Jeanne passed a somewhat restless night after her small scene with her
cousin, waking depressed and unrefreshed. Though she had carried matters
with so high a hand, and had scored so distinctly all around, she had
been more agitated than she had cared to show. She liked Enguerrand; and
more especially did she like his admiration for her; and that chance
allusion to Clairette contained possibilities that were alarming. In
embracing a professional career, she had never thought for a moment
that it could militate against that due share of admiration to which, as
a girl, she was justly entitled; and Enguerrand's views seemed this
morning all the more narrow and inexcusable. She rose languidly, and as
soon as she was dressed sent off a little note to the Mayor, saying that
she had a nervous headache and felt out of sorts, and begging to be
excused from attendance on that day; and the missive reached the Mayor
just as he was taking his usual place at the head of the Board.
"Dear, dear!" said the kind-hearted old man, as soon as he had read the
letter to his fellow-councilmen: "I'm very sorry. Poor girl! Here, one
of you fellows, just run round and tell the gaoler there won't be any
business to-day. Jeanne's seedy. It's put off till to-morrow. And now,
gentlemen, the agenda----"
"Really, your worship," exploded Robinet, "this is simply ridiculous!"
"Upon my word, Robinet," said the Mayor, "I don't know what's the matter
with you. Here's a poor girl unwell,--and a more hard-working girl isn't
in the town,--and instead of sympathising with her, and saying you're
sorry, you call it ridiculous! Suppose you had a headache yourself! You
wouldn't like----"
"But it _is_ ridiculous," maintained the tanner stoutly. "Who ever heard
of an executioner having a nervous headache? There's no precedent for
it. And 'out of sorts,' too! Suppose the criminals said they were out of
sorts, and didn't feel up to being executed?"
"Well, suppose they did," replied the Mayor, "we'd try and meet them
half-way, I daresay. They'd have to be executed some time or other, you
know. Why on earth are you so captious about trifles? The prisoners
won't mind, and _I_ don't mind: nobody's inconvenienced, and everybody's
happy!"
"You're right there, Mr. Mayor," put in another councilman. "This
executing business used to give the town a lot of trouble and bother;
now it's all as easy as kiss-your-hand. Instead of objecting, as they
used to do, and wanting to argue the point and kick up a row, the
fellows as is told off for execution come skipping along in the morning,
like a lot of lambs in May-time. And then the fun there is on the
scaffold! The jokes, the back answers, the repartees! And never a word
to shock a baby! Why, my little girl, as goes through the market-place
every morning--on her way to school, you know--she says to me only
yesterday, she says, 'Why, father,' she says, 'it's as good as the
play-actors,' she says."
"There again," persisted Robinet; "I object to that too. They ought to
show a properer feeling. Playing at mummers is one thing, and being
executed is another, and people ought to keep 'em separate. In my
father's time, that sort of thing wasn't thought good taste, and I don't
hold with new-fangled notions."
"Well, really, neighbour," said the Mayor, "I think you're out of sorts
yourself to-day. You must have got out of bed the wrong side this
morning. As for a little joke, more or less, we all know a maiden loves
a merry jest when she's certain of having the last word! But I'll tell
you what I'll do, if it'll please you; I'll go round and see Jeanne
myself on my way home, and tell her--quite nicely, you know--that once
in a way doesn't matter; but that if she feels her health won't let her
keep regular business hours, she mustn't think of going on with anything
that's bad for her. Like that, don't you see? And now, gentlemen, let's
read the minutes!"
Thus it came about that Jeanne took her usual walk that evening with a
ruffled brow and a swelling heart; and her little hand opened and shut
angrily as she paced the ramparts. She couldn't stand being found fault
with. How could she help having a headache? Those clods of citizens
didn't know what a highly strung sensitive organisation was. Absorbed in
her reflections, she had taken several turns up and down the grassy
footway before she became aware that she was not alone. A youth, of
richer dress and more elegant bearing than the general run of the
Radegundians, was leaning in an embrasure, watching the graceful figure
with evident interest.
"Something has vexed you, fair maiden?" he observed, coming forward
deferentially as soon as he perceived he was noticed; "and care sits but
awkwardly on that smooth young brow."
"Nay, it is nothing, kind sir," replied Jeanne; "we girls who work for
our living must not be too sensitive. My employers have been somewhat
exigent, that is all. I did wrong to take it to heart."
"'Tis the way of the bloated capitalist," rejoined the young man
lightly, as he turned to walk by her side. "They grind us, they grind
us; perhaps some day they will come under your hands in turn, and then
you can pay them out. And so you toil and spin, fair lily! And yet,
methinks, those delicate hands show little trace of labour?"
"You wrong me, indeed, sir," replied Jeanne merrily. "These hands of
mine, that you are so good as to admire, do great execution!"
"I can well believe that your victims are numerous," he replied; "may I
be permitted to rank myself among the latest of them?"
"I wish you a better fortune, kind sir," answered Jeanne demurely.
"I can imagine no more delightful one," he replied; "and where do you
ply your daily task, fair mistress? Not entirely out of sight and
access, I trust?"
[Illustration: "Au revoir, sir! If you should happen to be in
the market-place any morning."]
"Nay, sir," laughed Jeanne, "I work in the market-place most mornings,
and there is no charge for admission; and access is far from difficult.
Indeed, some complain--but that is no business of mine. And now I must
be wishing you a good-evening. Nay,"--for he would have detained
her,--"it is not seemly for an unprotected maiden to tarry in
converse with a stranger at this hour. _Au revoir_, sir! If you should
happen to be in the market-place any morning----" And she tripped
lightly away. The youth, gazing after her retreating figure, confessed
himself strangely fascinated by this fair unknown, whose particular
employment, by the way, he had forgotten to ask; while Jeanne, as she
sped homewards, could not help reflecting that, for style and
distinction, this new acquaintance threw into the shade all the
Enguerrands and others she had met hitherto--even in the course of
business.