The Colonel's Nieces

CHAPTER SEVEN

Crossing the threshold of his aunt's parlor, Gaston was fully prepared to receive a lecture. He realized that he richly deserved the worst scolding of his life. He was therefore utterly surprised when his aunt kissed him, almost affectionately, upon his forehead, exclaiming, “At last! The prodigal son has remembered his old home, and has felt the need to rest a little and breathe the air of our forests!”

“I have come especially to see you, dear aunt Athena. It has been so long since we have seen each other.”

“The doors of Saski Castle are always open to you, nephew.”

“And you see that I have not forgotten.”

“Is Paris really so splendid that you can no longer tear yourself away from it?”

“Oh, yes! Once you have lived in Paris, you no longer wish to leave it.”

“Is that true?”

“It's exactly as I have told you.”

“In that case, dear Gaston, I would like to put that to the test. I am going back with you to France whenever you have another attack of the traveling mood.”

If lightning had struck the Count, he could not have been more overwhelmed. He stared at his aunt in disbelief but saw that she was dead serious. What was more, she smiled! It looked a little unnatural on her, because he had never seen his aunt smile.

“Are you really Considering a visit to Paris, dearest Aunt? You can see that I am very surprised, but let me assure you that it is a happy surprise and I shall be honored to show you this most beautiful of all cities.”

“Tell me about it. It interests me.”

And Gaston told her, painting all the enchantments of Paris in glowing colors, leaving out a detail here and there when he was sure that this would not particularly interest his stern maiden aunt. But in all the glowing pictures he painted he did not mention Julia with a single word, or a single allusion. He was delighted about her interest in the city, and he hoped that the bitter pill of one hundred and fifty thousand francs would go down easily.

“Wouldn't it be better to confess?” he asked himself. “Oh, well, I am going to be here for quite a few days, and I am not in that much of a hurry,” and they talked and talked till dinner was announced.

This was the day that the Count would roll from one big surprise right into another. Just before the majordomo opened the wide doors leading to the dining hall, a ravishing beauty, dressed in mourning, entered the parlor. Gaston's eyes popped out. The girl was obviously at home in these surroundings and when Aunt Athena introduced her, she answered Gaston's enthusiastic greetings with a gracious nod.

“Her Ladyship Wilhelmina Soustbacka, grand-daughter of one of my dearest friends whom we had the misfortune to lose several months ago.”

The sad memory clouded the beautiful dark eyes of the lovely child. Tali, gracious and of noble bearing, this sad beauty, who could not possibly have been more than eighteen years old, startled Gaston. And Paris had made him blase and jaded! He had seldom seen such desirable beauty.

Dinner was pleasant. Gaston put his beat foot forward, his aunt was in an excellent mood, the young cheered up the house and made it feel and look comfortable. Gaston could have listened to the music of her golden voice forever.

He decided not to talk about leaving yet, and the two weeks flew by Without Gaston having mentioned the first word of his famous confession. But the matter was becoming very urgent and his aunt gave him the opportunity to talk about it, when she said. “I would like to know, Gaston, in what state your finances are. I understand that life in Paris is very expensive, but it seems to me that you have spent very little in comparison.”

“That is because I have a lot of debts.”

“What? A Saski has debts?!”

“What do you expect? Even when one is a Saski… you have to pay when you have debts, and if you cannot pay, you must borrow.”

“And exactly how much do you owe?”

Gaston told her the entire story of the debt and talked about it for a long time, explaining the temptations of the big city. When he had finished his story, Aunt Athena put on her most formal expression and she told him that she would pay under one condition: That he remain at Saski Castle till next spring, and then accompany her to Paris.

“Then you were serious about going to Paris?”

“Of course I was. And now I am more determined than ever, after all the beautiful things I have heard.”

What could he do?

Gaston thought about Julia, but he also thought about the money he owed Don Jose. The two thoughts were of equal importance to him, and it would have been impossible to say which one would have won the battle in his mind if it weren't for Wilhelmina's reflection in one of the mirrored doors.

“Your wish is my command dear aunt,” he said.

“In that case, nephew, give a list of your debts to my majordomo, and he will take care of them.”

“Look, Aunt Athena,” said Gaston, who was no longer listening to what the old woman said, “how beautiful your young friend is.”

Athena looked at the young girl. “Poor child,” she said. “Yes, she is beautiful, but this beauty which seems to delight you so much is a terrible gift of fate.”

“Why?”

“Because the enormous fortune to which she should have fallen heir was squandered away by scoundrels who had her grandmother's confidence. When the old woman died, it turned out that the Soustbacka fortune no longer existed. I intend to take her with me to Paris, and I trust that you will help us find a position for her as a companion to some lady of influence.”

“I'll be delighted.”

From now on Gaston looked upon Wilhelmina in an entirely different way. She was destined to go down at least one step on the social scale, and she no longer belonged to his own class. In other words, as far as Gaston was concerned, the beautiful young damsel had become fair game. That next morning, during breakfast, he paid quite a lot of attention-as well as daring compliments-to the luscious Wilhelmina. His aunt did not seem to notice his difference in attitude.

The young girl wanted to go riding that morning, and Gaston offered to accompany her. She was very charming, but still she had the reserved attitude of the upper classes and it made it a little difficult for Gaston to be direct about his wishes. The end result of that morning's riding was that Gaston's imagination was highly inflamed, he became more and more passionate, he fell desperately in love, and his ardor knew no bounds. His ecstasy found an echo, even though at this point it was merely platonic. Because Wilhelmina dreamed of marrying, Gaston, obviously, did no such thing. With his aunt's ideas… and a girl without a fortune… ridiculous! But as his mistress… that was something entirely different.

He gained ground rapidly. So much, in fact, that one day the young girl allowed him to kiss her. Once, twice… and more.

“Go ahead,” she seemed to say, and Gaston did not have to be invited twice.

They held secret meetings in the gallery where all Gaston's ancestors sternly stared down from their portraits. They met behind the heavy tapestries, passing deliciously forbidden moments together.

One day, Wilhelmina reclined a little bit too far on a divan which was at the feet of an imposing statue of Count Stanislas Saski. And under the very eyes of this iron-clad warrior of bygone times, Gaston collected Lady Wilhelmina's cherry, removing her innocence and, he thought, smoothing the path of making her his mistress.

But, alas! He had forgotten about Countess Athena. She had watched the proceedings from behind one of the tapestries and, just at the moment when Gaston retracted his limp, bloodstained tool, she popped from behind the curtains. Memories from days gone by hardened her features. Forgotten were the promises she had extracted from her nephew. She could identify too closely with poor Wilhelmina. Her face was contorted, her yellow teeth seemed twice as big, and her eyes were blazing. She looked like the bogey man which scares little children so much.

Though the Count was no longer a little child, he was petrified at the sight of his aunt. The girl scrambled hastily from the divan and threw herself at the feet of the old fury.

“Mercy! Oh, have mercy! I did wrong, but he promised to marry me!”

“Infamy! Sacrilege!” cried Athena menacingly. “This child was given into my care by her dying relative, my only friend! And you, my own nephew, under my very roof, dishonored her. Curse you!”

“I beg your mercy! He will make good his promise!”

“Gaston, do you hear this child? What do you have to say?”

“I am at your mercy, and I will do everything you wish to obtain your pardon.”

“There is only one honorable thing you can do. You took away this girl's honor, and you shall have to restore it to her.”

Gaston could have cursed himself. Indeed, Wilhelmina was very charming. But to marry a woman without a fortune and to lose Julia… it was too much! But then, what could he do? There was no way out.

“Dear aunt Athena,” he managed to stammer, “I could not bear so much happiness.”

“Whether you can bear it or not is none of my business,” the charming old lady answered coldly, “but if you do not marry the Lady Soustbacka within fourteen days, I will forbid you to ever set foot in Saski Castle again, I shall cut you out of my heart and my will, and I shall instruct the majordomo to forget about settling those debts you have made in Paris.” She turned around, walked sedately past the portraits of her ancestors, and left the young couple desolate under the statue of Count Stanislas.

And so it was done. Fourteen days later in the brilliantly lit chapel of the castle, the young couple were pronounced man and wife. And Gaston was truly happy, because, instead of marrying a poor girl, it turned out that the famous Soustbacka fortune was still intact, and Wilhelmina was the richest heiress in all of Poland. In the back of his mind Gaston could not help but think that this whole affair had been anticipated by his wily aunt.

And what about Julia?

Yes, what about her.

Since his departure, she had not received a single letter from Gaston and Gaston had never received a single letter from Julia. Mainly, because Julia's letters were collected in one of the desk drawers of Aunt Athena.

Julia's heart was breaking, especially since she found out that the debt with Don Jose had been settled a long time ago. The old General tried to console her as well as he could. However, one morning her mood was a mixture of hopelessness and indignation.

“What's wrong, dear child?” he asked.

“Here, read it yourself,” she said. “I don't have the courage to tell you.”

And the General read a letter from the majordomo, addressed to Miss Julia Thorel, informing her that on behalf of his Lordship the Count Saski, she was hereby given the sum of one hundred thousand francs with his thanks for the many pleasant moments spent in her company during his stay in Paris.

“I am sure that Gaston is unaware of this indignity,” said the General, “but I am afraid that you must expect a complete break in your relationship with him. But this,” and he pointed at the letter, “is not from him. What are you going to do?”

“I'll send it back with a simple note: Sorry wrong address.”

“Splendid! But be sure that you write it to the Count personally so that he will know what has been going on.”

And so it was done.

Countess Athena was quite surprised to receive information from her majordomo that her generosity had met with so little success. She assumed that Julia did not think the sum large enough, and she increased it by another fifty thousand francs. However, the letter was again returned unopened, simply stating, “Sorry, wrong address.”

This time, the old Countess was forced to concede that, although Julia was a foolish girl, she was definitely not a French whore who had latched on to her nephew in the hope of receiving a great fortune.

Since her nephew was now married and could no longer escape, she decided to give him the letters that Julia had written. The argument which followed between aunt and nephew was, to say the least, rather stormy. But, there was nothing that could be done other than writing an affectionate and repentant letter. Julia wrote a curt response: “At least for once in your life you were honest. I wish you happiness, Julia.”

Angered, his pride hurt, Gaston showed the note to his aunt. The old Countess not only felt sorry for the girl she had never met, but also experienced a few twinges of conscience.

Several weeks passed. Julia had sold her home and most of the furniture in the Rue de Gourcelles and moved into the mansion on the Boulevard St. Michel. With the help of Don Jose's lawyer she had ventured into a very advantageous business deal which had made her financially independent.

Suddenly, one morning, she received a note from her aunt Briquart from whom she had not heard ever since she had left, the house.

“I must talk to you. Come immediately,” the Colonel's wife had written.

These few little lines intrigued Julia.

“Now what on earth would she want from me?”

But she would find out soon. Madame Briquart had had two visitors. The Countess Saski had insisted upon an audience with the aunt of the girl who had been ruined by her nephew. She wanted to make amends, but, since Julia was so headstrong, the old lady decided to visit Julia's aunt. She had insisted upon settling two hundred thousand francs in the girl's name, but, since Julia refused to accept, she had given the money to the Colonel's wife in safekeeping. Madame Briquart knew Julia well and decided not to mention anything about Countess Athena's visit. “The girl will find those two hundred thousand francs when I die,” she had thought, “and then it will be too late for the foolish girl to refuse such a windfall.”

The second visitor to Madame Briquart was the reason for the note she had sent to her niece.

Don Jose de Corriero had officially asked her for the hand of Miss Julia Thorel.

“But, General,” the good woman had babbled, slightly bewildered, “I don't know if I have the right.”

“Madame, you must! I know everything. It is the dignified manner with which Miss Julia has weathered the storm, not to mention all the other good qualities of her heart and mind, which have made me decide to offer her the parental support.” He emphasized those words.

“Soon I will no longer be here and my death will insure her a gilded independence. I will have repaid her for the many kindnesses she has bestowed upon my old age, and I shall have the satisfaction of knowing that I have repaired a grave injustice.”

“In that case, Sir, I can only thank Providence.”

“Before you do that, Madame. I would suggest breaking down any of your niece's scruples. She might not want a marriage of gratefulness.”

“You can rely upon me, General.”

And so it happened that Miss Thorel dropped the phony name of Viscountess Saniska, exchanging it for the legitimate name of Donna Jose de Corriero.

“She must be under the protection of a special angel,” thought Madame Briquart when, after the quiet wedding, the carriage of the newlyweds rolled away.

This then, was the story of the early years of two sisters, the niece's of the Colonel's wife. Their maidenhood, and the loss of it. Their lack of fortune, and the gain of it. We shall follow their life story in a second book.