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Upon one of those fine spring mornings； when the leaves； although
unfolded； are not yet green； when the sun begins to gild the roofs；
and the sky is blue； when the population of Paris issues from its
cells to swarm along the boulevards； glides like a serpent of a
thousand coils through the Rue de la Paix towards the Tuileries；
saluting the hymeneal magnificence which the country puts on； on one
of these joyous days； then； a young man as beautiful as the day
itself； dressed with taste； easy of mannerto let out the secret he
was a love…child； the natural son of Lord Dudley and the famous
Marquise de Vordacwas walking in the great avenue of the Tuileries。
This Adonis； by name Henri de Marsay； was born in France； when Lord
Dudley had just married the young lady； already Henri's mother； to an
old gentleman called M。 de Marsay。 This faded and almost extinguished
butterfly recognized the child as his own in consideration of the life
interest in a fund of a hundred thousand francs definitively assigned
to his putative son； a generosity which did not cost Lord Dudley too
dear。 French funds were worth at that time seventeen francs； fifty
centimes。 The old gentleman died without having ever known his wife。
Madame de Marsay subsequently married the Marquis de Vordac； but
before becoming a marquise she showed very little anxiety as to her
son and Lord Dudley。 To begin with； the declaration of war between
France and England had separated the two lovers； and fidelity at all
costs was not； and never will be； the fashion of Paris。 Then the
successes of the woman； elegant； pretty； universally adored； crushed
in the Parisienne the maternal sentiment。 Lord Dudley was no more
troubled about his offspring than was the mother；the speedy
infidelity of a young girl he had ardently loved gave him； perhaps； a
sort of aversion for all that issued from her。 Moreover； fathers can；
perhaps； only love the children with whom they are fully acquainted； a
social belief of the utmost importance for the peace of families；
which should be held by all the celibate； proving as it does that
paternity is a sentiment nourished artificially by woman； custom； and
the law。
Poor Henri de Marsay knew no other father than that one of the two who
was not compelled to be one。 The paternity of M。 de Marsay was
naturally most incomplete。 In the natural order； it is but for a few
fleeting instants that children have a father； and M。 de Marsay
imitated nature。 The worthy man would not have sold his name had he
been free from vices。 Thus he squandered without remorse in gambling
hells； and drank elsewhere； the few dividends which the National
Treasury paid to its bondholders。 Then he handed over the child to an
aged sister； a Demoiselle de Marsay； who took much care of him； and
provided him； out of the meagre sum allowed by her brother； with a
tutor； an abbe without a farthing； who took the measure of the youth's
future； and determined to pay himself out of the hundred thousand
livres for the care given to his pupil； for whom he conceived an
affection。 As chance had it； this tutor was a true priest； one of
those ecclesiastics cut out to become cardinals in France； or Borgias
beneath the tiara。 He taught the child in three years what he might
have learned at college in ten。 Then the great man； by name the Abbe
de Maronis； completed the education of his pupil by making him study
civilization under all its aspects： he nourished him on his
experience； led him little into churches； which at that time were
closed； introduced him sometimes behind the scenes of theatres； more
often into the houses of courtesans； he exhibited human emotions to
him one by one； taught him politics in the drawing…rooms； where they
simmered at the time； explained to him the machinery of government；
and endeavored out of attraction towards a fine nature； deserted； yet
rich in promise； virilely to replace a mother： is not the Church the
mother of orphans？ The pupil was responsive to so much care。 The
worthy priest died in 1812； a bishop； with the satisfaction of having
left in this world a child whose heart and mind were so well moulded
that he could outwit a man of forty。 Who would have expected to have
found a heart of bronze； a brain of steel； beneath external traits as
seductive as ever the old painters； those naive artists； had given to
the serpent in the terrestrial paradise？ Nor was that all。 In
addition； the good…natured prelate had procured for the child of his
choice certain acquaintances in the best Parisian society； which might
equal in value； in the young man's hand； another hundred thousand
invested livres。 In fine； this priest； vicious but politic； sceptical
yet learned； treacherous yet amiable； weak in appearance yet as
vigorous physically as intellectually； was so genuinely useful to his
pupil； so complacent to his vices； so fine a calculator of all kinds
of strength； so profound when it was needful to make some human
reckoning； so youthful at table； at Frascati； atI know not where；
that the grateful Henri de Marsay was hardly moved at aught in 1814；
except when he looked at the portrait of his beloved bishop； the only
personal possession which the prelate had been able to bequeath him
（admirable type of the men whose genius will preserve the Catholic；
Apostolic； and Roman Church； compromised for the moment by the
feebleness of its recruits and the decrepit age of its pontiffs； but
if the church likes！）。
The continental war prevented young De Marsay from knowing his real
father。 It is doubtful whether he was aware of his name。 A deserted
child； he was equally ignorant of Madame de Marsay。 Naturally； he had
little regret for his putative father。 As for Mademoiselle de Marsay；
his only mother； he built for her a handsome little monument in Pere
Lachaise when she died。 Monseigneur de Maronis had guaranteed to this
old lady one of the best places in the skies； so that when he saw her
die happy； Henri gave her some egotistical tears； he began to weep on
his own account。 Observing this grief； the abbe dried his pupil's
tears； bidding him observe that the good woman took her snuff most
offensively； and was becoming so ugly and deaf and tedious that he
ought to return thanks for her death。 The bishop had emancipated his
pupil in 1811。 Then； when the mother of M。 de Marsay remarried； the
priest chose； in a family council； one of those honest dullards；
picked out by him through the windows of his confessional； and charged
him with the administration of the fortune； the revenues of which he
was willing to apply to the needs of the community； but of which he
wished to preserve the capital。
Towards the end of 1814； then； Henri de Marsay had no sentiment of
obligation in the world； and was as free as an unmated bird。 Although
he had lived twenty…two years he appeared to be barely seventeen。 As a
rule the most fastidious of his rivals considered him to be the
prettiest youth in Paris。 From his father； Lord Dudley； he had derived
a pair of the most amorously deceiving blue eyes； from his mother the
bushiest of black hair； from both pure blood； the skin of a young
girl； a gentle and modest expression； a