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PDF of Maths Mpsi Mp2I 6E Ed Tout en Un 6Th Edition Maxime Bourrigan Full Chapter Ebook
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Claude Deschamps | François Moulin | Yoann Gentric
Maxime Bourrigan | Emmanuel Delsinne | François Lussier
Chloé Mullaert | Serge Nicolas | Jean Nougayrède
Claire Tête | Michel Volcker
MATHS
MPSI MP2I
TOUT-EN-UN
6e édition
Couverture : création Hokus Pokus, adaptation Studio Dunod
© Dunod, 2021
11 rue Paul Bert, 92240 Malakoff
www.dunod.com
ISBN 978-2-10-083369-6
Table des matières
Avant-propos xiii
I Ensembles de nombres . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2
II Comparaison des réels . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2
III Le cas particulier des entiers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
Chapitre 1. Logique et raisonnement 7
I Ensembles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32
II Applications . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38
III Relations binaires . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
Démonstrations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52
Exercices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54
Table des matières
I Inégalités dans IR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66
II Fonctions réelles de la variable réelle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72
III Dérivation – Rappels du secondaire . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80
IV Variations d’une fonction sur un intervalle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86
Démonstrations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93
Exercices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95
Chapitre 4. Calculs algébriques et trigonométrie 101
I Symboles et . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 102
II Coefficients binomiaux, formule du binôme . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116
III Petits systèmes linéaires, méthode du pivot . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119
IV Trigonométrie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 124
Démonstrations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 136
Exercices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 141
Chapitre 5. Nombres complexes 157
I Primitives . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 250
II Recherche de primitives et calcul d’intégrales . . . . . . . . . . . . . 259
Démonstrations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263
Exercices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 264
Chapitre 8. Équations différentielles linéaires 275
vi
Table des matières
I Dérivée . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 422
II Théorèmes de Rolle et des accroissements finis . . . . . . . . . . . . 428
III Fonctions de classe C k . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 437
IV Extension aux fonctions à valeurs complexes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 444
Démonstrations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 448
Exercices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 454
Chapitre 12. Fonctions convexes 467
I Fonctions convexes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 468
II Convexité et dérivabilité . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 473
Démonstrations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475
Exercices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 480
Chapitre 13. Intégration 491
I Intégrale des fonctions en escalier . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 492
II Intégrale des fonctions continues par morceaux . . . . . . . . . . . . 497
III Intégration et dérivation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 504
IV Formules de Taylor globales . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 505
Démonstrations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 507
Exercices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 516
vii
Table des matières
I Généralités . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 554
II Opérations sur les développements limités . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 564
III Applications des développements limités . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 578
IV Développements asymptotiques . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 582
Démonstrations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 588
Exercices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 592
Chapitre 16. Séries numériques 609
Partie IV : Algèbre
Chapitre 17. Arithmétique dans ZZ 641
viii
Table des matières
I Matrices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 702
II Systèmes linéaires . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 711
III Anneau des matrices carrées . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 714
Démonstrations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 726
Exercices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 732
Chapitre 20. Polynômes 739
ix
Table des matières
x
Table des matières
Partie V : Probabilités
Chapitre 29. Probabilités — Variables aléatoires 1081
I Univers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1082
II Espaces probabilisés . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1087
III Loi d’une variable aléatoire . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1090
IV Couples de variables aléatoires . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1094
Démonstrations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1098
Exercices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1101
Chapitre 30. Conditionnement — Indépendance 1115
Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1259
xi
Avant-propos
Ce nouveau Tout-en-un de mathématiques vient répondre aux attentes des nou-
veaux programmes entrés en vigueur en première année de classes préparatoires en
septembre 2021. Il reprend l’ambition des précédentes éditions : faire tenir, en un seul
volume, cours complet et exercices corrigés.
Lors de l’élaboration de cet ouvrage, l’équipe d’auteurs ne s’est pas contentée d’adap-
ter l’ancien livre au nouveau programme, mais a repensé chaque chapitre en profon-
deur, dans un souci permanent de clarté et de concision.
Il nous tient à cœur de préciser quelques éléments clés de la structure du livre :
• Plutôt que de faire figurer systématiquement, à la suite de l’énoncé d’une pro-
position ou d’un théorème, sa démonstration entièrement rédigée, nous préférons
parfois donner un principe de démonstration (la démonstration complète étant
alors reléguée en fin de chapitre). L’objectif est double :
∗ rendre l’exposé du cours plus concis et plus facile à lire lorsque l’étudiant ne
souhaite pas s’attarder sur les démonstrations ;
∗ l’étudiant, ayant à sa disposition un principe de démonstration, peut soit (en
cas de première lecture) tenter de réfléchir par lui-même à la manière d’élaborer
la preuve complète, soit (en cas de lecture ultérieure) se souvenir rapidement
de cette preuve.
• Chaque chapitre se conclut par une série d’exercices permettant à l’étudiant de
s’entraîner. Chacun de ces exercices est entièrement corrigé.
∗ Certains de ces exercices ont pour mission de faire appliquer de manière ciblée
un théorème ou une méthode ; sous le numéro de l’exercice est alors indiqué le
numéro de la page du cours associée. Inversement, ces exercices sont signalés
dans la marge, à l’endroit concerné du cours.
S’il n’est pas totalement indispensable de traiter ces exercices lors d’une pre-
mière lecture du cours, leur lien étroit avec celui-ci les rend particulièrement
intéressants pour assimiler les nouvelles notions et méthodes.
∗ L’étudiant trouvera également des exercices d’entraînement un peu plus ambi-
tieux, demandant plus de réflexion. Certains, plus difficiles, sont étoilés.
Bien entendu nous sommes à l’écoute de toute remarque dont les étudiants, nos col-
lègues, tout lecteur. . . pourraient nous faire part (à l’adresse électronique ci-dessous).
Cela nous permettra, le cas échéant, de corriger certaines erreurs nous ayant échappé
et surtout ce contact nous guidera pour une meilleure exploitation des choix pédago-
giques que nous avons faits aujourd’hui dans cet ouvrage.
hŶĞŝŶƚƌŽĚƵĐƚŝŽŶƉƌĠƐĞŶƚĞůĞƐƵũĞƚƚƌĂŝƚĠ͘
>ĞƐĞŶĐĂĚƌĠƐĐŽƌƌĞƐƉŽŶĚĞŶƚƐŽŝƚăĚĞƐƚŚĠŽƌğŵĞƐ͕ƉƌŽƉŽƐŝƚŝŽŶƐŽƵĐŽƌŽůůĂŝƌĞƐ͕
ƋƵŝƉĂƌƚĂŐĞŶƚůĞŵġŵĞƐLJƐƚğŵĞĚĞŶƵŵĠƌŽƚĂƚŝŽŶ͕ƐŽŝƚăĚĞƐĚĠĨŝŶŝƚŝŽŶƐ͕ƋƵŝŽŶƚůĞƵƌƉƌŽƉƌĞ
ŶƵŵĠƌŽƚĂƚŝŽŶ͘
>ĂĚĠŵŽŶƐƚƌĂƚŝŽŶde chaque résultat encadré, lorsqu’elle ne suit pas directement celuiͲĐŝ͕ĞƐƚ
ŝŶĚŝƋƵĠĞƉĂƌƵŶƌĞŶǀŽŝ͘
>ĞƐƉŽŝŶƚƐĚĞŵĠƚŚŽĚĞĂƉƉĂƌĂŝƐƐĞŶƚƐƵƌĨŽŶĚŐƌŝƐĠ͘
>ĞƐƉŽŝŶƚƐĂƵdžƋƵĞůƐŝůĨĂƵƚĨĂŝƌĞƉĂƌƚŝĐƵůŝğƌĞŵĞŶƚĂƚƚĞŶƚŝŽŶ
ƐŽŶƚƐŝŐŶĂůĠƐƉĂƌƵŶĨŝůĞƚǀĞƌƚŝĐĂůƐƵƌůĂŐĂƵĐŚĞ͘
ĞƐƌĞŶǀŽŝƐǀĞƌƐĚĞƐĞdžĞƌĐŝĐĞƐƉĞƵǀĞŶƚĂƉƉĂƌĂŠƚƌĞĞŶŵĂƌŐĞĂƵƐĞŝŶĚƵĐŽƵƌƐ͘
>ĞƐĞdžĞŵƉůĞƐƐŽŶƚƌĞƉĠƌĠƐƉĂƌĚĞƵdžĐŽŝŶƐ͘
ĞƐĞdžĞƌĐŝĐĞƐƐŽŶƚƉƌŽƉŽƐĠƐĞŶĨŝŶĚĞĐŚĂƉŝƚƌĞ͕ĂǀĞĐĠǀĞŶƚƵĞůůĞŵĞŶƚƵŶƌĂƉƉĞůĚƵŶƵŵĠƌŽ
ĚĞůĂƉĂŐĞĚĞĐŽƵƌƐŽƶƐĞƚƌŽƵǀĞůĂŶŽƚŝŽŶĚŽŶƚl’exercice ĞƐƚƵŶĞĂƉƉůŝĐĂƚŝŽŶ͘
ĞƌƚĂŝŶƐĞdžĞƌĐŝĐĞƐďĠŶĠĨŝĐŝĞŶƚĚΖŝŶĚŝĐĂƚŝŽŶƐ͕
ĞƚůĞƐƉůƵƐĚŝĨĨŝĐŝůĞƐƐŽŶƚĠƚŽŝůĠƐ͘
dŽƵƐůĞƐĞdžĞƌĐŝĐĞƐƐŽŶƚĞŶƚŝğƌĞŵĞŶƚĐŽƌƌŝŐĠƐ͘
Chapitre 0 : Vocabulaire, notations
I Ensembles de nombres . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2
II Comparaison des réels . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2
III Le cas particulier des entiers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
Vocabulaire, notations 0
I Ensembles de nombres
Parmi les nombres que nous utilisons, nous pouvons distinguer les catégories suivantes.
Les entiers naturels : 0 , 1 , 2 , . . . .
L’ensemble des entiers naturels est noté IN.
Les entiers relatifs : il s’agit des entiers naturels et de leurs opposés.
L’ensemble des entiers relatifs est noté ZZ.
k
Les décimaux : il s’agit des nombres de la forme 10n avec k ∈ ZZ et n ∈ IN.
L’ensemble des nombres décimaux est noté D.
I
p
Les rationnels : ce sont les quotients d’entiers q avec p ∈ ZZ et q ∈ IN∗ .
L’ensemble des nombres rationnels est noté Q.
Les réels : nous supposons connu l’ensemble IR des nombres réels, ainsi que ses
opérations usuelles + , − , × et / .
Nous étudierons les principales propriétés de IR aux chapitres 3 et 9.
158
Les complexes : nous étudierons au chapitre 5 l’ensemble C des nombres com-
plexes, c’est-à-dire l’ensemble des nombres qui s’écrivent a + ib , avec (a, b) ∈ IR2 ,
où i est un nombre (non réel !) dont le carré vaut −1 .
I ∗ , Q∗ , IR∗ et C∗ .
Ces ensembles privés de 0 sont respectivement notés IN∗ , ZZ∗ , D
Intervalles de IR
Soit a et b deux réels tels que a b . On note 1 :
[a, b] = {x ∈ IR : a x b} [a, +∞[ = {x ∈ IR : a x}
[a, b[ = {x ∈ IR : a x < b} ]−∞, b] = {x ∈ IR : x b}
]a, b] = {x ∈ IR : a < x b} ]a, +∞[ = {x ∈ IR : a < x}
]a, b[ = {x ∈ IR : a < x < b} ]−∞, b[ = {x ∈ IR : x < b}
Ces ensembles, ainsi que IR = ]−∞, +∞[, sont appelés intervalles de IR.
Remarques
• L’ensemble IR est aussi appelé la droite réelle ou droite numérique.
• L’ensemble vide est un intervalle puisque, par exemple, ∅ = ]2, 2[.
• Les quatre intervalles de la colonne de droite sont appelés demi-droites.
• Dans chacun des cas précédents, le réel a (respectivement b ) est appelé extrémité
inférieure (respectivement extrémité supérieure) de l’intervalle.
Si I est la demi-droite [a, +∞[ ou la demi-droite ]a, +∞[ , alors +∞ est l’extré-
mité supérieure de I .
De même, −∞ est l’extrémité inférieure des demi-droites ]−∞, b] et ]−∞, b[ .
Si I = IR, alors ses extrémités sont −∞ et +∞.
• Si a b , l’intervalle [a, b] est appelé segment [a, b].
3
Chapitre 0. Vocabulaire, notations
Partie entière
Définition 1
La partie entière d’un réel x est le plus grand entier relatif n tel que n x. On
le note ⌊x⌋.
Remarque On peut parfois rencontrer la notation ⌈x⌉ qui désigne le plus petit
entier relatif n tel que x n, appelé aussi partie entière supérieure.
• Pour x ∈ ZZ, on a naturellement ⌈x⌉ = x = ⌊x⌋.
• Sinon, on a ⌊x⌋ < x < ⌈x⌉ et ⌈x⌉ = ⌊x⌋ + 1 .
4
III Le cas particulier des entiers
Remarques
• Pour a et b entiers relatifs, on a :
[[a, b]] = [a, b] ∩ ZZ, [[a, +∞[[= [a, +∞[ ∩ ZZ et ]]−∞, b]] = ]−∞, b] ∩ ZZ.
• On n’a pas donné de notation pour des intervalles ouverts d’entiers, car, par
exemple, pour a et b entiers, on a :
{n ∈ ZZ : a < n b} = [[a + 1, b]].
• Lorsque a > b , l’intervalle [[a, b]] est vide. Ainsi, par exemple, pour n ∈ IN,
l’intervalle [[1, n]] est vide si, et seulement si, n = 0 .
5
Chapitre 1 : Logique et raisonnement
Ex. 3. L’assertion « n est premier » est une assertion dont la véracité dépend de n .
Remarque Pour souligner la dépendance en n de cette assertion, on peut la noter P (n) .
2 Connecteurs
Définition 1
Soit P et Q deux assertions. On appelle :
• négation de P, et l’on note non P, toute assertion qui est vraie lorsque P est
fausse et fausse sinon ;
• conjonction de P et Q, et l’on note P et Q, toute assertion qui est vraie lorsque
les assertions P, Q sont toutes les deux vraies, et fausse sinon ;
• disjonction de P et Q, et l’on note P ou Q, toute assertion qui est vraie lors-
qu’au moins l’une des deux assertions P, Q est vraie, et fausse sinon ;
• équivalence entre P et Q , et l’on note P ⇔ Q, toute assertion qui est vraie
lorsque les assertions P , Q sont toutes les deux vraies ou toutes les deux fausses,
et fausse sinon ;
• implication de Q par P , et l’on note P ⇒ Q, toute assertion qui est fausse
lorsque P est vraie et Q est fausse, et vraie dans tous les autres cas.
Notation Dans le texte de ce chapitre nous noterons les trois premiers connecteurs
« non », « et », « ou », pour les distinguer de ceux du langage courant, mais dans
les chapitres suivants nous utiliserons les graphismes classiques « non », « et », « ou ».
Attention Le connecteur ou n’est pas exclusif comme il l’est parfois dans le langage
courant (dans la locution « fromage ou dessert » par exemple).
Remarques
• Lorsque l’on a P ⇔ Q, on dit que les assertions P et Q sont équivalentes.
• Lorsque l’on a P ⇒ Q, on dit que P implique Q .
• Par abus on dit « la » négation de P ; bien qu’une assertion puisse avoir plusieurs
négations, toutes ces négations sont équivalentes. Par exemple, si x est un réel,
alors la négation de « x = 0 » peut s’écrire « x �= 0 », mais aussi « x2 > 0 ».
9
Chapitre 1. Logique et raisonnement
Proposition 1
Soit P, Q et R trois assertions.
• Les assertions P et (Q ou R) et (P et Q) ou (P et R) sont équivalentes.
Exo
1.1 • Les assertions P ou (Q et R) et (P ou Q) et (P ou R) sont équivalentes.
10
I Assertions et modes de raisonnement
Remarques
• L’assertion P ⇒ Q peut donc être vraie même lorsque Q est fausse. Cela peut
paraître bizarre à première vue, surtout si l’on a la mauvaise habitude d’utiliser
ce symbole « ⇒ » comme une abréviation pour un « donc ».
Attention
• Ne jamais utiliser le symbole ⇒ comme abréviation d’un « donc ».
• Écrire « On a P ⇒ Q » ne prétend pas que P est vraie, mais que si P est vraie,
alors Q aussi.
Autre formulations Soit P et Q deux assertions.
• Au lieu de dire « on a P ⇒ Q », on peut dire indifféremment :
∗ pour que Q soit vraie, il suffit que P le soit ;
∗ pour que P soit vraie, il faut que Q le soit ;
∗ P est une condition suffisante pour que Q soit vraie ;
∗ Q est une condition nécessaire pour que P soit vraie.
• Au lieu de dire « on a P ⇔ Q », on peut dire indifféremment :
∗ P est vraie si et seulement si Q l’est ;
∗ pour que Q soit vraie, il faut et il suffit que P le soit ;
∗ P est une condition nécessaire et suffisante pour que Q soit vraie.
11
Chapitre 1. Logique et raisonnement
3 Modes de raisonnement
Raisonnement par contraposée
Définition 2
Soit P et Q deux assertions. L’assertion non Q ⇒ non P est appelée la contra-
posée de l’implication P ⇒ Q.
12
I Assertions et modes de raisonnement
2 q 2 = p2 .
Par suite, l’entier p2 est pair et il en est donc de même de p . On peut ainsi trouver un entier k
tel que p = 2 k . En remplaçant dans l’égalité 2 q 2 = p2 , on obtient 2 q 2 = 4 k2 et donc :
q 2 = 2 k2
ce qui prouve que q 2 est pair. On en déduit que q est pair, ce qui contredit le fait que p et q
ne sont pas tous les deux pairs.
√
L’hypothèse de départ est donc fausse, ce qui montre que 2 est irrationnel.
13
Chapitre 1. Logique et raisonnement
II Quantificateurs
Les notions d’ensemble et d’élément sont ici considérées comme des notions pre-
mières ; un ensemble correspond intuitivement à une « collection d’objets » qui sont
les « éléments » de cet ensemble. Cette notion sera détaillée au chapitre suivant.
Si a est un élément et E un ensemble :
• l’assertion a ∈ E , qui se lit « a appartient à E » ou « E contient a », est vraie
si a est un élément de E , et fausse dans le cas contraire ;
• lorsque a n’est pas élément de E , on écrit a �∈ E .
On admet qu’il existe un ensemble, appelé ensemble vide et noté ∅ , qui ne contient
aucun élément.
1 Quantificateurs universel et existentiel
Définition 3
Soit P (x) une assertion dépendant d’une variable x appartenant à un ensemble E .
• On note « ∀x ∈ E P (x) » l’assertion qui est vraie si, pour tout élément x
de E , l’assertion P (x) est vraie.
• On note « ∃x ∈ E P (x) » l’assertion qui est vraie s’il existe un élément x
appartenant à E tel que l’assertion P (x) soit vraie.
• On note « ∃ ! x ∈ E P (x) » l’assertion qui est vraie s’il existe un unique élé-
ment x appartenant à E tel que l’assertion P (x) soit vraie.
Remarques
• L’assertion « ∀x ∈ E P (x) » se lit « pour tout x dans E , on a P (x) ».
• L’assertion « ∃x ∈ E P (x) » se lit « il existe x dans E tel que P (x) soit vraie ».
• L’assertion « ∃ ! x ∈ E P (x) » se lit « il existe un unique x dans E tel que P (x)
soit vraie » et est équivalente à :
∃x ∈ E P (x) et ∀y ∈ E P (y) ⇒ y = x .
14
II Quantificateurs
Attention
• Malgré les apparences, l’assertion « ∀x ∈ E P (x) » ne dépend pas de x.
La lettre x figurant dans cette assertion a le statut de variable muette.
En effet cette assertion peut aussi être écrite : « ∀y ∈ E P (y) », ou en-
core « ∀z ∈ E P (z) », sans en modifier le sens et peut d’ailleurs être énoncée
sans la moindre lettre x, y ou z : « tous les éléments de E vérifient P ».
• Il en est de même des assertions « ∃x ∈ E P (x) » et « ∃ ! x ∈ E P (x) ».
Méthodes et rédaction
Pour démontrer une assertion du type : ∀x ∈ E P (x)
La façon la plus élémentaire de procéder est de fixer un élément x quelconque dans E
puis de démontrer que P (x) est vraie.
La rédaction est alors : « Soit x ∈ E . Montrons P (x) ».
Ex. 23. Soit f la fonction de IR dans IR définie par : f (x) = x2 + x + 1 .
Démontrons que : ∀x ∈ IR f (x) > 0 .
Soit x ∈ IR . Montrons que f (x) > 0 . On a :
2
1 3
f (x) = x + + ,
2 4
et donc f (x) 3
4
> 0 . D’où le résultat.
15
Chapitre 1. Logique et raisonnement
Remarque Dans le cas particulier où E = IN, pour prouver une assertion du type :
∀n ∈ IN P (n),
on peut évidemment penser à utiliser une démonstration par récurrence. Ce type de
raisonnement est détaillé à la fin de ce chapitre.
Ex. 24. Soit f la fonction de IR dans IR définie par f (x) = x2 + x + 1 . Pour démontrer
l’assertion ∃x ∈ IR f (x) > 2 , il suffit de constater qu’en prenant x = 1 , on a f (x) = 3 > 2 .
Ex. 25. Montrons qu’il existe un rationnel x tel que 3x3 + 4x2 + 4x + 1 = 0 .
Analyse (formellement non nécessaire, mais permettant de cerner les solutions éventuelles).
Soit x un tel rationnel que l’on écrit sous forme de fraction irréductible x = pq ·
En multipliant par q 3 la relation 3x3 + 4x2 + 4x + 1 = 0 , on obtient 3p3 + 4p2 q + 4pq 2 + q 3 ,
ce qui peut s’écrire :
p(3p2 + 4pq + 4q 2 ) = −q 3 et 3p3 = −q(4p2 + 4pq + q 2 ).
p
Le caractère irréductible de la fraction q
et le fait que p divise q 3 et q divise 3p3 nous laissent
penser que p = ±1 et q = ±1 ou q = ±3 (ce que l’on pourrait montrer rigoureusement à
l’aide des résultats du chapitre 17 d’arithmétique). D’autre part, il est clair qu’un tel x est
nécessairement négatif. Il ne reste donc plus que deux candidats −1 et − 13 ·
Synthèse. Il est facile de voir que −1 n’est pas solution (malheureusement, c’était le premier
qu’on avait envie d’essayer !) et un calcul rapide montre que − 31 convient.
Bien entendu, cette toute dernière vérification suffirait pour obtenir le résultat souhaité, la partie
d’analyse pouvant rester au brouillon.
Exo
• Pour la partie existence, si l’on n’a pas de candidat évident, on peut toujours
1.3 faire une analyse-synthèse dans laquelle, la plupart du temps, la partie « analyse »
permettra d’identifier un unique candidat et donc de montrer l’unicité.
Ex. 26. Soit a , b , c et d quatre réels tels que a �= b .
Montrons qu’il existe une unique fonction affine f de IR dans IR telle que f (a) = c et f (b) = d .
Analyse. Supposons que f soit une fonction affine telle que f (a) = c et f (b) = d . Il existe
alors deux réels α et β tels que : ∀x ∈ IR f (x) = α(x − a) + β .
16
II Quantificateurs
17
Chapitre 1. Logique et raisonnement
Montrons que a = b .
• L’assertion ∃n ∈ IN a = b n est vraie. Prenons donc n1 ∈ IN tel que a = b n1 .
• On peut, de même, prendre n2 ∈ IN tel que b = a n2 .
On en déduit immédiatement a = a n2 n1 . Raisonnons maintenant par disjonction de cas.
• Si a = 0 , alors la relation b = a n2 donne b = 0 , et donc a = b .
• Sinon, on peut alors simplifier a = a n2 n1 par a , ce qui donne 1 = n2 n1 . Comme n1 et n2
sont entiers naturels, on en déduit n1 = n2 = 1 , et donc a = b .
Dans les deux cas, on a a = b .
Remarque L’hypothèse (∗) ci-dessus nous dit qu’il existe un entier n tel que a = b n et qu’il
existe un entier n tel que b = a n , mais rien ne dit qu’il s’agit du même entier. La variable n
figurant dans (∗) est muette, et (∗) aurait pu aussi s’écrire :
(∃n1 ∈ IN a = b n1 ) et (∃n2 ∈ IN b = a n2 ).
Plus généralement, si P (x) est une assertion dépendant d’une variable x ∈ E , alors :
• la négation de « ∀x ∈ E P (x) » est « ∃x ∈ E non P (x) » ;
• la négation de « ∃x ∈ E P (x) » est « ∀x ∈ E non P (x) ».
18
II Quantificateurs
Ex. 33. La négation de ∀x ∈ E A(x) ⇔ B(x) est :
∃x ∈ E A(x) et non B(x) ou B(x) et non A(x) .
Ex. 34. Soit x un réel positif tel que ∀ε > 0 x ε . Montrons que x = 0 .
x
Raisonnons par l’absurde : supposons x > 0 . En prenant ε = (qui est un réel strictement
2
x
positif), on obtient, en utilisant l’hypothèse, x , ce qui donne x 0 et contredit le fait
2
que x soit strictement positif. D’où le résultat.
mais leurs réciproques ne sont pas forcément vraies ; elles sont par exemple fausses si
l’on prend E = IR, avec P (x) : « x 0 » et Q(x) : « x > 0 ».
Succession de quantificateurs
Lorsqu’une assertion dépend de plusieurs variables, on peut quantifier successivement
chacune de ces variables.
Ex. 35. Soit f une fonction de IR dans IR .
L’assertion f (x) f (a) dépend des deux variables réelles a et x .
• Soit a un réel donné.
∗ Pour exprimer « f présente un minimum en a », on écrit :
∀x ∈ IR f (x) f (a).
∃a ∈ IR ∀x ∈ IR f (x) f (a).
• Pour exprimer « f ne possède pas de minimum », on peut dire en français « il n’existe aucun
point où f présente un minimum » ou encore « en a , réel quelconque, f ne présente pas de
minimum », ce qui s’écrit :
19
Chapitre 1. Logique et raisonnement
Remarques
• L’assertion « ∀x ∈ IR f (x) f (a) », où l’on a quantifié x (i.e. on a fait pré-
céder x d’un quantificateur), nous donne une assertion de la seule variable a,
exprimant que « f présente un minimum en a ».
Exo
1.5 • L’assertion « ∃a ∈ IR ∀x ∈ IR f (x) f (a) » utilise une succession de deux
Exo
quantificateurs (ce qui a rendu muettes les deux variables x et a) et exprime le
1.6 fait que « f possède un minimum ».
Ex. 36. L’assertion « tout entier naturel est le carré d’un entier naturel » s’écrit :
∀n ∈ IN ∃p ∈ IN n = p2 .
Inversion de quantificateurs
Soit P (x, y) une assertion dépendant de deux variables x ∈ E et y ∈ F . On a les
équivalences suivantes :
• ∀x ∈ E ∀y ∈ F P (x, y) ⇐⇒ ∀y ∈ F ∀x ∈ E P (x, y) ;
• ∃x ∈ E ∃y ∈ F P (x, y) ⇐⇒ ∃y ∈ F ∃x ∈ E P (x, y) .
On dit que deux quantificateurs ∀ successifs commutent et que deux quantificateurs ∃
successifs commutent.
Ex. 37.
• L’assertion « ∃x ∈ IR ∀y ∈ IR y = x + 1 » est fausse. En effet, s’il existait un réel x0 tel
que ∀y ∈ IR y = x0 + 1 , on aurait en particulier 0 = x0 + 1 et 1 = x0 + 1 , ce qui est
absurde.
• En revanche, l’assertion « ∀y ∈ IR ∃x ∈ IR y = x + 1 » est vraie car pour tout réel y , le
réel x = y − 1 vérifie y = x + 1 .
20
III Récurrence
III Récurrence
• Les nombres entiers naturels, et leur ensemble IN, sont à la base de toutes les ma-
thématiques, la première activité mathématique des humains ayant certainement
été de compter. C’est pourquoi la plupart des propriétés de IN paraissent natu-
relles et n’ont, jusqu’à une période relativement récente, soulevé aucune question,
même parmi les plus grands mathématiciens.
• Il a fallu attendre le XIX e siècle pour que le problème de la construction de IN
soit abordé. Une construction rigoureuse de l’ensemble des entiers sort du cadre
de ce cours et nous ferons comme le mathématicien Kronecker qui disait : « Dieu
nous a donné les entiers et l’homme a fait le reste ».
Nous admettons en particulier la propriété suivante :
Proposition 2
Toute partie non vide de IN possède un plus petit élément.
Démonstration.
Raisonnons par l’absurde en supposant que P ne soit pas vérifiée sur tout IN .
L’ensemble A des entiers n pour lesquels P (n) est fausse est alors une partie non vide de IN ,
qui admet donc un plus petit élément n0 .
• Comme P (0) est vraie, on a 0 ∈ / A et donc n0 > 0 , i.e. n0 − 1 ∈ IN .
• L’entier n0 − 1 n’appartient donc pas à A , ce qui prouve que P (n0 − 1) est vraie. La
relation (∗) entraîne alors que P (n0 ) est vraie et contredit donc l’appartenance de n0 à A .
L’hypothèse que P n’est pas vérifiée sur tout IN est donc absurde.
Attention Ne pas oublier, dans une démonstration par récurrence, de vérifier l’ini-
tialisation. À titre d’exemple, en oubliant de vérifier P (0), on peut « montrer » que
tous les entiers naturels sont égaux, puisque la propriété P (n) : « n = n + 1 » vérifie :
∀n ∈ IN P (n) ⇒ P (n + 1).
21
Chapitre 1. Logique et raisonnement
n(n + 1)
Montrons que, pour tout n ∈ IN , on a un = ; notons P (n) cette propriété au rang n .
2
0(0 + 1)
Initialisation. Comme = 0 = u0 , la propriété P (0) est vraie.
2
Hérédité. Soit n ∈ IN∗ tel que P (n − 1) soit vraie. Montrons P (n) . On a, en utilisant le fait
que P (n − 1) est vraie :
(n − 1)n n(n + 1)
un = un−1 + n = +n= ,
2 2
ce qui montre P (n) et termine la récurrence.
L’objet de ce qui suit est de présenter quelques variantes du raisonnement par récur-
rence.
Récurrence à partir d’un certain rang
Corollaire 4
Soit n0 un entier et P une propriété définie sur [[n0 , +∞[[. Si P (n0 ) est vraie et si :
∀n n0 P (n) ⇒ P (n + 1),
alors la propriété P (n) est vraie pour tout entier n n0 .
22
III Récurrence
2 Récurrence double
Il arrive parfois que la justification de P (n) nécessite l’utilisation de P (n − 1) et
de P (n − 2). On fait alors ce que l’on appelle une récurrence double, ou encore
récurrence d’ordre 2, fondée sur le résultat suivant.
Corollaire 5 (Récurrence double)
Soit P une propriété définie sur IN. Si P (0) et P (1) sont vraies et si :
∀n ∈ IN P (n) et P (n + 1) ⇒ P (n + 2),
Exo
1.7 alors la propriété P (n) est vraie pour tout n ∈ IN.
n 0 1 2 3 4 5 6
un 2 3 5 9 17 33 65
Attention Dans le cas d’utilisation d’une récurrence double, ne surtout pas oublier
de procéder à la double initialisation P (0) et P (1).
23
Chapitre 1. Logique et raisonnement
3 Récurrence forte
Il arrive parfois que la justification de P (n) nécessite l’utilisation de toutes les pro-
priétés P (k) pour k ∈ [[0, n − 1]]. On fait alors une récurrence forte.
Démonstration. On montre, par une récurrence simple à partir du rang 1 que la propriété :
H(n) : « ∀k ∈ [[0, n]] P (k) »
est vraie pour tout n ∈ IN∗ .
Remarque Comme l’illustre l’exemple suivant, on peut bien sûr faire une récurrence
forte à partir d’un certain rang.
Ex. 42. Démontrons que tout entier naturel supérieur ou égal à 2 possède (au moins) un diviseur
premier. Pour tout n 2 , posons P (n) : « n possède un diviseur premier ».
Montrons par récurrence forte que P (n) est vraie pour tout entier n 2 .
Ex. 43. Soit u une suite réelle telle que : ∀n ∈ IN (n+1)un+1 = u0 +u1 +· · ·+un . Montrons
que u est constante.
Posons P (n) : « un = u0 » , et montrons par récurrence forte que P (n) est vraie pour
tout n ∈ IN .
Initialisation. L’assertion P (0) est trivialement vraie.
Hérédité. Soit n ∈ IN . Supposons P (0), . . . , P (n) vraies, et montrons P (n + 1) . On a, en
utilisant P (1), . . . , P (n) :
(n + 1)un+1 = u0 + u1 + · · · + un = u0 + u0 + · · · + u0 = (n + 1)u0
(n+1) termes
24
III Récurrence
4 Récurrences finies
Corollaire 7 (Récurrence finie)
Soit r ∈ IN et P une propriété définie sur [[0, r]] . Si P (0) est vraie et si :
∀n ∈ [[0, r − 1]] P (n) ⇒ P (n + 1),
Exo
1.9 alors P (n) est vraie pour tout n ∈ [[0, r]] .
Remarque Comme l’illustrent les deux exemples suivants, on peut combiner le prin-
cipe de récurrence finie avec celui de récurrence double/forte/à partir d’un certain
rang.
25
Chapitre 1. Logique et raisonnement
S’entraîner et approfondir
Assertions, logique
1.1 Soit A , B et C trois points du plan formant un triangle T .
→10
1. Écrire une assertion, portant sur les longueurs AB , BC et AC , exprimant que T est
un triangle équilatéral.
2. En déduire une assertion exprimant que T n’est pas équilatéral.
3. Comment exprimer que T n’est pas isocèle ?
n(n + 1)
1.2 Soit n un entier relatif. Prouver que est un entier.
→12 2
1.3 Soit f une application de IR dans IR . Montrer qu’il existe un unique couple (f1 , f2 ) tel que
→16
l’on ait f = f1 + f2 avec f1 une fonction impaire et f2 une fonction paire de IR dans IR .
La fonction f1 est appelée la partie impaire de f et f2 sa partie paire.
Récurrence
1.7 Soit (un )n∈IN une suite vérifiant :
→23
Montrer qu’il existe un unique couple (a, b) de réels tel que ∀n ∈ IN un = (an + b) 2n .
26
Solutions des exercices
Pour exprimer que T n’est pas isocèle, on nie la relation précédente, ce qui donne :
27
Chapitre 1. Logique et raisonnement
1.4 1. L’assertion « ∀x ∈ IR g(x) 0 ou g(x) 0 » affirme que, pour tout nombre réel x ,
le nombre réel g(x) est positif ou négatif, ce qui est vrai. Ainsi, toutes les fonctions g
de IR dans IR vérifient la propriété étudiée.
2. L’assertion « (∀x ∈ IR g(x) 0) ou (∀x ∈ IR g(x) 0) » signifie que g est positive
ou que g est négative. Les fonctions cherchées sont donc celles qui ne changent pas de
signe.
1.5 1. • L’assertion (i) est vraie : pour chaque élément x choisi dans E , l’élément y = x
vérifie bien x y .
• L’assertion (ii) est vraie : en effet, l’élément y = 5 est bien tel que, pour tout
élément x de E , on ait x y . Elle exprime que E admet un plus grand élément.
• L’assertion (iii) est fausse : en effet, pour l’élément x = 5 , on ne peut pas trouver
d’élément y de E vérifiant 5 < y .
On pourrait aussi, en utilisant un raisonnement similaire à celui du point précédent,
dire que sa négation « ∃x ∈ E ∀y ∈ E x y » est vraie.
• L’assertion (iv) est fausse : en effet, l’élément y = 1 de E ne vérifie évidemment
pas ∀x ∈ E x y .
On pourrait aussi dire que sa négation « ∃y ∈ E ∃x ∈ E x > y » est vraie en
prenant par exemple x = 2 et y = 1 .
2. Avec E = IR .
• L’assertion (i) reste vraie (même justification qu’à la question précédente).
• L’assertion (ii) est fausse car IR n’admet pas de plus grand élément.
• L’assertion (iii) est vraie car, si x est un nombre réel quelconque, alors le réel y = x+1
vérifie x < y .
• L’assertion (iv) est fausse (même justification qu’à la question précédente).
∀x ∈ IR f (x) M.
2. La fonction f est majorée si l’on peut trouver un réel M qui la majore, ce qui s’écrit :
∃M ∈ IR ∀x ∈ IR f (x) M.
∀M ∈ IR ∃x ∈ IR f (x) > M,
28
Solutions des exercices
1.8 Pour tout n 2 , on pose P (n) : « n est un produit de nombres premiers ». Procédons par
récurrence forte pour montrer que P (n) est vraie pour tout n 2 .
Initialisation. La propriété P (2) est vraie, puisque 2 est premier.
Hérédité. Soit n 3 . Supposons P (2), . . . , P (n − 1) vraies et montrons P (n) . Raisonnons
par disjonction de cas.
• Si n est premier, alors n est le produit d’un seul nombre premier : lui-même.
• Si n n’est pas premier, il possède donc un diviseur d compris entre 2 et n − 1 . On a
n n
alors n = d× . Comme d et sont des entiers compris entre 2 et n−1 , l’hypothèse
d d
de récurrence assure que ce sont des produits de nombres premiers ; par conséquent, n
aussi.
Cela montre P (n) et achève la récurrence.
k
1 k k2
1.9 Posons P (k) : « 1 + 1+ + 2 » . Montrons par récurrence finie que P (k) est
n n n
vraie pour tout k ∈ [[1, n]] .
1 1 1
Initialisation. L’assertion P (1) est vraie car 1 + 1 + + 2·
n n n
Hérédité. Soit k ∈ [[2, n]] . Supposons P (k − 1) et montrons P (k) . Écrivons :
k k−1
1 1 1
1+ = 1+ 1+ .
n n n
1
En utilisant P (k − 1) , et puisque 1 + 0 , on a :
n
k (k − 1)2
1 1 k−1
1+ 1+ 1+ +
n n n n2
k k − 1 + (k − 1)2 (k − 1)2
=1+ + 2
+ ·
n n n3
Pour prouver P (k) , il s’agit alors de prouver que :
k − 1 + (k − 1)2 (k − 1)2 k2
2
+ 3
2,
n n n
ce qui, en multipliant par n3 , revient à :
29
Chapitre 2 : Ensembles
Applications
Relations
I Ensembles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32
1 Généralités sur les ensembles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32
2 Inclusion, égalité d’ensembles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33
3 Intersection, réunion, différence, complémentaire . . . . . 34
4 Produit cartésien . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
5 Ensemble des parties d’un ensemble . . . . . . . . . . . . 37
6 Recouvrements, recouvrements disjoints, partitions . . . . 37
II Applications . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38
1 Définitions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38
2 Familles d’éléments d’un ensemble . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40
3 Fonction indicatrice . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40
4 Restriction et prolongement . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41
5 Images directes et images réciproques . . . . . . . . . . . 41
6 Composition d’applications . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43
7 Injectivité, surjectivité, bijectivité . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44
III Relations binaires . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
1 Relations d’équivalence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49
2 Relations d’ordre . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50
Démonstrations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52
Exercices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54
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welcome sympathy to what that foolish Honor had begun to think her
rightful place in the social scale, yet life, and especially life at Danescourt
that day, contained for her a good deal that was pleasant and enjoyable. And
then, if the thought did cross her mind that it would be very nice for Mr.
Vavasour to be there, there came with that thought the recollection that,
even supposing him to be among the goodly company assembled more as
lookers-on than as participators in the sports provided, would it be likely
that with Miss Duberly in the grounds, ready to claim her lover’s undivided
attention, he should have either leisure or inclination to waste time upon his
humbler friend? The answer given by common sense to this query, though
humbling, was very good for Honor, inducing her to rest satisfied with the
companionship of her friends the Clays—the kind, hospitable,
unsophisticated Clays—who were always in the seventh heaven of delight
at seeing her; albeit the necessary farm business, and the four miles between
the two houses, rendered the meetings with “darling Honor” not so frequent
as they were desirable. John Beacham was always glad to welcome the
Clays; and even in that noisy crowd (Lady Guernsey’s humble quests were
feeling much more at home since the inner man had been refreshed by
creature comforts)—even in that noisy crowd, he was quite satisfied of his
little wife’s safety and enjoyment, when his neighbour’s well-brought-up
children—including “big Affy,” the eldest born, a steady lad of fifteen, who
was already beginning to be a great help on the farm—were surrounding his
merry, happy-looking wife, while she, “God bless her!” John sometimes
said with a half-sigh, looked “a precious deal too young for him, the
darling! playing there with the young ones, like the child she almost was.”
On the present occasion, Honor, seeing her husband walk away with his
friend Jack Winthrop (their two heads laid together in eager conversation on
some subject, probably equine, that demanded the undivided attention of
both), allowed herself to be beguiled (after seeing her mother-in-law safely
settled in a shady corner with her faithful adherent Widow Thwaytes by her
side) to a portion of the grounds which she had not yet visited, but which,
according to description, was a perfect paradise of delight. In a shady dell,
forming an area of about three hundred yards in diameter, a little quiet
recreation had been, at the request of Lady Guernsey’s children, prepared
for the especial enjoyment of the small fry—respectable small fry, sous-
entendu—who had been bidden to the sports that day. There, on the short
well-kept turf, was the miniature croquet-ground where the little Clays,
with Honor Beacham as mistress of the revels, and a few other children, the
belongings of some of the more important tenantry, were making the most
of their holiday, and shouting gleefully to one another in their uproarious
play.
Such a “good time,” as the Yankees say, they had of it! Honor, the
happiest of the happy, looking, as she stood there with her croquet-mallet in
her hand, and stamping her small foot in playful petulance at the stupidity
of her partner (the pickle Tommy of her governess-days), the
impersonification of bright youth and unreflecting joy.
“Now, Tommy, how could you, you stupid fellow! Why, that was my
ball; you had no business to knock that away. Now, mind what you are
about, like a good mite, and you shall have some goodie-goodies when the
game is over.”
How pretty and animated she looked, while thus—acting on past
experience of his character—exciting the recreant Tommy to rational
behaviour by a bribe! That young gentleman seemed very far from
amenable to reason. A merry, dark-eyed, gipsy-looking boy he was, bent
upon tyrannous rule, while Honor, laughing at his tricks, was, with her two
little gloved hands upon his shoulders, holding him back with playful
determination that the other little ones, as this judicious umpire said, might
have a chance. She was for the moment entirely absorbed in the childish
game. Tommy, though an especial favourite, was, Honor laughingly
declared, “so naughty;” and then her womanly love of protecting the weak
had been called into play by the piteous appeal of a blue-eyed girl of six,
who tearfully claimed her championship against the encroachments of that
wicked Tom.
It was at that moment, and when the fun was growing more fast and
furious than the respective mothers of those unconventional guests would
have thought permissible, that a small group of spectators suddenly
appeared upon the scene. It consisted of Sophy Duberly, Horace Vavasour,
and two of Lady Guernsey’s young daughters, who had volunteered the to
them delightful task of introducing Miss Duberly to where the tenants’
children were, at a humble distance, aping their superiors at the fashionable
game which the young aristocrats believed in as a spécialité of their own.
“It’s such fun to see them,” said Lady Margaret; “they haven’t an idea
how to play! Julia and I have been watching them without their knowing it,
and they are so stupid!”
This noble maiden, who was ten years of age, possessed a turn for satire
(which quality her mamma prudently suppressed. “It does not do, you
know, to encourage clever children to make remarks”); and it being
gratifying, as we all know, to find anyone performing anything worse than
we are capable of executing it ourselves, the little Lady Margaret was well-
pleased to act as show-woman of the plebeian sports, as they were
conducted that day. The approach of the party, walking slowly along the
greensward, was not noticed by the croquet-players (so exuberant was the
laughter that, not exactly, it is to be feared, under “sweet control of
gracefulness,” rang from their souls) till it was too late to look
conventionally demure, was not noticed, in short, till Lady Margaret and her
convoy were almost in the midst of Honor’s not very promising scholars.
She was the first to perceive them, and after a hurried glance, one of the
bright sudden blushes that was the most engaging of its attractions spread
over her beautiful face.
Sophy Duberly, like all those who saw Honor for the first time, was
struck, nay almost startled, by her loveliness. She longed to ask Horace
Vavasour the name of that peerless creature, but she was for the moment
obliged to restrain her curiosity; for they were almost within earshot of the
woman whom Horace knew so well by sight, knew too as the rival of the
gentle-natured heiress so soon to be his sister-in-law.
In common with all the world, the world at least of her own county,
Sophy had heard of the loveliness of the well-to-do farmer’s wife; and in
common too with many of her sex she had at one time felt some curiosity to
see the “Irish beauty” of whose marvellous attractions so much within her
hearing had been said. But the fleeting curiosity had long since passed
away, and the idea did not enter her head that the blushing girl before her
was identical with John Beacham’s bride. She looked so little like a
“common person’s” wife, so little indeed like any wife, as she stood there in
her girlish grace, with her pretty hat, her diaphanous dress, and looped-up
skirt. Poor Leech might have rejoiced over her as a perfect model of dainty
damselhood; but I think that Miss Sophy Duberly stands excused for not, on
the spur of the moment, surmising that Honor Beacham could be that
commonplace and necessarily unideal creature, a farmer’s wife!
The appearance on their playground of the formidable strangers, but
more especially the unlooked-for advent of their little ladyships, produced a
very serious effect on the spirits of the children. Suddenly, and as though
struck by the wand of some mysterious fairy, their laughter was hushed,
their little hands hung down, and even their round bright faces seemed
lengthened and less rosy.
“Go on; pray don’t let us stop you,” Sophy said good-naturedly. But it
was of no use, the spell was broken; and in spite of Honor’s smiling
attempts to restore tranquillity, and to make them feel at home, the tenants’
ruddy-cheeked children refused to listen to the voice of the charmer, even
though that charmer was an affable young lady in one of Mrs. Heath’s
prettiest hats, and who was heiress to some eighty thousand (at least, so said
the voice of rumour) pounds per annum.
Honor was half-amused and half-provoked by the bashfulness which
induced this signal failure. “They are such tiresome little things,” she said,
with a shy smile, but not in the least awkwardly, and addressing herself
more to Miss Duberly than to Horace. Her own natural good taste
whispered to her that it was better (since that young lady had taken the
initiative) not to stand there like a person either waiting for an introduction,
or conscious of being too lowly placed to dare to speak before her
superiors. “They are so little used to strangers; they can be merry enough
though when they are by themselves.”
Horace was rather taken aback by Mrs. John’s proceeding; for he had
seen little of the world, and entertained rather old-fashioned ideas on the
subject of caste. That pretty girl’s relations too with his brother were, or
rather had been, peculiar; and Horace, as the wise head of the family
(whose doings and sayings he was, tant soit peu, given to criticise and
condemn), felt it incumbent on him—a false position entails so many false
moves—to be on this momentous occasion dignified and formal.
Lifting his hat gravely from his fair curls (a luxuriant crop of waving
hair was the solitary beauty which he had inherited from his dead father),
Horace Vavasour said, with a mingled stiffness and urbanity, worthy of the
future “public man:”
“I believe that I have the honour of speaking to Mrs. John Beacham?”
On hearing this semi-interrogation, Miss Sophy Duberly, young lady of
the world though she was, made a slight, though very perceptible, start of
surprise. Although, woman-like, she had kept the feeling closely concealed
within the impregnable fastnesses of her own breast, this young heiress had
nevertheless experienced some of the jealous pangs which female flesh is
heir to, on becoming acquainted—in a partial degree—with her lover’s
frequent visits to John Beacham’s farm. That she, an heiress, and,
consequent on that favoured condition, a petted beauty, should really be
slighted for the farmer’s wife, or indeed for any wife, was an idea that never
entered simple little Sophy Duberly’s head; but there nevertheless was a
soreness—if anyone had dared to call the feeling by the ugly name of
jealousy she would have repelled the charge indignantly—about that spot in
the young girl’s memory, which was connected with that beautiful Honor
Beacham, and therefore it was that she had not been able to repress that
foolish little start, which would have betrayed to any keen observer a mind
not entirely at ease. But although this was so, the kind feeling of the
indulged heiress towards a person so unmistakably her inferior (as the
warehouseman’s daughter, amiable though she was, believed Honor to be)
induced the bride-elect to attempt a task, in which, however, nature had
been beforehand with her—the task, that is to say, of preventing Mrs. John
Beacham from either looking or feeling, under these exceptional
circumstances, awkward or ill at ease.
“I am so sorry we interrupted you,” she was beginning, when a voice and
step behind her checked the words upon her lips. “Arthur!” she exclaimed
joyfully. “Ah, I was sure it was you! I thought you would come! But how
late it is!” And her two hands were held out for his acceptance joyfully. His
own were in hers, though, as Horace saw at once, he looked worn and
worried, when he perceived, though she had turned away on his arrival, the
presence there of Honor Beacham. Men, even the most practised ones, are,
when compared to women, poor dissemblers; so it need cause no surprise
that while Arthur Vavasour started, and displayed a momentary agitation,
Honor, on the contrary, betrayed not the slightest sign or token of emotion.
It might be that the very emergency of the case gave her courage to play a
part, for she guessed at once, from the tone and manner of her greeting, that
the affable young lady was Mr. Vavasour’s promised bride, and—stronger
reason still for showing a fearless front—she, the petted, prosperous wife,
had no guilty feelings to conceal, no cause to shrink from the inquiring gaze
either of friend or foe.
She was very glad to see her friend, but she would have been better
pleased had their meeting been on horseback in the quiet lanes, or on foot in
the old-fashioned home-garden, where the pinks and roses were in the full
glory of their summer beauty. She had vaguely expected another meeting
there—not yet awhile, but when Arthur should come home again, after the
months she heard he meant to spend in foreign travel, and when he would
talk to her of all the curious sights that he had seen, and all the marvellous
adventures that had fallen to his lot. Half in sadness, half in hope, Honor
had indulged in all innocence this dream. She had grown accustomed to his
absence as to an inevitable necessity; had taught herself to think of him as
one to whom she had said (for the time at least) a last “farewell;” and
behold! there he was again,—tall, handsome, with those tender caressing
eyes looking, despite his future bride’s presence, into hers, and the hand, the
long-lingering pressure of which she remembered, alas, too well, holding,
for one speaking second, her own within its clasp.
“We have been interrupting Mrs. Beacham, who was good-naturedly
amusing the children,” said Horace. “They were as merry as any little
beggars could be, weren’t they, Lady Margaret? before we came, and now
they look as if butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths.”
“Won’t it?” said Arthur, laughing—he was always good-natured to
children, and especially to those that he had seen Honor pet. The little Clays
he was acquainted with, both personally and individually, and it was even
on record at the farm that the young Squire had given that ne’er-do-weel
boy Tommy his first lesson in the noble game of cricket. “What, tired
already! I never saw such idle brats! Here, you Tommy, run and fetch the
balls.”
But here Honor interposed. She did not want the children to be
troublesome; besides, the voice of conscience within her whispered that
Arthur Vavasour was in duty bound, so soon after his arrival, to devote
himself to his fiancée.
“You are very kind, Mr. Vavasour,” she said; “but I think that the little
ones must be tired; and Tommy,” stroking his swarthy cheek kindly as he
leant against the skirt of her fresh muslin dress, “is a bad boy, and mustn’t
be spoilt.”
Perhaps Arthur understood her, for he said no more about the croquet
game, nor did he, beyond a parting bow, respectful and commonplace, take
any notice of her departure, with little Tommy clinging to her skirt, and the
small blue-eyed girl, whose champion she had been, holding with all the
force of her tiny fingers Honor’s hand in hers.
“How pretty she is,” said Sophy, when they were out of hearing, “and so
well dressed and well behaved, too! She made quite a graceful curtsey as
she went away. I wonder where she learnt it.”
At that moment Sophy was utterly devoid of any jealous feelings
towards Mrs. Beacham. Hers was a very frank and unsuspicious nature, and
moreover, what was there to fear? Had not her dearly-loved Arthur been
instigated in his choice of her by love alone—a comfortable fact made
evident beyond dispute by the brilliancy of Mr. Vavasour’s future
prospects? In less than four years he would be one of the richest commoners
in England; how, then, could she entertain any of those misgivings which
are so apt to haunt the couch and damp the happy hopes of young ladies in
Miss Duberly’s position? But there was yet another cause for the mind at
ease with which “little Sophy” was blest, when, leaning on the arm of her
betrothed, she paid a not unwilling tribute to Mrs. Beacham’s beauty.
Ladies, more especially perhaps wealthy ones, are often rather apt to
overrate the influence of their ladyhood per se, while the loveliness of
women in a rank inferior to their own is shorn in their opinion, and for the
mere reason of that inferiority, of half its powder to charm. The coldness,
too, of Arthur’s parting salutation was well calculated to reassure one so
inexperienced in human wiles as “old Dub’s” guileless daughter. How was
she, poor child, to guess that, while her heart was throbbing with almost
wild delight at the unexpected happiness afforded by his presence, he, the
faithless one, while giving no outward signs of aught save pleasure in her
beaming smiles and tender words, was thinking only of the simplest, easiest
way in which to make his escape to Honor, and turning over in his mind the
least perilous words in which to reveal to the wife of his dead father’s friend
the fact that he adored her!
CHAPTER IV.
THE HALF-REBUKE.
“I had not the slightest intention of coming back—God knows I had not—
when I went away; but I am the weakest fool. I told myself again and again
that I was mad, and worse, to come where—where you are, Honor;” and he
drew a long breath as the word came hesitatingly from his lips; “but it
would not do. The more I tried to forget, the more I remembered; and the
oftener I told myself that I must not see you, the more some evil thing
within me urged me on to come.”
Honor had listened to him hitherto in silence; partly through surprise,
and partly too because of that pitiable shrinking which so many women,
especially young women, experience when it becomes their duty to hurt the
feelings of men who venture to address them in language that ought to be
forbidden. If we could look with any degree of perspicacity into the
intricacies of female motives, I think it would be found that there is no
inconsiderable amount of selfishness in this fear of wounding the
susceptibilities of a too daring admirer. The chances that the hero of a
hundred such fights, when wounded and worsted in the last encounter, will
betake himself to fresh fields and pastures new, is not altogether an
agreeable one. The sternly virtuous female, left alone with the sole reward
—not always a sufficing one—of an approving conscience, is (and she
looks forward to this dismal fait accompli with no reassuring glance) not
precisely in a cheerful position. It is never pleasant to be forsaken—never
consoling to be abandoned to the society of a dull, unappreciating husband,
or, greater evil still, to the company of a woman’s own thoughts, the more
especially when that woman has allowed herself to listen to the voice of the
charmer, and has grown accustomed to the flattering attentions of an ever
awake and devoted soupirant. So the foolish wife—a well-intentioned one,
possibly, in spite of vanity and its consequent shortcomings—temporises,
deliberates, puts off till a more convenient season the vindication of her
matronly dignity, unconscious meanwhile that her feet are on the brink of a
precipice, and that the avenger of guilty thoughts is treading swift behind
her.
Neither the absence of moral courage, the dread of giving offence, nor
the very natural objection to the loss of an agreeable admirer, are
diminished by the fact that the admirer in question is the lady’s superior in
the social scale; and it is more than possible that had Arthur Vavasour been
a farmer’s son, Honor would have found comparatively little difficulty in
expressing the indignation which she was well aware she ought to feel on
listening to words which were scarcely less than a declaration of love.
“I haven’t offended you?” he said, looking anxiously at her half-averted
face. “I thought we were friends; I am sorry, so sorry, if I have vexed you,
but you must forgive me. It is so difficult, so impossible, to see much of
anyone—I mean anyone like you—without—without becoming stupidly
confidential; and I could not—indeed I could not—help telling you how I
had missed you when I was away. You see, I am so strangely situated, so—”
He stopped; it was such dangerous ground that on which he had begun to
tread: he on the very verge of matrimony; and, as it appeared on the face of
things, so entirely guided to that verge by his own wishes and inclinations.
Honor looked up at him in surprise.
“You are going to be married,” she said coldly. “You told me so yourself,
and I have seen the young lady that is to be your wife. She is rich and
pretty, and looks nice and kind. Why do you say that you are strangely
situated?”
“Why,” said Arthur impetuously, “because I should never, no, not for
one single moment, have dreamt of marrying Miss Duberly if I had not
been driven to it by—but,” he went on with a hard bitter laugh, “it sounds
too ridiculous to say by what. You would not believe now, Mrs. Beacham—
you, who know so little of the world, and of what is called business, and of
human nature—that I, whom people in general think so much to be envied,
‘heir to such a splendid property’—young, prosperous, everything that is
most delightful—should be—don’t laugh if you can help it—marrying for
money.”
Again she looked at him, but this time with eyes full of pity and distress.
“How strange!” she said softly. “No, indeed, I never should have thought
that; I always believed—I always fancied—”
“That I was one of those jolly fellows that can do what they like, and
have everything their own way. How wonderfully you, and everyone else
are mistaken! I should just like—no, I shouldn’t, it would be such a bitter
shame—to have the whole business shown up. I know I must seem such an
awful screw sometimes, such a confounded cur! People must wonder why I
don’t subscribe to charities and asylums, and to the hounds; and, now—why
I marry this girl,—this heiress, who,” he continued as if talking to himself,
“is no connection, has no beauty; while I—well, in the common course of
nature, may expect to live a few years longer—to a rational age that is—for
what is called ‘settling down.’ The truth is”—and here he lowered his
voice, although there was no one within hearing, to a whisper—“the truth
is, that I have no inclination, no ‘call,’ as they say, to marry. If Miss
Duberly were the most beautiful creature that ever breathed, I should feel
the same. It is now three months since I engaged myself to Sophy Duberly,
and since then”—with a glance full of meaning at his companion—“I have
had time to discover that on her account, as well as my own, I have made a
grievous and fatal mistake.”
Arthur had truly said that Honor knew but little of the world. She had
heard and read scarcely anything of love and lovers, but her woman’s
instinct warned her, as it would have warned any delicate-minded woman,
that this confidence on Vavasour’s part was one of which he ought to be
ashamed. Nature had given her a loyal heart, and it was not loyal—there
especially, and almost as it were within earshot of the girl who trusted him
—to confide to her his repugnance to a marriage from which he owned he
was to “suck out no small advantage.” Her judgment might be warped by
her pity and by the pride she took in Arthur’s companionship, but nothing
could, in her eyes, totally excuse him; and moreover she was too thoroughly
womanly not to feel some compassion for the girl who was to be the joint
victim of Mr. Vavasour’s necessities.
It was this compassion, this truly feminine feeling for one whose
sorrows she was so well able to understand, that prompted Honor’s reply,
and encouraged her to be brave.
“I don’t like to hear you talk in this way, Mr. Vavasour,” she said, her
heart beating rather quickly as she summoned all her resolution to her aid.
“It isn’t right—indeed, indeed it isn’t. If you do not love this poor young
lady, you ought never to have said it—to me—to anyone—not even to
yourself. What good can it do now to say such things? Nothing—you know
it can’t; and besides, you will be happy, I am sure you will, after you are
married—I—”
“Are you so very happy?” he said meaningly, and stopping in his walk to
look into the depths of her violet eyes. “Are you certain, from your own
experience, that happiness must follow after marriage?”
She turned away. “You have no right to ask these questions,” she said
hurriedly. “Mr. Vavasour, I ask you—beg you not to say such things to me!
Why will you do it,” she added imploringly, “when you know how much it
vexes and annoys me?”
He was quieted in a moment; brought for the nonce, by the sight of her
unfeigned distress, to a sense of his misconduct, and said quite humbly:
“I am very sorry; I will not offend you again—never! But at least let us
part friends. We are quite near the people and the tent now. Give me one
moment before you go back to be happy. Only say that you forgive me; say
that you will think kindly of me, and wish me well when I am far away.”
“I shall think of you—I do wish you well,” she stammered out, not
relaxing her pace, but advancing steadily towards the place where, about ten
minutes before (for her interview with Vavasour, long as it has taken to
relate, had occupied no greater space of time), she had left that, in her own
opinion, important personage, Mrs. Beacham, seated under the branches of
a spreading lime-tree, listening to village scandal from the lips of a
congenial gossip.
“O, there is milady at last,” the former exclaimed, as Honor, escorted by
Mr. Vavasour, advanced slowly towards them. “You’ve been a pretty time
away, Mrs. John; and here ’ave I been looking for you everywhere.”
She spoke very crossly, an irritability occasioned not only by Honor’s
short absence, which the old lady had magnified into five times its actual
length, but by the “incivility,” as she called it, of Mr. Arthur, who, instead
of staying to say something “pretty,” had, after making what she supposed
he considered a “fine bow,” taken himself off to some of his “great
acquaintances;” a slight which Mrs. Beacham did not appear very likely
soon to look over.
“I’m sorry I went away, and sorrier still if you’ve been wanting me,”
Honor said good-humouredly. “Mr. Vavasour wanted to show me a tree—
such a beautiful one!—I forget its name; but if you would like to see it, I
could find the way again. The branches all feather down to the ground, and
the leaves are so wonderfully green! I shall ask John to have some at the
Paddocks.”
“Humph! I don’t fancy that John will care to indulge you much with
anything when he hears of your goings-on.”
“Goings-on!” repeated Honor almost mechanically, for she was too
much astonished by this sudden attack to answer coherently. “I don’t quite
understand—really I don’t. I did not know I was doing wrong when I
walked a little way with Mr. Vavasour. I would not have gone for anything
in the world if I had thought that you or John would have minded it.”
At that moment John himself, looking a little warm and discomposed,
strode up the rising ground towards the spreading lime-trees under which
the old lady, hugging closely her wrath and jealousy, was grimly waiting his
approach. John was the kindest-hearted man alive. He would not wantonly
hurt the feelings even of an enemy (always supposing him to have owned
such a commodity); but Honor had not been married three months without
discovering that her husband was what is called “hasty,” and that in those
exceptional moments when he was a trifle “put about,” the wisest plan was
to leave him alone till he should have recovered himself. Mrs. Beacham,
however—whether owing to the absence of perceptive qualities, or from an
idea that her son was not too old to be spoilt by over-indulgence—went on
different tactics, and generally (at least so it appeared to Honor) chose the
occasions when poor John was not quite himself to “touch him up,” as the
good man would himself have said, “on the raw.”
“Well, John, I must say you’ve taken your time,” the old lady, in
conformity with this judicious practice, was beginning; but her son, who, as
a rule, was accustomed to let his mother “have her fling,” stopped her
further speech by an authoritative wave of his hand, while he said in a
louder voice than he had ever yet used to Honor (they were comparatively
alone, for the gossip had moved away when matters begun to look serious
between Mrs. John and the old lady):
“I’ve had a pretty dance, I have, this hour and more. Catch me, that’s all,
ever coming to their tomfooleries again! Not I, indeed—no, not even if the
Queen upon her throne was to be at the head of ’em!” And, in corroboration
of this spirited resolve, John Beacham struck his stout stick into the ground
with rather more of the strength of his good right arm than the occasion
warranted.
“Why, what’s the matter, John?” Honor said, amused, as any girl of her
age might have been at his words and action. “What has anyone done to put
you in such a pet?” And, half in reparation of the wrongs, slight though they
were, which she was conscious of having done him, she stole her arm
through his, and looked up with an air of pretty entreaty into his face.
The sight was gall and wormwood to his mother. To do her justice, she
really had talked and thought herself into the belief that Honor—this girl
taken, as it pleased her to say, out of charity, and without so much as a
“smock” to her back—was behaving undutifully and ungratefully to the
husband who had bestowed upon her so many and such unmerited
blessings. Her unjust prejudice did not go the length of persuading her that
there was anything “really wrong” in her daughter-in-law’s conduct; but
that Honor was vain, fond of admiration, and given to the liking of having
“men about her,” Mrs. Beacham entertained no doubt. It was high time too
that John, who was so ridiculous about Honor, should have a little idea of
what she really was. Not that she wished to cause anything of
disagreeableness between them. John was married—more was the pity—
and he must make the best of it; but it did not follow that something
mightn’t be done to put poor John upon his guard, and to show “milady”
(the satirical old lady’s ironical petit nom for her daughter-in-law) that she
wasn’t going to lead that unsuspecting John altogether by the nose.
“What has been done now, John, to put you in such a pet?” Honor said,
little surmising that she had either act or part in her husband’s evident
annoyance.
He looked for a moment searchingly into her honest eyes—eyes that had
never deceived him yet, and in which he had yet to learn distrust.
Something that he read there reassured him, for he softly patted, before he
answered her, the hand that rested on his arm.
“It isn’t much that you have to do with it, my dear, I reckon, after all,” he
said, drawing a long pouf of satisfaction, after which, for his still further
solace, he wiped his hot forehead with his handkerchief. “To tell you the
truth, though, I thought at one time you had; and the man is such an
unmitigated scamp!”
Honor coloured to the roots of her fair hair at this uncompromising
epithet. For a single instant she thought that John was speaking of Arthur
Vavasour; and, despite the corroborative evidence of her own ears, a sudden
pang of anger against her plain outspoken husband shot through her brain.
In another second, however, the current of her ideas was checked; for John
continued: “How these fine people can allow such a fellow as Colonel
Norcott to come inside their doors passes my understanding! A man that has
a way of looking at ’em that no modest woman ought to bear; and then
there’s the things he’s known to have done, and the—But I’m not going into
all that. Someone told me he was married and going to reform—a thing I
won’t believe till I see it; but in the mean time he’s trying it on to scrape
acquaintance with me. Sent me a message by Clay’s eldest little chap, to say
he should be glad before I left Danescourt to have a few minutes
conversation with me—the impudence of the fellow! And yet I’m curious
now, bad as I think of him, to know what he can have to say. I wasn’t over
civil an hour or two ago to the fellow, so it’s odd, ain’t it, altogether? He
never said where he’d be neither, nor where I should be likely to find him;
and the odd thing is—and what did put me out till I came to think for
certain it wasn’t true—one of the little chaps that I asked if he’d seen the
Colonel said that—hang him! you may well look alive, mother—he had
been walking about among the trees with Honor there!”
“How absurd!” Honor said. “My dear John, I never set eyes on him after
you told me who he was.”
“Yes, indeed, I can answer for that,” put in Mrs. Beacham. “Honor has
been better amused, John, by a good deal than in looking after Colonel
Norcott.”
“Looking after” and “better amused”—what did it all mean? John was
not the most perspicacious of mortals, yet even he could perceive the
something in his mother’s speech which meant more than met the ear. After
all, what is easier than to stir into a blaze an already well-laid fire? while to
“hint a fault, and hesitate dislike,” are means well suited to raise a storm;
and is it not too sadly true that in the simplest sounding words, the kindest
and least-designing nature can, if his mood he attuned to suspicion,
sometimes read a volume?
Intensely as John Beacham admired his wife’s beauty, he had, somewhat
strange to say, been awake for the first time that day to a sense of its effect
on others. His wrath—the natural wrath of a man and a husband—had been
grievously stirred within him at the sight of Fred Norcott’s bold stare into
Honor’s modest eyes. He had noted the crimson flush that made her look so
passing lovely, and feared—not without good cause—that the hardened
profligate, who had never had the grace to hide under a bushel his solitary
talent (the truly Mephistophelian one of beguiling fond and foolish women
to their own destruction), would discover in Honor’s rising colour only
another proof, if proof were wanting, of his own irresistible power to
fascinate. At that moment—so unjust does personal annoyance often render
even the best amongst us—John felt half angry with his wife for this
additional proof, had proof been wanting, of a delicacy and reserve which
repelled with indignation the coarse incense offered for her acceptance. It
certainly was wrong on John’s part; but then you must remember that he
was not a fashionable husband—was, in fact, only a clod, as Colonel
Norcott’s might have said; and being only a clod, he may be excused for
holding certain anti-Mormon and old-world ideas. For instance, this stupid,
selfish fellow, entertaining the barbaric notion of keeping his wife’s beauty
for his own delectation, would, I fear, have strongly objected to seeing that
well-conducted young woman join in the “voluptuous waltz”—