
 of the cross the subject of a public and official 
 ceremony. But as Maxime threatened to go back 
 to the Cape if these intentions were carried out, 
 the Mayor had to be contented with the offer of 
 his complimeuts in private, regretting, nevertheless, 
 the lustre that such a glorious ceremony would 
 have imparted to his administration. 
 
 Maxime and He'lene were to be married in July ; 
 and the only drawback to their perfect happiness 
 was the absence of Mrs. Stodard, who dared not 
 leave Irene de Civray (with whom she had become 
 acquainted early at Nice) before the arrival of her 
 sister-in-law. The state of the Marquis being 
 such as to alarm his doctors, they had confided to 
 Mrs. Stodard that it was a case of phtisie galo- 
 pante, and that it was time his relations should be 
 summoned. 
 
 The wedding was delayed on account of this sad 
 news, and three weeks later the Marquis died, with 
 the satisfaction of learning that his brother's son, 
 the heir of the house de Civray de Champignol,
 
 270 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 was strong, healthy, and, like himself, had escaped 
 the hereditary infirmity of deafness. 
 
 Too weak to write, shortly before his death he 
 had dictated to Mrs. Stodard a letter for Helene, 
 in which " he thanked her for her delicate sym- 
 pathy, and begged that her friendship might be 
 continued to his poor sister Irene when he was 
 gone. He had secured La Saulaie to offer it to her 
 on her marriage, to enable the whole family to 
 meet at Champignol even when M. Mold's house 
 had become too small to accommodate his children 
 and his grandchildren ; and when she was there, 
 he hoped she might sometimes visit his tomb, 
 and remember that within it was a heart which 
 had loved her till death." 
 
 Helene was quite overcome by her grief for some 
 time, and hardly gave a thought to her forthcom- 
 ing marriage ; by degrees, however, she yielded to 
 Maxime's tender entreaties, and was married to 
 him in September. Her happiness and that of 
 her husband was quite of a different order from 
 the outward, outspoken, joyful happiness of Jean 
 and Olive. It was more intimate, more private, 
 more sensitive; there was in it something at once 
 religious and ideal. Theirs was a perfect union of 
 souls. 
 
 Nothing could give an adequate notion of 
 Toinette's delight on the wedding-day. She at- 
 tributed the marriage to no other power than that
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 271 
 
 possessed by the prayer she had faithfully recited 
 for that purpose ever since she promised Maxime 
 to do so, and she was therefore conscious of her 
 own importance in the transaction. She contem- 
 plated the bride with boundless admiration during 
 the ceremony, and was sorely vexed with the tears 
 which would gather in her eves and cloud the vision. 
 " Et dire, Mademoiselle, que vous eies madctme ! " she 
 exclaimed, bewildered, when the bride re-entered 
 the paternal house. 
 
 " Et Madame Maxime Ledoyen, encore! Does 
 that sound to your taste, Toinette ? " asked Max- 
 ime with a smile. 
 
 " It sounds far better than an outlandish name 
 that twists your mouth out of decent shape to 
 pronounce it," she answered with a wink. 
 
 M. and Madame Mote's children live in Paris, 
 but frequently go to Champignol, on account of 
 their mother, who never leaves it. Jean is now 
 celebrated, and the soirees he gives in his studio 
 have become famous. Nobody can refuse anything 
 to his charming wife, so that }'ou are sure to hear 
 there the best songs of the season sung by the best 
 singers, the newest monologue recited by the best 
 actor, the last successful poem read by the author. 
 Conversation is pleasantly varied, a studio being 
 a rendezvous for very different people. It is not 
 a political salon, nor a religious one, neither is it 
 forced to be scientific or literary; but politicians,
 
 272 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 
 
 savants, writers, and artists may all be interested 
 in works of art, and may meet in a studio and find 
 it agreeable to talk together. 
 
 The society received at Maxime Ledoyen's is 
 a shade more serious and uniform. M. Mole's 
 acquaintances in the University avail themselves 
 of the opportunity for meeting him again in his 
 daughter's house, and do not forget it afterwards ; 
 so that several of the learned professors of the 
 College de France — even some Immortels — find 
 their way to young Madame Ledoyen's salon, and 
 take pleasure in her conversation, her music, her 
 beauty. Great financiers are also her guests not 
 infrequently, on account of her husband's profes- 
 sion ; and her brother occasionally brings some of 
 his Bohemian friends, "not to let the place become 
 too solemn for him." 
 
 Pearce is still unmarried, and will very likely 
 remain forever in the state of single-blessedness, 
 as no woman seems to unite the perfections and 
 perquisites he feels entitled to demand to grace 
 his position in society, now that Mrs. Stodard has 
 convinced him that her decision is final. Some- 
 times he stays with Olive and dean, and thinks 
 that their life is not devoid of charm; at other 
 times he is struck by the fact that the existence of 
 Maxime Ledoyen and that of his wife seems to be 
 very happy and honored. It might have been his, 
 perhaps. It is wonderful, however, that they can
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. 273 
 
 maintain their position in the world with so little 
 money and without apparent pinching. How is it 
 achieved ? No doubt they are penny wise and un- 
 ambitious. Decidedly, Fate had contrived to bring 
 about what was best for every one. He was glad 
 to see them all happy; but then, they were French, 
 therefore easily contented with golden mediocrity. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 University Press : John Wilson & Son, Cambridge.
 
 Messrs. Roberts Brothers' Publications. 
 
 MRS. HERNDON'S INCOME. 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 By HELEN CAMPBELL. 
 
 AUTHOR OF " THE WHAT-TO-DO CLUB." 
 
 One volume. i6mo. Cloth. $1.50. 
 
 " Confirmed novel-readers who have regarded fiction as created for amusement 
 and luxury alone, lay down this book with a new and serious purpose in life. The 
 social scientist reads it, and finds the solution of many a tangled problem ; the 
 philanthropist finds in it direction and counsel. A novel written with a purpose, 
 of which never for an instant does the author lose sight, it is yet absorbing in its 
 interest. It reveals the narrow motives and the intrinsic selfishness of certain 
 grades of social life ; the corruption of business methods ; the ' false, fairy gold' 
 of fashionable charities, and 'advanced' thought. Margaret Wentworth is it 
 typical New England girl, reflective, absorbed, full of passionate and repressed 
 intensity under a quiet and apparently cold exterior. The events that group 
 themselves about her life are the natural result of such a character brought into 
 contact with real life. The book cannot be too widely read." — Boston Traveller. 
 
 " If the ' What-to-do Club ' was clever, this is decidedly more so. It is a pow- 
 erful story, and is evidently written in some degree, we cannot quite say how great 
 a degree, from fact. The personages of the story are very well drawn, — indeed, 
 'Amanda Briggs'isas good as anything American fiction has produced. We 
 fancy we could pencil on the margin the real names of at least half the characters. 
 It is a book for the wealthy to read that they may know something that is required 
 of them, because it does not ignore the difficulties in their way, and especially 
 does not overlook the differences which social standing puts between class and 
 class. It is a deeply interesting story considered as mere fiction, one of the best 
 which has lately appeared. We hope the authoress will go on in a path where 
 she has shown herself so capable." — The Churchman. 
 
 "In Mrs. Campbell's novel we have a work that is not to be judged by 
 ordinary standards. The story holds the reader's interest by its realistic pictures 
 of the local life around us, by its constant and progressive action, and by the 
 striking dramatic quality of scenes and incidents, described in a style clear, con- 
 nected, and harmonious. The novel-reader who is not taken up and made to 
 share the author's enthusiasm before getting half-way through the book must 
 possess a taste satiated and depraved by indulgence in exciting and sensational 
 fiction. The earnestness of the author's presentation of essentially great purposes 
 lends intensity to her narrative. Succeeding as she does in impressing us strongly 
 with her convictions, there is nothing of dogmatism in their preaching. But the 
 suggestiveness of everv chapter is backed by pictures of real life."— Ntiu York 
 World. , 
 
 Sold by all booksellers. Mailed, post-paid, on receipt of 
 price, by the publishers, 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston
 
 Messrs. Roberts Brothers' Publications. 
 NO NAME (THIRD) SERIES. 
 
 A SUPERIOR WOMAN 
 
 One volume. i6mo. Cloth. Price, $1.00. 
 
 " In these days of morbid fiction, when to describe what may be called path- 
 ological eccentricities in human nature seems to be the ambition of each new 
 novelUt, it is as unexpected as it is refreshing to come upon a story as fresh and 
 wholesome and true to life as is ' A Superior Woman.' There is a happy fidelity 
 to nature in the character-painting. Even the lighter sketches, such as Mrs. 
 Cleve, Charley and Walter Thorn, and the Hemingway sisterhood, show the 
 same sense of proportion and precision of stroke which makes Rose — dear 
 Rosamond Leigh, the heroine — as real to us and as vitally fresh and interesting 
 as any girl we know out of a book." 
 
 " ' A Superior Woman ' is a pleasant and delicate story of an earnest young 
 girl whose young life is led by her own pure and sweet sympathies, her loyal 
 friendships, and her most practical good sense. It is a book that interests deeply, 
 but never thrills its readers ; because it deals wholly with the interests of to-day, 
 and to-day has but few tragedies, and but few comedies that are in any sense too 
 strange to be believed. It is a book of helpfulness for such young women as 
 desire to make the most of the domestic materials at hand, and also for such young 
 men as are evolving prospective wives and toiling for prospective firesides of their 
 own. In fact, it is a treasure for all those who are in search of the 'superior 
 woman.' The novel is one of the ' No Name ' series, and these books are never 
 inferior in literary quality." 
 
 Sold by all booksellers. Mailed, post-paid, on receipt of 
 price, by the Publishers, 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, 
 Boston.
 
 MESSRS. ROBERTS BROTHERS' PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 NO NAME (THIRD) SERIES. 
 
 Almost a Duchess. 
 
 " It is an intricate but well-constructed romance of a popular English class, 
 in which there are many love-complications, a number of marriages and deaths, 
 with the usual incidents attending all such events. Some of these are marked 
 with dramatic force, and the story is so well told and so steadily carried for- 
 ward to a symmetrical conclusion that it is sure to delight a large class of 
 readers." — Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. 
 
 "The pretty title, 'Almost a Duchess,' strikes the key-note of the novel. 
 A beautiful English girl marries a youthful French Duke, to the chagrin of his 
 mother, who had planned, after the French cut-and-dried matrimonial fashion, 
 to marry him to a French damsel of high degree and large fortune. After his 
 English marriage, the son visits France alone, where he succumbs to his 
 mother's influence and the blandishments of the unscrupulous French girl, and 
 annuls his marriage, which he learns for the first time is illegal in France, if 
 not in England, under the technicalities of French law. This gives the 
 foundation to a rather tragic story, which will interest all of its readers, besides 
 giving them an insight to the social customs in French life of high rank, and 
 its rigid and restrictive marriage laws, that make slaves of the sons and 
 daughters of France, and gives opportunities to break various moral con- 
 siderations, and, perhaps, some youthful hearts. Like all its predecessors, 
 'Almost a Duchess' keeps up the well-deserved reputation of the No Name 
 Series." — .Vezv York Times. 
 
 "Some of the scenes are highly wrought and dramatic ; some truly pathetic. 
 The story moves on without weariness, and a fine woman's hand is under it 
 all." — The Graphic. 
 
 " ' Almost a Duchess ' is a delightful and entertaining story, — quite the best 
 we have had lately in the No Name Series." — The Critic. 
 
 One volume. IGuio. Cloth. Price !*1.00. 
 
 *„* Sold at all bookstores, or mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price by the 
 publishers, 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston.
 
 Messrs. Roberts Brothers Publications. 
 
 THE WHAT-TO-DO CLUB. 
 
 A STORY FOR GIRLS. 
 
 By Helen Campbell. 
 i6mo. Cloth. Price $1.50. 
 
 " ' The What-to-do Club ' is an unpretending story. It introduces us to a 
 dozen or more village girls of varying ranks. One has had superior opportuni- 
 ties ; another exceptional training ; two or three have been ' away to school ; ' 
 some are farmers' daughters ; there is a teacher, two or three poor self-support- 
 ers, — in fact, about such an assemblage as any town between New York and 
 Chicago might give us. But while there is a large enough company to furnish a 
 delightful coterie, there is absolutely no social life among them. . . . Town and 
 country need mors improving, enthusiastic work to redeem them from barrenness 
 and indolence. Our girls need a chance to do independent work, to study prac- 
 tical business, to fill their minds with other thoughts than the petty doings of 
 neighbors. A What-to-do Club is one step toward higher village life. It is one 
 step toward disinfecting a neighborhood of the poisonous gossip which floats like 
 a pestilence around localities which ought to furnish the most desirable homes in 
 our country." — The Clututauquan. 
 
 " 'The What-to-do Club ' is a delightful story for girls, especially for New 
 England girls, by Helen Campbell. The heroine of the story is Sybil Waite, the 
 beautiful, resolute, and devoted daughter of a broken-down but highly educated 
 Vermont lawyer. The story shows how much it is possible for a well-trained and 
 determined young woman to accomplish when she sets out to earn her own living, 
 or help others. Sybil begins with odd jobs of carpentering, and becomes an artist 
 in woodwork. She is first jeered at, then admired, respected, and finally loved 
 by a worthy man. The book closes pleasantly with John claiming Sybil as his 
 own. The labors of Sybil and her friends and of the New Jersey ' Busy Bodies,' 
 which are said to be actual facts, ought to encourage many young women to more 
 successful competition in the battles of life." — Golden Rule. 
 
 " In the form of a story, this book suggests ways in which young women 
 may make money at home, with practical directions for so doin;. Stories with a 
 moral are not usually interesting, but this one is an exception to the rule. The 
 narrative is lively, the incidents probable and amusing, the characters well-drawn, 
 aid the dialects various and characteristic. Mrs. Campbell is a natural story- 
 tel'er, and has the gift of making a tale interesting. Even the recipes for pickles 
 and preserves, evaporating fruits, raising poultry, and keeping bees, are made 
 poetic and invested with a certain ideal glamour, and we are thrilled and absorbed 
 by an array of figures of receipts and expenditures, equally with the changeful 
 incidents of flirtation, courtship, and matrimony. Fun and pathos, sense and 
 sentiment, are mingled throughout, and the combination has resulted in one of 
 the brightest stories of the season." — Woman's Journal- 
 
 Sold by all booksellers. A failed, post-paid, by publishers, 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston.
 
 MESSRS. ROBERTS BROTHERS' 
 
 CHOICE BOOKS FOR SUMMER READING, 
 
 BOUND IN PAPER COVERS. 
 
 MOONDYNE. A story from the Under World. By John Doyle 
 
 O'Reilly ' 50 
 
 THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY, AND OTHER 
 
 TALES. By Edward E. Hale 50 
 
 TREASURE ISLAND. By Robert Louis Stevenson . . .50 
 
 PINK AND WHITE TYRANNY. By Harriet Beecher 
 
 Stowe 5° 
 
 MY PRISONS. By Silvio Pellico 50 
 
 OUR AUTUMN HOLIDAY ON FRENCH RIVERS. 
 
 By J. L. Molloy 50 
 
 MIREIO. By Frederic Mistral 50 
 
 AN INLAND VOYAGE. By Robert Louis Stevenson . . .50 
 
 TRAVELS WITH A DONKEY IN THE CE- 
 
 VENNES. By Robert Louis Stevenson 50 
 
 SILVERADO SQUATTERS. By Robert Louis Stevenson .50 
 
 PRINCE OTTO. A Romance. By Robert Louis Stevenson . .50 
 
 FOR SUMMER AFTERNOONS. By Susan Coolidge . .50 
 
 ANDROMEDA. By George Fleming . . ■ 50 
 
 THE SAN ROSARIO RANCH. By Maud Howe . . . .50 
 
 ATALANTA IN THE SOUTH. By Maud Howe . . . .50 
 
 THE MAKING OF A MAN. By William M. Baker . . .50 
 
 MAUPRAT. By George Sand 50 
 
 MILLER OF ANGIBAULT. By Gecrge Sand 50 
 
 MONSIEUR SYLVESTRE . " " " 50 
 
 THE SNOW MAN " " " 50 
 
 ANTONIA " " " 50 
 
 REALITIES OF IRISH LIFE. By W. Steuart Trench . .50 
 
 UNAWARES. By Frances M. Peard 50 
 
 THE ROSE GARDEN. By Frances M. Peard 50 
 
 THORPE REGIS ..." " " " 50 
 
 MISS MELINDA'S OPPORTUNITY. By Helen Camp- 
 bell 50 
 
 GOLDEN MEDIOCRITY. By Mrs. Philip Gilbert Ilamer- 
 ton s° 
 
 VESTIGIA. By the author of " Kismet " 5° 
 
 DR. JACOB. By M. Betham Edwards 5° 
 
 IN HIS NAME. By E. E. Hale 3° 
 
 THE FALL OF THE GREAT REPUBLIC ... .30
 
 UNIFORM LIBRARY EDITIONS 
 
 OF 
 
 MRS. EWING'S STORIES. 
 
 IN NINE VOLUMES. 
 
 JAN OF THE WINDMILL. 
 
 A Story of the Plains. With illustrations by Mrs. Allingham. 
 i6mo. Cloth. $1.00. 
 
 SIX TO SIXTEEN. 
 
 A Story for Girls. With 10 illustrations by Helen Patterson. 
 i6mo. Cloth. #1.00. 
 
 A GREAT EMERGENCY, and Other Tales. 
 
 With illustration. i6mo. Cloth. $1.00. 
 
 WE AND THE WORLD. 
 
 A Story for Boys. With 10 illustrations. i6mo. Cloth. $1.00. 
 
 MRS. OVERTHEWAYS REMEMBRANCES. 
 
 Ten illustrations. i6mo. Cloth. $1.00. A Series of Short 
 Stories which are supposed to be told by a nice old lady to a little 
 girl invalid. 
 
 JACKANAPES, and Other Tales. 
 
 Comprising " Jackanapes," " Daddy Darwin's Dovecot," and 
 "The Story of a Short Life." With a sketch of Mrs. Ewing's 
 Life, by her sister, Horatia K. F. Gatty. With portrait and illus- 
 trations. i6mo. Cloth. $1.00. 
 
 MELCHIOR'S DREAM, BROTHERS OF PITY, and 
 
 Other Tales. 
 
 With illustrations. i6mo. Cloth. $1.00. 
 
 LOB LIE-BY-THE-FIRE, THE BROWNIES, and 
 
 Other Tales. 
 
 With illustrations by George Cruikshank. i6mo. Cloth. 
 $1.00. 
 
 A FLATIRON FOR A FARTHING. 
 
 With illustrations. i6mo. Cloth. Price, $1.00.
 
 Messrs, Roberts Brothers' Publications. 
 
 RAMONA: A Story. 
 
 By HELEN JACKSON (H. H.). 
 
 i2mo. Cloth. Price $1.50. 
 
 The Atlantic Monthly says of the author that she is "a Murillo 
 in literature," and that the story " is one of the most artistic 
 creations of American literature." Says a lady: '"Tome it is the 
 most distinctive piece of work we have had in this country since 
 1 Uncle Tom's Cabin,' and its exquisite fiuish of style is beyond that 
 classic." '"The book is truly an American novel," says the Boston 
 Advertiser. " Ramona is one of the most charming creations of 
 medern fiction," says Charles D Warner " The romance of the 
 story is irresistibly fascinating," says The Independent. 
 
 " The best novel written by a woman since George Eltot died, as 
 it seems to me, is Mrs. Jackson's ' Ramona ' What action is thsre t 
 What motion! How entrainant it is! It cairies us along as ii 
 mounted on a swift horse's back, from beginning to end, and it is 
 only <vhen we return for a second reading that we can appreciate 
 the fine handling of the characters, and especially the Spanish 
 mother, drawn with a stroke as keen and firm as that which 
 portrayed George Eliot's ' Dorothea.' " —T. W. Higgmson. 
 
 Unsolicited tribute of a stranger, a lady in Wisconsin : — 
 
 " I beg leave to thank you with an intense heartiness for your 
 public espousal cf the cause of the Indian. In your 'Century of 
 Dishonor ' you showed to the country its own disgrace. In 
 'Ramona 'you have dealt most tenderly with the Indians as men 
 and women. You have shown that their stoicism is not indiffer- 
 ence, that their squalor is not always of their own choosing. You 
 have shown the tender grandeur of their love, the endurance of 
 their constancy. While, by ' Ramona,' you hive made your name 
 immortal, you have done something which is far greater. You are 
 but one: they are mat-y. You have helped those who cannot lie p 
 themselves. As a novel, 'Ramona' must stand beside 'Romola,' 
 both as regards literary excellence and the portrayal of life's or 
 most vital, most solemn interests. I think nothing in literature 
 since Goldsmith's ' Vicar of Wakefield ' equals your description of 
 the flight of Ramona and Alessandro. Such delicate pathos and 
 tender joy, such Dure conception of lite's realities, and such loftiness 
 of self-abnegating love ! How much richer and happier the world 
 
 is with ' Ramona ' in it ! " 
 
 » 
 
 Sold by all booksellers. Af ailed, postpaid, by the publishers, 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston.
 
 Messrs. Roberts Brothers' Ptiblications. 
 
 Z E P H. 
 
 A POSTHUMOUS STORY, 
 
 By HELEN JACKSON (H. H.). 
 
 One volume. i6mo. Cloth. Price, $1.25. 
 
 " The story is complete in spite of the fact that a few chapters remained still 
 to be written when the writer succumbed to disease. Begun and mainly com- 
 pleted at Los Angeles last year, the manuscript had been put by to be completed 
 when returning health should have made continuous labor possible. But health 
 never returned; the disease steadily deepened its hold, and a few days before her 
 death, foreseeing that the end was near, Mrs Jackson sent the manuscript to 
 her publisher, with a brief note, enclosing a <hort outline of the chapters which 
 remained unwritten. . . . The real lesson of the book lies in Zeph's unconquer- 
 able affection fcr his worthless wife, and in the beautiful illustration of the divine 
 trait of forgiveness which he constantly manifested toward her. As a portraiture 
 of a character moulded and guided by this sentiment, ' Zeph ' will take its place 
 with the best of Mrs. Jackson's work ; a beautiful plea for love and charity and 
 long-suffering, patience and forgiveness, coining from one whose hand now rests 
 from this and all kindred labors." — New York Christian Union. 
 
 "Although the beautiful and pathetic story of Zeph ' was never quite com- 
 pleted, the dying author indicated what remained to be told in the few unwritten 
 chapters, and it comes to us, therefore, not as a curious fragment, but as an all 
 but finished work. There is something most tender and sad in the supreme artis- 
 tic conscientiousness of one who could give such an illustration of fidelity and so 
 emphasize the nobility of labor from her death-bed. These things that bring 
 back the gracious spirit from whose loss the heart of the reading world is still 
 smarting, would lend pathos and interest to ' Zeph ' even if they did not exist in 
 the story itself. The creation of 'Zeph' is a fitting close to a life of splendid 
 literary activity, and it will be enjoyed by those who believe in the novel as, first 
 of all, a work of art. which can be made in proper hands a tremendous force 
 for truth and justice, and real instead of formal righteousness." — New York 
 Commercial A dvertiser. 
 
 " As people grow oldsr they see more and more clearly that love — the love 
 between man and woman — is the great power that shapes character, and makes 
 life a blessing, a burdsn, or a curse. More and more deeply did Mrs. Jackson 
 feel the omnipotence of perfect, patient love, the only power that is sure of final 
 victory, and to show this did she tell the story of Zeph. Before the story was 
 finished, Mrs. Jackson became too ill to work any more ; but the life of Zeph was 
 very near her heart; she wanted to make it known, to impress the lesson, th.it 
 through knowledge of a great forgi/ing human love even the saddest and most 
 sinfil creature may come to a faith in a great forgiving divine love, in a God as 
 good as she has known a man to be, and so in her last hours Mrs. Jackson made 
 a. brief outline of the plot for the end of the story. As her latest work, this lias 
 a special and pathetic interest." — Bos/on pai/y Advertiser. 
 
 Sold by all Booksellers. Mailed, post-paid, by the Pub- 
 lishers, 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston.
 
 BY THE AUTHOR 0J< " RAMONA." 
 
 A CENTURY OF DISHONOR: 
 
 A Sketch of the United States Government's Deal- 
 ings with some of the Indian Tribes. By Helen 
 Jackson (H. H.), Author of " Ramona," "Verses," "Bits 
 of Travel," &c. With a Preface by Bishop Whipple, an 
 Introduction by President Seelye, and Report on the 
 Condition and Needs of the Mission Indians of Califor- 
 nia, made by Special Agents Helen Jackson and Abbot 
 Kinney, to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs. A new 
 enlarged edition. 121110. Cloth. $1.50. 
 
 Extract from a letter -written by the author to Jur publisher, dated 
 San Francisco, Aug. I, 1SS5: 
 
 "I thank you from my heart for having taken 'The Century of Dis- 
 honor.' I shall die happier. I believe you will be rewarded by a good 
 sale, as well as by my gratitude. There are enough persons interested 
 in the Indian side of 'Ramona' to be attracted by the advertisement of 
 the book as containing a full account of the Mission Indians and the 
 bands to which Alessandro belonged, and many of the incidents in 
 ' Ramona; ' also, those who have thought ' Ramona ' overdrawn will see 
 that it is exact history." 
 
 " A number of striking cases of breach of faith, heartless banishment from homes 
 confirmed to the Indians by solemn treaties, and wars wantonly provoked in order to 
 make an excuse for dispossessing them of their lands, are grouped together, making a 
 panorama of outrage and oppression which will arouse the humanitarian instincts of the 
 nation to the point of demanding that justice shall be done toward our savage wards. . . . 
 ' H. H.' succeeds in holding up to the public eye a series of startling pictures of Indian 
 wrongs, drawn from a century of American history." — N. Y. Tribune. 
 
 "A concise and forcible sketch of the treatment which some of the Indian tiibes 
 within our borders have received at our hands" — N. V. Sun. 
 
 " The author of this book has brought to her needful task a ripe scholarship and a 
 facile pen. More than this, she has evidently undertaken her work with an enthusiasm 
 and a sympathy with the wronged which none but a tender-hearted and just woman can 
 possess. ... It is not possible that a perusal of this remarkable story of a nation's dis- 
 honor can fail to arouse the people of the United States to a sense of their own responsi- 
 bility for the wicked dealings of their government with the aborigines of our country-" — 
 N. V. Times. 
 
 " Never was a book more needed or more timely. . . . Whatever can be done for the 
 Indians by an earnest purpose, careful study, logical statements, and righteous indigna- 
 tion, ' H. H.' has done in this book." — Atlantic Monthly. 
 
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 LOUISA M. ALCOTT'S WRITINGS. 
 
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 " Miss Alcott has a faculty of entering into the lives and feelings of 
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 and to this cause, to the consciousness among her readers that they are hear* 
 tag about people like themselves, instead of abstract qualities labelled -with 
 names, the popularity of her books is due." — Mrs. Sarah J. Hale. 
 
 / " Dear Aunt Jo ! You are embalmed in the thoughts and loves of 
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 HER CRIME. LITTLE SISTER. 
 
 BARRINCTON'S FATE. 
 
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 PRINCESS AMEL1E. DIANE CORYVAL. 
 
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 TREASURE ISLAND: 
 
 <E Storg of tfjc Spanfeij flam* 
 
 By ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. 
 
 With Illustrations by F. T. Merrill. 
 i6mo. Cloth, Ji.oo ; paper covers, 50 cents. 
 
 "Buried treasure is one of the very foundations of romance. . . . This 13 
 the theory on which Mr. Stevenson has written 'Treasure Island.' Primarily 
 it is a book for boys, with a boy-hero and a string of wonderful adventures. 
 But it is a book for boys which will be delightful to all grown men who have the 
 sentiment of treasure-hunting and are touched with the true spirit of the Spanish 
 Main. Like all Mr. Stevenson's good work, it is touched with genius. It is 
 written — in that crisp, choice, nervous English of which he has the secret — with 
 such a union of measure and force as to be in its way a masterpiece of narrative. 
 It is rich in excellent characterization, in an abundant invention, in a certain grim 
 romance, in a vein of what must, for want of a better word, be described as melo- 
 drama, which is both thrilling and peculiar. It is the work of one who knows all 
 there is to be known about ' Robinson Crusoe,' and to whom Dumas is some- 
 thing more than a great amuseur ; and it is in some ways the best thing he has 
 produced." — London Saturday Review. 
 
 " His story is skilfully constructed, and related with untiring vivacity and genuine 
 dramatic power. It is calculated to fascinate the old boy as well as the young, 
 the reader of Smollett and Dr. Moore and Marryatt as well as the admirer of the 
 dexterous ingenuity of Poe. It deals with a mysterious island, a buried treasure, 
 the bold buccaneer, and all the stirring incidents of a merry life on the Main. . . . 
 We can only add that we shall be surprised if 'Treasure Island ' does not satisfy 
 the most exacting lover of perilous adventures and thrilling situations."— London 
 A cademy. 
 
 " Any one who has read ' The New Arabian Nights ' will recognize at once 
 Mr. Stevenson's qualifications for telling a good buccaneer story. Mr. Steven- 
 son's genius is not wholly unlike that of Poe, but it is Poe strongly impregnated 
 with Marryatt. Yet we doubt if either of those writers ever succeeded in making 
 a reader identify himself with the supposed narrator of a story, as he cannot fail 
 to do in the present case. As we follow the narrative of the boy Jim Hawkins 
 we hold our breath in his dangers, and breathe again at his escapes."— London 
 
 Athetueum. 
 
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 Sold by all Booksellers. Mailed, postpaid, by the pub- 
 
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 Messrs. Roberts Brothers Publications. 
 
 TRAVELS WITH A DONKEY 
 
 IN THE CEVENNES. 
 
 By ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. 
 
 With Frontispiece Illustration by Walter Crane. i6mo. 
 Paper covers, 50 cents ; cloth, $1.00. 
 
 "This is one of the brightest books of travel that has recently come to our 
 notice. The author, Robert Louis Stevenson, sees every tiling with the eye of a 
 philosopher, and is disposed to see the bright rather than the dark side of what 
 passes under his observation. He has a steady flow of humor that is as ap| ar- 
 rently spontaneous as a mountain brook, and he views a landscape or a human 
 figure, not only as a tourist seeking subjects for a book, but as an artist to whom 
 the slightest line or tint conveys a definite impression." — Boston Courier. 
 
 " A very agreeable companion for a summer excursion is brought to our side 
 without ceremony in this lively reprint of a journal of travel in the interior of 
 France. For all locomotive or four-horse stage coach, the writer had chartered a 
 little she-ass, not much bigger than a dog, whom he christened ' Modestine,' and 
 whose fascinating qualities soon proved that she was every way worthy of the 
 name. Mounted on this virtuous beast, with an inordinate supply of luggage 
 slung over her patient back in a sheepskin bag, the larder well provided with 
 cakes of chocolate and tins of Bologna sausage, cold mutton and the potent wine 
 of Beaujolais, the light-hearted traveller took his way to the mountains of South- 
 ern France. He has no more story to tell than had the ' weary knife-grinder,' 
 but he jots down the little odds and ends of his journey in an off-hand, garrulous 
 tone which sounds as pleasantly as the careless talk of a cheerful companion in a 
 country ramble. The reader must not look for nuggets of gold in these slight 
 pages, but the sparkling sands which they shape into bright forms are botli .it 
 tractive and amusing." — N. 3'. 'Tribune. 
 
 "'Travels with a Donkey' is charming, full of grace, and humor, and fresh- 
 ness : such refined humor ii all is, too, and so evidently the work of a gentleman. 
 I am half in love with him, and much inclined to think that a ramble anywhere 
 with such a companion must be worth taking. What a happy knack he has of 
 giving the taste of a landscape or any out-door impression in ten words! " 
 
 Sold by all Booksellers. Mailed, postpaid, by the Pub- 
 lishers, 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston.
 
 This book is DUE on the last 
 date stamped below. 
 
 ^jKj REMINGTON RAND INC. 20 
 
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