The small Canoness E-Book

Delly

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Seitenzahl: 216

Beschreibung

An intimate drama, which takes place sometimes in the society mixed with lounges where one is not bored, sometimes in the moving environment of a Pyrenean ambulance or among the somewhat enclosed lives of the province. Miss Elys de Valromée, whom, despite her eighteenth birthday, is called Madame la Chanoinesse, did not take a vow of celibacy when she entered the Sainte-Edwige chapter, but convinced herself that she would never get married. Is she not mistaken?

Leseprobe

The small Canoness

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Delly

The small Canoness

Novel

Reference Edition:

Paris, Librairie Plon, 1919.

"Neither the distance nor death can not break real love; he digs the soul especially as he is deprived of expansion outside. "

Lacordaire.

1

Guests Ogier Chancenay were having tea in the afternoon of September on deck wet yacht to a small Italian port. They had before them the village, with houses scattered in picturesque disorder, half its gardens hidden behind the huge fig leaves laden with fruit, its olive wood and orange trees caressed by the setting sun. Boats, their sails taut red, returning loaded with fish, mounted by men of dark complexion who saluted in passing strangers. They were moored along the harbor, where the women's half-dark hair covered with a scarlet scarf stood ready to remove the product from fishing. And also brown children father and mother ran, continued barefoot, throwing squeals and crows on a summer evening.

William Horne, a young Englishman to smart and fine physiognomy, said to his neighbor, the fat Baron Pardeuil:

- Pretty, huh, this village?

The other advanced lip in a pout he thought probably the most pleasing effect.

- Nice ... Humph! All this looks like! ... I, you know, nature ...

And he snapped his fingers.

William suppressed a smirk, asking:

- So how did you accept the invitation Chancenay for this cruise? You must bore you terribly, if the sight of these charming landscapes nothing to you?

- No, no, I do not mind! We eat admirably, M. Chancenay! He headed a true artist! ... And how to find the time long, in an amiable company?

The look of Baron brushed male guests, and stopped on a beautiful blonde person, very elegant, swinging in a rocking chair while causing rambling with its neighbors.

We would too knew what age to give it, so the freshness of her face was met with art. And no less picky, perhaps, would have appeared marital status, in case something strange would have undertaken research on this. She said French, widow of a Hungarian, and called himself the Doucza countess. It was calculated that having a girl of twenty, she had to be around forty. On average intelligence, but flexible, skilled, able to adapt to all environments, it happened, while belonging to a common world "in between", cosmopolitan and unscrupulous enough on the chapter morality, to squeeze with his daughter in the best society, in favor of worldly tolerance in use in our time.

It was well Ogier Chancenay had known. A few months earlier, at a charity auction organized by his aunt, Viscountess of challanges he had bought flowers to the pretty Sari Doucza. This has left him that he liked a lot, and it would not be a difficult conquest, Ogier had seen her very happy, because he found it fun, and does not embarrassed to have to its assets a fancy addition, it would shake tomorrow as he had already made a number of others.

Moreover, his opinion about the mother and daughter was summed up in the fact that among the more or less intimate male relationships invited to this cruise, Ms. Doucza and Sari were the only women invited.

Since no one had thought to be a rival of Count Chancenay, all tributes, deviating from the second, flowed back toward the beautiful widow who received them with amiable serenity, giving some preference to M. Pardeuil, very anxious about her.

William Horne alone remained unmoved. With his British phlegm, he made small studies of character on his shipmates, and followed a quiet eye flirting with his cousin Sari Doucza Ogier.

It was he who announced:

- That Chancenay and Miss Doucza returning.

The looks headed for the port. The boat of the yacht slowly walked away from it, in the light of the setting that was to spring from its copper sparks, and enveloped her warm clarity yet the two young men sat in the back.

Sari had removed his hat, which rested in her lap. The sun freely stroked his blond hair, a little red, bubble wholesale headbands that could scarcely see an end face fresh complexion, and dark gray eyes, very expressive in all occupied when Mr. Chancenay ... she was really pretty, this small cosmopolitan. With this very clearly in love with the handsome gentleman sitting next to her, this beautiful Ogier Chancenay whose most prominent socialites competed attention ... "Too obviously," whispered in the ear of Mr. William Horne of Pardeuil who envied his host.

The Englishman was a shrug of the shoulders, by responding with some disdain:

- Oh ! she has finished compromising long time! ... A little more, a little less! ...

Ms. Doucza while fanning herself, ran a concerned look towards the occupants of the boat. In the light drew the slender silhouette of Mr. Chancenay his face with firm strokes, in a little haughty forehead. One annoyance crease appeared on his lips. But the eyes, very beautiful, which went from bright orange reflections, looked complacently pretty redhead they seemed fascinated.

Ms. Doucza was a smile of satisfaction, which deepened somewhat in this reflection of one of its neighbors:

- It seems like a lot to Mr. Chancenay, your lovely daughter, Madame!

The widow replied modestly:

- She's very nice, indeed, little Sari and I am pleased to see that our guest enjoy it as it deserves.

The boat approached the yacht, leaving behind a glittering wake ... He landed and nimbly, the two young people gained the bridge. Sari, at once exclaimed with a tragic air:

- Devine, mom, bad luck happens to us!

- A bad luck ... What is it, my heart?

- Mr. Chancenay found in the mail a dispatch from his grandfather, telling him that their old parent has just died there, the Jura side or I do not know where ... And! must go lead the mourning, he takes care of business regulation, because it is the Marquise Chancenay that inherits ...

Ogier interrupted

- The resolution of cases, this can be postponed. But do not expect the funeral, they. The yacht will then take us to Naples this evening. And while I will take the first train, you will continue your cruise with my cousin who will do the honors of the Dragonfly, my place. As soon as I know when I can come back, I télégraphierai to one of the scheduled stops, where you will wait for me.

Exclamations of regret words were heard ... Ms. Doucza could conceal a real consternation. She exclaimed:

- But someone he can replace you ... Another parent?

Ogier was a slight frown, by responding curtly:

- Nobody. It's mine has the duty, and I have no good reason to escape from it.

Sari dropped into a chair, sliding to his mother a disgruntled glance. Both were sighted, more than once, Mr. Chancenay could not bear a semblance of interference in his family affairs or otherwise.

Ogier sat next to his cousin, and took in a pocket of the letters he handed her.

- Here, this is for you, Willy.

- Thanks ... Does Madame de Valheuil who died?

- Herself. With it goes off this branch of the family settled in the County to the sixteenth century. I did not know her at all, except by what I said in my grandmother. It was, I think, a rather droll personality Widow ... very young, without much fortune, she lived for fifty years removed in an old, engaged in devotion to charitable works. Grandmother had more with it than relations writing once a year.

William said with a half smile:

- So, his legacy will not significantly increase your fortune?

Ogier also smiled, extending his hand to take a cigarette on the table near him.

- Indeed ... A crumbling house, mouse nest probably some small pensions ... And maybe they are they intended, by will, to good works. She should also have good reason to do so, the poor woman, knowing that neither my grandparents nor I are not exactly in need.

There was laughter around him, among them that of Sari, a little acute.

The girl sank into a deep armchair her tiny person, dressed in white. On the tip of his fingers with well-polished nails, she was slowly jump the small wind straw pot, decorated with a huge knife orange colored feathers, which served as his hat. Under the shadow of half-closed eyes, she hardly took her eyes Mr. Chancenay who was smoking nonchalantly, looking distracted, throwing a word in conversation from time to time. A reflection of the sun crept up dark blond hair, soft and wavy, until brown eyes so beautiful, where Sari was vexed to find always so ironic, under the caress charming look, instead of passion that it wanted to see ... And she thought again, with some anger: "There is something in him that I can not understand ...

Just before dinner, Sari entered the bedroom of her mother. The latter, already fully dressed, ransacking letters placed in front of her on the desk shelf. She could not suppress a movement of annoyance at the sudden appearance of his daughter, and made the gesture of pushing the letters in a drawer.

But Sari laughed.

- Oh ! you do not have to make me mystery of your correspondence, Mom! I know you loads you provide information to certain powers willing to swallow some day France and all of Europe with. It's your business, and I find nothing to complain about, especially as your little traffic allows us to conduct social life we ​​love.

She spoke softly. However, his mother waved him to be quiet, then whispered:

- You never know ... You have to caution ...

- Well, I'll have ... But you know, if I ever manage to become Countess Chancenay, it will leave here these affairs?

- Of course! We would have more need there ... Let's see, this is he arranges as you please, dear?

Sari shook his head. An annoyance of light going on in his eyes, which became almost black ... She knelt on the small sofa placed near the office and leaned against the velvet back her bare arms, very white, leaving a short sleeve tulle pink.

Ms. Doucza asked, worriedly:

- It does not go well ?

- No, not as I would like ... He's too self-possessed, forever. I have fun, that's all. I'm the distraction of the moment. Next winter will chase another one ... This is a kind of which I have not yet grasped the weak point, and on which, therefore, I have no control. But it will I get there ... Oh! ahem! I must become his wife. For if I love him for himself, I also want to have his name and his fortune!

The mother nodded:

- I think so, my dear heart ... And I think you're clever enough to succeed!.

Sari murmured thoughtfully:

- Yes, I hope so ... But it will probably be difficult, because it is very proud ... Proud of his name, proud of everything ... And then ...

She paused, clenched lips.

Ms. Doucza repeated:

- And ?

Sari said between his teeth:

- I think we despise.

- What idea ... Why?

Sari shrugged.

- They are well, men! After a woman is compromised for them, having accepted the love that is given to them, that's all they have in store in return: contempt ... and their esteem will to virtuous souls to called "blameless women."

Ms. Doucza smiled slightly.

- This is natural enough ... But is that to you, if you can make love to you enough that he offers you his name?

Sari said angrily:

- This is, precisely, it will not offer it to me, because of that ... I feel the well, go! Under his worldly appearance, elegant man of the world, there is something I can not define ... A kind of reserve, disdain ...

- Well, changes tactics, play the converted, the girl who regrets his past lightness ... This sometimes very successful.

The dark eyes brightened a bit.

- This is an idea that is perhaps not bad, Mom! I can try. Mr. Chancenay well worth the trouble bored for a few months to simulate remorse, to the serious - and even to dress up a little devotion, what do you say?

- Certainly ! Men love enough religion to their wives. And it is worn in the world belongs Mr. Chancenay ... Yes, my dear, inaugurates this new attitude soon he will be back. I hope the happiest effects, you see.

2

It was nearly ten o'clock when, two days later, Ogier went down the slow train that stopped at the small station Gouxy.

On the platform stood the servant sent by his grandfather to take her clothes needed for the ceremony, which had arrived the day before. Mr. Chancenay handed him his bag and asked:

- the Marquis and the Marquise going well, Celestine?

- Okay, count.

- Well ... On the road ... Is it far from here, the village?

- At about fifteen minutes, count ... I searched a car, but found only carts in this country, or crews that date from Methuselah, like the old castle!

And Celestin had contemptuously puckering lips.

- The car is useless. I much prefer walking.

Ogier left the little station and turned onto the road, followed by the servant. The weather was damp and dark this morning. A mist lay on wood, floated over the meadows and the torrential river, came barely distinct heights behind the gray veil. Mr. Chancenay, remembering the sun he had left, was a shiver of displeasure and thought, "I will not dwell here! As soon as the funeral ended, I'll find the Dragonfly, and this little Sari, really nice. "

While walking he evoked the lively petite figure and the pretty Hungarian, its end very mobile face, his eyes hugs, often sought his, and he boldly unveiled the love he inspired. Whatever the opinion of Ogier Chancenay about women in general, and Sari Doucza in particular, he liked to be the subject of such passionate feelings, which he did not respond. Sari had guessed, judging that it was for him only a fun distraction for a while. But the distraction it was pleasant enough so that he regretted and desired to find it quickly.

At a bend in the road he suddenly saw before him the village. A castle dominated the vast building massive and dark appearance built at the foot of a large square tower. Ogier, turning to the servant following him a short distance, pointed that remains asking:

- Is that Madame de Valheuil of home?

- No, monsieur. This is Prexeuil Castle, home to three ladies called three canons, and who were the friends of Mrs. Valheuil. Ms. Viscountess home, Pre-Blessed, as they call it here, is located between the castle and the village.

Mr. Chancenay and informed, continued to advance in the gray day on the road rising sharply. He reached the village, past the church, old and dumpy, greenish at its base by mosses crept between the ancient stones. Heads curiously leaning out of windows, women, children appeared at the entrance gates to look abroad, Madame de Valheuil parent. And many said or thought, "That's good! "

On the road was going out of the village, climbing again, a dark shape loomed. Soon, Mr. Chancenay recognized a priest.

When he came closer, he saw that he was young, strong, calm and intelligent face.

Their eyes met, and the priest came to Ogier saying:

- Count Chancenay, I think?

- Yes, Father.

- I am the pastor of Gouxy. Precisely, I just pray near Madame de Valheuil, your parent excellent, sir. It was a good woman, in every sense of the word, and his death is a great loss for my little parish.

- I knew that hearsay, Father. My grandmother had not seen for a long time ... What did she die?

- With a sudden heart failure, also planned by the doctor. She was found dead in the morning. But she was ready to die, a holy creature ... You see some downside count, that the funeral be celebrated tomorrow around ten o'clock?

- But no, Father ... absolutely no!. Rather, it is what I want.

- Well, that's agreed in this case. They will be very simple, according to the wish of the deceased ... If you were to give me some further instructions, sir, kindly let me know in the course of the day?

- Certainly, Father. But I gladly leave it to you, who are much more aware than I of the customs of the country and of Ms. Valheuil of wills.

- I paid all my best, helped by the ladies of Prexeuil, excellent friends of the deceased ... So tomorrow, count!

He shook hands proffered Mr. Chancenay, and walked away, while Ogier continued the climb the road to a junction where a narrow path led him to a great red house, high chimneys that preceded an enclosed courtyard with a simple wooden fence.

All the blinds were down before the windows topped women heads carved in stone. But the door was wide open, the high threshold of only two steps ... Ogier entered the hall a little dark, and saw coming towards him an old woman who greeted him by appointing:

- I am the woman of Madame de Valheuil chamber, count ... Rosalie ... If the Count wants to ...?

She opened the door of a door, and stood aside. Mr. Chancenay entered the room with closed curtains, lit by the candles that surrounded the coffin draped in black, on which faded flowers without perfume. In a chair, a woman sitting, telling his beads. She raised her face a little dull, still young, with calm eyes, and answered with a nod to the salvation of arriving.

Ogier threw holy water on the coffin, and remained a moment standing in a respectful attitude. From the corner of his eye, he looked at the stranger. Looking down, she continued to drag his fingers the ivory grain. Her brown hair was on her forehead two very smooth hair. She wore a black dress, very simple; but a wide ribbon royal blue flaw fell on her bodice, supporting an enameled gold cross.

Mr. Chancenay thought: "Celestine told me about three canons. This person is, of course ... and probably also one of the friends of the deceased, named by the priest. "

He expected that the unknown address him. But she continued to pray, always lowered eyelids. So Mr. Chancenay went out and found himself in the hall the maid who was waiting.

She inquired:

- Count wants it up to his room ...?

- With pleasure ... But tell me ...

He lowered his voice a little.

- ... Who is this young woman?

- Madam Countess Bathilde Valromée, one of the ladies of the castle. They were very friendly with poor Madam, all three and ensure they came near her, these days, they took care of many things ...

- This is Canoness?

- Yes, count, Canoness an Austrian chapter, as her aunt, Mrs. Antoinette Countess Prexeuil as her niece, Miss Elys ... I mean Ms. Elys of Valromée ... I feel sorry to call it ...

While walking toward the stairs that stood at the bottom of the vestibule its degrees of oak and wide ramp waxed well, Mr. Chancenay asked:

- She has a niece age to be canoness, the Countess Bathilde?

- Yes, my lord. Mrs. Bathilde has forties, Ms. Elys just turned eighteen, and chapter has received sixteen.

Ogier mused aloud:

- What a strange idea!

On the first floor, Rosalie ushered into a large room furnished with old oak hung with garnet reps. Celestin had prepared the installation of his master. When he had left his traveling clothes, he sent him home and, lighting a cigar, approached one of the windows that opened.

This side began the garden, consisting of narrow flower beds, flowering well decorated shrubs pruned carefully. At right, a weeping willow drooped its branches began to strip. A little further, an old well rose above the rim collapsed, his curious metalwork of the sixteenth century.

Ogier's attention was attracted by a female figure that appeared in one of the aisles. It was a girl - a very young girl, he would better reflected as she approached. Slender, not very big, dressed in black, she wore a soft appearance, harmonious, pressing against her flowers in various shades. Mr. Chancenay now distinguished the delicate oval face, thin white complexion, small purplish lips, brown hair wearing headbands, and waved to each side of the well modeled forehead ... Then he noticed the large dark eyelashes, eye rims, and thought, very interested: "I would see the eyes of this delicious creature! "

From the house at the time, a dog Newfoundland went out and ran towards the girl, barking happily.

A voice pure tone rose ...

- No, Liaou, no, my big, we do not play today.

But the dog did not hear well. He stood to support his paws on the shoulder of the girl. It took a sideways movement. At the same time, it lowered some flowers she held in her hands, and Ogier lives on his chest, suspended from a blue ribbon king, the same cross worn by Mrs. Bathilde Valromée.

He whispered:

- Hey! this is the third canoness, of course! ... Elys of Valromée ... She is beautiful, that one!

Downstairs, the girl called:

- Rosalie, pick Liaou, please! It will bring down my flowers!

The maid appeared, grabbed the dog by the collar and led him by saying:

- It's that Miss has spoiled, that ugly Liaou.

The pretty Canoness disappeared into the house, the garden fell silent ... Leaning on the window sill. Mr. Chancenay thought: "I hope we do not vow celibacy in that chapter, because it would be a crime, really ...!"

3

In the afternoon, Ogier made the acquaintance of Countess Antoinette Prexeuil.

She came to pray near the coffin of her friend, and Mr. Chancenay, who had given orders to prevent, went to greet her.

He found himself in front of an old and great and strong woman, whose face kept beauty marks. She also wore over her black dress, insignia chapter whose nieces and part ... Its cold and severe countenance does not soften a moment during her interview, also very short, with Ogier . She had a few words of praise and regret for Madame de Valheuil, inquired whether Mr. Chancenay approved the arrangements. Then she said:

- I'll stay a while about my poor friend. That night, my niece will ensure, along with Rosalie and Ms. DAMBRY, the mother of our pastor.

She handed the boy his fingers wrinkled, slightly deformed by rheumatism. But as he bowed to the touch of her lips, the canoness took them, an almost sudden movement.

- No, it's useless ... Do not give yourself that trouble ... because it's not nice to kiss an old woman's hand!.

The voice was brief, ironic secretly, and in the look that enveloped Mr. Chancenay one could discern a kind of hostility.

Ogier, who do not easily let disassemble, replied, with some height:

- I never thought of finding unpleasant this act of courtesy that was taught to me as a child, ma'am.

- Yes, I know, you are very great lord, like all those of your race ... as others ... which did not prevent them from being ...

She did not finish her sentence, and, tilting her head slightly to take leave of the young man, she returned to the living room.

Ogier thought: "The singular woman ... Not very nice, of course!. Age may have bothered him ideas ... It had to be well past, and it remains very great lady. The title of Canoness suits him, to that one. But his pretty niece, no, no! "

He walked into the library room where he had just received from Mrs. Antoinette Prexeuil, then whispered, smiling with a little mockery:

- Naturally, excellent canoness, I would find greater pleasure to kiss the lovely little hands that I interview this morning ... Hey! I have an idea that it should ensure as a dragon on the young woman, this aunt that!

Ogier was interrupted in his thoughts by Rosalie. She came to inform that the notary was there and wanted to speak to him.

Boudard me, little man with yellow complexion and suffering mine, heard Mr. Chancenay that the deceased bequeathed to his cousin, the Marquise Chancenay his house Pre-Blessed, furniture and some family jewels. Fortune - a hundred thousand francs - went to various works in the parish of Gouxy, the old servant Rosalie. At the end of the will, Madame de Valheuil had added: "I want my range of the eighteenth century, enclosed in my jewelry box, or gave my girlfriend dear Elys of Valromée, which has been the joy of my old age . "

When the notary had finished reading, Ogier said approvingly:

- Good, really good. You will arrange it by correspondence with my grandmother, is not it? I'm leaving tomorrow, because I am expected.

- Certainly, monsieur! Nothing easier !

The little man stared with awed reverence this elegant gentleman who had not even had the slightest sign of annoyance, hearing that the fortune of her relative went to foreigners ... that even approved of all, spontaneously ... Me Boudard, very interested, did not understand it. But he felt penetrated a devout consideration to the idea that this sum considerably in his eyes small provincial notary, appeared insignificant to Mr. Chancenay.

When the notary had gone, after respectful greetings, Ogier went wandering in the garden. He was bored and longed for day to catch the train. The death of this unknown parent left him indifferent. This trip, short stay at the Pre-Blessed, the day after the ceremony, all this was a chore which he would be very comfortable to be delivered. In addition, the bad weather was not to give him a favorable impression and make him forget the Dragonfly, the Italian sun, the tender eyes of Sari.

"If only the pretty little canoness was here," he thought, pacing the narrow alleys of the garden. "I want to know his eyes ... Maybe she will come tonight with his aunt? "

No, Mrs. Bathilde was only accompanied by a servant, when nine o'clock, she came to take his place in the room, for the wake.

This time she exchanged a few words with Ogier, but timidly, with a look of embarrassment or fear. Without being pretty, she had a pleasant face, well split, calm and gentle eyes, a slightly lower tone of voice which was not without charm. In his very old fashioned dress, she kept the same distinction that struck Mr. Chancenay, her aunt, to which, moreover, it was not like in the least.

Ogier remained in the living room until midnight and then went to her room. In the hall of the first floor, he met Rosalie who had a shawl looking for the mother of the priest. She stood aside respectfully wishing him good night. But the young man stopped in front of her, asking:

- She did not come today, to me it seems, Miss Valromée of Elys?

- Indeed, my lord.