Serge Panine by Georges Ohnet
A PLEASANT UNDERSTANDING
The day following this memorable evening, Pierre left for Algeria,
notwithstanding the prayers of Madame Desvarennes who wished to keep him near
her. He was going to finish his labors. He promised to return in time for the
wedding. The mistress, wishing to give him some compensation, offered him the
management of the mills at Jouy, saying:
"So that if you are not my son, you will be at least my partner. And if I do
not leave you all my money at my death, I can enrich you during my life."
Pierre would not accept. He would not have it said that in wishing to marry
Micheline he had tried to make a speculation. He wished to leave that house
where he had hoped to spend his life, empty-handed, so that no one could doubt
that it was the woman he loved in Micheline and not the heiress. He had been
offered a splendid appointment in Savoy as manager of some mines; he would find
there at the same time profit and happiness, because there were interesting
scientific studies to be made in order to enable him to carry on the work
creditably. He resolved to throw himself heart and soul into the work and seek
forgetfulness in study.
In the mansion of the Rue Saint-Dominique the marriage preparations were
carried on with great despatch. On the one side the Prince, and on the other
Cayrol, were eager for the day: the one because he saw the realization of his
ambitious dreams, the other because he loved so madly. Serge, gracious and
attentive, allowed himself to be adored by Micheline, who was never weary of
listening to and looking at him whom she loved. It was a sort of delirium that
had taken possession of the young girl. Madame Desvarennes looked on the
metamorphosis in her child with amazement. The old Micheline, naturally indolent
and cold, just living with the indolence of an odalisque stretched on silk
cushions, had changed into a lively, loving sweetheart, with sparkling eyes and
cheerful lips. Like those lowers which the sun causes to bloom and be fragrant,
so Micheline under a look from Serge became animated and grown handsomer.
The mother looked on with bitterness; she spoke of this transformation in her
child with ironical disdain, She was sure Micheline was not in earnest; only a
doll was capable of falling in love so foolishly with a man for his personal
beauty. For to her mind the Prince was as regards mental power painfully
deficient. No sense, dumb as soon as the conversation took a serious turn, only
able to talk dress like a woman, or about horses like a jockey. And it was such
a person upon whom Micheline literally doted! The mistress felt humiliated; she
dared not say anything to her daughter, but she relieved herself in company of
Marechal, whose discretion she could trust, and whom she willingly called the
tomb of her secrets.
Marechal listened patiently to the confidences of Madame Desvarennes, and he
tried to fight against the growing animosity of the mistress toward her future
son-in-law. Not that he liked the Prince—he was too much on Pierre's side to be
well disposed toward Panine; but with his good sense he saw that Madame
Desvarennes would find it advantageous to overcome her feeling of dislike. And
when the mistress, so formidable toward everybody except her daughter, cried
"That Micheline! I have just seen her again in the garden, hanging on the arm
of that great lanky fellow, her eyes fixed on his like a lark fascinated by a
looking-glass. What on earth has happened to her that she should be in such a
Marechal interrupted her gently.
"All fair people are like that," he affirmed with ironical gayety. "You
cannot understand it, Madame; you are dark."
Then Madame Desvarennes became angry.
"Be quiet," she said, "you are stupid! She ought to have a shower-bath! She
As for Cayrol he lived in ecstasy, like an Italian kneeling before a madonna.
He had never been so happy; he was overwhelmed with joy. Until then, he had only
thought of business matters. To be rich was the aim of his life; and now he was
going to work for happiness. It was all pleasure for him. He was not blase; he
amused himself like a child, adorning the rooms which were to be occupied by
Jeanne. To his mind nothing was too expensive for the temple of his goddess, as
he said, with a loud laugh which lighted up his whole face. And when he spoke of
his love's future nest, he exclaimed, with a voluptuous shiver:
"It is charming; a veritable little paradise!" Then the financier shone
through all, and he added:
"And I know what it costs!"
But he did not grudge his money. He knew he would get the interest of it
back. On one subject he was anxious—Mademoiselle de Cernay's health. Since the
day of their engagement, Jeanne had become more serious and dull. She had grown
thin and her eyes were sunken as if she wept in secret. When he spoke of his
fears to Madame Desvarennes, the latter said:
"These young girls are so senseless. The notion of marriage puts them in such
an incomprehensible state! Look at my daughter. She chatters like a magpie and
skips about like a kid. She has two glow-worms under her eyelids! As to Jeanne,
that's another affair; she has the matrimonial melancholy, and has the air of a
young victim. Leave them alone; it will all come right. But you must admit that
the gayety of the one is at least as irritating as the languor of the other!"
Cayrol, somewhat reassured by this explanation, and thinking, like her, that
it was the uncertainties of marriage which were troubling Jeanne, no longer
attached any importance to her sad appearance. Micheline and Serge isolated
themselves completely. They fled to the garden as soon as any one ventured into
the drawing room, to interrupt their tete-a-tete. If visitors came to the garden
they took refuge in the conservatory.
This manoeuvre pleased Serge, because he always felt uncomfortable in
Jeanne's presence. Mademoiselle de Cernay had a peculiar wrinkle on her brow
whenever she saw Micheline passing before her hanging on the arm of the Prince,
which tormented him. They were obliged to meet at table in the evening, for
Serge and Cayrol dined at the Rue Saint-Dominique. The Prince talked in whispers
to Micheline, but every now and then he was obliged to speak to Jeanne. These
were painful moments to Serge. He was always in dread of some outburst, knowing
her ardent and passionate nature. Thus, before Jeanne, he made Micheline behave
in a less demonstrative manner. Mademoiselle Desvarennes was proud of this
reserve, and thought it was tact and good breeding on the part of the Prince,
without doubting that what she thought reserve in the man of the world was the
prudence of an anxious lover.
Jeanne endured the tortures of Hades. Too proud to say anything after the
explanation she had had with Serge, too much smitten to bear calmly the sight of
her rival's happiness, she saw draw near with deep horror the moment when she
would belong to the man whom she had determined to marry although she did not
love him. She once thought of breaking off the engagement; as she could not
belong to the man whom she adored, at least she could belong to herself. But the
thought of the struggle she would have to sustain with those who surrounded her,
stopped her. What would she do at Madame Desvarennes's? She would have to
witness the happiness of Micheline and Serge. She would rather leave the house.
With Cayrol at least she could go away; she would be free, and perhaps the
esteem which she would surely have for her husband would do instead of love.
Sisterly or filial love, in fact the least affection, would satisfy the poor
man, who was willing to accept anything from Jeanne. And she would not have that
group of Serge and Micheline before her eyes, always walking round the lawn and
disappearing arm in arm down the narrow walks. She would not have the continual
murmur of their love-making in her ears, a murmur broken by the sound of kisses
when they reached shady corners.
One evening, when Serge appeared in the little drawing-room of the Rue
Saint-Dominique, he found Madame Desvarennes alone. She looked serious, as if
same important business were pending. She stood before the fireplace; her hands
crossed behind her back like a man. Apparently, she had sought to be alone.
Cayrol, Jeanne, and Micheline were in the garden. Serge felt uneasy. He had a
presentiment of trouble. But determined to make the best of it, whatever it
might be, he looked pleasant and bowed to Madame Desvarennes, without his face
betraying his uneasiness.
"Good-day, Prince; you are early this evening, though not so early as Cayrol;
but then he does not quite know what he is doing now. Sit down, I want to talk
to you. You know that a young lady like Mademoiselle Desvarennes cannot get
married without her engagement being much talked about. Tongues have been very
busy, and pens too. I have heard a lot of scandal and have received heaps of
anonymous letters about you."
Serge gave a start of indignation.
"Don't be uneasy," continued the mistress. "I did not heed the tales, and I
burned the letters. Some said you were a dissolute man, capable of anything to
gain your object. Others insinuated that you were not a Prince, that you were
not a Pole, but the son of a Russian coachman and a little dressmaker of Les
Ternes; that you had lived at the expense of Mademoiselle Anna Monplaisir, the
star of the Varietes Theatre, and that you were bent on marrying to pay your
debts with my daughter's money."
Panine, pale as death, rose up and said, in a stifled voice:
"Sit down, my dear child," interrupted the mistress. "If I tell you these
things, it is because I have the proofs that they are untrue. Otherwise, I would
not have given myself the trouble to talk to you about them. I would have shown
you the door and there would have been an end of it. Certainly, you are not an
angel; but the peccadillos which you have been guilty of are those which one
forgives in a son, and which in a son-in-law makes some mothers smile. You are a
Prince, you are handsome, and you have been loved. You were then a bachelor; and
it was your own affair. But now, you are going to be, in about ten days, the
husband of my daughter, and it is necessary for us to make certain arrangements.
Therefore, I waited to see you, to speak of your wife, of yourself, and of me."
What Madame Desvarennes had just said relieved Serge of a great weight. He
felt so happy that he resolved to do everything in his power to please the
mother of his betrothed.
"Speak, Madame," he exclaimed. "I am listening to you with attention and
confidence. I am sure that from you I can only expect goodness and sense."
The mistress smiled.
"Oh, I know you have a gilt tongue, my handsome friend, but I don't pay
myself with words, and I, am not easy to be wheedled."
"Faith," said Serge, "I won't deceive you. I will try to please you with all
Madame Desvarennes's face brightened as suddenly at these words as a
landscape, wrapped in a fog, which is suddenly lighted up by the sun.
"Then we shall understand each other," she said. "For the last fortnight we
have been busy with marriage preparations, and have not been able to think or
reason. Everybody is rambling about here. Still, we are commencing a new life,
and I think it is as well to lay the foundation. I seem to be drawing up a
contract, eh? What can I do? It is an old business habit. I like to know how I
"I think it is quite right. I think, too, that you have acted with great
delicacy in not imposing your conditions upon me before giving your consent."
"Has that made you feel better disposed toward me? So much the better!" said
the mistress. "Because you know that I depend on my daughter, who will
henceforth depend on you, and it is to my interest that I should be in your good
In pronouncing these words with forced cheerfulness, Madame Desvarennes's
voice trembled slightly. She knew what an important game she was playing, and
wished to win it at any price.
"You see," continued she, "I am not an easy woman to deal with. I am a little
despotic, I know. I have been in the habit of commanding during the last
thirty-five years. Business was heavy, and required a strong will. I had it, and
the habit is formed. But this strong will, which has served me so well in
business will, I am afraid, with you, play me some trick. Those who have lived
with me a long time know that if I am hot-headed I have a good heart. They
submit to my tyranny; but you who are a newcomer, how will you like it?"
"I shall do as the others do," said Serge, simply. "I shall be led, and with
pleasure. Think that I have lived for years without kindred, without ties—at
random; and, believe me, any chain will be light and sweet which holds me to any
one or anything. And then," frankly added he, changing his tone and looking at
Madame Desvarennes with tenderness, "if I did not do everything to please you I
should be ungrateful."
"Oh!" cried Madame Desvarennes, "unfortunately that is not a reason."
"Would you have a better one?" said the young man, in his most charming
accent. "If I had not married your daughter for her own sake, I believe that I
should have married her for yours." Madame Desvarennes was quite pleased, and
shaking her finger threateningly at Serge, said:
"Ah, you Pole, you boaster of the North!"
"Seriously," continued Serge, "before I knew I was to be your son-in-law, I
thought you a matchless woman. Add to the admiration I had for your great
qualities the affection which your goodness has inspired, and you will
understand that I am both proud and happy to have such a mother as you."
Madame Desvarennes looked at Panine attentively; she saw he was sincere.
Then, taking courage, she touched the topic of greatest interest to her. "If
that is the case, you will have no objections to live with me?" She stopped;
then emphasized the words, "With me."
"But was not that understood?" asked Serge, gayly' "I thought so. You must
have seen that I have not been seeking a dwelling for my wife and myself. If you
had not made the offer to me, I should have asked you to let me stay with you."
Madame Desvarennes broke into such an outburst of joy that she astonished
Panine. It was then only that in that pallor, in that sudden trembling, in that
changed voice, he understood, the immensity of the mother's love for her
"I have everything to gain by that arrangement," continued he. "My wife will
be happy at not leaving you, and you will be pleased at my not having taken away
your daughter. You will both like me better, and that is all I wish."
"How good you are in deciding thus, and how I thank you for it," resumed
Madame Desvarennes. "I feared you would have ideas of independence."
"I should have been happy to sacrifice them to you, but I have not even that
All that Serge had said had been so open and plain, and expressed with such
sweetness that, little by little, Madame Desvarennes's prejudices disappeared.
He took possession of her as he had done of Micheline, and as he did of every
one whom he wished to conquer. His charm was irresistible. He seized on one by
the eyes and the ears. Naturally fascinating, moving, captivating, bold, he
always preserved his artless and tender ways, which made him resemble a young
"I am going to tell you how we shall manage," said the mistress. "Foreseeing
my daughter's marriage, I have had my house divided into two distinct
establishments. They say that life in common with a mother-in-law is
objectionable to a son-in-law, therefore I wish you to have a home of your own.
I know that an old face like mine frightens young lovers. I will come to you
when you invite me. But even when I am shut up in my own apartments I shall be
with my daughter; I shall breathe the same air; I shall hear her going and
coming, singing, laughing, and I shall say to myself, 'It is all right, she is
happy.' That is all I ask. A little corner, whence I can share her life."
Serge took her hand with effusion.
"Don't be afraid; your daughter will not leave you."
Madame Desvarennes, unable to contain her feelings, opened her arms, and
Serge fell on her breast, like a true son.
"Do you know, I am going to adore you!" cried Madame Desvarennes, showing
Panine a face beaming with happiness.
"I hope so," said the young man, gayly.
Madame Desvarennes became thoughtful.
"What a strange thing life is!" resumed she. "I did not want you for a
son-in-law, and now you are behaving so well toward me that I am full of
remorse. Oh, I see now what a dangerous man you are, if you captivate other
women's hearts as you have caught mine."
She looked at the Prince fixedly, and added, in her clear commanding voice,
with a shade of gayety:
"Now, I hope you will reserve all your powers of charming for my daughter. No
more flirting, eh? She loves you; she would be jealous, and you would get into
hot water with me! Let Micheline's life be happy, without a cloud-blue, always
"That will be easy," said Serge. "To be unhappy I should have to seek
misfortune; and I certainly shall not do that."
He began to laugh.
"Besides, your good friends who criticised so when you gave me Micheline's
hand would be only too pleased. I will not give them the pleasure of posing as
prophets and saying, 'We knew it would be so!'"
"You must forgive them," replied Madame Desvarennes. "You have made enemies.
Without speaking of projects which I had formed, I may say that my daughter has
had offers from the best folks in Paris; from first-rate firms! Our circle was
"People said: 'Oh, Madame Desvarennes wanted her daughter to be a Princess.
We shall see how it will turn out. Her son-in-law will spend her money and spurn
her.' The gossip of disappointed people. Give them the lie; manage that we shall
all live together, and we shall be right against the world."
"Do you hope it will be so?"
"I am sure of it," answered the mistress, affectionately pressing the hand of
her future son-in-law.
Micheline entered, anxious at the long interview between Serge and her
mother. She saw them hand in hand. She uttered a joyful cry, and threw her arms
caressingly round her mother's neck.
"Well! you are agreed?" she said, making a gracious sign to Serge.
"He has been charming," replied Madame Desvarennes, whispering in her
daughter's ear. "He agrees to live in this house, and that quite gracefully.
There, child, this is the happiest moment I've had since your engagement. I
admit that I regret nothing."
Then, resuming aloud:
"We will leave to-morrow for Cernay, where the marriage shall take place. I
shall have to order the workmen in here to get ready for your reception. Besides
the wedding will be more brilliant in the country. We shall have all the
work-people there. We will throw the park open to the countryside; it will be a
grand fete. For we are lords of the manor there," added she, with pride.
"You are right, mamma; it will be far better," exclaimed Micheline. And
taking Serge by the hand:
"Come, let us go," said she, and led him into the garden.
And amid the sweet-smelling shrubs they resumed their walk, always the same
yet ever new, their arms twined round each other, the young girl clinging to him
whom she loved, and he looking fondly at her, and with caressing voice telling
her the oft-told tale of love which she was never tired of hearing, and which
always filled her with thrills of joy.