has never been anything but kind to you, in such a way as this, without
even saying good-bye to him? A man who, when your mother was sick and
you hadn't a sou, gave you all that you needed to take care of her; a
man who has taken you into his family, with your mother, and quartered
you in this little chateau, where you are living like pigs in
clover--you yourself said so? Well! that would be pretty! and you talk
of gratitude, and this is the way you propose to treat your protector!"
"What difference does it make what he has done for me? He made Violette
so unhappy by turning her out of this house that she wanted to die, and
that she would have died without you!"
"As if he could have guessed that! You must see that this gentleman must
know Violette's parents, and that they have played some vile trick on
him, and that there's some deviltry in all this that we don't know
about."
"I don't care; I propose to go to Paris and ask her to forgive me for
suspecting her."
"So far as that goes, you will do well; but that ain't any reason for
leaving your protector, for behaving mean to him, and I don't
propose----"
"Hush! here he is!'"
Monsieur de Brevanne had returned from Paris. He saw the two young men.
He observed Georget's excitement and agitation, and, divining a part of
the truth, he went at once to his protege, and asked him, pointing to
Chicotin:
"Who is this young man?"
"He is a friend of mine, monsieur, an old comrade; he is Chicotin, whom
I've mentioned to you once or twice."
"Ah! yes, I remember. What does he want?"
"He came, monsieur, to tell me that Violette tried to throw herself into
the water, when she left this house after you had driven her away; for
it was she, monsieur, it was really she who came here, and you told me
that it wasn't.--Poor Violette! but for him she would not be alive, and
I--my mother would not have any son!"
Georget burst into sobs. Chicotin twisted his face and mouth, and did
his utmost not to weep with his friend. Monsieur de Brevanne, who was
deeply moved himself, tapped Chicotin on the shoulder, saying to him:
"You are a fine fellow; I shall not forget it."
Chicotin took off his hat and passed the back of his hand over his nose
and eyes.
"And you, Georget," continued the count, "you are very angry with me,
aren't you? But your young friend Violette has made her peace with me;
won't you do as she has done?"
"Violette! monsieur has seen Violette? Is it possible?"
"Yes, my dear boy, and to-day isn't the first time that I have tried to
express to her my regret for what had taken place. On the very next day
after her unfortunate journey, I went to Paris expressly to see her; but
she was not in her place; you must have noticed that I went to Paris
several days in succession."
"That is true, monsieur."
"It was always in the hope of meeting Violette; but I did not find her."
"Because she was sick, monsieur," cried Chicotin; "because she was
confined to her bed with fever."
"I know it, my boy; she told me all that just now; but she is in her
place to-day; and now she is not angry with me any more, and she hopes
that you will not be angry with her, Georget; for I told her that you
would go to see her; did I do right?"
Georget, who passed as quickly from wrath to affection as from sadness
to joy, seized Monsieur de Brevanne's hand and squeezed it violently,
crying:
"I was wrong to think that you were unkind, I ought to have known that
it was impossible. Oh! let me go at once to see her, monsieur, to ask
her pardon for thinking her guilty, to tell her that I have never ceased
to love her."
"To-day? Why, it is quite late."
"It is only four o'clock, monsieur, and at six I shall be in Paris; at
ten o'clock I will be back again. You will let me go, won't you,
monsieur?"
"As I made you unhappy, I must make up for it."
"Ah, monsieur!"
"Go; I will tell your mother that I sent you to Paris on an errand; do
not come back until to-morrow morning in order not to run the risk of
being on the road so late."
"Oh! thanks, monsieur, thanks a thousand times!--Come, Chicotin, let us
go."
"But I haven't had a chance to rest or to eat anything!" muttered the
young messenger, making a wry face.
"Come, come; I'll treat you to supper."
"_Fichtre!_ the bill of fare will have to be long then."
"Here, my boy," said the count, putting a twenty-franc piece into
Chicotin's hand; "here is something for your supper; I propose to treat
you, for Georget is quite capable of starting off without any money."
"Thanks, monsieur, we will have a little spree, eh, Georget?--Why, where
is he? Out on the road already! Bless my soul! he is capable of making
me run all the way to Paris."
Georget was going at the speed of a Basque; Chicotin succeeded in
overtaking him, however, and said as he trotted along beside him:
"We'll take a carriage at Vincennes. I have some money, for Monsieur
Malberg gave me twenty francs; there's a fine man for you!"
"Why take a carriage? we can go faster on foot."
"Oh, no! not much! and even if we could, is it worth while to use
ourselves up and arrive in Paris sick, or to be sick to-morrow? And
besides, what hurry is there now? You are sure to find her,--she won't
fly away."
"Ah! you are not in love, Chicotin! you don't know what it is to go back
to the girl you love; and it seems to me that I have been away from her
for years."
"Ah! there's a coucou.--I say, driver, two seats for Paris!"
"On the box, if that suits you?"
"I should say so; we adore the box."
The two friends mounted to the driver's seat. Each moment Georget was
tempted to seize the whip and lash the horse, which did not go fast
enough to suit him. The driver defended his horse and his whip, and
Chicotin's hands were full in trying to keep peace on their seat. At
last they arrived in Paris, and Georget said to his friend:
"Go to the wine-shop on the corner of Faubourg du Temple, and wait there
for me; then we'll have supper. Au revoir."
And he disappeared like a flash from the eyes of his friend, who said to
himself:
"Oh! run as much as you please now; I have no desire to follow you, for
I don't propose to ruin my liver."
Georget was not at all anxious that his comrade should go with him to
find Violette; when one has been parted for a long while from the girl
he loves, when one has been at odds with her, one desires to see her
again without witnesses; secrecy, aye, and silence, must preside at
that interview, for one speaks with the eyes as much as with the voice,
and any witness is a nuisance at such a blissful moment.
Georget drew near the Chateau d'Eau. It was flower market day, and
although the weather was already a little cold, there were still enough
people on the boulevard for the young man to approach without being seen
by Violette. He spied her at last, but there were two ladies in front of
her, selecting bouquets. So that he was fain to be content to look at
her, to devour her with his eyes. He drew nearer and nearer, keeping
behind her customers. Suddenly, as she raised her eyes, the young flower
girl saw Georget standing like a statue and gazing at her as a repentant
sinner gazes at a Madonna. Violette blushed and turned pale in quick
succession. But her young friend's eyes were so expressive, they
implored her forgiveness so eloquently, that the flower girl bestowed
her sweetest glance upon him, and being unable as yet to speak to him,
began to cover with kisses a small bunch of violets, which she then
proceeded to drop on the ground, and which was almost instantly pressed
against Georget's lips.
At last the customers went away, and Georget was able to approach.
"How happy I am to see you again, Violette! oh, how long the time has
seemed to me while away from you!"
"And to me too, Georget."
"Ah! I suspected you, Violette, I accused you! I know that I was wrong;
will you forgive me for thinking you guilty?"
"Yes, I forgive you, for appearances were against me; and even now you
have only my word for a proof of my innocence."
"That is enough, and hereafter I want nothing else."
"But I should like right well to force the man who slandered me to tell
the truth."
"Let us not talk of that now; I am so happy! I was dying of ennui away
from you, dear Violette. If you knew how I love you!"
"Mon Dieu! Georget, I realized that I loved you too, since your
desertion caused me so much pain and unhappiness."
"Dear Violette! what joy! you love me, you tell me so! there is no one
on earth happier than I am."
"And I am very happy too."
"I am eighteen years old now, Violette, and I can marry you."
"We have time enough, my dear, now that we are sure that we love each
other; can we want anything more?"
"We will be married, all the same; you will be my wife, won't you,
Violette?"
"What a question! when I refuse to be anybody else's!"
"Ah! it is nice of you to say that!"
"But it is growing dark; it is late, Georget; will you help me to close
my booth and carry my flowers away? As I have been sick and am not very
strong yet, I must not stay out late."
"You are right, you mustn't endanger your health. Give me all the
flowers, all the bunches you have left; I will carry them, and this tray
and the chair."
"Oh, no! I can carry something myself, Georget."
"Give them all to me, I beg."
"No, monsieur, for then I shall look as if I were lazy."
The two young lovers soon had the booth closed. Then they walked toward
Rue de Crussol, Georget never weary of gazing at Violette, and she
always smiling at Georget.
"So you have changed your lodging, have you?"
"Yes, I live here now, right up at the top; but it is very pleasant; and
then it is a very decent house. I have a little corner of the courtyard
where I keep my flowers, near a pump; it is always cool
there.--Good-night, Georget."
"What! are we going to part already?"
"You know very well that you can't come up to my room, Georget, you who
are my sweetheart; that wouldn't be proper."
"Oh! I have no idea of asking you to let me do that, Violette; but
suppose, after you have put your flowers in the yard, you would take a
little walk with me on the boulevard; we have been together such a short
time."
"All right, I will do it; but we mustn't walk long."
"A few minutes, that's all."
Violette went in to arrange her tray and her flowers; then she returned
to Georget, passed her arm through his, and they walked away, talking
together, looking at each other, pressing against each other, happier
than the great ones of the earth, happier than the millionaires, happier
than all those whom people envy; for true love and youth!--you would
seek in vain to find anything superior to these.
Meanwhile the evening advanced, and the two lovers, who had not begun to
weary of looking at each other, of squeezing each other's hands and of
repeating that they would love each other forever, could not make up
their minds to part. When Violette said: "I must go in," Georget
replied: "Just a minute more." When he expressed a fear that she was
cold, she reassured him by saying that the walk would do her good.
But Chicotin, who was not in love and who was dying of hunger, waited in
vain for his friend to join him at the place he had appointed. Weary of
waiting, Chicotin went to the flower market, but found no one there.
Then he went to Violette's abode, and asked the concierge if the young
flower girl had come home; and Madame Lamort informed him that, after
putting her flowers in their place, she had gone out on the arm of a
very young and comely man, saying that she would soon return.
Chicotin sat down on a carriage stone, muttering:
"For a convalescent, Mamzelle Violette is very imprudent, to walk about
so long after dark."
"That's what I told them!" cried the concierge. "But as Mirontaine
barked at that moment, I guess they didn't hear me."
Chicotin had been on sentry duty for half an hour, when Monsieur de
Roncherolle, on his way to his room, spied him and said:
"What are you doing here, my boy?"
"I am waiting for my friend Georget, who is walking with Mamzelle
Violette, bourgeois."
"Ah! so this Georget is----"
"The fellow who loves her so dearly, who suspected her of having gone
wrong, and who came to-day to beg her pardon, because I went to Monsieur
Malberg, your friend's, at Nogent, where he lives----"
"To Monsieur Malberg's; you mean the friend who came to see me on Rue de
Bretagne?"
"Yes, bourgeois."
"And who was the cause of my moving!--Look you, Chicotin, if you take it
into your head to mention me to your friend again, and to tell him that
I live in this house, I warn you that I will pull your ears so that you
can cover your nose with them!"
"Never fear, bourgeois; I won't mention you; I have no desire to force
you to move again."
"You will do well."
"Ah! here are the lovers coming back at last!"
"Then I will go up to my room."
"And I am going to supper! I am not sorry for that."
XL
MORE BOUQUETS
Six days after that evening, Monsieur de Brevanne returned to his rooms
in Paris, bringing Georget and Pongo. Worthy Mere Brunoy, who enjoyed
the country immensely and who was beginning to understand that her son
was becoming reasonable enough to be able to do without her, had asked
permission to remain at Nogent, where Georget had promised to go to see
her twice a week.
On the day following his return to Paris, Monsieur de Brevanne went to
see Violette and said to her:
"My dear child, I am going to give you an errand to do; it is not a
dangerous one, for it is a bona fide lady to whom I am sending you."
"Oh! monsieur, when it's you who send me, I will go wherever you
please."
"Well, it is another bouquet for you to carry; you will make a very fine
one, and go to Madame de Grangeville's, Rue Fontaine-Saint-Georges,
number 19."
"Very well, monsieur."
"That is not all; you will take the bouquet up yourself, and ask to be
allowed to hand it to the lady in person--in person, you understand; I
shall be very glad to have her see you. It is probable that she will
ask you from whom you come, and you will tell her that you do not know,
that it was a gentleman who sent you on the errand, with many
compliments from him. If she asks you to describe him, be very careful
not to draw my portrait--wait a moment,"--and the count, trying to
recall the features of Monsieur de Merval, continued: "You will tell her
that it was a gentleman, stylishly dressed, of distinguished bearing,
and medium height; who is no longer young, but who has almost the look
of a young man; of light complexion, with rather a red face.--Can you
remember all that, Violette?"
"I have not lost a word, monsieur."
"I am teaching you to lie, but under these circumstances I assure you
that it is excusable. Try to talk a little with the lady, but be very
careful never to mention my name in the conversation, and not to say
that you have been at Nogent."
"Very good, monsieur."
"If this lady should ask you any questions about yourself, about your
family, say simply that you are an abandoned child, that you have never
known your parents."
"When I say that, I shall not lie, monsieur."
"No; but say nothing more, do not mention the embroidered handkerchief,
and above all things, do not mention the name of Evelina de Paulausky.
Be sure, my poor girl, that I give you all these instructions in your
own interest."
"Oh! I have no doubt of that, monsieur; but,--forgive me for this
question--did this lady ever know my mother?"
"It may be that through her we may succeed in finding her; but to obtain
that result, it is necessary that she should know nothing at first of
any of the peculiar facts concerning you; that will seem to you most
extraordinary, no doubt, my child; but have confidence in me, and if you
still have a mother, I will restore her to you, yes, I will restore her
to you."
"Then you are not sure that she is still alive, monsieur?"
The count was silent for a moment, then replied:
"No, no; but go and deliver this bouquet, Violette, and forget nothing
of what I have enjoined upon you. On your way back from Madame de
Grangeville, come to my rooms, and tell me the result of your errand."
The count walked away. The young flower girl hastily made a bouquet of
the freshest and prettiest flowers in her stock. Then she set out for
Rue Fontaine-Saint-Georges, greatly surprised at the emotion which she
felt at having so simple an errand to do. But the injunctions of
Georget's protector led her to think that the person to whom she was
going knew the secret of her birth, and she said to herself that it was
that idea that made her heart beat so fast.
"Madame," said Mademoiselle Lizida, opening the door of the small salon
where her mistress was sitting, "there is someone here with a bouquet
for you."
"A bouquet! somebody has sent me a bouquet?"
"Yes, madame."
"Well, if it's that Savoyard again, from Monsieur de Roncherolle, I
don't propose to receive him; send him away, him and his bouquet; I
don't propose to have any further relations with his master. Bah! that
man disgusts me!"
"Oh! it isn't the messenger this time, madame; it's a very pretty young
girl, really very pretty, and the bouquet is magnificent. I am very sure
that it comes from someone else."
"Do you think so? that makes a difference; show the girl in."
Violette was ushered into Madame de Grangeville's presence; the flower
girl was agitated, trembling, and her cheeks were a brilliant scarlet;
but that emotion simply added to her beauty, and the baroness at sight
of her, exclaimed:
"Why, the girl is very pretty, really! very pretty, indeed!"
Violette made a curtsy and offered her bouquet.
"You have brought me a bouquet, mademoiselle?"
"Yes, madame."
"It is very handsome, very tasteful.--But from whom do you come? for I
must know to whom I am indebted for this attention."
"I do not know, madame."
"You don't know? Ah! you mean that you were told to keep it secret. But,
you know, between women such secrets should be transparent. Come, my
girl--why, she is really very pretty indeed!--who sends you? For of
course you did not come here of your own motion."
"Madame, it was a gentleman who came to me at my place, at my booth."
"Ah! so you are----"
"A flower girl, madame."
"And where is your booth? on Rue de la Paix?"
"No, madame, on Boulevard Saint-Martin, near the Chateau d'Eau; I sell
out of doors."
"Poor girl! an open air flower girl! what a pity, with that pretty
face!--But to return to our subject: a gentleman came to you and told
you to bring this bouquet?"
"Yes, madame."
"And he gave you no other message for me?"
"No, madame--that is to say, he said: 'You will also offer the lady many
compliments from me!'"
"From him? What sort of looking man was he? Did he walk with difficulty,
leaning on a cane?"
"No, madame, this gentleman had no cane, and he walked very well."
"So much the better! so much the better! you set my mind at rest.--About
how old was this stranger?"
"Why, he is no longer young, madame; and still he has the appearance and
manners of a young man."
"Ah! very good; I am on the track; he is a very stylish, well-dressed
man, is he not?"
"Yes, madame, he was very well-dressed; and his manner was very
distinguished."
"What is the color of his hair?"
"He is light-haired, with a rather red face."
"Enough! enough! I know perfectly now who it is."
And Madame de Grangeville, leaning toward her maid, who was behind her
chair, said in an undertone:
"It is he again, I was sure of it; it is Monsieur de Merval.--Well, what
are you looking at so attentively, Lizida?"
"I was looking at this girl, madame, and the more I look at her--why, it
is perfectly amazing! is it possible that you haven't noticed it,
madame?"
"Noticed what, pray?"
"This pretty flower girl--for she is pretty, is she not, madame?"
"Yes, very pretty indeed; well?"
"Why, madame, she looks like you, yes, she looks very much like you!"
"Do you think so?--Yes, there is in fact something in her features, in
her mouth--but I used to be prettier than she is!"
Violette blushed, and was sorely embarrassed when she saw that the
mistress and the maid were staring at her. As they said nothing more to
her, she curtsied again and murmured:
"Has madame any further orders for me?"
"No, mademoiselle.--By the way, I will ask you, if you see this
gentleman again, to thank him a thousand times for me, and to tell him,
that, in spite of the mystery in which he envelops himself, I recognize
him none the less, and I should be very glad to see him, in order to
express in person all my gratitude; can you remember all that, my girl?"
"Oh! yes, madame, I have a good memory; I shan't forget anything, I
promise you."
"Very good.--It is certain that there is a something about you--how old
are you?"
"Nineteen, madame."
"Nineteen!"
Madame de Grangeville seemed struck by that answer; she reflected a
moment, then answered:
"What! you are nineteen years old? You don't look it. Have you many
brothers and sisters?"
"No, madame, I am alone."
"Aha! and your mother sells flowers as you do, no doubt?"
"My mother--I don't know her, madame; I am a--an abandoned child."
Madame de Grangeville could not control an impulsive movement; but she
soon recovered herself, saying:
"How foolish I am! There are very many things in the world which
resemble one another in some details. The most amusing part of this is
that this girl looks so much like me; it is a mere freak of chance, for
the other, if she's alive, must be in the depths of Picardie."
Then, turning toward the girl, the baroness continued, aloud:
"Well, my child, you may go.--But, perhaps you have not been paid, and
you are waiting----"
"Yes, I am paid, madame; I was not waiting for anything but to be
dismissed."
"She talks very well.--Go then, and do not forget what I told you to say
to Monsieur de Merval."
"Monsieur de----?"
"How thoughtless I am, to mention his name! I meant to say, the
gentleman who sent you to bring this bouquet to me."
"I shall not forget anything, madame."
Violette took her leave, deeply moved by the interview she had had with
the lady, and wondering what there was in that commonplace conversation
to cause her such emotion. She went at once to the count's and found him
impatiently awaiting her; he made her repeat the conversation she had
had with Madame de Grangeville, to the slightest detail.
"What do you think of that lady?" enquired Monsieur de Brevanne, when
Violette had told him everything.
"I think that she is very good-looking, that is to say, she must have
been good-looking; her features are worn now--she is not young, is she,
monsieur?"
"No, certainly not. Was she pleasant and affable with you?"
"Yes, monsieur, she was very polite; but her manner was rather haughty."
"Very well, my child, go back to your flowers; next week you shall carry
another bouquet to Madame de Grangeville."
"Very good, monsieur; and must I let her think that that one too comes
from a Monsieur de Merval? For she is fully persuaded that it was a
gentleman of that name who sent me to her."
"You must be very careful not to undeceive her."
On leaving the count, the young flower girl met Georget, whom she told
what she had been doing, and who walked with her to her booth, saying:
"We have come back to Paris. Monsieur Malberg gives me writing and
figuring to do and sends me on errands; but that won't prevent me from
seeing you every day. I am so happy! every morning I will come to the
boulevard to bid you good-morning, and in the evening I will come to
help you carry home your flowers."
"I agree to that, Georget, but only on condition that it doesn't
interfere with your work. I haven't told you, but I believe that
Monsieur Malberg will help me find my family."
"Your family! what need of them have you now? Don't I fill the place of
your family?"
"But, Georget, a person is always very glad to have a family, and if I
still had a mother----"
"Your mother! as she abandoned you, it must have been that she didn't
love you."
"Who can tell? Perhaps she was compelled to."
"And if your family should prove to be rich, they wouldn't be willing
that I should be your husband perhaps. Look you, Violette, I prefer that
you shouldn't find anybody."
"What a child you are, Georget!"
"There is someone that I would like to find, myself! But I would treat
him as he deserves to be treated!"
"Whom are you talking about, Georget?"
"That Monsieur Jericourt, who laid that trap for you, and then went
about saying----"
"I beg you, Georget, let us say no more about that. You are convinced
that I am not guilty, aren't you?"
"Oh! can you ask me that, Violette?"