Thecircus-proprietor was a big, burly man, not destitute of a roughgeniality. There was a hard look in his eyes, a dogged squareness ofthe jaw that suggested a latent brutality.
On the whole, however, he was a welcome relief from her formertorturers, who had never thrown a kind word to her from the day of herbirth. Sometimes he was generous, sometimes he was brutal, as the moodtook him. Often he swore at her till she trembled in every limb.Occasionally, in his cups, he beat her. But he was always sorry thenext day, and did his best to make amends. In short, he was a ruffianwith a certain amount of decent feeling, and an uncertain temperament.
She stayed with him till she was seventeen. She might have stayed withhim for ever, had not a sudden severance been put to their relations, bythe man's sudden death, brought about prematurely by his constantindulgence in alcohol.
Valerie could never recall the years that succeeded without a shudder.The circus was broken up, she was left helpless and friendless.
It was during those terrible years that the iron entered her soul, whenshe experienced the keen, cruel suffering of the really poor, when shewent to bed night after night, cold and hungry, after tramping thestreets in vain for work.
A weaker spirit would have succumbed to the temptation that was alwaysat hand, for she was a very attractive girl. But she was resolved, withher indomitable grit, to keep herself pure. She turned awaydisdainfully from the leering old men, the callous young ones whoaccosted her as she paced the streets in her restless tramp for anhonest living. Better the river than that!
After many vicissitudes, she came to anchor at last. She was then abouttwenty-two. She was very clever at educating herself. She had taughtherself to sing, she had taught herself to play the piano, she hadtaught herself to dance.
She got an engagement at one of the minor halls in Paris to do a turnwhich combined singing and dancing. She was very pretty and attractive.In a small way she made a name. At the end of three months the managertrebled her salary.
To this minor music hall came one night the rich financier, a somewhatshady one, if the truth must be told, Monsieur Varenne, a man of aboutfifty-five who had never married.
He was greatly attracted by this elegant young girl. Her voice wassmall, her dancing was nothing great. But there was an indefinablecharm about her that appealed to his somewhat jaded senses.
He obtained an introduction through the manager, who was only tooanxious to oblige such a well-known personage. He invited her tosupper. She accepted the invitation graciously, but coldly. Hercoldness inflamed him the more.
When they met, he was surprised at her cleverness, the correctness withwhich she expressed herself. This was certainly no ordinary girl of themusic halls.
"Tell me something about yourself, my dear," he said, as they sat overtheir coffee. "I did not expect to find you such a charming companion."
Valerie smiled a little bitterly. "I have not very much to tell. Iexpect my lot has been like that of many thousands in this delightfulworld. I am a child of the gutter. My father and mother beat andstarved me, and sold me for a paltry sum to the proprietor of atravelling circus. It wasn't exactly a rosy life then, but it wasparadise to where I had been. He died; I was thrown on my beam ends. Ican't tell you what I have been through for the last few years. Icouldn't bear to talk of it--I have suffered everything that the poorhave to suffer in such profusion--cold, hunger, the most absolutemisery. And, at last," she looked round at the luxurious appointmentsof the restaurant a little disdainfully, "I find myself in receipt of adecent salary, and the guest of a rich man who has pressed upon me everydainty. And I have so often wanted a meal!"
Varenne was a very kindly man, in spite of his somewhat sharp ways inbusiness. Those last few pathetic words had gone straight to his heart.She had often wanted a meal, and she was a most attractive girl! Manywould have called her beautiful.
"It is a sad history, my poor child," he said sympathetically. Hepaused a moment before he put the delicate question. "And during thoseterrible years, when you suffered hunger and privation, you keptyourself straight? It would have been so easy to go wrong, so excusableunder the circumstances."
"Of course," she answered, and there was a note of wounded pride, ofindignation, in her voice. "I am not that sort of woman--better theriver than that. I might give myself to a man out of love or gratitude,but never merely for money."
It was a new experience for the wealthy financier. Here was a girl whohad just stepped off the platform of a music hall, where she was, nodoubt, earning a very modest salary, who had grit and backbone in her,and, moreover, a proper pride and self-respect.
He had, of course, with the easy confidence of a man of the world,imagined the usual termination to such an adventure. But he recognisedat once that he could not make any proposition of the kind he meditated.He pressed her hand tenderly at parting, and arranged a furthermeeting.
They met several times, and Varenne went through agonies of indecision.But the attraction was too strong, and at last he asked her to marryhim. It was that or losing her altogether.
And did it matter much? His world would laugh at him as a matter ofcourse, say he had got into his dotage. And a girl who was young enoughto be his daughter! There is no fool like an old fool, he told himselfrather ruefully.
But she had so subjugated him that he was quite a humble wooer in spiteof the enormous advantages he was offering her.
"Of course I am an old man, I cannot expect you to have any realaffection for me," he said.
She met his glance quite frankly. "I have never been in love withanybody; my life has been too hard to permit me to indulge in the softeremotions. But I like you very much. I have always hated rich men; theythink they can buy anything with their gold. You are a rich man, Iknow, you have told me so yourself, but you have a kind nature and agood heart."
"And can you overlook the disparity of years?" he questioned, still veryhumble.
"I am twenty-two, but I don't think I am very young; I am old inexperience and bitterness. Well, if you care to risk the experiment, Iwill be your wife. I will do my best to make you happy."
They were married. And this marriage was the turning point in Valerie'slife. If everything had gone smoothly, she might have forgotten thosebitter experiences, outlived her still more bitter rancour against theprosperous and well-to-do.
Unfortunately the friends of Monsieur Varenne would not forgive him forthis false step, so unpardonable in a man of his intelligence andposition. He was a fool, that was clear, but they were not going toabet him in his mad folly. Their doors were shut against his wife, thiscreature of the music halls, to whom he was going to leave his fortune.
After this bitter experience, the iron entered even deeper into hersoul. Her husband was kindness and tenderness itself. In his devotionto his young wife, he paid no attention to the fact that he had cuthimself off from his old friends, his old social life.
He was ready to comply with her slightest wish. He showered on her themost costly gifts, his purse was absolutely at her disposal. She hadeverything that wealth could give, except the one thing she craved, tomix on equal terms with these people who despised her.
When the kindly old man died, she mourned him sincerely. If she hadnever loved him, in the true sense of the word, she had felt for him avery warm and grateful affection. On his death-bed, she had falteredforth a few words of self-reproach, had blamed herself for takingadvantage of his generosity, for not having sufficiently counted thecost to himself.
On this point he had reassured her. "I have been very happy, my dear,happier than I ever expected to be. I would not have anything changed."
She came into that considerable fortune which was of so little use toher. During her few years of married life she had educated herself intoa woman of considerable accomplishments, for she had a very quick andacute intelligence.
Her socialist proclivities were now fully developed, after the scurvytreatment at the hands of her husband's
friends. The circles wherethese doctrines were preached readily opened their doors to anattractive and enthusiastic young woman, whose wealth would be veryuseful for propaganda. She was more than the equal of these purse-proudparvenus, who would not accept her acquaintance, in intellect andbehaviour. She felt it bitterly.
Very soon she came under the influence of Contraras, who was possessedof great personal magnetism. His reasoned arguments, his fieryeloquence, quickly led her a step further--from socialism to anarchy.In a very short space she became one of the leading spirits of thebrotherhood. As the old regime would not receive her, she would do herbest to overthrow it, and assert the doctrine of absolute equality.
Contraras came frequently to the Grand Hotel de la Paix to visit hisyoung colleague. He had very charming manners, this elderly enthusiast,and Valerie liked him very much, apart from his principles. He was oneof the few rich men she had ever known, her late husband