LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VII, Issue 750, 14 November 1876, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE STRANGE STORY OF A DIAMOND Seven years ago, on a certain night in January, if any one had penetrated into the salon of an apartment au premier in the Rue du Cirque, he, she, or they might have found, lazily lying back and enjoying a cigar, one of those men who have an especial claim to be considered favorites of fortune. Sosthene de Valreas, from the moment he made his debut in French society, had been a social success; and this was due more to the charming personal qualities of the man than to any other cause. His family was old and noble, but there were many older, and many more noble. His fortune, without being immense, was quite sufficient to meet all his wants as a * gandin’ (we are now speaking of seven years ago, when the term ‘ gandm was in vogue, and before the days of ‘ gommeux’ and ‘poisseux’), and his needs an a * Memhre du Jockey;’ but it was not so uncomfortably large as to engender cares, or to render him apprehensive of being married for his money. He was not remarkably handsome or well made, having the typical face and figure of a French homme de race, and looking like hundreds of other members of the club in the Rue Scribe. Those who did not know him well, therefore, would never have anticipated that within a year of his debut in the salons of Madame la Duchesse d’Avray, in the Rue Frangois 1., he would become the leader of ‘High life,’ and the most sought after man in the best socieety of the French capital. Cette chere Duchesse had brought out many young men in her day; and when she first brought out Sosthene, her day was becoming twilight; but never before, as she herself averred, had her tuition and chaperonnage met with so brilliantly successful a result. The Prince de K began well, indeed, and for two years one might almost have expected anything of him; but then at length, alas ! notwithstanding all the warnings of Madame la Duchesse, he allowed himself to be mixed up too much with He turf,’ became hampered with sporting debts, took to wearing queer-looking clothes, which evidently did not come from Savile Row (coming in reality from the shop of a miserable little Englishman who had been a haberdasher in Exeter, but who was much patronised as a tailor in Paris by a certain set, because of a peculiar vulgarity in the cut of his clothes, which some one at one time had pronounced to be ‘ tres Nemmarkette’), and at length was forced to put himself into the hands of tbe Princesse de B to marry him to money. This was a sad collapse, and the future of the Prince was hardly what we, with our insular prejudices, would consider reassuring; for, as the Duchesse d’Avray, with more truth than delicacy, remarked to him the evening before the signing of the marriage contract, he could not expect people to respect the honour of his wife, as he himself had been more than careless in that particular with the wives of others. There was no help for it, however, for the hand of the redoubtable and inexorable money-lender of the Place de la Concorde was upon him, and money must be forthcoming, or the frontier gained in time. The next great flash-in-the pan of the Duchesse’s society gun was the young Marquis de Q . He was immensely rich, and so could indulge in ‘ le turf’ to almost any extent he pleased without there being any reason to fear social ruin for him in that quarter ; but nevertheless his success in society was of short duration. He was too compromising. In vain did the Duchesse tell him that he must always find out beforehand if a woman is open to intrigues before beginning to lay siege to her heart cn regie. Before he had been a year dans le monde , and just as the Empress was beginning to treat him with marked condescension at her petits bals, he made a fool of himself with a woman who prided herself upon her moat rococo chastity, and was forced to fight a duel with her husband, thus compromising a woman who detested him. He was sent, by the influenceof the Duchesse, after this sad contretemps, to Constantinople in a quasi-diplomatic position, and it was h'»ped he would return a wiser man. The late Baron James de Rothschild told Lord Bailing not to mind about the first mistake he made, but that it was / number two ’ that counted, and so it was with the unlucky Marquis. On his way home, and during his stay in Vienna, he saw, tried to conquer (without writing to the Duchesse to make inquiries, as he had promised to do), failed, was forced to fight another duel, and this time was crippled for life. After this there could be no more hope. It was bad enough, as Madame de C pathetically remarked, to be compromised by one’s lover ; but if one’s husband were to be forced to fight because a cretin tries to make love too openly, unless the thing were put a stop to there would soon be no husbands left to tromper. The Marquis therefore was banished, that is to say, was induced to accept a {diplomatic post in Washington, in hopes that the charms of Yankee women and Yankee dollars —for a man is never so rich as not to want more—would for ever put him en retraite. Now Sosthene de Valreas had never caused the Duchesse a moment’s uneasiness. His style was perfect, with just enough of the ( turjiste ’ about him to be palatable ; and, above all, not particularly anything to so extreme a degree as to makej him remarkable, except, perhaps, as a dancer. The Duchesse well knew the deceptive fragility of the social success begotten, not only of eccentricity, but of perfection in many things. The men who hold empire over society the longest are the men who do many things quite well, but who do not excel in more than one ; for not only does overwhelming excellence excite jealousy and create enemies, but it bores and fatigues. This was thoroughly well understood by the Duchesse, and she took care to give the benefit of her philosophy to Sosthene, who, moreover, took advantage of it. His dancing was certainly perfection. In the course of his second year in society he led a cotillion at a petit bal at the Tuileries, by the particular request of the habitual leader ; and three nights before the Grand Prix of that year said the most cutting, the most impertinent, the most witty, and the most graceful thing of the season to one of the titled pupils of Theresa. Many men can dance well, but here was a mere boy (Sosthene at that t’"me was only twenty-two) gracefully running away, after the fashion of Joseph, from the bewitching blandishments of one of the most fashionable women of her day, leaving a cutting epigram in lieu of cloak behind him. From that hour his social success was au accomplished fact. It was a great thing to be noticed by the ‘ pmieuse' in question, a greater thing

to have been noticed affectionately, still a greater thing to have declined these overtures, and the greatest thing of all, to have declined them with a wit that would have delighted the loungers in the CEil de Bceuf. A duel he had fought the previous year proved that his heart was sensitive, hut his cutting witticism showed he had determined it should not become a fashionable hotel; and these two facts combined, caused the women of Paris to make him the god of their idolatry. Now that we introduce him to the reader, he has been only four years in society, and he is the most fashionable man in Paris. A word from him opens the door of ‘the Jockey’ a whisper from his lips would close upon anyone ail the salons of the Frauburg; and above all, a peculiar coat, horse, carriage, dog, or expression he may affect, will make all Paris follow suit. His latest whim is a passion for diamond rings, and Samper and Mellerio have, in consequence, been doubling their yearly profits. It was always one of the many peculiar affectations of Sosthene de Yalreas never to change his whims until everyone had had ample time to copy them ; never suddenly to abandon a freak, leaving one-half Paris regretful, and the other disappointed. When asked once by an Austrian diplomatist why he allowed his tastes to become known for so long as to enable everyone to copy them, he superciliously replied; ‘ My whims, Prince, are the results of long meditation, and I have so little time to think, and indeed my intellect is so limited, that I cannot afford to change my necktie. Moreover, I am anxious that my ideas should have a lasting influence—should permeate all classes, so that years hence, when I am married' en bon bourgeois , a man may look at an old glove, and think, “I bought that when I was at school at Stanislas. Ah 1 it was the year de Yalreas made all Paris wear sang de bceuf. 1 ” As a matter of fact, it is more than probable that sheer good nature was the real cause of this constancy. If he had changed his whims as he changed his shirt, he knew all Paris would' follow him even if the following had entailed ruin ; he knew this and desisted. Let us return to him as we found him at the opening of this story. It is eleven o’clock in the evening, and he has refused all invitations but one, has dined quietly at his club, and been at home since nine. The cause of this unwonted solitude and seclusion is simple enough j he made an arrangement a fortnight back with the managers of Mellerio’s to be quite alone on this especial evening, that the jeweller might submit to him the finest diamond rings he could procure. The tradesman had just left him, and the young Marquis is smoking a meditative cigar previous to going to a ball. It is a terrible nuisance, this ball! He would much rather return to the ‘ Jockey,’ have a little ecarte, and get to bed early; but well does he know that the giver of the entertainment —a vulgar and enormously rich Mexican woman —has set her heart upon his presence there, has invited her friends especially to show him to them, and he is too good-natured to refuse so trifling a favor even at the expense of his own personal convenience. Half thinking of the nuisance of the ball, and half of the beauty of the diamonds he has just seen, he lies smoking his cigar. As well as we can see him in the shaded light of the room, he appears to be moderately tall, rather inclined to be stout, with brown curly hair, blue eyes, regular features, and wearing his beard in the shape of a fan—an atrocious custom much affected at that time by Frenchmen. His thoughts run somewhat in this way : ‘ What a bore this American woman is ! I shall be shown off like a prize pig, and meet all kinds of queer declasses. Why did I

allow myself to be touched by Carolus d’Tquem, who swore the woman would never speak to him again unless he introduced me to her, and unless I promised to come to her infernal ball ? If they expect me to dance the cotillion, or even to wait for it, they are deucedly mistaken. There is no other man in Paris who would be so good-natured as to go, but then I always knew I was the besthearted, as surely as I am the best-dressed, man in Paris. What a beautiful Golconda stone ! By the way, he ought to let me have it cheaper, for, although, of course, I shan’t pay him for years, he knows 1 am worth millions to him in other ways. But when was a tradesman found with common sense 1 They don’t send in their bills when you have money, but so surely as you are hard up, in come the accounts. They are very like women—charming when you are out of sorts, gloomy and cold when you are gay. I can’t complain of them, however. God knows, I wish they would be a little more gloomy and cold ! Cold ! Think how cold it must be out tonight. I shall catch a fluxion de poitrine going to that wretched negress’s ! They say she’s good fun—so intensely vulgar ; but I don’t see any fun in that sort of thing myself. I’d sooner go to the bal des gens de maisons at Valentino, if I wanted that kind of thing. There will be nobody there I have ever seen before, or shall ever see again ——’ His reflections were interrupted by the clock striking the half hour. He rose angrily and struck a timbre, which was immediately answered by the most faithful and discreet of valets. * Is the carriage below ?’ asked Sothene, putting on his hat. ‘La voiture de M. le Marquis Vattend,' murmured Hippolyte, as he helped his master into a great coat which gave him the appearance of a bear when once rapped in its ponderous Russian sable folds. ‘ Should any one call for me, say I have been called away en a mission of charity—to see somebody who is in great distress.’ He said this gravely, nor did Hippolyte suspect the sarcasm underlying his words, for he knew the apartment of his master was the refuge for fashionable decaves who found it impossible at times to pay by two o’clock next day large sums lost the previous evening at the Circle, and who were thus forced to rely (and, so far as concerns De Valreas, never in vain) upon the generosity of their friends. With a great sigh of regret at being forced to leave his warm apartment on so disagreeable an errand, he hurried down stairs, into" his well-armed brougham, and off to the ball. The Mexican woman, to whose house he was going, was a Madame de Manzanilla, a woman of about forty ; considered by many men to be very handsome, being what Frenchmen call * une belle femme,' that is fat and profuse; and her fortune was stated to be enormous. Her husband was ever absent from Paris, attending, as was supposed, to affairs in Vera Cruz, but in reality living in what clergymen call ‘a state of sin * in New York, and leaving hie wife to spend h«r

money (for it was hers, and not his) in the French capital and make unsuccessful at* temps to get into society there. People, however, would have nothing to do with her; that is to say, people whose * doing ’ with any one of real importance. Of course, the American colony opened its arms to her, and the be-diamonded darlings of the Rocky Mountains were ever to be found in great force in her salons, drawling out, in a pretty, plaintive, little nasal way, queer French to such men as Madame de Manzanilla could entrap. These men came from anywhere, and everywhere. Queer men from the Tuileries, still queerer from New York, and an occasional Englishman, who if he happened to have no social status in his own country, could assume one here with impunity (for Americans think there are only two classes of Englishmen—noblemen and Cockneys), or, if he happened to be even remotely connected with a man bearing a title, might taste for once the intoxicating delight of being a triton among the minnows. Generally speaking, however, at every ball given by the lady in question one could always count upon finding one individual of real bona fide socal position. One man always asked, and one always came, whose name and position were beyond criticism or cavil; and although, if married, he always came without his wife, his presence leavened the whole lump, and gave a cachet of good society to the entertainment which the presence of the sons and daughters of Yankee tradesmen and Havanese merchants was powerless to bestow. Sometimes it was a sleepy, stupid Spanish prince of Boyal blood, or bland and self-astonished English peer, or lazy and good-natured Turkish diplomatist ; butt to-night the excitement warn intense, for was not the great, the graceful, the refined, the witty, the sought-after Marquis de Yalreas coming, and was this not the consummation of the Mexican woman’s highest ambition? A week ago she would not have believed the thing possible. She had been accustomed to seeing the Marquis’s name in the papers announcing bis presence at various gatherings of the blue-bloods, and had known for some time his pleasant, high-bred face by sight, from seeing him at the Bois and Opera ; but that he could be induced to come to one of her January jeudis was a felicity she had never contemplated. It had been brought about (or, rather, was to be brought about, for she knew well she could not be absolutely certain of the blessing until she actually saw him in the room) by the übiquitous Carolus d’Yqnem, than whom no man was more useful in his day. There was nothing, it would appear, he could not do, and to oblige a friend he would do most things. Are you anxious to go to the Conservatoire, and has everyone told you it is quite impossible ? D’Yquem happens to know that the Princesse de M does not want her box oto that particular day, and in two hours it is in your possession. Are you desirous that the Baron H

should take into consideration your economical plan of accommodating labourers with bedrooms in the egouts, and has everyone told you it is easier to find the Emperor alone than that great man ? D’Yquem arranges matters, so that in a week you have the Baron all to yourself at a charming little dinner-party at the Pavilion Henry IV. Are you anxious to see a most remarkable missal, that is worth more than twice its weight in gold, and that is so jealously guarded by its owner, Madame la Baronne A. de R , that not even the most distinguished cognoscenti are allowed to see it ? The day after to-morrow d’Yquem will procure you the inestimable privilege, only stipulating that you must not breathe upon the marvel. He was a treasure, was Carolus d’Yquem ! And when, at length, at a quarter to twelve, {the surly Alsatian footman announced ‘Monsieur le Marquis de Valr&as!’ the enraptured creole felt that he was, indeed, a god of beneficence. There was a pause ; a momentary stillness fell upon the room; and if Waldteufel—who knew Sosthene well, and had had many private and confidential interviews with him relative to cotillions—had not, in a stubborn way, continued to hammer out, with an intoxicating contretemps, the latest of his charming waltzes, the silence would have been unbroken. The American women all drew themselves up, tried to look at their ease, and murmured ' Oh, my ! * as Sosthene bowed with easy grace to Madame de Manzanilla, who was giddy with great and sudden joy. After a few careless compliments, poor Sosthene endeavoured to make more headway into the room, in the despairing hope of finding, perhaps, some one he knew, at least, by sight, and his hostess was too clever not to perceive that it would be dangerous not to let him have his own way for a few minutes. He had nearly given up in despair, and was turning over in his mind how much longer it was absolutely necessary for him to stay, when a hand was placed on his shoulder, and turning, he perceived the pale, grave face of the Vicomte d’YquQm smiling pityingly upon him. • Tie ns, e’est toi! lam delighted to sea you, for I was beginning to fear that I should know no one.’ ‘ I am sure notr cherce hotesse would only bo too delighted to introduce you to everyone,’ replied Carolus, smiling. * Dieu m'en preserve ! I don’t care to, know any one now I have found you especially as I must leave in ten minutes, for I promised to be at the Circle at halfpast twelve, and I am dead tired as it is.’ 4 Pauvre enfant ! It was very good of you to come. I ’ But just at this juncture a fine, tall woman, gorgeously dressed, and covered with diamonds, came up to Sosthaie, and said, with a strong nasal twang, but otherwise with capital accent, 4 The Marquis de Valreas, I believe ? Sosthene was so taken aback, that he stared at the womau in amazement, and then bowed.

‘ 1 am delighted to see you looking so well. lam Mrs Colonel Jabez P. Possum. I knew the Empress very well indeed. The Marquis of Brentford of England is here. Shall I introduce you ?’ All this in a breath, and coming from a woman he had never seen before in his life, almost stunned the young Frenchman, and he might have caused a scandal by falling insensible had not Carolus come to his rescue. ‘ You forget all your old friends, Madame Possoom, I have something very particular to ask you in a minute. ’ Then lowering his voice so that no one but Mrs Colonel P could hear, he continued, * I am trying to get De Valreas to come to your ball on Wednesday. If you will only leave us alone for a minute I can settle the matter, and you shall have him all to yourself for the rest of the e vetting.’ {To ha continued,)