An Ambitious Man

At sixteen, Berene was asked to sacrifice herself on the altar of

marriage to a man three times her age; one Jacques Letellier, who

offered generously to take the young girl as payment for a debt owed

by his convivial comrade, M. Dumont. Berene wept and begged

piteously to be spared this horrible sacrifice of her young life,

whereupon Pierre Dumont seized his razor and threatened suicide as

the other alternative from the dishonour of debt, and Berene in

terror yielded her word and herself the next day to the debasing

mockery of marriage with a depraved old gambler and roue.

Six months later Jacques Letellier died in a fit of apoplexy and

Berene was freed from her chains; but freed only to keep on in a life

of martyrdom as servant and slave to the caprices of her father,

until his death. When he was finally well buried under six feet of

earth, Berene found herself twenty years of age, alone in the world

with just one thousand dollars in money, the price brought by her

father's effects.

Without education or accomplishments, she was the possessor of youth,

health, charm, and a voice of wonderful beauty and power; a voice

which it was her dream to cultivate, and use as a means of support.

But how could she ever cultivate it? The thousand dollars in her

possession was, she knew, but a drop in the ocean of expense a

musical education would entail. And she must keep that money until

she found some way by which to support herself.

Baroness Brown had attended the sale of old Dumont's effects. She

had often noticed the young girl in the shop, and in the street, and

had been struck with the peculiar elegance and refinement of her

appearance. Her simple lawn or print gowns were made and worn in a

manner befitting a princess. Her nails were carefully kept, despite

all the household drudgery which devolved upon her.

The Baroness was a shrewd woman and a clever reasoner. She needed a

thrifty, prudent person in her house to look after things, and to

attend to her personal needs. Since she had opened the Palace as a

lodging-house, this need had stared her in the face. Servants did

very well in their places, but the person she required was of another

and superior order, and only to be obtained by accident or by

advertising and the paying of a large salary. Now the Baroness had

been in the habit of thinking that her beauty and amiability were

quite equivalent to any favours she received from humanity at large.

Ever since she was a plump girl in short dresses, she had learned

that smiles and compliments from her lips would purchase her friends

of both sexes, who would do disagreeable duties for her. She had

never made it a custom to pay out money for any service she could

obtain otherwise. So now as she looked on this young woman who,

though a widow, seemed still a mere child, it occurred to her that

Fate had with its usual kindness thrown in her path the very person

she needed.