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.
XV
A DAINTY BREAKFAST
At nine o'clock the following morning, Frontin carried to Georgette's
apartment a _terrine_ de foie gras, a small Reims ham, cakes, some
superb fruit, bordeaux, madeira, and champagne. The valet, remembering
the tone in which the shirtmaker had spoken to him, was as polite to her
now as he had formerly been impertinent.
Georgette received all these supplies with no indication of surprise,
whereas Colinet, who had already arrived at his compatriot's rooms,
opened his eyes in amazement and exclaimed:
"What! are we going to eat all that? Why, what a feast, Mamzelle
Georgette! what a feast! That gentleman must be head over heels in love
with you to send you so many good things!"
"Do you think that that proves his love, Colinet?"
"Well! it must prove something, anyway!"
"Yes, it proves that he would like to seduce me; for there are women who
allow themselves to be seduced through their appetite."
"Oh, yes! there are lots of 'em. Why, at home, there's Manette, who went
into the woods with Blaise for a plum tart! But you ain't one of that
kind, Georgette!"
"Not I! I will eat all these things, and my neighbor won't be any
further ahead. You won't forget to give my sisters the letters I gave
you, will you, Colinet?"
"I should think not! Do I ever forget anything you tell me? Especially
as Suzanne and Aimée are always terribly impatient to get your letters."
"I can believe it. Poor sisters!"
"Have you told them that you're coming home soon?"
"Not yet, my friend, not yet."
"Are you going to stay in Paris much longer?"
"Mon Dieu! I haven't any idea."
"And your mother, dear Maman Granery! Oh! she longs so for you!"
"My mother! Oh! Colinet, please tell her that I love her as dearly as
ever, that she will never have to blush for me, and that I---- But,
hush! I hear Monsieur de Mardeille."
The neighbor from the first floor entered the room, all smiles and
amiability and merriment. He presented his respects to Georgette and
slapped Colinet familiarly on the shoulder.
"Really, monsieur, you are very kind to us," said Georgette; "you have
sent us so many things! My poor little pie won't dare to appear beside
your gifts!"
"You are jesting, my dear neighbor! We will punish your pie with the
rest--eh, Monsieur Colinet?"
"Yes, monsieur, I ask nothing better."
"In that case, messieurs, let us begin."
They took their seats at a table which was not elegantly furnished, but
was exquisitely neat. Flowers took the place of the wonderful _surtouts_
which adorn the tables of the wealthy; and women have the art of
arranging flowers with so much taste, that they always achieve lovely
decorative effects with them. And then, too, Georgette did the honors of
the table without embarrassment or awkwardness; and lastly, she still
wore her little silk petticoat and her jacket, which made her
altogether fascinating.
"You will excuse me, monsieur, for not dressing for the occasion," she
said to her neighbor; "but I am more comfortable this way; and then I
should have been afraid of spoiling my beautiful gown."
"You are enchanting in this costume, my little neighbor; I should have
been terribly distressed if you had made your toilet.--Don't you agree
with me, Monsieur Colinet? don't you think that Mademoiselle Georgette
is very seductive in this charming négligé?"
Colinet was busy eating; however, he replied, shaking his head:
"I am used to seeing mamzelle like this! At home, we never dress up,
except for the church festivals."
"Where is your home, Monsieur Colinet?"
The young man glanced at Georgette, who guessed that he had forgotten
the name she had told him; so she replied for him:
"Belair, monsieur."
"Belair! I don't know of any town of that name in Normandie."
"It isn't a town; it's a village."
"Oh! if it's only a village, that makes a difference. Drink, Monsieur
Colinet. Are you fond of wine?"
"Yes, monsieur; especially when it's as good as this."
"And then, you don't drink much of anything but cider in your province,
I suppose?"
"Cider?"--And Colinet looked surprised; but Georgette kicked him, under
the table, saying:
"Why, yes! cider, of course. Cider is much more common at home--in
Normandie--than wine. So I advise you not to drink too much of this,
Colinet, for it would soon make you tipsy!"
"Oh! no, you need have no fear," rejoined Monsieur de Mardeille;
"natural wines never do any harm."
"Well! that's his business. But if you make him tipsy, he won't be able
to start for home to-day."
This suggestion from Georgette checked the ex-dandy, who was about to
fill the young man's glass, but reflected that it would be very foolish
to prevent the old playfellow from going away from Paris.
The breakfast lasted a long while; Colinet succeeded in retaining his
reason, while doing honor to the neighbor's wines. Georgette was careful
to change the subject when Monsieur de Mardeille mentioned Normandie.
When the clock struck one, the latter rose and said:
"I must go to the Bourse."
"And I," said Colinet, "must think about starting for home."
"A pleasant journey, Monsieur Colinet! We shall meet again, I hope."
"Oh, yes!" said Georgette; "you will certainly see him again."
When Monsieur de Mardeille had gone, Colinet said, with a sigh:
"He's luckier than I am, that man is; for he stays with you, and I am
going to leave you again!"
"No, Colinet, he isn't luckier than you, for I love you, and I shall
never have either love or friendship for that man."
"Ah! if that's so, you're right, I am luckier than he is! His breakfast
was mighty good! But, for all that, I'd rather have nothing but
potatoes, with nobody but you!"
"So would I, my friend."
"Then you ought not to have invited him!"
"Are you going to begin your questions again, Colinet?"
"Oh! no, no! forgive me; I'm done."
"Then kiss me and go; and kiss my father and mother and sisters for me."
"Oh! never you fear; I won't fail."
Colinet kissed Georgette and went away, weeping as bitterly as on the
previous occasion.
XVI
TWELVE THOUSAND FRANCS
About five o'clock in the afternoon, Monsieur de Mardeille returned to
Georgette's room, having seen her sitting at the window, alone.
"Well, so your young compatriot has gone?" he said, taking a seat by her
side.
"Yes, monsieur, a long while ago; almost as soon as you went."
"That young man seems to be very fond of you."
"Yes; he's a true friend."
"But isn't he your lover?"
"I have told you, monsieur, that I have no lover; and I can add, without
lying, that I have never had one."
"I believe you, my dear neighbor, I believe you; although it's a rare
thing to find in Paris a girl of twenty--for you are twenty, are you
not?"
"And six months, monsieur."
"And six months! that makes it all the more remarkable! A girl who is
virtuous and always has been. Oh! that is very pretty! But, after all,
I suppose that you do not intend to retain your--heart always?"
"I don't know, monsieur; one cannot tell what may happen."
"Bravo! very well answered!"
And Monsieur de Mardeille moved his chair nearer to Georgette's, and
murmured:
"And suppose circumstances should bring you in contact with a man who
adores you, whose happiness consists in making you happy,--like myself,
for instance,--then would you yield to him?"
"But women are so weak!"
"Ah! fascinating girl, I am the happiest of men! you fill my cup to the
brim!"
As he spoke, Monsieur de Mardeille extended his hand toward the little
black petticoat; but Georgette quickly moved her chair away and struck
him a smart blow on the fingers, saying in a very serious tone:
"Well! monsieur, what sort of manners are these? I have told you before
that I did not like that!"
The ex-beau stamped on the floor in a rage, crying:
"Sapristi! mademoiselle, so you propose to make a fool of me to the end!
You give me reason to hope that you will cease to be cruel, and then you
forbid me the slightest liberty! What does it all mean? Where do we
stand? I would like very much to know what to expect."
"I am not making a fool of you, monsieur; but what led you to think that
I was about to yield to you already?"
"Already! _already_ is very pretty, on my word! When I have been making
love to mademoiselle more than two months! when I have made great
sacrifices for her! I am not talking about the dress--that was a trifle;
but you seemed to want a diamond brooch, and I sent it to you
instantly. That was no trifle, allow me to tell you; and when a woman
accepts such presents----"
"She immediately becomes the mistress of the man who gives them; is that
it, monsieur?"
"Faith, yes! at least, that's the general rule."
"Well, monsieur, it isn't according to my ideas!"
"In that case, mademoiselle, what are your ideas, or rather your
demands? for, really, I don't understand you."
"Look you, Monsieur de Mardeille, do you wish me to explain myself
frankly? do you wish me to tell you what I have resolved upon?"
"Oh, yes! pray explain yourself! that will give me great pleasure!
Speak! I am impatient to hear you."
"Listen to me, then, monsieur. If I, being touched and flattered by your
present of a brooch, should yield to you to-day, as you claim that I
ought to do, what would happen, monsieur? This: that when your love, or
rather your caprice, was once satisfied--for, with most men of your
stamp, this ardent love is only a caprice----"
"Oh! can you believe----"
"Yes, monsieur, yes, I do believe it; indeed, I haven't the least doubt
of it; but let me finish, I beg.--Well! if I were weak enough, foolish
enough--let us not mince words--to cease to resist, then, in a month, or
two months, say three months, if you choose, you would have had enough
of your little grisette; she would bore you, and you would cease to see
her; more than that, you would avoid her as zealously as you now seek
her. So the girl is abandoned by the man to whom she sacrificed
everything, whose oaths she believed! And that man, after making her
unaccustomed to work by a life of idleness and dissipation, leaves her,
in most cases, with no resource against destitution! But even that is
not all! If the girl alone were unhappy, that would be much, no doubt,
but still she alone would be punished for her fault. It is not always
so. Often, too often, a wretched child is born of that passing
connection. Then the poor girl, who can hardly support herself by her
labor, has no means of supporting her child! Isn't that horrible? Ought
not one to shrink in dismay from such a terrible future?"
"Oh! mademoiselle, you are imagining chimeras! You are romancing!"
"No, monsieur, I am not romancing; I am simply stating what is seen,
what happens every day! And you yourself, monsieur, who claim that I am
inventing chimeras, be frank, if such a thing is possible, and tell me
if you never seduced and then abandoned a girl in the situation I have
just sketched? Think over your life, your love affairs, your numerous
conquests, and tell me, monsieur, if you are quite sure that such a
thing never happened to you?"
Monsieur de Mardeille changed color; he rose, with a sullen expression
on his face, and paced the floor, muttering:
"Mon Dieu! mademoiselle, my numerous conquests, my adventures, aren't in
question here. I can't go over everything that has happened to me; it
would take too long. Besides, I don't remember."
"Say, rather, that you don't choose to remember."
"In heaven's name, let us drop this and return to you. According to what
you have said, if I understand you, you will not yield to anyone----"
"Until he has placed me in such a position that I need have no fear of
poverty, and that I can support and educate my child--if I should have
one. Yes, monsieur, that is my firm and irrevocable resolution, and I
promise you that I shall not change."
The dandified neighbor made a horrible grimace, and continued to pace
the floor, mumbling:
"The devil! the devil! you look ahead, mademoiselle; you take your
precautions."
"Is that forbidden, monsieur?"
"No; but it's very uncommon--luckily. For you, love, sentiment, a man's
attractions--everything that ordinarily captivates a young girl glides
over your heart without stirring it. Sensibility is not your strong
point."
"Do you think so? And are you yourself so very sensitive, monsieur?"
"I am--to your charms, most assuredly. But my love does not touch you;
you are very cruel to me."
"I am less stupid than other women, that's all!"
"However, mademoiselle, if one must settle a fortune on you in order to
obtain your favors, you must understand that everybody can't afford to
indulge in such a passion."
"A fortune! Oh! no, monsieur, I am not so ambitious as all that; a
fortune is not what I ask, but simply the means to bring up the child
that is so often the result of a woman's fault."
"Ah! you have in mind only the result! But suppose there isn't any
result?"
"Why, then it will be for the poor girl herself, who will at least be
secure against want."
"Ah! it will be for the girl, if it isn't needed for the child! Very
good! You think of everything! You would make an excellent cashier for a
broker!"
"Why, I should not object to that. As a general rule, men earn more with
the pen than women do with the needle."
"That is why women don't look to their needle to satisfy their
coquetry."
"They have no choice, since they are forced to it."
"Nobody forces them to be coquettes."
"But you would be very sorry if they were not!"
Monsieur de Mardeille continued to pace the floor, humming between his
teeth:
"'When one knows how to love and please, what other boon can one desire?'
No, no! that song isn't appropriate!--
'A bandage covers the eyes of the god that makes men love!'
That is nearer the truth.--
'Come, lady fair, I await thee, I await thee, I await thee!"
Georgette went on with her work, as if he were not there. When he was
tired of singing, he went to the shirtmaker's side and said to her
abruptly:
"What ought it to cost for a child's porridge?"
Georgette replied, with a smile:
"Seek and ye shall find."
"Ah! now you are quoting the Gospel at me! But Saint Peter was scoffing
at us when he said that; for there's one thing that I have constantly
sought and have never found. I won't tell you what it is, out of respect
for your sex, but any man will guess my meaning. But I return to what I
asked you just now. It seems to me that with two or three thousand
francs one ought to be able to provide porridge in large quantities and
for a long time!"
"Do you expect a child to live on nothing but porridge?"
"That or something like it. A child eats so little!"
"But food isn't the only thing it needs. When it grows up, its education
must be attended to, mustn't it? and then, it must be apprenticed and
taught a trade. It must know how to earn its living, so that it can help
its mother when the time comes."
"Oh! tra la la! there's no reason why you shouldn't go on! Why don't you
ask me at once to buy a substitute for him if it's a boy, or to give her
a dowry if it's a girl?"
"Why, that would be no more than right!"
"Didn't I tell you, mademoiselle, that you demanded a fortune?"
"No, monsieur, you exaggerate. For it seems to me--yes, let us suppose
that there's a boy to be brought up--I am inclined to think that with
twelve thousand francs it might be done."
"Twelve thousand francs!"--And Monsieur de Mardeille jumped so high that
his head nearly struck the ceiling.--"Twelve thousand francs!" he
repeated. "Do you think that that is nothing, mademoiselle?"
"I think that it is no more than is necessary to make a child into a
man. Why, by putting that sum in the savings bank at once, one would
have a little income, which would keep increasing. Oh! you may be sure,
monsieur, that the mother would keep nothing for herself; but she would
at least be at ease with respect to her child's future."
"And as she would use none of that little income for herself, she would
still have to be supported, I suppose?"
"Oh! no, monsieur! That sum, once given, would be the whole; she would
accept nothing more."
The elderly beau began once more to stride back and forth, ejaculating
from time to time:
"The world is getting to be a curious place; it's a good school; one
learns something every day!--But women are becoming sharper and sharper!
We're nothing but children beside them! Twelve thousand francs! Why, not
long ago, a man might have had more than a hundred mistresses with that
money! I am not speaking for myself, for God knows I never ruined myself
for women! I always triumphed without untying my purse strings. I prefer
that way; at all events, I was sure that I was loved on my own account.
They didn't offer to break the bargain!"
"Do you know, monsieur, that these reflections of yours are not very
polite!" said Georgette, annoyed by his soliloquies.
"Why, mademoiselle, it seems to me that I might at least be permitted to
complain!"
"No, monsieur, you may not. You criticise my conduct! But if I choose,
monsieur, I should have to say but a word to make you blush for yours;
to force you to lower your crest before me and ask my pardon for all
your impertinence."
Monsieur de Mardeille stared at her and stammered: