In the Shadow of Young Girls in Flower (6 page)

After launching this quotation M. de Norpois paused and examined our
faces, to see what effect it had had upon us. Its effect was great,
the proverb being familiar to us already. It had taken the place, that
year, among people who 'really counted,' of "He who sows the wind shall
reap the whirlwind," which was sorely in need of a rest, not having the
perennial freshness of "Working for the King of Prussia." For the
culture of these eminent men was an alternate, if not a tripartite and
triennial culture. Of course, the use of quotations such as these,
with which M. de Norpois excelled in jewelling his articles in the
Revue
, was in no way essential to their appearing solid and
well–informed. Even without the ornament which the quotations
supplied, it sufficed that M. de Norpois should write at a given point
(as he never failed to write): "The Court of St. James's was not the
last to be sensible of the peril," or "Feeling ran high on the Singers'
Bridge, which with anxious eyes was following the selfish but skilful
policy of the Dual Monarchy," or "A cry of alarm sounded from
Montecitorio," or yet again, "That everlasting double–dealing which is
so characteristic of the Ballplatz." By these expressions the profane
reader had at once recognised and had paid deference to the diplomat
de carrière
. But what had made people say that he was something more
than that, that he was endowed with a superior culture, had been his
careful use of quotations, the perfect example of which, at that date,
was still: "Give me a good policy and I will give you good finances,
to quote the favourite words of Baron Louis
": for we had not yet
imported from the Far East: "Victory is on the side that can hold out
a quarter of an hour longer than the other,
as the Japanese say
."
This reputation for immense literary gifts, combined with a positive
genius for intrigue which he kept concealed beneath a mask of
indifference, had secured the election of M. de Norpois to the
Académie des Sciences Morales. And there were some who even thought
that he would riot be out of place in the Académie Française, on the
famous day when, wishing to indicate that it was only by drawing the
Russian Alliance closer that we could hope to arrive at an
understanding with Great Britain, he had not hesitated to write: "Be
it clearly understood in the Quai d'Orsay, be it taught henceforward
in all the manuals of geography, which appear to be incomplete in this
respect, be his certificate of graduation remorselessly withheld from
every candidate who has not learned to say, 'If all roads lead to
Rome, nevertheless the way from Paris to London runs of necessity
through St. Petersburgh.'"

"In short," M. de Norpois went on, addressing my father, "Vaugoubert
has won himself considerable distinction from this affair, quite
beyond anything on which he can have reckoned. He expected, you
understand, a correctly worded speech (which, after the storm–clouds
of recent years, would have been something to the good) but nothing
more. Several persons who had the honour to be present have assured me
that it is impossible, when one merely reads the speech, to form any
conception of the effect that it produced when uttered—when
articulated with marvellous clearness of diction by the King, who is a
master of the art of public speaking and in that passage underlined
every possible shade of meaning. I allowed myself, in this connexion,
to listen to a little anecdote which brings into prominence once again
that frank, boyish charm by which King Theodosius has won so many
hearts. I am assured that, just as he uttered that word 'affinities,'
which was, of course, the startling innovation of the speech, and one
that, as you will see, will provoke discussion in the Chancellories
for years to come, his Majesty, anticipating the delight of our
Ambassador, who was to find in that word the seal, the crown set upon
all his labours, on his dreams, one might almost say, and, in a word,
his marshal's baton, made a half turn towards Vaugoubert and fixing
upon him his arresting gaze, so characteristic of the Oettingens,
fired at him that admirably chosen word 'affinities,' a positive
treasure–trove, uttering it in a tone which made it plain to all his
hearers that it was employed of set purpose and with full knowledge of
the circumstances. It appears that Vaugoubert found some difficulty in
mastering his emotion, and I must confess that, to a certain extent, I
can well understand it. Indeed, a person who is entirely to be
believed has told me, in confidence, that the King came up to
Vaugoubert after the dinner, when His Majesty was holding an informal
court, and was heard to say, 'Well, are you satisfied with your pupil,
my dear Marquis?'

"One thing, however," M. de Norpois concluded, "is certain; and that
is that a speech like that has done more than twenty years of
negotiation towards bringing the two countries together, uniting their
'affinities,' to borrow the picturesque expression of Theodosius II.
It is no more than a word, if you like, but look what success it has
had, how the whole of the European press is repeating it, what
interest it has aroused, what a new note it has struck. Besides it is
distinctly in the young Sovereign's manner. I will not go so far as
to say that he lights upon a diamond of that water every day. But it
is very seldom that, in his prepared speeches, or better still in the
impulsive flow of his conversation, he does not reveal his
character—I was on the point of saying 'does not affix his
signature'—by the use of some incisive word. I myself am quite free
from any suspicion of partiality in this respect, for I am stoutly
opposed to all innovations in terminology. Nine times out of ten they
are most dangerous."

"Yes, I was thinking, only the other day, that the German Emperor's
telegram could not be much to your liking," said my father.

M. de Norpois raised his eyes to heaven, as who should say, "Oh, that
fellow!" before he replied: "In the first place, it is an act of
ingratitude. It is more than a crime; it is a blunder, and one of a
crassness which I can describe only as pyramidal! Indeed, unless some
one puts a check on his activities, the man who has got rid of
Bismarck is quite capable of repudiating by degrees the whole of the
Bismarckian policy; after which it will be a leap in the dark."

"My husband tells me, sir, that you are perhaps going to take him to
Spain one summer; that will be nice for him; I am so glad."

"Why, yes; it is an idea that greatly attracts me; I amuse myself,
planning a tour. I should like to go there with you, my dear fellow.
But what about you, Madame; have you decided yet how you are going to
spend your holidays?"

"I shall perhaps go with my son to Balbec, but I am not certain."

"Oh, but Balbec is quite charming, I was down that way a few years
ago. They are beginning to build some very pretty little–villas there;
I think you'll like the place. But may I ask what has made you choose
Balbec?"

"My son is very anxious to visit some of the churches in that
neighbourhood, and Balbec church in particular. I was a little afraid
that the tiring journey there, and the discomfort of staying in the
place might be too much for him. But I hear that they have just opened
an excellent hotel, in which he will be able to get all the comfort
that he requires."

"Indeed! I must make a note of that, for a certain person who will not
turn up her nose at a comfortable hotel."

"The church at Balbec is very beautiful, sir, is it not?" I inquired,
repressing my sorrow at learning that one of the attractions of Balbec
consisted in its pretty little villas.

"No, it is not bad; but it cannot be compared for a moment with such
positive jewels in stone as the Cathedrals of Rheims and Chartres, or
with what is to my mind the pearl among them all, the Sainte–Chapelle
here in Paris."

"But, surely, Balbec church is partly romanesque, is it not?"

"Why, yes, it is in the romanesque style, which is to say very cold
and lifeless, with no hint in it anywhere of the grace, the fantasy of
the later gothic builders, who worked their stone as if it had been so
much lace. Balbec church is well worth a visit, if you are in those
parts; it is decidedly quaint; on a wet day, when you have nothing
better to do, you might look inside; you will see the tomb of
Tourville."

"Tell me, were you at the Foreign Ministry dinner last night?" asked
my father. "I couldn't go."

"No," M. de Norpois smiled, "I must confess that I renounced it for a
party of a very different sort. I was dining with a lady whose name
you may possibly have heard, the beautiful Mme. Swann." My mother
checked an impulsive movement, for, being more rapid in perception
than my father, she used to alarm herself on his account over things
which only began to upset him a moment later. Anything unpleasant that
might occur to him was discovered first by her, just as bad news from
France is always known abroad sooner than among ourselves. But she was
curious to know what sort of people the Swanns managed to entertain,
and so inquired of M. de Norpois as to whom he had met there.

"Why, my dear lady, it is a house which (or so it struck me) is
especially attractive to gentlemen. There were several married men
there last night, but their wives were all, as it happened, unwell,
and so had not come with them," replied the Ambassador with a mordancy
sheathed in good–humour, casting on each of us a glance the gentleness
and discretion of which appeared to be tempering while in reality they
deftly intensified its malice.

"In all fairness," he went on, "I must add that women do go to the
house, but women who belong rather—what shall I say—to the
Republican world than to Swann's" (he pronounced it "Svann's")
"circle. Still, you can never tell. Perhaps it will turn into a
political or a literary salon some day. Anyhow, they appear to be
quite happy as they are. Indeed, I feel that Swann advertises his
happiness just a trifle too blatantly. He told us the names of all the
people who had asked him and his wife out for the next week, people
with whom there was no particular reason to be proud of being
intimate, with a want of reserve, of taste, almost of tact which I was
astonished to remark in so refined a man. He kept on repeating, 'We
haven't a free evening!' as though that had been a thing to boast of,
positively like a
parvenu
, and he is certainly not that. For Swann
had always plenty of friends, women as well as men, and without
seeming over–bold, without the least wish to appear indiscreet, I
think I may safely say that not all of them, of course, nor even the
majority of them, but one at least, who is a lady of the very highest
rank, would perhaps not have shewn herself inexorably averse from the
idea of entering upon relations with Mme. Swann, in which case it is
safe to assume that more than one sheep of the social flock would have
followed her lead. But it seems that there has been no indication on
Swann's part of any movement in that direction.

"What do I see? A Nesselrode pudding! As well! I declare, I shall need
a course at Carlsbad after such a Lucullus–feast as this.

"Possibly Swann felt that there would be too much resistance to
overcome. The marriage—so much is certain—was not well received.
There has been some talk of his wife's having money, but that is all
humbug. Anyhow, the whole affair has been looked upon with disfavour.
And then, Swann has an aunt who is excessively rich and in an
admirable position socially, married to a man who, financially
speaking, is a power. Not only has she refused to meet Mme. Swann, she
has actually started a campaign to force her friends and acquaintances
to do the same. I do not mean to say that anyone who moves in a good
circle in Paris has shewn any actual incivility to Mme. Swann…. No!
A hundred times no! Quite apart from her husband's being eminently a
man to take up the challenge. Anyhow, there is one curious thing
about it, to see the immense importance that Swann, who knows so many
and such exclusive people, attaches to a society of which the best
that can be said is that it is extremely mixed. I myself, who knew him
in the old days, must admit that I felt more astonished than amused at
seeing a man so well–bred as he is, so much at home in the best
houses, effusively thanking the Chief Secretary to the Minister of
Posts for having come to them, and asking him whether Mme. Swann might
take the liberty
of calling upon his wife. He must feel something of
an exile, don't you know; evidently, it's quite a different world. I
don't think, all the same, that Swann is unhappy. It is true that for
some years before the marriage she was always trying to blackmail him
in a rather disgraceful way; she would take the child away whenever
Swann refused her anything. Poor Swann, who is as unsophisticated as
he is, for all that, sharp, believed every time that the child's
disappearance was a coincidence, and declined to face the facts. Apart
from that, she made such continual scenes that everyone expected that,
from the day she attained her object and was safely married, nothing
could possibly restrain her and that their life would be a hell on
earth. Instead of which, just the opposite has happened. People are
inclined to laugh at the way in which Swann speaks of his wife; it's
become a standing joke. Of course, one could hardly expect that,
conscious, more or less of being a—(you remember Molière's line) he
would go and proclaim it
urbi et orbi
; still that does not prevent
one from finding a tendency in him to exaggerate when he declares that
she makes an excellent wife. And yet that is not so far from the truth
as people imagine. In her own way—which is not, perhaps, what all
husbands would prefer, but then, between you and me, I find it
difficult to believe that Swann, who has known her for ever so long
and is far from being an utter fool, did not know what to
expect—there can be no denying that she does seem to have a certain
regard for him. I do not say that she is not flighty, and Swann
himself has no fault to find with her for that, if one is to believe
the charitable tongues which, as you may suppose, continue to wag. But
she is distinctly grateful to him for what he has done for her, and,
despite the fears that were everywhere expressed of the contrary, her
temper seems to have become angelic."