"I know all about that; I was at my window. I know that Monsieur Renardin sent a box of candied fruit to the little shirtmaker, and that Arthémise, his maid, got possession of the box and ate what was in it. That Arthémise is a bad one, and her master ought to discharge her at once. But when a man submits to be domineered over by his servant, he deserves to have her make a fool of him. However, that doesn't interest me much; this Monsieur Renardin is not a rival to worry about. You have been to see the little one? Well! She was flattered, enchanted by my proposition, of course? When is she coming?"
Frontin drew himself up, assumed a solemn expression, and replied:
"Mademoiselle Georgette did not seem at all flattered by monsieur's proposition; on the contrary, she put on an air—well, an air as if she was a great swell!"
"Cut it short, Frontin!"
"Well, monsieur, this shirtmaker doesn't choose to measure you for shirts; do you understand that?"
"I understand that you're an idiot, if that's the way you did my errand! I never said a word to you about taking my measure!"
"But I supposed that was necessary, monsieur. When a tailor makes you a coat, he takes your measure first."
"Enough! What did the girl say? She didn't refuse without giving any reasons, did she?"
"She thought it was strange, monsieur, that you are not married. She said: 'Oh! if your master was married, if he had a wife, that would make a difference; I'd go and measure him right away; but I don't go to see bachelors. If he chooses to come to my rooms, I will receive him.'"
"Aha! she wants me to go to her! You ought to have begun by telling me that, you clown! I understand—that flatters my young lady's vanity! These girls have so much self-esteem! She wants the whole house to know that Monsieur de Mardeille is paying court to her! Well, I don't care, after all; I will go; but I will go in the evening, because the neighbors aren't at their windows after dark."
XI
DECLARATION AND OBSTINACY
That same evening, Monsieur de Mardeille left his apartment about eight o'clock. It was quite dark, everything was quiet in the house, and he stole noiselessly downstairs and passed the concierge's lodge on tiptoe, unnoticed. Then he walked rapidly across the courtyard and went up to the entresol, where he could see a light.
"No one will see me go to the little shirtmaker's," he said to himself, "and perhaps she will be quite as well pleased to receive me after dark. That saves appearances."
He stopped at Georgette's door and knocked softly. In a moment, a sweet voice said:
"Who is there?"
"Open, if you please, Mademoiselle Georgette; it is someone who wishes to speak to you."
"I don't receive visits at night. Come back to-morrow morning."
"I am your opposite neighbor, mademoiselle—Monsieur de Mardeille; I sent my servant to you this morning. You know what it is that brings me; so be kind enough to open the door, I beg."
"I am very sorry, monsieur; but I never let anybody in at night. Come back to-morrow. It will be light then."
"What, mademoiselle! you leave me outside your door—me, Monsieur de Mardeille! You are quite certain, I presume, that I am not a robber?"
"Perhaps you might be a more dangerous character! Good-night, monsieur! Until to-morrow, by daylight!"
"It's because she considers me too dangerous that she won't let me in now!" said Monsieur de Mardeille to himself, as he returned to his own lodgings.
That idea, by flattering his self-esteem, consoled him a little for having put himself out to no purpose.
"It's plain," he thought, "that she wants the whole house to know that I am paying court to her.—Well! since it must be, mademoiselle, you shall receive a visit from me at midday."
And the next day, after passing more than an hour at his toilet, because he was determined to be irresistible, Monsieur de Mardeille decided to defy the prying glances of the neighbors. He went downstairs as if he were going out; but as he passed the concierge, who was standing at his door, he said:
"By the way, that girl who lives on the entresol makes shirts, doesn't she?"
"Yes, monsieur; she works for a linen draper; her sewing is perfect, so they say."
"In that case, I am inclined to order some shirts of her. One ought always to employ one's neighbors, as far as possible."
And our dandified friend turned on his heel, crossed the courtyard, and in an instant stood before Georgette's door, which was always unlocked during the day.
Monsieur de Mardeille tapped softly twice.
"Come in, the door is unlocked," replied the same voice that he had heard the night before.
Monsieur de Mardeille entered with the ease of manner born of familiarity with society, and the nonchalance which a rich man always affects when he calls upon poor people—unless, that is to say, he is possessed of intelligence or tact; in which case, far from seeking to make his superiority felt, his endeavor will rather be to keep it out of sight. But men of tact and intelligence are rare, and Georgette's caller was deficient in both those qualities.
However, he abated something of his lordly manner when he saw how unconcernedly the young woman received him. She seemed in no wise perturbed by his visit, but gracefully motioned him to a chair and coolly resumed her own, which was near the window, saying:
"May I know, monsieur, to what I am indebted for the honor of your visit?"
Monsieur de Mardeille settled himself comfortably in his chair, and replied:
"Mademoiselle, I sent my valet to you yesterday; I ventured to request you to come to my apartment; it is not very far; I live just opposite."
"Oh! I know it, monsieur; I recognize you perfectly. But your servant must have told you——"
"That you would not call upon unmarried men—yes, he told me that. But, bless my soul! why do bachelors cause you such alarm? Have you had much reason to complain of them? Ha! ha! ha! Do you know that that might give rise to many conjectures?"
And he laughed again, because he had fine teeth which he was very glad to exhibit, and because, moreover, he thought it quite clever to laugh like that. But Georgette remained unmoved, and replied:
"I don't know what conjectures one might form, monsieur; but I act thus because it suits me, and I worry very little about what people may think."
Monsieur de Mardeille, surprised at the girl's serious tone, smiled rather sheepishly and decided not to laugh any more. He moved uneasily in his chair as he rejoined:
"I had no intention to offend you. The deuce! mademoiselle, it seems that one cannot safely jest with you."
"I beg your pardon, monsieur; I am very ready to jest, when I know my man."
"Ah! to be sure, and you know me only by sight as yet. I consider myself fortunate, mademoiselle, to have so charming a person as you are for my opposite neighbor; and it made me anxious at once to—to—to become better acquainted with you."
"I thank you, monsieur; but there is too great a difference of rank between us."
"Differences may be lessened; in fact, they very soon disappear between a lovely woman and a man who is fascinated by her charms."
Georgette smiled and murmured:
"Was it to tell me that that you came here, monsieur?"
"Faith, yes! Look you! I won't beat about the bush; I prefer to go straight to the point. Indeed, why should I conceal the impression that your charms, your beauty, have made on my heart? Is it a crime to love you? especially as I am a bachelor, which certainly is no reason for spurning my homage. Yes, my lovely neighbor, you turned my head the very first time I saw you—in this charming négligé which is so becoming to you! I have not had a moment's repose since, I think of nothing but you! I used the pretext of wanting shirts made to try to lure you to my apartment; but what I wanted, what I want now, before everything, is to tell you that I adore you, and to beg you not to be insensible to my love!"
It was Georgette's turn to laugh; and she did it so frankly, so unreservedly, that the old beau, who had leaned over toward her, straightened himself up and seemed completely taken back. As the pretty shirtmaker continued to laugh, he decided to say:
"Mon Dieu! mademoiselle, I am delighted to have afforded you so much amusement; but may I not know what it is that makes you laugh so heartily? It cannot be my avowal of my sentiments? You must be accustomed to receive such declarations, are you not? So far as I have been able to see, almost all the men in the house have told you or would like to tell you the same thing."
"Ah! you know that, do you, monsieur?"
"Did I not see the concierge pass the whole of yesterday bringing you bouquets, photographs, and heaven knows what? I even heard something of a box of candied fruit.—Ha! ha! ha! that was too absurd!"
"It is quite true that all the gentlemen in the house have been most polite to me."
"Faith! mademoiselle, I don't send bouquets myself; I consider it so commonplace, so vulgar, that I am not tempted to imitate these gentry. I speak out, I say frankly what I feel. Don't you consider that the better way?"
"Why, it seems to me that it is very pleasant to receive bouquets and other presents."
Monsieur de Mardeille bit his lips and said to himself:
"She likes her little presents; she's selfish; that's a pity!"
But that did not prevent him from moving his chair nearer to Georgette's, and trying to assume a very affectionate, touching tone, as he murmured:
"You have made no reply to my declaration, charming girl."
"I beg your pardon; didn't you hear me laugh?"
"What! is that the way you reply? What am I to conclude from that?"
"That I took your declaration of love for what it was worth—that is to say, for a joke."
"A joke! Oh! don't think it! I spoke most seriously. I love you! I adore you!"
"On the instant, just from seeing me at my window?"
"Does it take weeks or months to fall in love? We see a woman; she attracts us, fascinates us at once, or never. Love—what is it but electricity?"
"Oh! I didn't know!"
"Why, it is nothing else; a pretty woman's eyes contain the fluid that electrifies us. The moment that we feel the shock, it's all up with us; we are electrified."
"Really! and the women, what electrifies them?"
"Why, that is done by the same process; our glances do the business!"
As he spoke, he tried to electrify the girl by fixing his eyes upon her, full of fire, and attempted to move his chair still nearer. But Georgette moved hers away, saying in a very sharp tone:
"Don't sit so near me, monsieur, I beg you! it makes it hard for me to work, and, besides, it isn't proper."
The old beau was speechless with surprise; he concluded that his eyes had not emitted enough of the magnetic fluid, and tried to make them still more inflammable as he exclaimed:
"May not one venture to approach you, pray, in order to admire that divine figure at closer quarters?"
"No, monsieur, one may not. What would the neighbors think if they should see you sitting so near me?"
"The neighbors! the neighbors! Why do you leave your window wide open? It makes it very inconvenient to talk with you. I will close it, with your permission."
"No, monsieur, no; I wish it to remain open; it does not interfere at all with my talking; and if the neighbors know that you are calling on me,—which they probably do, for everything that goes on in this house is seen,—why, they will see that nothing has happened that I need to conceal."
Monsieur de Mardeille frowned slightly; he shifted about in his chair, and said, after a brief pause:
"What a strange idea it is, to subject yourself like this to the inspection of other people, to whose opinion you ought to be indifferent, in any event!"
"Ah! so you think that one can afford to be indifferent to other people's opinion?"
"I think—I think that you treat me very cruelly!"
"And I, monsieur, think that I have conferred a great favor on you by consenting to receive you in my room—where I never receive any man. It seems that you are not at all grateful."
"Oh! pardon me, my lovely neighbor; certainly I am very grateful; but I thought—I hoped—— By the way, you have not told me yet whether my sentiments are offensive to you?"
"Why, monsieur, I hardly know you! And I don't allow myself to be electrified as easily as you do, I presume."
"Cruel girl! you make sport of my torments."
"You say that you love me, do you, monsieur? But why should I believe in your love? What proofs of it have you given me?"
"What proofs? Do you mean to say, mademoiselle, that you must have proofs before you believe in it?"
"Most certainly! Oh! I am very incredulous, monsieur, and I don't believe in anything until I have had proofs of it."
"But it seems to me, mademoiselle, that the step I am taking at this moment ought to satisfy you that I am telling you the truth. When a man of my rank, a man accustomed to frequent only the best society, pays a visit to a—a simple working girl, he must be impelled thereto by a very powerful sentiment!"
"That is to say, monsieur, that you think you do me great honor by calling on me?"
"Why, no, I don't say that! You are cruel, and no mistake! you put a bad construction on everything I say!"
Georgette made no reply, but continued to sew. Monsieur de Mardeille, sorely annoyed because he had failed to make such rapid progress as he hoped, said to himself:
"Let us try changing the subject. The little one must like pleasure. All women want to be amused. Let us see if we can't dazzle her."
After a moment, he added, aloud:
"Have you been working long at this trade—for a linen draper?"
"No, monsieur. Indeed, I have not been long in Paris."
"Ah! then you are not a Parisienne? You surprise me! You have all the grace of one. May I, without being impertinent, ask you from what province you come?"
Georgette hesitated a moment before she replied:
"I come from a small village near Rouen."
"Ah! you are a Norman! That is strange, for you haven't the Norman accent. How long have you been in Paris?"
"Nearly five months."
"Did you come alone?"
"Yes, all alone. I said to my parents: 'I want to go to Paris; I will work hard there, and perhaps I may make my fortune—who knows?'"
Monsieur de Mardeille scratched his head as he repeated:
"Fortune! hum! that's not so easy. Women don't often make their fortunes in Paris, when they have no other means of earning money than their needle. But, when you came to Paris, you probably knew that you would find a friend here, a wealthy protector, who could start you at once on the road to the fortune to which you aspire?"
"No, monsieur," Georgette replied coldly; "I did not come to Paris to meet anyone, and I shall find a way myself to reach the end I have in view."
Once more the old beau bit his lips and glanced about the room.
"It's impossible to tell how to take the girl; she's always on her guard!" he said to himself. "I shall not succeed with her so quickly as I thought. But, it doesn't make much difference, I have plenty of time. I must find her sensitive spot.—Are you fond of the play, mademoiselle?" he asked.
"Oh! yes, monsieur, very!"
"Do you go often?"
"Most rarely, monsieur. In the first place, I have no acquaintances in Paris; and for a young girl to go to the theatre alone is hardly proper."
"I have found the weak point in the shield," thought Mardeille; and he rejoined:
"Well, my charming neighbor, I will escort you to the theatre, with your permission. We will have a little screened box; it will be very comfortable, like being at home."
"I don't know what your little screened boxes are, monsieur; but when I go to the play, I don't go to hide myself; I want to see and be seen."
"Ah! you want to be seen! What a coquette!"
"It is not from coquetry. But, monsieur, you cannot think that I would go to the play with such an elegant person as you, in the modest costume that I wear."
"I presume that you would not go in this jacket and this short skirt, although the costume is divinely becoming to you! On my word, you are bewitching so!"
"No, of course, I would not go out in a jacket; but my best costume is very modest: a cotton gown, a little cap, a knitted fichu—that's my attire!"
"What! haven't you a bonnet—a tiny bonnet?"
"No, monsieur, I haven't."
The elderly dandy moved about in his chair, seemed to reflect, and said, at last:
"After all, you must be fascinating in a cap. Besides, we can take a cab. Is it settled? I will take you to-night, if you agree."
"What, monsieur! do you mean to say that you would take to the theatre a woman in a cotton dress, cap, and a fichu instead of a shawl?"
"I do; I am entirely free from prejudices. I would like to take you in the costume you have on, if it were possible."
"Well, upon my word! I wouldn't have believed that!"
"That proves how dearly I love you, I hope."
Georgette shook her head as she replied:
"Why, no, it doesn't prove it at all. However, monsieur, I have more self-esteem than you. I have enough respect for your exalted rank to avoid compromising it. Fie, monsieur! what would people think of you if they saw you with a woman in a cap on your arm?"
"But we shall take a cab."
"We shall not go into the theatre in a cab! Ha! ha! And as I don't propose to hide myself in a screened box, when I am once in the theatre everyone will have plenty of time to admire my costume."
Monsieur de Mardeille rose and paced the floor, and for some time he did not speak; at last he said:
"What do you need to go to the theatre with me, my lovely child?"
"Why, almost everything: a silk dress; they have such nice things ready-made now, that it will be easy enough to find one that will fit me. And a pretty bonnet, and a fine shawl—cashmere, or something like it,—and gloves—nice kid gloves."
Monsieur de Mardeille began to pace the floor again, dissembling with difficulty the grimace that had replaced his amiable air. Suddenly he looked into the courtyard and exclaimed:
"Ah! I believe I have visitors! Yes, they have come to see me. Au revoir, my charming neighbor; a thousand pardons for leaving you so abruptly!"
"Oh! pray don't mind me, monsieur!"
Our dandy was already at the door; he returned hurriedly to his own apartment, with an exceedingly ill-humored expression; and when Frontin inquired:
"Did the shirtmaker take monsieur's measure?" he angrily replied:
"Hold your tongue, you imbecile! I forbid you ever to mention that grisette to me."
XII
LOVE! LOVE! WHEN THOU HAST TAKEN US CAPTIVE!
A week passed. Monsieur de Mardeille had not called again upon Georgette; he had not stationed himself at his rear windows; but he had stolen many a glance through the glass, by raising a corner of the curtain. He had seen his young neighbor, as alert and alluring and graceful as ever, going to and fro in her modest apartment; then sitting down to work at her window; then rising and sitting down again; and every movement of the pretty shirtmaker made his heart beat fast. He had given Frontin a kick in the hind quarters, when that worthy ventured to laugh inanely because his master raised the curtain.
He was somewhat flattered by the fact that, although Georgette responded affably enough to the salutations of her other neighbors, he had never seen one of them in her room; so that she had really done him a favor by consenting to receive him.
At the end of a week, he said to himself:
"After all, it was on my account, it was in my interest, to avoid compromising me, that the girl insisted upon being well dressed before she would go out on my arm. I can't be angry with her for that: it was a very excusable motive. But then I must send her all that she lacks. Pardieu! I am well able to do it! That is not the question—no—but it isn't my custom; I have never spent money on women. I know that once doesn't make a custom; but, for all that, I don't like it. But that girl is obstinate and strong-willed; if I don't send her what she wants, I shall have to abandon the pursuit. And I don't want to abandon it! I dream of her every night. I see her slender figure, her rounded hips, which her little black skirt hugs so closely. Well! I must buy her this finery. I won't go so far as the cashmere—no, indeed, I'm not such a fool! But when a man goes so far as to play the gallant, he must do things properly. At my age, it's very unpleasant to change one's habits. Why in the devil did that provoking grisette take up her abode in my house? right opposite me? under my nose? It's a fatality!"
Love, and self-esteem, which is quite as strong as its brother, carried the day at last. One morning Georgette received the shawl, the bonnet, the dress, and even the kid gloves, with this brief note written by her stylish neighbor:
"Now will you go to the theatre with me to-night?"
And Georgette replied, to the messenger:
For Monsieur de Mardeille, who did not wish that anyone should know that he was spending money to gratify the shirtmaker, had not sent his gifts by Frontin.
That evening, about seven o'clock, the dandy presented himself at Georgette's door. She was all dressed and ready, and probably less seductive in that guise than in her jacket and short skirt; but she was still very comely, because a young and pretty woman never becomes ugly in a stylish bonnet. Indeed, Monsieur de Mardeille was surprised at the ease with which his little neighbor wore her new costume.
"On my honor!" he cried; "you are charming thus! You wear these clothes with such grace!"
"Does that surprise you, monsieur?"
"Nothing surprises me in you; I believe you to be adapted for any station."
"I am ready; let us go."
"Oh! we have plenty of time. Pray let me admire you a moment."
"You may admire me all you please at the theatre; but as I don't often go, I want to see everything. Let us be off!"
Georgette was already on the landing. Monsieur de Mardeille followed her, saying to himself:
"She has a little will of her own that can't be resisted! But to-night, when we return from the theatre, I flatter myself that she won't dismiss me so quickly."
It was still broad daylight when Georgette left her room, handsomely dressed and on Monsieur de Mardeille's arm. All the neighbors were at their windows; it is unnecessary to say that their tongues were in motion.
"The ex-beau carries the day!" said the photographer; "he is rich and fashionable, and such advantages seduce these little girls, who are immensely flattered by hanging on a dandy's arm."
"And then, he's very good-looking still," said the miniature painter. "I can understand that he may have taken the little one's fancy. These girls have a surprising taste for mature men."
"The Lovelace of the first floor must have put out some money," said the two men of letters; "he's dressed the little neighbor from top to toe. Women can always be caught by flattering their coquetry."
"And we couldn't offer her all that!"
"It's very strange! this Mardeille has the reputation of being a stingy curmudgeon with women."
"That's a report that he spreads himself, so as to get all the more credit."
The young doctor said nothing; he simply sighed, as he thought:
"She hasn't even had a cold!"
Monsieur Bistelle was furious, for she had received his bouquets and had not received him, and had met all his propositions with a refusal, although they were most alluring. And so, when he saw Georgette pass in her new attire, he cried:
"Bah! cheap stuff! Why, that shawl isn't a cashmere, nor even a Lyon; that dress isn't silk; that bonnet didn't come from one of our leading milliners! It's all trumpery; anyone can see that at a glance. I'd have dressed the girl a hundred times better; she's a fool to prefer that Mardeille, who never knew what it was to be generous to a woman!"
This gentleman did not reflect that he himself was very ugly, whereas his rival was still very comely; but that is one of the things that one never considers. Moreover, we are so accustomed to our own faces that we never deem ourselves unattractive.
Even Monsieur Renardin, the old bachelor, made a very pronounced grimace when he saw Georgette pass; especially as Mademoiselle Arthémise, his maid-servant, did not fail to say, with a sneer:
"See, there goes your flame on the arm of the Joconde of the first floor! I advise you to send boxes of candied fruits to such hussies! The shirtmaker snaps her fingers at you."
"In the first place, Arthémise, you're talking nonsense; that young woman didn't receive any candied fruit from me, as you ate it all."
"Thank God! I was on hand to stop it as it passed—or else she would have got it. It's very lucky that I ate it, you see. I suppose you think that mincing thing would have put the box on her head to go out with you, don't you? Oh! she's a sly one! She's bleeding the ex-young man of the first floor; she's quite right, for he's a skinflint with women, they say; he's getting what he deserves."
Monsieur de Mardeille escorted Georgette to the Ambigu-Comique. He tried to take her to a small, dark box, but she refused to enter it, and he was obliged to take a seat in the balcony with her. There it was impossible to take the slightest liberty! As some consolation, our gallant kept trying to whisper words of love in the girl's ear, but she soon said to him impatiently:
"Please be kind enough not to keep talking to me! You prevent me from hearing the play, and I suppose that is what people go to the theatre for."
Monsieur de Mardeille bit his lip and said to himself:
"There's nothing so idiotic as these girls who have never been to the theatre! I won't bring you very often, I can tell you!"
The play amused Georgette immensely, but was exceedingly tedious to her escort, who was overjoyed when it came to an end. He suggested returning home in a cab; but the girl refused, she was absolutely determined to go on foot.
"But it's beginning to rain!" said Monsieur de Mardeille.
"Well, it will cool us off!"
"But your new bonnet—won't the rain fade it and ruin it?"
"What a terrible misfortune, if it is spoiled! There are other bonnets in the milliners' shops!"
"I wonder if she thinks I am going to buy her one every day!" thought her companion, with difficulty restraining an outburst of temper; for he was obliged to return on foot, while Georgette, leaning on his arm, talked of nothing but the play and the actors she had seen.
They reached home at last. Monsieur de Mardeille had impatiently awaited that moment. He flattered himself that it would mark his final triumph. They entered the house in which they both lived. In front of the concierge's lodge, which was at the foot of Monsieur de Mardeille's staircase, Georgette stopped and said, with a graceful courtesy:
"Bonsoir, monsieur! a thousand thanks for the pleasure you have given me by taking me to the play."
"What's that? Bonsoir?" cried Mardeille, with a smile. "But I am not going to bed yet; and you will allow me to come up and chat a moment with you, will you not?"
"Oh! no, monsieur! for I am going to bed, and this is no time for conversation."
"Going to bed? What difference does that make? I won't prevent you; indeed, I shall be too happy to assist you in making your toilette de nuit."
"I don't need anyone to assist me. If I did, I wouldn't resort to a man for that purpose. Bonsoir, monsieur!"
"Oh! I say—this is a jest! Surely, my charming neighbor, you don't mean that you won't receive me in your room a moment?"
"To-morrow, monsieur, to-morrow during the day, I shall be greatly flattered to receive a call from you, if you choose to come; but at this time of night it would be very improper."
With that, Georgette nodded and ran across the courtyard to her own staircase, leaving Monsieur de Mardeille, utterly taken aback, in front of the concierge's door. He was nonplussed by the girl's conduct.
"This is too much!" he said to himself; "she accepts my presents—a whole toilette, which cost me a pretty penny—and she's just as cruel as she was before! So the young lady is making sport of me, is she?"
But suddenly, the courtyard and staircase being still lighted, he saw the concierge in his lodge watching what was going on; whereupon our dandy struck his forehead, saying to himself:
"What an idiot I am not to understand! That child has a hundred times more tact than I have! She doesn't want the concierge to see me go up to her room at midnight; for that would inevitably spread a report through the whole house that I had passed the night there! Yes, of course that's it; she's quite right; she has pointed out to me clearly enough what I have to do: go up to my room and pretend to go to bed; then, when everybody's asleep, and the gas is all out, go downstairs and steal up to her room, where I'll wager that I shall find the door unlocked as usual. There is my path all marked out for me: now I must follow it."
Monsieur de Mardeille went upstairs, purposely making a great noise. He entered his room, slammed the door, ordered Frontin to undress him, and then dismissed him with strict injunctions to go to bed at once. Half an hour passed, the gas was extinguished, there was no light to be seen in any of the neighbors' rooms, not even Georgette's.
"That girl thinks of everything!" thought Monsieur de Mardeille. "She is prudence personified: she has put out her light. Very good! Darkness makes one more daring. I must make haste; the propitious moment is here!"
And the gentleman stole from his room on tiptoe, enveloped in an ample robe de chambre, and with his jaunty cap on his head. He went downstairs, taking every precaution not to make any noise; he passed the concierge's lodge, where there was no light; darkness reigned on all sides, and as our seducer was feeling his way across the courtyard he ran against the pump; but that told him where he was; the door leading to the narrow stairway was close at hand; he found it and went upstairs, muttering:
"Here I am, at last!"
He soon stood in front of Georgette's door. He felt about on all sides; the key was not in the lock, and the door was securely fastened.
"She didn't think of leaving the key outside!" thought Monsieur de Mardeille; "that was an oversight. Perhaps it was from modesty, so that she might not seem to be expecting me. However, I must let her know that I am here. I'll knock softly; she can't be asleep."
And he gave two very soft taps, then a louder one, muttering:
"She doesn't hear! Can she have gone to sleep already? It's very strange; there's not a sound anywhere in the house, and she ought to hear! Damn the odds! I must wake her up! If other people hear, it will be her own fault."
And he knocked louder, then louder still, and shouted through the keyhole:
"Little neighbor! it's I! open the door a minute; I left something in your room. Come, charming Georgette, you've teased me enough; you must let me in; I have some very interesting things to tell you. For heaven's sake! just long enough to say two words to you, and then I'll leave you."
His trouble and entreaties were wasted; she made no reply, and the door did not open. After spending nearly three-quarters of an hour on Georgette's landing, the discomfited gallant angrily pulled his cap over his eyes and left the entresol, bumping against the walls.
To augment his rage, when he was in the courtyard he heard roars of laughter from several windows; and he recognized Mademoiselle Arthémise's voice, saying in a very loud tone:
"Ah! that's well done! The scented dandy's sold again! The little one makes fools of her lovers; that reconciles me to her! Ha! ha! now's the time to sing:
| "'Ma chandelle est morte, |
| Je n'ai plus de feu; |
| Ouvre-moi ta porte, |
| Pour l'amour de Dieu!'"[F] |
XIII
A BROOCH
Monsieur de Mardeille did not close his eyes that night. He was terribly vexed, and he awaited the morrow with extreme impatience, in order to have an explanation with the little shirtmaker, whom he proposed to reproach in no measured terms. He firmly believed himself to be in the right, because he maintained that in love one gives nothing without some equivalent.
At last the morning came; people began to stir in the house. Our dandy rose and looked at himself in the mirror. He found that he was horribly pale, that his eyes were red, and that he had a worn, jaded look. As he desired, before all else, to be handsome and fascinating, he passed more than an hour at his toilet, changing his cravat and waistcoat again and again; but he did not succeed in restoring his usual freshness of aspect. At last, weary of the struggle, he said to himself:
"A little pallor makes one more interesting; women like a melancholy air. That cruel girl will be touched by my evident suffering. Decidedly, it is much better for me to be pale; it gives me the advantage at the outset."
He betook himself to his little neighbor's apartment, crossing the courtyard as rapidly as possible to avoid the glances of the other tenants. This time the door was unlocked. Monsieur de Mardeille unceremoniously entered Georgette's room and found her already at work. She looked up at him with a sly smile, and said:
"Good-morning, monsieur! it's very good of you to come to see me. Pray sit down, and we will talk about the play."
But Monsieur de Mardeille did not sit down; he paced the floor excitedly, and rejoined in an angry tone:
"I didn't come here to talk about the play, mademoiselle!"
"Indeed? Very well, then we'll talk about something else."
"Mademoiselle—you sleep very soundly!"
"I? Oh! you are mistaken, monsieur; on the contrary, my sleep is very light; the slightest noise wakes me."
"The slightest noise? How did it happen, then, that you didn't hear the noise I made last night, when I knocked on your door for half an hour, and you did not deign to reply?"
"Last night? Why, I heard you distinctly, monsieur; much too distinctly, in fact!"
"Then, mademoiselle, why didn't you let me in?"
"Why? Because I didn't choose to; because I don't receive visits at midnight; because I considered the uproar you made at my door most unseemly!"
"Uproar? But if you had opened your door at once, I wouldn't have made any uproar!"
"True; but as I didn't choose to open it, you shouldn't have kept on knocking."
"Why, mademoiselle, it seems to me that I had the right to come to your room, that I might fairly expect to be admitted! When a woman accepts gifts from a man, it means that she consents—at all events, she shouldn't leave him at the door when he comes to see her."
"The right! the right!" cried Georgette, rising, and casting such an angry glance at Monsieur de Mardeille that he was thoroughly abashed. "Let me tell you, monsieur, that you are most impertinent, and that I ought to turn you out of my room at once and forbid you ever to put your foot inside my door again. The right! What do you mean, monsieur? Is it because you have sent me a few paltry rags that you presume to speak to me in this tone? Understand, monsieur, that I did you much honor by receiving your superb gifts! If you had not wanted to go out with me, you wouldn't have given them to me, I presume. So that you did it much more to gratify your own vanity than to please me. And monsieur imagines that, because of those gifts, I will open my door to him at midnight! and perhaps give myself to him and esteem myself too happy to be his mistress!—Why, you are mad, monsieur! Here are your presents. I don't want them; you may take them back! Look, this will show you how much I care for them!"
As she spoke, Georgette ran to her closet, took down the gown, shawl, and bonnet, threw them on the floor, and kicked them toward Monsieur de Mardeille, who was horrified and dared not move.
Having done this, the girl returned to her chair by the window, which was open as usual, and resumed her work, paying no further heed to her neighbor, who stood in the same spot as motionless as a statue.
Several minutes passed thus. The ex-beau had had time to reflect. He began by picking up the gown, the shawl, and the bonnet, and laid them all carefully on a table; then he went to Georgette and stammered confusedly:
"Mademoiselle—I was wrong—I was very wrong—I admit it!"
"It's very fortunate that you realize it, monsieur!"
"I should not have believed—or rather, I should not have hoped—— Certainly I do not attach any value to these gewgaws that I sent you; it wasn't on account of them that I knocked at your door last night; but I thought that you were touched by my passion for you, that you no longer doubted it—that was what led me to come here and knock last night, after the theatre. Forgive me, I beseech you, my dear neighbor; don't be angry with me; it would make me too unhappy."
"As you admit your wrongdoing," Georgette answered, with a smile, "I forgive you. Oh! I am not one who bears malice! I say at once what I have on my heart; then it's all over and I think no more about it."
The old beau took the girl's hand and respectfully put it to his lips. She withdrew it and pointed to a chair, saying:
"Now sit down, and let us talk about something else."
"Something else!" murmured Monsieur de Mardeille as he sat down. "When I am with you, it is hard for me to refrain from telling you of my love. Does it make you angry?"
"No; but have you forgotten what I said to you?"
"Faith! it's quite possible, my dear neighbor; what did you say to me on that subject?"
"I told you that I did not believe in any man's love until he had given me proofs of it."
Her neighbor frowned, and faltered:
"Ah! yes—to be sure—I remember now—proofs. But I don't feel quite sure what you mean by that."
"Oh! monsieur, I should consider that I insulted you if I explained my meaning any further!" retorted Georgette, satirically. "If you don't understand me, so much the worse for you!"
"Did you enjoy the play last night?" hastily inquired Monsieur de Mardeille, anxious to change the subject.
"Yes, monsieur, very much. I would go very often, if I had the means."
"But if someone takes you, it's the same thing, isn't it?"
"No, monsieur; it isn't the same thing to be able to give one's self pleasure when one chooses, as to take it only when it pleases others to offer it."
"At all events, my pretty neighbor, when it is your pleasure to go again, I shall be at your service and delighted to escort you."
"You are too kind, monsieur.—Did you notice that lady in pink who was in a box on the stage last night?"
"In a proscenium box, do you mean?"
"I don't know whether you call it a proscenium box, but the lady I mean had a sort of crown of flowers on her head—and she was very pretty, too."
"Oh! yes, I remember—a lovely blonde. That was Irma, one of the women most in vogue at this moment."
"Do you know her?"
"Oh! as one knows a great many of the women one meets at all the balls at the Casino, at all the first performances—in short, at all the functions to which one can gain admission by paying for it."
"Is she married?"
"Married? the deuce! never!—As if those creatures ever married! She's a kept woman, that's the whole story."
"Ah! she's a kept woman. At all events, she is kept handsomely. She had a magnificent diamond necklace and brooch. For they were diamonds, weren't they, monsieur?"
"They were—or, at all events, they looked like it; but they may have been false. Nowadays, they make false gems that resemble real ones so closely that it's very hard to distinguish them. They're quite as handsome; indeed, they are often more effective, on account of the way they're mounted."
"False diamonds! how horrible! I should never be willing to wear anything false, myself!"
Monsieur de Mardeille looked at his watch, then rose, and said:
"How the time flies with you, charming Georgette! But I have some business at my broker's, and I have only just time to go there. So, au revoir, my lovely neighbor! You are not angry any longer, are you?"
"No, monsieur, no; I have entirely forgotten the past."
The ex-beau bowed and left her, saying to himself:
"She has forgotten the past! Therefore she has entirely forgotten that I gave her a complete toilette. She looks upon that as such a trifling matter! And now she's beginning to talk about diamonds! Oh! that is going too far! The little one has extravagant ideas! I wonder if she would like me to keep her like Irma? It's incredible! a shirtmaker wanting diamonds! The deuce! I didn't expect to encounter so many obstacles with a grisette; it never happened to me before! She talked with self-assurance! She's no fool, that's clear! And the worst of it is that, when she gets excited, her eyes have such fire and expression! She is enchanting! She's a little demon! But give her diamonds! never! never! I'd rather eat them!"
Several weeks passed. Monsieur de Mardeille continued his visits in the daytime to Georgette, who always had her windows open, whatever the weather. But he did not make the slightest progress in his love affair. When he tried to move nearer to the girl, she compelled him to remove his chair; if he tried to take her hand, she withdrew it; if he tried to place his hand on the little skirt, at which he gazed with covetous eyes, she pushed him away roughly, and exclaimed in her sternest tone:
"I won't have you touch my skirt; that is forbidden!"
Thereupon our gallant heaved profound sighs, to which she replied by laughing heartily, and by mischievous glances which made her prettier than ever; for, while confining her neighbor strictly within the limits of respect, Mademoiselle Georgette did not hesitate to employ all the little coquettish arts that make a man more enamored than ever and put the finishing touch to his distraction.
The result was that one day, on leaving Georgette, who had done nothing but walk about the room in her simple morning costume, Monsieur de Mardeille exclaimed:
"Well! I can't do anything else! I'll send her a little brooch—in diamonds—rose ones—something not too expensive; and yet it must be pretty; for if it isn't, I know her well enough to know that she is quite capable of making a fool of me again. Oh! these women! to think that I never spent a sou on them! And this little hussy has made me depart from my custom, and now I'm as big a fool as other men."
The next day, when he presented himself at his neighbor's door, Monsieur de Mardeille was amiable and lively and in high spirits; one would have taken him for a boy of twenty. Having taken a seat beside Georgette, he took a little pasteboard box from his pocket and handed it to her, saying:
"Allow me, my charming friend, to offer you this token, this proof, of my affection; and be assured that in offering it to you I do not consider that it gives me the slightest claim to your love; I desire to owe that to your heart alone."
"Good! that is very well said," replied Georgette, hastily opening the box, in which she found a little brooch, worth eight or nine hundred francs, and very effective.
"Oh! this is most gallant of you!" she cried. "Really, monsieur, you are coming on!"
"What's that? I am coming on?" thought Mardeille; "what does she mean by that? No matter! I won't ask any questions. This will touch her, and I am sure that to-morrow she will be the one to say: 'I expect you to-night.'"
"This is a lovely brooch," said Georgette.
"And you will deign to accept it?"
"Will I accept it? Most assuredly, monsieur, and I am very grateful to you."
"She is grateful for it; that's good!" said our seducer to himself; "the rest will go of itself. I won't commit the blunder of seeking payment now for my present; I'll go away, that will be more adroit.—I am obliged to leave you, my dear neighbor," he said, rising.
"Already, monsieur?"
"That word is very pleasant in your mouth!—Yes—I have some urgent business to attend to. I leave you so soon with the greatest regret, but to-morrow, I hope, I shall be more fortunate."
"I hope so, too, monsieur."
Mardeille bowed most respectfully to the young woman; without even taking her hand. He took his leave, enchanted with what he had done.
"I have taken the right way," he thought. "Women are stubborn, as a general rule; to refrain from asking them for anything is enough to induce them to grant you everything. The little one is mine now!"
XIV
COLINET'S SECOND VISIT
On the day following the gift of the brooch, Monsieur de Mardeille, buoyed up by the sweetest hopes, left his couch with this thought in his mind:
"I will make a careful toilet, but I won't go to see my young friend too early; I must let her wish for my coming. After breakfast I will go to my window, and I am sure that Georgette will beckon me to come to her. Yes, that is the more adroit way."
Monsieur de Mardeille breakfasted slowly; he enjoyed his coffee as, in anticipation, he enjoyed his coming triumph; at last, after glancing over several newspapers, he went to one of the windows looking on the courtyard, thinking that he had given her time enough to wish for his coming and that he would do well to show himself.
On opening his window he looked at once toward his little neighbor's, and saw a young man seated beside Georgette, holding both her hands and gazing at her most affectionately. Thereupon our gallant frowned, compressed his lips, and stared in dismay.
"Sapristi!" he exclaimed; "with a young man! She's with a young man, and she pretends to receive visits from no man but me! And this is her gratitude for my brooch! Ah! we'll see about this! I won't allow myself to be fooled in this way! I must find out who this young man is who holds both her hands, when I can hardly induce her to let me hold one."
The man whom he had discovered in his neighbor's apartment was young Colinet, whom we already know. His dress was almost exactly the same as he had worn on the occasion of his first visit to Georgette, except that his broadcloth trousers were replaced by linen ones, and that he carried a light switch instead of his stout stick. A much greater change had taken place on his face, however; in the intervening three months, his innocent, shy air had given place to one more sedate and thoughtful; it was still frank and open, but the artless expression had disappeared.
"Oh! how glad I am to see you, Mamzelle Georgette!" said Colinet, taking the girl's hands.
"And I to see you, Colinet! It makes me very happy, I can tell you! And you say that everybody at home is well—my father and mother and sisters?"
"Yes, mamzelle, I left them all in good health; and here's a letter that Mamzelle Suzanne, your second sister, gave me for you."
"Oh! give it to me, give it to me quick, Colinet!"
Georgette eagerly seized the letter that the young man had brought her; she broke the seal and read it to herself inaudibly; the expression of her face betrayed her deep interest in its contents. While Georgette was reading, Colinet looked about, apparently making an inspection of the room.
"It's very nice here," he muttered; "much finer than it was in the other place."
Having finished reading the letter, Georgette put it in her bosom, then smiled anew at Colinet, who said:
"Will that letter bring you back to the province?"
"Not yet, Colinet."
"Do you still enjoy yourself more in Paris?"
"It is not that, my friend; but I came here for a certain purpose; and I shall not leave Paris until I have finished what I have begun."
"Ah! you're doing some work here, are you?"
"Yes, my friend."
"And you won't tell me what it is? Perhaps I could help you."
"No, you couldn't help me; and it's better that I shouldn't tell you now what I am trying to do; but you shall know some day; yes, I promise you that some day you shall know everything; and you won't blame me, Colinet; on the contrary, I am sure that you will approve of what I have done."
"Oh! Mamzelle Georgette, I shan't blame you; for I know you, I do, and I know that you ain't capable of doing anything wrong. But, dear me! your head's a little—what do they call it down home?—a little solid; and when you've made up your mind to do something, why, you've got to do it."
"Mayn't one have a strong will, as long as it doesn't lead one to do wrong?"
"Yes, yes! Oh! you can have anything; but you used to thou me, and now I'm sorry to find that you've stopped doing it."
Georgette blushed as she replied:
"That is true, Colinet; but it ought not to hurt your feelings—far from it—for I don't like you any the less on that account. But it seems to me that I ought not to speak to you so familiarly as I used to when we were children."
"If you like me just as much, I ought not to complain; but I love you more and more every day, Georgette."
"Oh! so much the better! that's just what I want! Above all things, don't you ever change; for I count on your love, Colinet!"
"Oh! Mamzelle Georgette, can a man ever change when he loves you?"
"Kiss me, Colinet."
"With all my heart!"
The opposite neighbor did not see the kiss, because all this had taken place before he went to the window.
"What about that Monsieur Dupont I saw in your room so often when I was here before?" queried Colinet; "do you still see him?"
"No, Colinet, I don't see Monsieur Dupont any more."
The young man smiled. He seemed delighted to hear that; but his brow grew dark when Georgette added:
"No, I never see him now, but I do see another man."
"Ah! you have made the acquaintance of another man?"
"Yes, a very stylish gentleman who lives in this house; he comes to see me very often."
"Very often?"
"You'll probably see him very soon. Then, as I shall tell him, which is perfectly true, that you are an old playfellow of mine, don't forget that I am supposed to be a Norman."
"A Norman! But that isn't true; you are from Toul, in Lorraine."
"I know that very well, Colinet; but that is just what this gentleman mustn't find out; and, above all things, don't mention my parents' name before him—remember that."
"Why on earth do you make all this mystery with this man? You haven't ever done anything wrong, I know; so why do you conceal your family name, mamzelle?"
"You told me that you had confidence in me, Colinet."
"To be sure—I have it still."
"In that case, my friend, don't ask me questions that I can't answer now. I have told you that it will all be explained some day, and that ought to be enough for you."
"That's true, mamzelle; I was wrong to ask you questions; I won't say any more about it.—So you're a Norman, are you?"
"Yes; from a little village near Rouen."
"What's the name of the village?"
"The name? I haven't an idea; what difference does it make? any name will do. That man doesn't know all the suburbs of Rouen. Call it Belair—there are Belairs in every province."
"All right; and I'm a Norman, too, I suppose?"
"Of course."
"And may I still raise calves?"
"Why not? cattle are raised everywhere. Hush! I hear my neighbor coming upstairs."
Monsieur de Mardeille had crossed the courtyard like a rocket; he ran up the stairs without stopping for breath, entered Georgette's room like a shot out of a catapult, and, without even acknowledging the salutation of Colinet, who rose as he entered, he took his stand in front of the young woman and exclaimed in a hoarse voice:
"It is I, mademoiselle!"
"So I see, monsieur," replied Georgette, with a smile.
"You didn't expect me—that is to say, not at this moment, I fancy."
"Why not, pray, monsieur? I never expect you. You come when you please; neighbors don't stand on ceremony."
"Yes—but I thought—I didn't expect to find you with company, as you said you never received anybody but me."
The girl's face became grave and stern; she looked at Monsieur de Mardeille with a wrathful expression, exclaiming:
"Let me tell you, monsieur, that I consider that what you have just said is in the worst possible taste. If, up to the present time, it has suited me to receive no other visits than yours, you may be perfectly sure that it hasn't been from any desire to be agreeable to you."
"Mademoiselle, I——"
"Upon my word, to hear you, anyone would think that I am dependent on you, that you have some claim over me! You make me blush for you, monsieur!"
The ex-beau turned as red as a gobbler; he shuffled his feet about and tore his gloves, but did not know what to reply.
"To-day," continued Georgette, "my old playfellow, the friend of my childhood, who has just come from our province to bring me news of my relatives, has called on me. He will always be welcome in my home. I was about to introduce him to you, monsieur, when you began to say such nonsensical things! You were not polite enough to acknowledge the bow my friend Colinet gave you when you came in. You know so well what is customary and proper, monsieur, that you will allow me to believe that you are not in your ordinary frame of mind this morning, and that something has happened to upset you.—Sit down again, Colinet, my friend."
Monsieur de Mardeille did not know where he was; Georgette's haughty glance had rooted him to the floor. At last, he turned to Colinet and made him a low bow; then he concluded to take a chair, muttering, as he did so:
"Yes, it is true, I have a sick headache this morning, a very bad one; it makes me feel wretched."
"All right! tell us that, and we will excuse you for being in an ill humor.—Colinet, my friend, are you in Paris for long?"
"Oh! no, Mamzelle Georgette; I can only stay one day; I must go back to-morrow afternoon."
The neighbor's face became amiable once more; he straightened himself up in his chair.
"What makes you in such a hurry, Colinet?"
"I have several places to stop at on my way back—to collect the price of cattle we've sold."
"Monsieur is a cattle raiser?" Mardeille inquired.
"Yes, monsieur; I deal in horned cattle mostly, because there's always a market for them."
"Yes, yes, it's an excellent business," said Monsieur de Mardeille.—Then he leaned toward Georgette and said to her, almost timidly:
"You're not wearing your brooch?"
"Well, I should think not—with my jacket!" laughed Georgette. "Is it customary to put on a brooch so early in the morning?"
"Have you got a chicken to roast?"[G] queried Colinet. "I'll help you, if you want; I know all about chickens."
Georgette laughed aloud, and Monsieur de Mardeille tried to do the same; but his laughter was not sincere.
"We're not talking about chickens, my dear Colinet, nor of the kind of broche you have in mind," said the young shirtmaker, when her merriment had somewhat abated. "Oh! I don't live so magnificently as that; my repasts are more modest. Still, my friend, if you will breakfast with me to-morrow, before you go away, I will have a sausage and a meat pie; with those and a good appetite, one can breakfast perfectly—isn't that so?"
"To be sure, mamzelle; I won't fail to be here."
"If Monsieur de Mardeille would like to join us, and doesn't consider our breakfast unworthy of him, he would give us great pleasure by accepting my invitation."
Our dandy's face became radiant. He bowed and said:
"Unworthy of me! A repast over which you preside! Why, on the contrary, it will seem delicious to me, and I accept your kind invitation with all my heart. But I will ask your permission to bring a few bottles of wine from my cellar; that will do no harm."
"Oh! bring whatever you choose; we are not proud; we accept whatever anyone offers us."
"In that case, my charming neighbor, it's a bargain; I will breakfast with you to-morrow. Meanwhile, I will leave you, for you may have a thousand messages to give monsieur for your relations and friends, commissions to intrust to him, and I should be very sorry to incommode you. Au revoir, my dear neighbor!—Bonjour, monsieur, until to-morrow!—At what hour do you breakfast, neighbor?"
"At ten o'clock, monsieur."
"Very good; I will be on time."
And the ex-beau retired, as well pleased as he had been furious when he arrived; a few words from Georgette had sufficed to effect this revolution in his humor; to be sure, she had a way of saying them which precluded the possibility of a reply.
After Monsieur de Mardeille had gone, Colinet seemed to be reflecting profoundly, and Georgette asked him:
"What are you thinking about, my friend?"
"About that gentleman who was here just now. How he spoke to you when he came in!"
"And you heard how I answered him."
"Oh! that did my heart good! Is that old beau making love to you?"
"Yes; but don't be alarmed, Colinet; he's no more dangerous to me than Monsieur Dupont was."
"I believe you, as you say so. But what made you ask him to breakfast with us to-morrow? I should have liked it better to be with you alone."
"And so should I, my friend; but I did what I thought it best to do, for I don't want to break with my neighbor yet, and that is what would have happened if I hadn't invited him. I am going to answer my sister Suzanne's letter now, and then write to Aimée. I'll give you the letters to-morrow."
"Then, I'll go out and do some errands; for you know how it is in the country: when anyone comes to Paris, people try to see who can give him the most errands to do. I promised to dine with some friends; so I shan't see you again till to-morrow."
"Come early, then, so that we can have time to talk a little before breakfast."
"Yes, Mamzelle Georgette. Oh! what a pity that we two aren't going to breakfast all alone together!"
"A time will come, Colinet, when we two shall often be alone; but perhaps you won't be so anxious for it then."
"Ah! Georgette! you don't think that!"
The girl's only reply was to hold out her hand to her old playfellow. He squeezed it, then covered it with kisses; and Georgette was obliged to remind him of all his commissions before he could make up his mind to leave her.