Home > Authors Index > E. Phillips Oppenheim > Jeanne Of The Marshes > This page
Jeanne Of The Marshes, a novel by E. Phillips Oppenheim |
||
Book 2 - Chapter 8 |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ BOOK II CHAPTER VIII The Princess and Jeanne drove homewards in a silence which remained unbroken until the last few minutes. The events of the evening had been somewhat perplexing to the former. She scarcely understood even now why a great personage like the Duke of Westerham had shown such interest in her charge. "Tell me, Jeanne," she asked at last, "why is the Duke of Westerham so friendly with your fisherman?" Jeanne raised her eyebrows slightly. "'My fisherman,' as you call him," she answered, "is, after all, Andrew de la Borne! They were at school together." "That is all very well," the Princess answered, "but I cannot see what possible sympathy there can be between them now. Their stations in life are altogether different. You talked with the Duke for some time, Jeanne?" "He was very kind to me," Jeanne answered. "Did he give you any idea," the Princess asked, "as to why he was staying down at Salthouse with Mr. Andrew?" "None at all," Jeanne answered. "You know very well," the Princess continued, "of what I am thinking. Did he speak to you at all of Major Forrest?" "Not a word," Jeanne answered. "Of his brother, then?" "He did not mention his name," Jeanne declared. "He asked you no questions at all about anything which may have happened at the Red Hall?" Jeanne shook her head. "Certainly not!" "You do not think, then," the Princess persisted, "that it was for the sake of gaining information about his brother that he talked with you so much?" "Why should I think so?" Jeanne asked. "He scarcely mentioned any of your names even. He talked to me simply out of kindness, and I think because he knew that Mr. Andrew and I were friends." The Princess smiled. "You seem," she remarked, "to have made quite a conquest. I congratulate you. The Duke has not the reputation of being an easy man to get on with." The carriage pulled up before their house in Berkeley Square, and the Princess did not pursue the subject, but as Jeanne left her for the night, her stepmother called her back. "To-morrow morning," she said, "I should be glad if you would come to my room at twelve o'clock, I have something to say to you." Jeanne slept well that night. For the first time she felt that she had lost the feeling of friendlessness which for the last few weeks had constantly oppressed her. Andrew de la Borne was back in London, and the Duke, who seemed to have some sort of understanding as to the troubles which were likely to beset her, had gone out of his way to offer her his help. She felt now that she would not have to fight her stepmother's influence unaided. Yet when she sought her room at twelve o'clock the next morning she had very little idea of the sort of fight which she might indeed have to make. The Princess had already spent an hour at her toilette. Her hair was carefully arranged and her face massaged. She received her stepdaughter with some show of affection, and bade her sit close to her. "Jeanne," she said, "you are now nearly twenty years old. For many reasons I wish to see you married. The Count de Brensault formally proposed for you last night. He is coming at three o'clock this afternoon for his answer." Jeanne sat upright in her chair. Her stepmother noticed a new air of determination in the poise of her head, and the firm lines of her mouth. "The Count might have spared himself the trouble," she said. "He knows very well what my answer will be. I think that you know, too. It is no, most emphatically and decidedly! I will not marry the Count de Brensault." "Before you express yourself so irrevocably," the Princess said calmly, "I should like you to understand that it is my wish that you accept his offer." "In all ordinary matters," Jeanne answered, "I am prepared to obey you. In this, no! I think that I have the right to choose my husband for myself, or at any rate to approve of whomever you may select. I- -do not approve of the Count de Brensault. I do not care for him, and I never could care for him, and I will not marry him!" The Princess said nothing for several moments. Then she moved toward the door which led into her sleeping chamber, where her maid was still busy, and turned the key in the lock. "Jeanne," she said when she returned, "I think it is time that you were told something which I am afraid will be a shock to you. This great fortune of yours, of which you have heard so much, and which has been so much talked about, is a myth." "What do you mean?" Jeanne asked, looking at her stepmother with startled eyes. "Exactly what I say," the Princess continued. "Your father made huge gifts to his relatives during the last few years of his life, and he left enormous sums in charity. To you he left the remainder of his estate, which all the world believed to amount to at least a million pounds. But when things came to be realized, all his securities seemed to have depreciated. The legacies were paid in cash. The depreciation of his fortune all fell upon you. When everything had been paid, there was something like twenty-five thousand pounds left. More than half of that has gone in your education, and in an allowance to myself since I have had the charge of you. There is a little left in the hands of Monsieur Laplanche, but very little indeed. What there is we owe for your dresses, the rent of this house, and other things." "You mean," Jeanne interrupted bewildered, "that I have no money at all?" "Practically none," the Princess answered. "Now you can see why it is so important that you should marry a rich man." Jeanne was bewildered. It was hard to grasp these things which her stepmother was telling her. "If this be true," she said, "how is it that every one speaks of me as being a great heiress?" The Princess glanced at her with a contemptuous smile. "You do not suppose," she said, "that I have found it necessary to take the whole world into my confidence." "You mean," Jeanne said, "that people don't know that I am not a great heiress?" "Certainly not," the Princess replied, "or we should scarcely be here." "The Count de Brensault?" Jeanne asked. "He does not know, of course," the Princess answered. "He is a rich man. He can afford quite well to marry a girl without a DOT." Jeanne's head fell slowly between her hands. The suddenness of this blow had staggered her. It was not the loss of her fortune so much which affected her as the other contingencies with which she was surrounded. She tried to think, and the more she thought the more involved it all seemed. She looked up at last. "If my fortune is really gone," she said, "why do you let people talk about it, and write about me in the papers as though I were still so rich?" The Princess shrugged her shoulders. "For your own sake," she answered. "It is necessary to find you a husband, is it not, and nowadays one does not find them easily when there is no DOT." Jeanne felt her cheeks burning. "I am to be married, then," she said slowly, "by some one who thinks I have a great deal of money, and who afterwards will be able to turn round and reproach me for having deceived him." The Princess laughed. "Afterwards," she said, "the man will not be too anxious to let the world know that he has been made a fool of. If you play your cards properly, the afterwards will come out all right." Jeanne rose slowly to her feet. "I do not think," she said, "that you have quite understood me. I should like you to know that nothing would ever induce me to marry any one unless they knew the truth. I will not go on accepting invitations and visiting people's houses, many of whom have only asked me because they think that I am very rich. Every one must know the truth at once." "And how, may I ask, do you propose to live?" the Princess asked quietly. "If there is nothing left at all of my money," Jeanne said, "I will work. If it is the worst which comes, I will go back to the convent and teach the children." The Princess laughed softly. "Jeanne," she said, "you are talking like a positive idiot. It is because you have had no time to think this thing out. Remember that after all you are not sailing under any false colours. You are your father's daughter, and you are also his heiress. If the newspapers and gossip have exaggerated the amount of his fortune, that is not your affair. Be reasonable, little girl," she added, letting her hand fall upon Jeanne's. "Don't give us all away like this. Remember that I have made sacrifices for your sake. I owe more money than I can pay for your dresses, for the carriage, for the house here. Nothing but your marriage will put us straight again. You must make up your mind to this. The Count de Brensault is so much in love with you that he will ask no questions. You must marry him." Jeanne drew herself away from her stepmother's touch. "Nothing," she said, "would induce me to marry the Count de Brensault, not even if he knew that I am penniless. If we cannot afford to live in this house, or to keep carriages, let us go away at once and take rooms somewhere. I do not wish to live under false pretences." The Princess was very pale, but her eyes were hard and steely. "Child," she said, "don't be a fool. Don't make me angry, or I may say and do things for which I should be sorry. It is no fault of mine that you are not a great heiress. I have done the next best thing for you. I have made people believe that you are. Be reasonable, and all will be well yet. If you are going to play the Quixote, it will be ruin for all of us. I cannot think how a child like you got such ideas. Remember that I am many years older and wiser than you. You should leave it to me to do what is best." Jeanne shook her head. "I cannot," she said simply. "I am sorry to disappoint you, but I shall tell every one I meet that I have no money, and I will not marry the Count de Brensault." The Princess grasped her by the wrist. "You will not obey me, child?" she said. "I will obey you in everything reasonable," Jeanne said. "Very well, then," the Princess answered, "go to your room at once." Jeanne turned and walked toward the door. On the threshold, however, she paused. There were many times, she remembered, when her stepmother had been kind to her. She looked around at the Princess, sitting with her head resting upon her clasped hands. "I am very sorry," Jeanne said timidly, "that I cannot do what you wish. It is not honest. Cannot you see that it is not honest?" The Princess turned slowly round. "Honest!" she repeated scornfully. "Who is there in our world who can afford to be honest? You are behaving like a baby, Jeanne. I only hope that before long you may come to your senses. Will you obey me if I tell you not to leave your room until I send for you?" Jeanne hesitated. "Yes!" she said. "I will obey you in that." "Then go there and wait," the Princess said. "I must think what to do." _ |
||