按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
Papal States。 Her elder sister had been betrothed to Prince
Gandolphini； one of the richest landowners in Sicily； and Francesca
was married to him instead； so that nothing might be changed in the
position of the family。 The Colonnas and Gandolphinis had always
intermarried。
From the age of nine till she was sixteen； Francesca； under the
direction of a Cardinal of the family； had read all through the
library of the Colonnas； to make weight against her ardent imagination
by studying science； art； and letters。 But in these studies she
acquired the taste for independence and liberal ideas； which threw
her； with her husband； into the ranks of the revolution。 Rodolphe had
not yet learned that； besides five living languages； Francesca knew
Greek； Latin； and Hebrew。 The charming creature perfectly understood
that； for a woman； the first condition of being learned is to keep it
deeply hidden。
Rodolphe spent the whole winter at Geneva。 This winter passed like a
day。 When spring returned； notwithstanding the infinite delights of
the society of a clever woman； wonderfully well informed； young and
lovely； the lover went through cruel sufferings； endured indeed with
courage； but which were sometimes legible in his countenance； and
betrayed themselves in his manners or speech； perhaps because he
believed that Francesca shared them。 Now and again it annoyed him to
admire her calmness。 Like an Englishwoman； she seemed to pride herself
on expressing nothing in her face； its serenity defied love； he longed
to see her agitated； he accused her of having no feeling； for he
believed in the tradition which ascribes to Italian women a feverish
excitability。
〃I am a Roman！〃 Francesca gravely replied one day when she took quite
seriously some banter on this subject from Rodolphe。
There was a depth of tone in her reply which gave it the appearance of
scathing irony； and which set Rodolphe's pulses throbbing。 The month
of May spread before them the treasures of her fresh verdure； the sun
was sometimes as powerful as at midsummer。 The two lovers happened to
be at a part of the terrace where the rock arises abruptly from the
lake； and were leaning over the stone parapet that crowns the wall
above a flight of steps leading down to a landing…stage。 From the
neighboring villa； where there is a similar stairway； a boat presently
shot out like a swan； its flag flaming； its crimson awning spread over
a lovely woman comfortably reclining on red cushions； her hair
wreathed with real flowers； the boatman was a young man dressed like a
sailor； and rowing with all the more grace because he was under the
lady's eye。
〃They are happy！〃 exclaimed Rodolphe； with bitter emphasis。 〃Claire de
Bourgogne； the last survivor of the only house which can ever vie with
the royal family of France〃
〃Oh！ of a bastard branch； and that a female line。〃
〃At any rate； she is Vicomtesse de Beauseant； and she did not〃
〃Did not hesitate； you would say； to bury herself here with Monsieur
Gaston de Nueil； you would say；〃 replied the daughter of the Colonnas。
〃She is only a Frenchwoman； I am an Italian； my dear sir！〃
Francesca turned away from the parapet； leaving Rodolphe； and went to
the further end of the terrace； whence there is a wide prospect of the
lake。 Watching her as she slowly walked away； Rodolphe suspected that
he had wounded her soul； at once so simple and so wise； so proud and
so humble。 It turned him cold； he followed Francesca； who signed to
him to leave her to herself。 But he did not heed the warning； and
detected her wiping away her tears。 Tears！ in so strong a nature。
〃Francesca；〃 said he； taking her hand； 〃is there a single regret in
your heart？〃
She was silent； disengaged her hand which held her embroidered
handkerchief； and again dried her eyes。
〃Forgive me！〃 he said。 And with a rush； he kissed her eyes to wipe
away the tears。
Francesca did not seem aware of his passionate impulse； she was so
violently agitated。 Rodolphe； thinking she consented； grew bolder； he
put his arm round her； clasped her to his heart； and snatched a kiss。
But she freed herself by a dignified movement of offended modesty；
and； standing a yard off； she looked at him without anger； but with
firm determination。
〃Go this evening；〃 she said。 〃We meet no more till we meet at Naples。〃
This order was stern； but it was obeyed； for it was Francesca's will。
On his return to Paris Rodolphe found in his rooms a portrait of
Princess Gandolphini painted by Schinner； as Schinner can paint。 The
artist had passed through Geneva on his way to Italy。 As he had
positively refused to paint the portraits of several women； Rodolphe
did not believe that the Prince； anxious as he was for a portrait of
his wife； would be able to conquer the great painter's objections； but
Francesca； no doubt； had bewitched him； and obtained from himwhich
was almost a miraclean original portrait for Rodolphe； and a
duplicate for Emilio。 She told him this in a charming and delightful
letter； in which the mind indemnified itself for the reserve required
by the worship of the proprieties。 The lover replied。 Thus began；
never to cease； a regular correspondence between Rodolphe and
Francesca； the only indulgence they allowed themselves。
Rodolphe； possessed by an ambition sanctified by his love； set to
work。 First he longed to make his fortune； and risked his all in an
undertaking to which he devoted all his faculties as well as his
capital； but he； an inexperienced youth； had to contend against
duplicity； which won the day。 Thus three years were lost in a vast
enterprise； three years of struggling and courage。
The Villele ministry fell just when Rodolphe was ruined。 The valiant
lover thought he would seek in politics what commercial industry had
refused him； but before braving the storms of this career； he went；
all wounded and sick at heart； to have his bruises healed and his
courage revived at Naples； where the Prince and Princess had been
reinstated in their place and rights on the King's accession。 This； in
the midst of his warfare； was a respite full of delights； he spent
three months at the Villa Gandolphini； rocked in hope。
Rodolphe then began again to construct his fortune。 His talents were
already known； he was about to attain the desires of his ambition； a
high position was promised him as the reward of his zeal； his
devotion； and his past services； when the storm of July 1830 broke；
and again his bark was swamped。
She； and God！ These are the only witnesses of the brave efforts； the
daring attempts of a young man gifted with fine qualities； but to
whom； so far； the protection of luckthe god of foolshas been
denied。 And this indefatigable wrestler； upheld by love； comes back to
fresh struggles； lighted on his way by an always friendly eye； an ever
faithful heart。
Lovers！ Pray for him！
*****
As she finished this narrative； Mademoiselle de Watteville's cheeks
were on fire； there was a fever in her blood。 She was cryingbut with
rage。 This little novel； inspired by the literary style then in
fashion； was the first reading of the kind that Rosalie had ever had
the chance of devouring。 Lo