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Page 51
FATHER AND STEP-DAUGHTER.
It was on one of the first days of June. Clotilde had left early in the
morning, fresh and radiant as the dawn. Two hours later, Lucan mounted his
horse and started at a walk. The roads are lovely in Normandy at this
season. The hawthorn hedges perfume the country, and sprinkle here and
there the edges of the road with their rosy snow. A profusion of fresh
verdure, dotted with wild flowers, covers the face of the ditches. All
that, under the gay morning sun, is a feast for the eyes. M. de Lucan,
however, greatly contrary to his custom, bestowed but very slight
attention upon the spectacle of that smiling nature. He was preoccupied,
to a degree that surprised himself, with his coming meeting with his
step-daughter. Julia had been such a besetting thought in his mind that he
had retained of her an exaggerated impression. He strove in vain to
restore her to her natural proportions, which were, after all, only those
of a child, formerly a naughty child, now a prodigal child. He had become
accustomed to invest her, in his imagination, with a mysterious importance
and a sort of fatal power, of which he found it difficult to strip her. He
laughed and felt irritated at his own weakness; but he experienced an
agitation mingled with curiosity and vague uneasiness, at the moment of
beholding face to face that sphinx whose shadow had so long disturbed his
life, and who now came in person to sit at his fireside.
An open barouche, decked with parasols, appeared at the summit of a hill;
Lucan saw a head leaning and a handkerchief waving outside the carriage;
he urged at once his horse to a gallop. Almost at the same instant the
carriage stopped, and a young woman jumped lightly upon the road; she
turned around to address a few words to her traveling-companions, and
advanced alone toward Lucan. Not wishing to be outdone in politeness, he
alighted also, handed his horse to the groom who followed him, and started
with cheerful alacrity in the direction of the young woman, whom he did
not recognize, but who was evidently Julia. She was coming toward him
without haste, with a sliding walk, rocking gently her flexible figure. As
she drew near, she threw off her vail with a rapid motion of her hand, and
Lucan was enabled to find again upon that youthful face, in those large
and slightly clouded eyes, and the pure and stretching arch of the
eyebrows, some features of the child he had known.
When Julia's glance met that of Lucan, her pale complexion became suffused
with a purple blush.
He bowed very low to her, and with a smile full of affectionate grace:
"Welcome!" he said.
"Thank you, sir," said Julia, in a voice whose grave and melodious suavity
struck Lucan; "friends, are we not?" And she held out both her hands to
him with charming resolution.
He drew her gently to himself to kiss her; but thinking that he felt a
slight resistance in the suddenly stiffening arms of his step-daughter, he
contented himself with kissing her wrist just above her glove. Then
affecting to look at her with a polite admiration, which, however, was
perfectly sincere:
"I really feel," he said, laughingly, "like asking you to whom I have the
honor of speaking."
"You find me grown?" she said, showing her dazzling teeth.
"Surprisingly so," said Lucan; "most surprisingly. I understand Pierre
perfectly now."
"Poor Pierre!" said Julia; "he is so fond of you. Don't let us keep him
waiting any longer, if you please."
They started in the direction of the carriage, in front of which Monsieur
de Moras was awaiting them, and while walking side by side:
"What a lovely country!" resumed Julia. "And the sea quite near?"
"Quite near."
"We'll take a ride on horseback after breakfast, will we not?"
"Quite willingly; but you must be horribly fatigued, my dear child. Excuse
me! my dear--? By the way, how do you wish me to call you?"
"Call me madam. I was such a bad child!"
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