the ways of men-第13章
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quired in a home game a knowledge of 〃bluff；〃 our friends plunge with delight into the fray； only to find English society so formed that； climb they never so wisely； the top can never be reached。 Work as hard as they may； succeed even beyond their fondest hopes； there will always remain circles above； toward which to yearn … people who will refuse to know them； houses they will never be invited to enter。 Think of the charm； the attraction such a civilization must have for the real born climber； and you； my reader； will understand why certain of our compatriots enjoy living in England； and why when once the intoxicating draught （supplied to the ambitious on the other side） has been tasted； all home concoctions prove insipid。
Chapter 10 … CALVE at Cabrieres
WHILE I was making a 〃cure〃 last year at Lamalou； an obscure Spa in the Cevennes Mountains； Madame Calve； to whom I had expressed a desire to see her picturesque home； telegraphed an invitation to pass the day with her； naming the train she could meet； which would allow for the long drive to her chateau before luncheon。 It is needless to say the invitation was accepted。 As my train drew up at the little station； Madame Calve； in her trap； was the first person I saw； and no time was lost in getting EN ROUTE。
During the hour passed on the poplar…bordered road that leads straight and white across the country I had time to appreciate the transformation in the woman at my side。 Was this gray… clad； nunlike figure the passionate； sensuous Carmen of Bizet's masterpiece？ Could that calm； pale face； crossed by innumerable lines of suffering； as a spider's web lies on a flower； blaze and pant with Sappho's guilty love？
Something of these thoughts must have appeared on my face； for turning with a smile； she asked； 〃You find me changed？ It's the air of my village。 Here I'm myself。 Everywhere else I'm different。 On the stage I am any part I may be playing； but am never really happy away from my hill there。〃 As she spoke； a sun…baked hamlet came in sight； huddled around the base of two tall towers that rose cool and gray in the noonday heat。
〃All that wing；〃 she added； 〃is arranged for the convalescent girls whom I have sent down to me from the Paris hospitals for a cure of fresh air and simple food。 Six years ago； just after I had bought this place； a series of operations became necessary which left me prostrated and anaemic。 No tonics were of benefit。 I grew weaker day by day； until the doctors began to despair of my life。 Finally； at the advice of an old woman here who passes for being something of a curer； I tried the experiment or lying five or six hours a day motionless in the sunlight。 It wasn't long before I felt life creeping back to my poor feeble body。 The hot sun of our magic south was a more subtle tonic than any drug。 When the cure was complete； I made up my mind that each summer the same chance should be offered to as many of my suffering sisters as this old place could be made to accommodate。〃
The bells on the shaggy Tarbes ponies she was driving along the Languedoc road drew； on nearing her residence； a number of peasant children from their play。
As the ruddy urchins ran shouting around our carriage wheels and scrambled in the dust for the sous we threw them； my hostess pointed laughing to a scrubby little girl with tomato… colored cheeks and tousled dark hair； remarking； 〃I looked like that twenty years ago and performed just those antics on this very road。 No punishment would keep me off the highway。 Those pennies； if I'm not mistaken； will all be spent at the village pastry cook's within an hour。〃
This was said with such a tender glance at the children that one realized the great artist was at home here； surrounded by the people she loved and understood。 True to the 〃homing〃 instinct of the French peasant； Madame Calve； when fortune came to her； bought and partially restored the rambling chateau which at sunset casts its shadow across the village of her birth。 Since that day every moment of freedom from professional labor and every penny of her large income are spent at Cabrieres； building； planning； even farming； when her health permits。
〃I think；〃 she continued； as we approached the chateau； 〃that the happiest day of my life … and I have； as you know； passed some hours worth living； both on and off the stage … was when； that wing completed； a Paris train brought the first occupants for my twenty little bedrooms； no words can tell the delight it gives me now to see the color coming back to my patients' pale lips and hear them laughing and singing about the place。 As I am always short of funds； the idea of abandoning this work is the only fear the future holds for me。〃
With the vivacity peculiar to her character； my companion then whipped up her cobs and turned the conversation into gayer channels。 Five minutes later we clattered over a drawbridge and drew up in a roomy courtyard； half blinding sunlight and half blue shadow； where a score of girls were occupied with books and sewing。
The luncheon bell was ringing as we ascended the terrace steps。 After a hurried five minutes for brushing and washing； we took our places at a long table set in the cool stone hall； guests stopping in the chateau occupying one end around the chatelaine； the convalescents filling the other seats。
Those who have only seen the capricious diva on the stage or in Parisian salons can form little idea of the proprietress of Cabrieres。 No shade of coquetry blurs the clear picture of her home life。 The capped and saboted peasant women who waited on us were not more simple in their ways。 Several times during the meal she left her seat to inquire after the comfort of some invalid girl or inspect the cooking in the adjacent kitchen。 These wanderings were not； however； allowed to disturb the conversation； which flowed on after the mellow French fashion； enlivened by much wit and gay badinage。 One of our hostess's anecdotes at her own expense was especially amusing。
〃When in Venice；〃 she told us； 〃most prima donnas are carried to and from the opera in sedan chairs to avoid the risk of colds from the draughty gondolas。 The last night of my initial season there； I was informed； as the curtain fell； that a number of Venetian nobles were planning to carry me in triumph to the hotel。 When I descended from my dressing…room the courtyard of the theatre was filled with men in dress clothes； bearing lanterns； who caught up the chair as soon as I was seated and carried it noisily across the city to the hotel。 Much moved by this unusual honor； I mounted to the balcony of my room； from which elevation I bowed my thanks； and threw all the flowers at hand to my escort。
〃Next morning the hotel proprietor appeared with my coffee； and after hesitating a moment； remarked： ‘Well； we made a success of it last night。 It has been telegraphed to all the capitals of Europe！ I hope you will not think a thousand francs too much； considering the advertisement！' In blank amazement； I asked what he meant。 ‘I mean the triumphal progress；' he answered。 ‘I thought you understood！ We always organize one for the 〃stars〃 who visit Venice。 The men who carried your chair last night were the waiters from the hotels。 We hire them on account of their dress clothes'！ Think of the disillusion；〃 added Calve； laughing； 〃and my disgust； when I thought of myself naively throwing kisses and flowers to a group of Swiss garcons at fifteen francs a head。 There was nothing to do； however； but pay the bill and swallow my chagrin！〃
How many pretty women do you suppose would tell such a joke upon themselves？ Another story she told us is characteristic of her peasant neighbors。
〃When I came back here after my first season in St。 Petersburg and London the CURE requested me to sing at our local fete。 I gladly consented； and； standing by his side on the steps of the MAIRIE； gave the great aria from the HUGUENOTS in my best manner。 To my astonishment the performance was received in complete silence。 ‘Poor Calve；' I heard an old friend of my mother'
