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."