Frédérique, vol. 2

"All right. Will you be kind enough to bring it yourself?"

"Certainly, monsieur."

"Don't be afraid; I won't receive you in my smoking room."

"So much the better! for, really, that smell of tobacco makes my head ache. I have the honor to salute you, monsieur!"

Georgette executed a bewitching little reverence, and the viscount said to himself as he looked after her:

"Pardieu! that little brunette must be mine, for she is really a most original creature!"

Edward de Sommerston did not believe what Georgette had told him on the subject of lovers; he was sceptical concerning the virtue of a girl who lived alone and worked for a living.

"This girl," he said to himself, "tries to pass herself off for a model of virtue so as to secure more generous treatment; that's a trick that doesn't fool me. She will submit like the others; for she's a woman, so she must love finery; that's the bait to catch them with."

On the day that Georgette had appointed, Edward, attired in a coquettish morning négligé, awaited the young woman in a pretty little salon which might at need have passed for a boudoir. He was smoking cigarettes, but had ordered them made of a very mild tobacco, in which there was a touch of perfume.

About noon, Lépinette announced: "Mademoiselle Georgette!" and the young woman appeared, still in her little morning costume.

"I beg your pardon, monsieur," she said, as she courtesied to the viscount, "for presenting myself in this négligé; but I have none too much time to work, and I never dress when I expect to stay at home."

"The hussy knows perfectly well that she is more alluring in this dress," thought Edward, "and that is why she comes in her short petticoat. If she weren't so well built, she'd be all bundled up in clothes. We know all about that. Mademoiselle Georgette desires me to admire her good points; therefore, she desires to please me."

And the young man, without stirring from his couch, pointed to a chair and said:

"Take a seat, I beg! You are very attractive thus. Besides, one doesn't dress to call on a neighbor. Will it annoy you if I continue to smoke?"

"Oh! I didn't come here to interfere with your pleasures, monsieur."

"This tobacco is very mild, and the odor is not disagreeable, even to people who don't like tobacco."

"Have you been good enough to remember my cigar case?"

"Here it is, monsieur."

And Georgette handed him a lovely little affair, lined with silk.

"Why, this is delicious! it's an admirable piece of work!" cried Edward.

"Do you like it? So much the better!"

"I should be very exacting if I did not like it. The colors of the little diamonds are blended perfectly. You have no less taste than talent. And it took you only three days to make it?"

"That was quite long enough."

"It should be worth fifty francs, at least."

"No, that would be too much; I am content with the price I told you."

"But in that case you earn less than five francs a day, for you have to buy your wool and your silk."

"Oh! if I earned five francs a day, that would be too fine; I should be too rich!"

"So you are not ambitious, eh? You have no desire to change your position?"

"Hum! that depends. To change it for a short time would hardly be worth while. Sometimes I have had dreams: at such times, I see myself in a superb apartment; I have diamonds and handsome dresses, a carriage, and servants to wait on me; oh! it's magnificent!"

"I understand the moral!" said Edward to himself. "We would like to obtain all those things! The damsel seems to be decidedly calculating!"

"Do you know that you're nobody's fool, my dear?"

Georgette supported his stare and his question without the slightest trace of emotion; she simply rose from her chair and said:

"I am very glad that you have so good an opinion of me, monsieur."

"Pray keep your seat; do you think of running away already?"

"Yes, monsieur; for I don't pass my time doing nothing, myself; I can't afford it."

"One moment—let us talk a little. In the first place, you can't go away till I have paid you."

"Oh! I am not worried! I'll trust you."

"You might make a mistake.—Do give me a few seconds. It affords me much pleasure to talk with you."

Edward took her hand, and she consented to resume her chair; whereupon he seated himself very close to her, saying:

"Shall I tell you something?"

"What is it?"

"I am in love with you!"

"Ha! ha! ha! what folly!"

"It may perhaps be folly! But, whatever it is, it's the truth all the same! Yes, I am in love with you. That rather surprises me; for I haven't been able to fall in love for some time past. It must be that there is in you something—I don't know what—more enticing than in other women. Look you! I verily believe, God forgive me! that it's your little petticoat that has turned my head!"

"Hum! you scamp! No, that would not be enough for me! I want the petticoat and all it contains!—What a sweet little hand!"

"Oh! monsieur, don't touch me, I beg! I have told you before that I don't like such manners."

"That is true; I keep forgetting that you are a vestal! I am so unaccustomed to meeting such!"

"Oh! you have a very bad opinion of women! Surely you must have met some virtuous ones, whom you seduced and then deserted, like the others!"

"It is possible; I don't remember. With me the past is always in the wrong."

"Oh! I am sure of that! That is why it is necessary to take precautions for the future."

"What an amusing creature! Do you [tu] know that you [tu] are most amusing?"

"I forbid you to thou me, monsieur. You have no excuse for doing it."

"Because you are not my mistress yet? That is true; but you will be before long; it amounts to the same thing."

"No, monsieur, I shall not be your mistress. I tell you again not to talk to me in that way; if you do, I shall go away and not come again."

"Come, come, be calm, Mademoiselle Georgette! you shall be treated respectfully. Tell me, darling, you will take me for your lover, won't you?"

"No, monsieur."

"What! Am I so very disagreeable to you?"

"Oh, no! it isn't that."

"Oho! as long as it isn't that, then you will listen to me."

"Somebody has been telling you fairy tales. I won't say that I love forever. Pardieu! my fair, if we did not leave them, they would leave us. Someone must begin, and I prefer that I should be the one."

"You have a way of settling matters which doesn't cause me to change my opinion about you. You are too much run after, too popular in good society, to attach yourself to a grisette!"

"There's some truth in what you say! You argue well, my charming friend; but allow me to tell you that I've had my fill and more of great ladies, and that I am absolutely indifferent to what people may say and think of me."

"I don't believe you.—Adieu, monsieur! I must go home."

"Oh! I don't let you go until I have an answer from you."

"Later—we will see."

"Then you will come again to see me? By the way, I must have two more cigar cases; I want them to give to my friends. Meanwhile, let me pay you for this one."

And the young man took a purse full of gold from his pocket and tossed it into Georgette's lap. She looked at it for a moment, then weighed it in her hand, and said:

"What is this?"

"It's what I owe you."

The pretty creature opened the purse and amused herself by counting its contents.

"But you are going to make me two more; that will pay for them all."

"Oh! no, monsieur; I can't accept so much; I will take what is due me, but no more."

As she spoke, Georgette took fifteen francs in gold from the purse, which she proceeded to place on the table. Then she ran from the room, crying:

"Adieu, monsieur le vicomte! I will come again when your cigar cases are done."

Edward was so surprised by the girl's abrupt departure, that he did not even think of detaining her.

As may be imagined, Georgette's refusal to accept the purse of gold had not diminished in the least degree the rich young man's caprice for the maiden; on the contrary, it was certain to intensify it, as she who had adopted that course of action well knew. The desires that are quickly satisfied last but a short time; our passions do not increase in force and deprive us of repose altogether, unless they encounter obstacles in their path. Good fortune that comes of itself—bah! no one cares for that! It is an unseasoned dish.

"My dear fellow, you have some new passion on the brain," said Florville; "I would stake my head on it!"

"Oh! that is visible to the naked eye," added Dumarsey. "We have a new intrigue on hand, which is waxing warm."

"Faith! messieurs, you have guessed right!" replied Edward. "Yes, I have a very violent fancy. Deuce take me! I believe I am really in love!"

"Really! Is she so very pretty?"

"She's better than pretty; she is piquant—enchanting!"

"Did you see her at the Bouffes?" inquired the simpering Lamberlong.

"At the Bouffes? Oh! she never goes there, I can promise you that!"

The red-haired worthy made a wry face.

"A woman who never goes to the Bouffes!" he murmured; "mon Dieu! what sort of a creature can she be?"

"I say, Edward, what style of woman is your new passion?"

"What style? Oh! the most modest that you can imagine; but I adapt Boileau's verse to women:

"Ah! this time I have to do with a little minx who is not so easily brought to terms."

"Well! Edward, tell us when you will show her to us, as a proof that you have triumphed? I'll give you three days; is that enough?"

"Hum! I am not sure."

"Come, messieurs, let's do the square thing; we'll give him a week; and if, within a week, he doesn't invite us to dinner with his new conquest, why, we will assign him a place among the gulls.—Is it a bargain, Edward?"

"Yes, messieurs, within a week. I accept that proposition."

"If you bring your lady, we are to pay for the dinner; if you don't, you are to treat us."

"Agreed—within a week!—Oh! I hope to be on firm ground before that."

This agreement was made two days after the conversation which had resulted in Georgette's refusal of the purse containing five hundred francs.

When his friends had gone, the viscount said to himself:

"Now I must act. The little one refused gold—but gold doesn't take the eye like fine clothes. She had a magnificent outburst of pride. But this time I'll send her some things that she won't be able to resist."

The young man ordered his carriage and drove to the most fashionable shops. He bought a handsome shawl, silks and velvets for dresses, and even a pretty little bonnet which he considered well adapted to the face he desired to seduce. He returned home with his purchases, and said to Lépinette:

Lépinette took the handsome gifts in his arms with great care, and went to do his master's errand, while the latter sallied forth again to go to the races.

On returning home at night, the viscount's first thought was to ask his servant how his presents had been received. Lépinette replied, assuming a serious expression:

"Monsieur, I saw something to-day that I never saw before!"

"What did you see? You remind me of a sibyl."

"Well, monsieur, I saw a young girl, a mere working girl, who lives in an attic, refuse a cashmere shawl, velvets, silks—in a word, a magnificent outfit!"

"What! you saw that? Do you mean to say that Georgette——"

"Yes, monsieur; Mademoiselle Georgette refused your presents."

"Impossible!"

"It is true, monsieur."

"Then you must have gone about it awkwardly."

"No; monsieur is well aware that I am accustomed to such commissions. I spread the things out—the shawl on a table before that amazing creature's eyes; she let me go on at first, and watched me without saying a word; but finally she exclaimed: 'What am I to do with all this, monsieur?'—'Whatever you please, mademoiselle,' I replied; 'my master begs you to accept it all, and he presents his compliments and requests you to bring him the cigar cases to-morrow, even if they are not done!'"

"That's very clever of you! Go on."

"So that you brought back my presents?"

"I had to do it, monsieur."

"No, you weren't obliged to; you're a fool! You ought to have thrown them all on the floor and run away."

"I am sure that she'd have thrown them out on the landing."

"Well, suppose she had? we should have seen whether she would or not. However, she said that she would come to-morrow?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"Very good!"

"She will come to-morrow; I shall see her and find out why she refused my presents; for I had not as yet asked her for anything in exchange. To be sure, the request may be foreseen. Ah! Mademoiselle Georgette, you will not resist me forever! I believe that I am really in love with her! At all events, my honor is involved in the affair now. I must not be the one to pay for that dinner with my friends."

All night the viscount was haunted by the image of the girl who had refused his splendid gifts. He rose early, attempted to smoke, and threw away several cigarettes as soon as he lighted them. The things he had sent to Georgette, he ordered taken into the small salon; and as he gazed at the rich fabrics spread out on a couch, he said to himself:

"Perhaps she doesn't like these colors! But the shawl is lovely! No, that cannot be her reason. Can it be that she really means to remain virtuous? But there was that dream of hers, in which she imagined that she was very rich. The little minx has something in her head, and she will have to tell me what it is."

At last, about noon, Mademoiselle Georgette arrived. Lépinette ushered her at once into the small salon, where the viscount was impatiently awaiting her. She bowed to him, with a charming smile; while he, on the contrary, pretended to be sulky. He pointed to a chair, saying:

"Be seated, mademoiselle."

"Your cigar cases are finished, monsieur; here they are."

"Very well! but I am not thinking about them."

"My servant is an ass!—However, you are well aware that the cigar cases are only a pretext for seeing you. What is the use of beating about the bush, when one can speak frankly?"

"Why, no, monsieur, I didn't know——"

Edward pointed to the objects spread out on the couch, and asked abruptly:

"Why did you refuse those?"

"Why did you send them to me?" she rejoined, in the same tone.

The young man did not know what reply to make; he began to laugh, and finally exclaimed:

"Gad! one can never get the last word with you! Come, charming girl, let us play with our cards exposed—what do you say?"

"I don't know how to play cards."

"Oh! you know perfectly well what I mean by that. However, I will explain my meaning literally. I adore you."

"So you told me before."

"In love, one may be allowed to repeat one's self; indeed, that is one of its great charms. I was saying, then, that I adore you."

"And I say that I don't believe you."

"I will compel you to believe me. You don't expect to pass your whole youth without knowing what love is, do you?"

"I can't say, monsieur; but I have always heard that it isn't safe to swear to anything."

"A man always says that to the poor girl he is trying to seduce—but afterward——"

"I always keep my promises. In the first place, I will give you a pretty apartment, which I will furnish with taste. You shall have handsome clothes and jewels. I will take you to the play and to drive; you shall have a carriage at your disposal. I will pay all your tradesmen's bills, and in addition you shall have a thousand francs a month to spend.—Tell me, isn't that attractive?"

"Yes, indeed, most attractive! But how long will it last?"

"So long as you love me."

"You mean, so long as you love me; and you gentlemen who are able to gratify all your whims—your love affairs never last long."

"I have but one whim henceforth, and that is to please you. Well, Georgette, you have heard what I have to offer; you consent to make me happy, do you not?"

And the viscount tried to seize the girl's hand; but she hastily pulled it away.

"No, monsieur, no!" she replied.

"What! you refuse my offers?"

"I refuse them."

"In heaven's name, have you some ground for hating me? Do you detest me?"

"Not at all, I assure you!"

"Then it must be that what I offer doesn't satisfy you, eh? Well! tell me what you want—what you desire. In short, explain yourself, I entreat you!"

Georgette was silent for a moment, then said in a low tone:

"Oh! no, no! tell me; women are entitled to have caprices without number."

"Oh! this is no caprice; it is simply forethought for the future.—Monsieur le vicomte, how much do you think it would cost to bring up a little girl, from the cradle till she was about sixteen years old—that is to say, to make a woman of her?"

The young man stared blankly at her, as he replied:

"What in the devil does that question mean? what connection has it with my offers?"

"Much, I assure you. At all events, be good enough to answer; what is the probable cost of a girl's education, and her support—everything?"

"As if I knew! As if I ever paid any attention to such things!"

"No, I suppose you never have paid any attention to them; but, no matter! make a guess at it."

"Well! about three or four thousand francs, I suppose."

"No, monsieur, you're a long way off. I reckon that it would cost fully twenty thousand francs."

"Twenty thousand francs! Nonsense! that isn't possible! Twenty thousand francs for a child?"

"Yes, monsieur, when that child is a daughter; when one wishes to give her a good education, and to cultivate her talents until she is a woman grown. Really, monsieur, I should have said that you were more generous! Forty thousand francs a year is too little for your pleasures, and you think that twenty thousand is too much for bringing up and educating a woman, and assuring her of a bare existence! Ah! that's just like you men!"

"Well, monsieur le vicomte, if I should yield to your solicitations, as I might have a little girl, I want the means of bringing her up, of giving her an education; and as I have no faith in a seducer's promises, I want it—before I give myself to him.—Do you understand me now?"

The viscount was speechless with surprise; he frowned, moved his chair away from Georgette's, and muttered at last:

"Hum! all this means that you want twenty thousand francs before you surrender?"

"Yes, monsieur, that's it exactly."

"That's a little expensive, mademoiselle."

"It's not I who am expensive, monsieur," retorted the girl, with a glance of disdain, almost of contempt; "it's the little girl—the child."

"The little girl! the little girl! but you haven't one yet! Wait at least until you have it, before you make such a demand!"

"No, no! for it would be too late then, and I should be very sure of being refused."

"Do you think so?"

"I don't think so; I am certain of it."

As she spoke, Georgette fixed her eyes on the young man's face with such a meaning expression that he could not support it but lowered his eyes and faltered:

"In truth—it is possible."

After a brief pause, Georgette rose, saying:

"Adieu, monsieur!"

"What! are you going, mademoiselle?"

"I beg your pardon, but we have; only, your ultimatum requires reflection. Will you allow me to consider it a little?"

"Oh! as much as you please! You have compelled me to put my thoughts into words. It is a foolish idea; let us think no more about it."

"Why so? Unless you said it as a joke."

"No, I spoke most seriously; but I am fully persuaded that you will not make a sacrifice for me—of which I am not worthy."

"But I don't say that. Only, one hasn't such a large sum always at his disposal."

"There is no hurry, monsieur; we shall see each other again. Excuse me; I cannot stay any longer, I have work to do. Au revoir, monsieur le vicomte!"

Georgette eluded the grasp of the young man, who tried to detain her, and who exclaimed when she had gone:

"I suspected as much; she's a sly little fox, as cunning as a demon! As bright as she is mischievous! But, twenty thousand francs—all at one stroke! No, no! I won't make such a fool of myself for a grisette; that would be too absurd! With her talk about a little girl, she reminded me of that poor Suzanne, who had one, I believe. But what the devil am I mooning about? I'll go to the club and forget it all!"

The viscount went to his club, then to a friend's house, where there was sure to be high play. He tried to divert his thoughts, took a hand at baccarat, lost ten thousand francs at the outset, then wound up by winning three thousand.

Two days passed, during which the viscount did his utmost to avoid thinking about Georgette; but on the third day, being still haunted by her image, he rose early, saying to himself:

"Pardieu! I am a great fool to torment myself like this, when it rests entirely with me to obtain the pleasure I crave! After all, what do a few banknotes more or less amount to? I'll save money in some other direction. I may as well go to my broker and settle the matter. Besides, I am to dine with those fellows the day after to-morrow; it shall not be said that I had to pay for the dinner."

Edward called at his broker's and procured the sum that he needed by selling certain securities. He returned home, placed the twenty thousand francs in a dainty pocketbook, and, having ordered Lépinette to burden himself anew with all the things that he had previously sent to Georgette, said to him:

"Go up to that young lady's room; give her first this pocketbook, then all this finery, and ask her when I shall see her. Go; I propose to watch you from the hall; so no stupid blunders this time!"

The valet went up the two flights of stairs, and the viscount impatiently awaited his return. Lépinette's face was fairly radiant when he appeared.

"Well?" said Edward.

"The young woman opened the pocketbook. I was not inquisitive enough to look at what she was counting, but I think it was banknotes."

"She seemed delighted, and she said to me, with a most amiable expression: 'Please inform your master that if he can come up to-night, between eleven o'clock and twelve, it will give me great pleasure. I wish to thank him in person.'"

"Bravo! at last! tandem! denique tandem felix! Ah! I knew that I should attain my ends! And those fellows won't have the laugh on me!"

The young man was insanely hilarious. He instantly demanded cigarettes, which he had neglected utterly since he had had something to occupy his mind; then he went out to try to kill time.

He returned to his apartment at eleven o'clock, but had the patience to wait until midnight, so that he might not meet anyone in the hall. Then he took a candle, and ran quickly up the two flights. He had learned from Lépinette which was Georgette's door: it was the last on the right; there was no possibility of a mistake. The viscount soon found the door, and saw that the key was in the lock.

"She thinks of everything!" he said to himself; "there is no need of knocking, and I don't have to wait on the landing; it's well done of her."

He softly opened the door and entered the room, where it was absolutely dark.

Our lover seized the letter and hurriedly ran his eye over it.

The viscount stood for some time, lost in amazement, gazing alternately at the letter and the petticoat; but suddenly he burst into a laugh, saying to himself:

Toward the close of the month of September following, one fine day, about two o'clock in the afternoon, a gentleman was walking back and forth along the path in front of the monkey house at the Jardin des Plantes.

This gentleman was no other than our old acquaintance Monsieur Dupont, of whom we lost sight some time ago. We left him in the private dining-room, where he had dined with Georgette, who quitted him abruptly because he thought that he could easily triumph over a girl who had consented to dine with him alone at a restaurant; so that his bonne fortune was limited to the possession of a little striped petticoat which had been left in his hands.

Dupont had returned to his wife at Brives-la-Gaillarde. He had carried the little petticoat with him, but had been careful not to show it to his wife, who might have thought it strange that her husband should bring nothing back from Paris save a second-hand petticoat. However, Dupont had been much less inclined to sleep since his return; that was something in favor of the capital. From time to time, when he was alone, he took the grisette's little petticoat from its hiding place and gazed fondly at it, sighing as he remembered her who had worn it and to whom it was so becoming. On those days, Dupont was even less sleepy than usual, and his wife would say to him:

Finally, about the middle of September, Dupont received a letter thus conceived:

Dupont quivered with joy when he read this letter:

"The charming girl wants to see me again!" he thought "The petticoat is only a pretext; she regrets her ill treatment of me and means to reward my love at last. Yes, indeed; I will certainly keep the appointment she gives me."

He went to his wife, and said to her:

"My dear love, I must make another little trip to Paris. It is necessary for me to see Jolibois, and I believe that it will be good for my health too. I could hardly wake up this morning."

"Yes, my dear, yes, go to Paris," replied madame; "it can't help doing you good; but don't stay so long as you did the last time."

That is why our old acquaintance was walking in the Jardin des Plantes, on the designated avenue, on the 25th of September, feeling from time to time in the pocket of his full-skirted coat, in which he had bestowed the little striped petticoat he was requested to return.

Monsieur de Mardeille was very careful not to miss that appointment, for he was consumed by a longing to see Georgette once more.

"Perhaps she means to return the twelve thousand francs I was stupid enough to give her," he said to himself.

And having made a neat parcel of the little black petticoat, he put it in his overcoat pocket and betook himself to the place indicated in the note.

After a little time, a third personage appeared on the same path; this was the young Vicomte Edward de Sommerston, who had received a letter of precisely the same tenor as Monsieur de Mardeille's, except that he was requested to bring with him a white petticoat. As our young dandy was not inclined to carry a petticoat in his pocket, he was accompanied by a very diminutive groom, who carried the garment in question under his arm and had an abundant supply of cigarettes in his hand.

As these three gentlemen were walking back and forth along the same path, they soon noticed one another.

"Those two fellows are evidently waiting here for someone," thought the viscount, as he puffed at his cigarette.

And Monsieur de Mardeille made a similar reflection as he passed the other two.

Before long there was a smart shower. Instantly all the promenaders and monkey fanciers disappeared, except the three gentlemen with the petticoats. They continued to walk to and fro on the same path; and as there was no one else left there save themselves and the little groom, they could not doubt that they were all there by appointment. They began to smile as they passed one another; it was easy to see that they divined one another's motives for being there, and that they had at their tongue's end some such words as:

"How tedious this waiting is! Gad! if it weren't for a charming woman, I'd have gone away long ago!"

Dupont had been tempted more than once to enter into conversation with his fellow promenaders, but he had not dared.

"The time wouldn't seem so long, if I were talking with these gentlemen," he said to himself; "that would divert my thoughts and make it easier to be patient; but perhaps they are not in a mood for talking."

Suddenly Edward stopped and drew his watch. Monsieur de Mardeille did the same; whereupon Monsieur Dupont walked up to them, drew his own watch, and ventured to say:

"I beg pardon, messieurs, but will you allow me to ask what time you make it? My watch may be a little fast, and I should like to be certain of the time. I say twenty-two minutes past two."

"Faith! messieurs, we go better than Charles the Fifth's clocks," said the viscount, after consulting his watch; "I agree with you exactly."

"Didn't Charles the Fifth's clocks go well?" inquired Dupont.

"Don't you know that that monarch, after abdicating, cultivated a passion for clockmaking? He amused himself mending and improving clocks; he had an enormous number of them, and they went so well together that sometimes, as a reward of his labors, he had the pleasure of hearing them strike twelve for a whole hour!"

They laughed heartily over Charles the Fifth's clocks; then Dupont observed:

"I had a rendezvous for two o'clock, here in this path."

"So had I."

"And I."

"But women are never on time!"

"No, never!"

"Especially when they are young and pretty; they know that we'll wait for them."

"Yes, they are too anxious to make us long for them to come."

"As for myself," said Edward, "I propose to wait just five minutes more; but if Mademoiselle Georgette hasn't arrived at the half-hour, I am going away!"

"Georgette!" cried Monsieur de Mardeille.

"Georgette!" muttered Monsieur Dupont. "On my word! this is strange; it's a Georgette I am waiting for, too!"

"And I."

"That is the exact portrait of the person I am waiting for."

"It is the exact portrait of the Georgette who wrote to me."

"This becomes decidedly interesting!" said the viscount. "I have her letter here."

"So have I."

"And I."

"Let us compare them. Yes, it certainly is the same writing! Well, messieurs, I have a petticoat of hers here, which she left in my hands and asked me to bring back to her.—Tom! come here and show what you have under your arm."

The little groom drew near and unfolded the white petticoat; Monsieur de Mardeille and Dupont instantly took the petticoats out of their pockets, and exhibited them, saying:

"I also have brought her a petticoat."

"And so have I, as you see."

Thereupon the three gentlemen laughed so uproariously that the monkeys tried to imitate them. When their outburst of hilarity had subsided, the viscount said:

"Don't you believe that the girl has made fools of us by writing to us all to meet her at the same place?"

"I begin to think so," said Mardeille.

"And she made us come in front of the monkeys!" exclaimed Dupont. "She selected this place purposely."

"She certainly won't come; it is past the half-hour. I am going away."

"Wait a moment, monsieur; there's a lady coming in this direction."

"Mademoiselle Georgette didn't write us that she would come alone."

"I can't distinguish her features yet, for she has on a bonnet. But it isn't her figure at all. This one has an enormous funnel-shaped skirt."

"That's a hoopskirt—the latest fashion."

"Great God! how ugly she is! The Georgette I am expecting used to dress in such excellent taste! One could see how she was built."

"Still, the nearer she comes, the more I think that I recognize her."

"Why, yes, that's so! I would swear that it is she."

"It is she! it certainly is, messieurs. See, she's coming toward us! There's no doubt about it now."

It was, in fact, Georgette, dressed in good taste, but very simply, and wearing one of the skirts then in fashion, which transformed a woman into a sugar loaf. She was arm in arm with Colinet, who had entirely laid aside his artless, timid manner.

Georgette and her escort walked up to the three gentlemen, and the young woman bowed pleasantly to them, saying:

Colinet gravely saluted the three men, who returned his salutation.

"Did she send for us to introduce her husband?" they said to themselves. "That was hardly worth while!"

"I asked you to meet me in this garden, messieurs," continued Georgette, "because I know that there are paths here where very few people pass, and where we can talk as if we were at home. I see one on the other side of these flower beds, where we shall be very comfortable; will you have the kindness to go there with me?"

The three gentlemen bowed, and the whole party walked to a path, usually quite deserted, where there were benches. Georgette and her husband having seated themselves, the others did the same, and the little groom stood at some distance. Then the young woman turned to Messieurs de Sommerston and de Mardeille, and addressed them thus:

"A few words will suffice to inform you why I acted as I did with respect to you. In the first place, messieurs, I am neither from Normandie nor from Bordeaux; I am a Lorrainer; Toul is my native place; my parents, who are poor but honorable farmers, are named Granery; I am the sister of Aimée and Suzanne."

The viscount and Monsieur de Mardeille made a gesture of surprise and their brows grew dark when they heard those names; while Dupont thought:

"What has this to do with me?"

Monsieur de Mardeille hung his head and made no reply. Thereupon Georgette turned to the viscount:

"Faith! no," cried the viscount; "the play was well acted! You performed your part perfectly! Accept my congratulations, madame, together with this petticoat, which I hasten to restore to you.—Here, Tom! hand that garment to madame."

Monsieur de Mardeille did not seem to have accepted the inevitable so gracefully as the viscount; however, he realized that he must resign himself, and at least pretend to repent of his wrongdoing. Consequently, he said to Georgette:

"But why am I mixed up in this affair, madame, I who never seduced any of your sisters?"

"You, monsieur," replied Georgette, with a smile—"I took you at first for an honorable, loyal man, whose arm I could accept without fear, for I was alone in Paris. I did not then know the addresses of these gentlemen, which my sisters succeeded in obtaining for me later. I wanted to go to the play and to the fashionable promenades, hoping to discover, to meet there, the persons I was absolutely determined to find."

"I understand; you used me as an escort."

"Something like it, monsieur. As for your love, that didn't frighten me. When I learned that you had lied to me, that you were married, as it was a matter of perfect indifference to me, I might have forgiven you; but you attempted to take most unbecoming liberties with me! So then, monsieur, I left you without ceremony, abandoning in your hands a little petticoat—which you have brought to me, I hope?"

"Yes, madame, here it is."

And Dupont, hanging his head rather sheepishly, produced his little parcel and handed it to Georgette. She took it and gave it to her husband; then she rose, and, with a graceful courtesy to the three men who had been in love with her, said:

And, after bowing once more, Georgette took her husband's arm and walked away with him.

Her three ex-lovers looked after her, and the viscount exclaimed:

"Sapristi! what a difference between that huge funnel and the little petticoat that outlined her form so perfectly! Ah! if I had seen her dressed as she is to-day, all this wouldn't have happened!"

"Indeed, it wouldn't!" cried Monsieur de Mardeille; "indeed, it wouldn't have happened; I should still have my twelve thousand francs."

"I agree with you entirely, messieurs," said Dupont; "what a difference in her shape! And the change is not to her advantage! The idea of getting into that sugar-loaf affair, instead of letting us see her graceful outlines! Ah! madame! what a scurvy trick to play on us!"