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Usually the first experience is so weakening for a young man that he would want to fall asleep in the arms of his loved one. But here Julia drew the line. Reluctantly Pedro left her bed, after having made her promise him to teach him all there was to know in the art of love. They kissed tenderly, and Pedro went to his own quarters to spend the rest of the night. During the three months they stayed at La Bidouze, Julia taught Pedro all she had learned about love. She also made it plain that in the final analysis, the goal of theory is the exercise of practice. She did not spoil the boy. On the contrary, she never failed to point out the disastrous results of licentiousness, intemperance and debauchery. She also warned him against the unnatural practices with members of his own sex which might cause him to waver between man and woman forever, and did not fail to tell him that a clean whore was, if the necessity truly arose, infinitely better than masturbation. The fantasies which he might create in his mind, while playing with himself, could never be approached by reality. She warned him that no fate was worse than the loneliness of the masturbator.

She combined the good care of a mother with those of a practiced teacher and she succeeded in moving the strings of the boy's heart so that she was sure of a beautiful melody of love within it.

The day arrived and Pedro had to leave for the University. Madame de Corriero had a long, last talk with the boy who had wanted to become her lover, and whom she wanted to be her son. She talked to him about his future, warned him against the dangers of excess and told him not to return till he had his degree.

Pedro protested, but he knew that the tiny body of his Mama hid a will of iron. As soon as she had said, “I want it,” he knew that he could only obey.

Three years went by, and Pedro left the University with his doctorate. Madame de Corriero was at La Bidouze, and he counted the hours as the train crawled through the countryside. When he arrived late that night, leaping up the stairs, she did not answer his knocking, and the door to her bedroom was securely bolted. The next morning Julia explained to him, as tenderly as possible that the things which then were a necessity, would today have been positively nasty.

“Youth belongs to youth, my boy,” she said. “I hope that you will always remember your Mama with love and tenderness. I have punished a little brat with the rod, I have made a man out of an adolescent. And that is the end of my role. I hope that you will save your love for one whose heart will beat your rhythm. The future, happiness and love… my dear son, there goes the very embodiment…” and she pointed at Claire who slowly walked toward them.

Pedro's protestations were very feeble indeed. Claire, who looked like a brilliant spring morning, made the beautiful image he held of Julia in his mind fade quickly.

And so it happened that Julia's wish came true. Her two foster children fell in love, and they needed no help from her. It did Julia's heart incredible good when she saw the tender love bloom between these two beautiful young people.

Before she left La Bidouze, she was happy to see Pedro and Claire get married. She settled a large tract of land in their names, which included a marble quarry. With his mining degree Pedro would undoubtedly know how to extract the riches out of his mountains.

“I believe that I have made two people very happy,” Madame de Corriero said to herself when she returned to Paris.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Florentine, too, was beginning to notice the raw edges of life.

She still had her affair with Maxim de Berny, but her health was suffering and it seemed as if she was getting worse by the week.

She was about to become thirty years old, and a crisis was quickly approaching.

Her doctor deemed it necessary to tell Julia about her sister's condition. A marriage was an absolute necessity.

“Unless she becomes a mother again, I cannot be responsible for what might happen. She is on the verge of a complete nervous breakdown.”

“And do you believe that motherhood…”

“Maybe not the motherhood itself, but the attempts,” the doctor said, “can be very useful.”

Dorothy put it slightly differently when she remarked, “I have been trying to tell Madame Vaudrez that she needed a good fuck instead of that eternal muffdiving. One of these days she will go absolutely crazy.”

The women decided to get Florentine out of Paris, if necessary by stealth, and to force her to break her relationship with Maxim de Berny. Florentine only stuck to him out of habit. She knew that the young man was whoring around in Paris, but she did not want to admit it.

One day, Julia simply took her sister on a long trip. They went to La Bidouze, and Florentine was enchanted with the old castle, the beautiful surroundings, and especially with Pedro and Claire who had joined them for a happy family reunion. The little Cherub, Florentine's son, was delighted with his big, strong uncle.

Meanwhile, Dorothy had informed de Berny about Florentine's situation and, in her mistress' name, she asked him to give Florentine her liberty. The Count willingly complied, and Florentine received a tender letter, asking her to give Maxim his freedom.

It seemed as if a load had fallen from Florentine's heart. Soon, the widow Vaudrez was her old, happy self again. The color had returned to her cheeks, and though matured by ten years, she matched her sister in beauty.

The summer went by without any adventures worth noting. As a matter of fact, it had become somewhat monotonous. The sisters decided to spend a few weeks on the Riveria before they returned to Paris for the season.

High society from all over Europe gathered annually in St. Jean-de-Luz. The entire world seemed to have made this little town their rendezvous.

One day the two ladies and the little Cherub were strolling through the town, when a voice suddenly exclaimed, “Madame Vaudrez!”

Florentine turned around, “Cherub! Darling!” Then she caught herself and blushed, “Your Highness!”

Gordon, Duke of Herisey, laughed. He looked at Florentine with tenderness in his eyes, and it was obvious that he liked very much what he saw.

“What an extraordinary coincidence! Have you been here long?”

“Only a few days. Permit me to introduce my son, Cherub.”

“Our son Cherub,” Julia said mischievously.

“A beautiful name, Madame. He looks indeed, like a little angel!” And the Duke lifted the little boy high above his head, kissing him upon the forehead when he set him down gently.

“And where have you been all these years?”

Florentine asked.

“In Japan. As you know, my mother always wanted me to travel for at least ten years before I decided to settle down. I am sure that she wanted to keep me out of the clutches of the Parisian ladies. But now I have had enough of traveling, and I am going to settle down as a good solid citizen. I intend to live in Paris.”

“I hope we shall see each other from time to time.”

“Every day, unless you decide to throw me out!” Gordon smiled. “And now, my dearest lady, allow me to spoil little Gordon a little bit,” he looked Florentine straight in the eyes.

“But, please only a little bit. He is spoiled enough as it is, already.”

“He must have inherited that from his father,” the duke answered laughingly.

“And this?” Julia asked, ruffling her hands through the boy's golden burls.

“Those he has from his mother,” Florentine said.

They continued their stroll, meeting Gordon de Herisey at the appointed place. The little boy was even more enthusiastic about his new “uncle” than he had been about young Pedro.

“Ladies,” Gordon said, “I must take leave for the moment. A very good friend of mine is in town, and I promised to meet him at three o'clock. With your permission, I would be honored to present him to you.”

“How amusing to meet a good old friend after so many, many years,” Julia said. “So this gentleman was your famous Cherub?”