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From that moment they had met only for a moment and in the presence of witnesses. In the mornings the mother would be with her daughter, would take her to her house and keep her there under some pretext.
Bruhl's duty was only to satisfy all his wife's fancies, which he already willingly performed; for the rest they lived as strangers, meeting only when obliged, and getting as little in each other's way as possible. Bruhl was patient and polite. Sometimes he would meet his wife's inquisitive glance which she withdrew as soon as he noticed it.
Frances changed a great deal: she grew still bolder and more fanciful, she learned how to command her household, and required that her will should be obeyed in the twinkling of an eye: sometimes she was unnaturally merry, sometimes mercilessly ironical, sometimes coquettish with strangers, so much so as even to arouse jealousy in such an indifferent husband as Bruhl seemed to be; she grew more beautiful every day. Although he was in love with the Countess Moszynski and although it was suspected that he had relations with Abbuzzi, being yet a young man he could not be indifferent to his wife's charms, which seemed to mock his pa.s.sionate looks.
When they entered the dressing room Frau Bruhl withdrew her arm and, going to the dressing table, put down her gloves. She expected that her husband would leave her and was surprised to see him standing between a table and a chair.
Her look seemed to say: 'You are still here?' Bruhl's enigmatical smile seemed to answer: 'Yes, madam, I am waiting.'
'Have you anything to tell me?' asked she.
'Will you not permit me to sit down and rest, and look on your beauty?'
Frances turned and laughed, shrugging her white shoulders; then she turned again towards the mirror not without a certain coquettish movement, which Bruhl noticed.
'Will you not agree that my position is a very peculiar one?'
'Mine is also peculiar; but neither you nor I need be surprised at that.'
'You made me hope, that sometimes--you might have a fancy even for your husband.'
'Yes! It may be that I said that, I do not remember,' she answered carelessly, 'but it is certain that I have not that fancy yet. Go and play cards with Moszynski or amuse yourself with Abbuzzi, and let me alone. You worry me.'
'I ask you only for a moment's conversation.'
'Let us talk then but about something else.'
'About the King?' said Bruhl.
'I do not know if that will be permitted,' answered Frances laughing.
'Between ourselves--we have no sentiments, only a common interest.'
'You are right; then?'
'How is the King disposed towards Sulkowski?' asked Bruhl.
There was a long silence. Could one have seen within the woman's heart, one would have noticed that the question hurt her. She knew that this man did not care much for her, and because of some strange caprice she wanted to please him, in order to enjoy tormenting him. An indifferent question hurt her but she did not betray it.
'Ah!' she exclaimed. 'You wish me to be sincere? Sulkowski, you and even the King, you worry me horribly! What do I care about your ambitions and your quarrels? I wish to enjoy life! The King is a doll without life!'
'For G.o.d's sake!' exclaimed Bruhl, wringing his hands.
'n.o.body is listening to us,' said she indifferently. 'You told me to amuse myself with the doll, or rather you gave me to understand that he might play with me, but you can't expect me to be in love with him.
You know the King best. Good-looking, kind, incapable of anything doubtful, pa.s.sionate without sentiment, attached without courage to show it, pious and superst.i.tious, lascivious, timid, thoughtless, tiresome--dreadfully so.'
'Madam,' Bruhl cried, 'were all that true you should not say it, and I should not listen to it.'
'Then let us yawn,' the woman answered and she opened her mouth: then she threw herself on the sofa as if she were tired, her head hanging down, her arms fallen along her body; in that melancholy and coquettish position she was charming. Bruhl looked and sighed.
'You asked me about Sulkowski,' said Frances slowly. The minister nodded.
'Who can guess what that doll the King thinks? Has he a heart? Is he capable of love? Can he love anybody sufficiently to become attached?
He is fond of Sulkowski as he is of his two fools, I know nothing more.'
'But if we are to rule, I through you,' said Bruhl, 'we must get rid of him.'
'And send him to Konigstein as you did Watzdorf?' the woman rejoined frowning.
The name fell as a stone between them; the minister grew confused.
'I give you my word, that it was not I, but Sulkowski, who sent Watzdorf to Konigstein.'
'The word of a diplomatist?'
'No, of an honest man,' said Bruhl, putting his hand on his breast.
'You could not say that I got rid of him on account of jealousy. Till now I have had no right to be jealous--'
'What do you mean by till now? Do you expect to have the right?'
'It seems to me,' said Bruhl gallantly, 'if not today then to-morrow you may tire of this, who knows? Perchance you might deign to look at your servant.'
'It seems to me that you will have to wait a long time for that,' the woman whispered.
'I shall be patient,' said Bruhl.
'_Croyez et buvez de l'eau_,' rejoined the woman.
Bruhl s.h.i.+vered but said coolly:
'You ought to help me to overthrow Sulkowski.'
'Yes, mother told me the same, implying that he might introduce Adelaida Stein or some other woman to the King. What do I care for that?'
'But are you not fond of diamonds, dresses, luxury, high living?' Bruhl asked.
They looked into each other's eyes.
'Very well then,' she said, 'we shall overthrow Sulkowski, it will be a revenge for Watzdorf; it will be a distraction. We shall overthrow that boaster.'
'But you must act carefully, slowly, you must--'
He wanted to explain to her at length, when Frances rose, as if lacking in patience.
'You think I need some instruction?' she said laughing. 'And what am I a woman for? You think it necessary to teach me cunning, how to pour the poison by drops, how to whisper traitorous words? How to answer suspicions with a double-meaning word? Ah! my dear sir, I was brought up at court. I looked at you ministers, my mother was my teacher, who, while still in the cradle, taught me how to lie, how to love falsehood!'
And she laughed strangely, almost desperately.