EUGENIE’S WAITING-MAID.
“‘Charles Patterson, London,’ was the name of the occupant of No. 512,
Hotel du Louvre, Paris, and 512 was a small bedroom on the fifth floor,
and looked down upon the busy Rue St. Honore. Charles was a very fair,
girlish-looking boy, who, from the night he took possession of No. 512,
kept his room entirely, and was served in his apartment daily with
‘_cafe complet_’ and two eggs in the morning, and with ‘_bif-tek au
pommes_’ and _haricots verts_ for dinner in the afternoon. At first the
waiter had pointed significantly to the printed notice that having his
meals thus served would cost an extra franc, but Charles had answered
promptly, ‘_Je le sais_,’ and that had ended it, and he was free to eat
where he liked. Nobody noticed or thought of him again until the close
of the second day, when, as he stood looking down upon the street below,
and reading the strange names on the signs, there came a knock at the
door, and a servant handed in a card bearing the name of ‘Eugenie
Arschinard.’ The lady herself was in the hall near the door, and in a
moment was in the room alone with the young boy, whom she addressed as
‘Monsieur Sharles,’ and whom she regarded intently as he brought her a
chair, and then proceeded to light the one candle which the room
possessed.
“‘_Mon Dieu!_’ she began, in her pretty, half-French, half-English
style; ‘_vous etes un petit garcon! Mais n’importe_. You make a very
_joli_—what you call him?—waiting-maid _pour moi_. Ah! but you very like
_votre sœur_. Poor leetle madame!’
“‘Oh, tell me of Anna, please! Tell me all you know, and what I am to
do,’ Fred said, speaking in a whisper, as she had done, lest the
occupants of the adjoining rooms should hear what it was necessary to be
kept secret.
“‘Madame has a leetle babee,’ Eugenie said, and as Fred uttered an
exclamation of surprise, she continued: ‘It is so, _veritable_, but I it
not write, for fear to worry _la mere_. Both doing well, _petite_ mother
and babee, which makes a boy, and monsieur is—what you call it?—very
much up; _oui_, very much; but I hasten. Monsieur comes to find me
to-night _a diner_. I tell you all _toute de suite_.’
“Then very rapidly she communicated her plan for future action,
interspersing her talk frequently with ‘_Mon Dieu!_ you make so pretty
girl _Anglaise_, with that fair hair and those blue eyes. Nobody can
suspect.’
“And Fred followed her closely, and understood what he was to do, and,
after she was gone, wrote to his mother a full account of his adventures
thus far, and then waited with what patience he could command for what
was to follow.
* * * * *
“As will have been inferred, Eugenie was better. The nervous depression
and weakness had passed away, and, stimulated with this new excitement,
she had never looked handsomer than when she consented at last to
receive Haverleigh as a guest at her house. He had not seen her for
weeks, or rather months; for since the time she left Chateau d’Or, until
the day she visited Fred at the Louvre, he had not so much as heard the
sound of her voice, and this long separation from her, and seeming
indifference on her part, had revived his old passion for her ten-fold,
and when at last she wrote, ‘Come and dine with me this evening,’ he
felt as elated and delighted as the bashful lover who goes for his first
visit to his _fiancee_.
“He found her waiting for him, dressed with elegant simplicity, and
looking so fresh and young that he went forward eagerly to meet her,
with his usual gush of tenderness, but she stepped backward from him,
with something in her manner which kept him in check so that he only
raised her hand to his lips, and then stood looking at her and marveling
at her changed demeanor. And yet in most points she was not changed; she
would not suffer him to touch her, and she compelled him to treat her
with a respect he had not been accustomed to pay her in private; but
otherwise she was the same brilliant, fascinating woman, bewildering him
with her beauty and intoxicating him with her wit and sharp repartees.
“For the _le petite madame_ and _la petite garcon_ she made many
inquiries, expressing a strong desire to see them, and telling him that
as soon as the weather was more favorable she meant to go down to
Chateau d’Or for a little visit. To this Haverleigh assented, for he was
perfectly willing that Eugenie and Anna should be on terms of intimacy,
especially as the former pretended to believe in the lunacy of the
latter, and inquired now very anxiously how she was in her mind since
the birth of her child.
“‘A little better,’ Haverleigh hoped, and Eugenie continued:
“‘I mean some time this summer, say in June, to have her here at my
house for a little; the change will do her great good. You are willing,
of course, when it will please me so much.’
“The eyes which looked at him were very soft and pleading, and
Haverleigh could not resist them, and answered readily that Madame Anna
should certainly come up to Paris; that he should be glad to have her
come, especially as Madame Arschinard was so kind as to ask her. Then
Eugenie grew more gracious and captivating, and told him of her strange
sickness, which made her so nervous that she could not see her dearest
friends, but she was so much better now, and glad to have monsieur to
dine just as he used to do; then she told him as a great misfortune that
Elise, her waiting-maid, had left her, and that she had made up her mind
to advertise for an English girl to fill her place. She was _so_ tired
of the trickery of her own countrywomen that she wanted to try some
other nation; did monsieur think an English girl would suit her?
Haverleigh did not know, but advised her to try, and then the
conversation drifted into other channels until the elegant little dinner
was served.
“After dinner they drove to the opera, where Eugenie’s face was welcomed
back again by a score or more of lorgnettes leveled at her as she sat
smilingly unconscious of the attention she was attracting, and with her
mind far more occupied with the boy sleeping quietly in No. 512 than
with the gay scene around her.
“The next morning there appeared in the French journals an advertisement
for a young English maid, who could speak a little French, and before
night Eugenie had been interviewed by at least a dozen girls, of all
ages and sizes, wanting the place, but none of them quite suited. She
would wait a little longer, she said, hoping to get just what she
desired. The next day, at a very unfashionable hour, she drove to the
picture gallery at the Louvre, and bidding her coachman leave her there,
stationed herself in one of the halls of statuary, which she knew to be
less frequented than some others, especially at that hour of the
morning. And there she waited anxiously, now glancing through the open
door as a new comer entered, and again pretending to be very busy with
some broken-nosed or armless block of marble.
“Meanwhile Charles Patterson had settled his bill at the Louvre, and
with his traveling-bag, the only piece of luggage brought from home, he
passed from the court into the Rue de Rivoli, and crossing the street
walked rapidly to the gallery of the Louvre, where madame was waiting
for him. There were a few words spoken between them, and then both
walked across the grounds to the street which skirts the river, where
Eugenie called a carriage, and bade the coachman drive to a second-rate
furnishing house in an obscure part of the city, with which she had once
been more familiar than she was now. It was a tolerably large
establishment and supplied her with what she wanted, an entire outfit of
a good substantial kind for a young English girl serving in the capacity
of waiting-maid. There were several bundles, but Fred’s bag held them
all, except the round straw hat which Eugenie carried herself, closely
wrapped in paper.
“‘Drive us to the station St. Lazare,’ she said to the coachman, and in
the course of half an hour Fred found himself alone with his companion
in a first-class carriage, speeding along toward Versailles.
“Eugenie had spoken to the conductor, and thus secured the carriage to
herself and Fred so that there was no one to see them when they opened
the bag, and brought out one by one the different articles which were to
transform the boy Frederic Strong into the girl _Fanny Shader_, who was
to be Eugenie’s waiting-maid. For that was the plan, and with a little
shrug of her shoulders and a significant laugh Eugenie said:
“‘Now I go to sleep—very much asleep—while you make the grand toilet;’
and closing her eyes she leaned back in her seat, and to all human
appearance slept soundly, while Fred arrayed himself in his feminine
habiliments, which fitted him admirably and became him remarkably well.
Fair-haired, pale-faced, blue-eyed and small, he had frequently taken
the part of a girl in the little plays his school companions were always
getting up in Millfield, so he was neither strange nor awkward in his
new dress and character, but assumed both easily and naturally as if
they had belonged to him all his life, and when at last he said:
“‘I am ready; you can wake up now,’ and Eugenie opened her eyes; she
started in astonishment and wonder, for instead of the delicate boy who
had been her companion, there sat a good-sized girl, in a neatly-fitting
brown stuff dress and sacque, with bands of white linen at the throat
and wrists, and a dark straw hat perched jauntily upon the hair parted
in the middle and curling naturally. The disguise was perfect, and
Eugenie exclaimed delightedly:
“‘Oh, _Mon Dieu, c’est une grande success_. You make such _joli_ girl.
Nobody suspect ever. Now you must be _bien attentif_ to me. You carry my
shawl; you pick up my _mouchoir_, so;’ and she dropped her handkerchief
to see how adroitly the new maid would stoop and hand it to her. It was
well done, and Eugenie continued:
“‘You act perfectly—perfectly. Now you not forget, but walk behind me
always with the parcels, and not talk much with the other _domestiques_.
_Ah, ciel_, but you cannot, you cannot speak much French to them, and
that be good; but to me you speak French _toujours_; you learn it, which
must be better by and by when the great trial comes.’
“They were now near to Versailles, and, when the long train stopped,
Eugenie and her maid stepped out unobserved by any one; and as there was
an interval of two hours or more before they could return to Paris,
Eugenie spent it in showing her companion the beauties of the old Palace
and its charming grounds. And _Fanny_ was very attentive and very
respectful to her mistress, and acted the _role_ of waiting-maid to
perfection, though occasionally there was a gleam of mischief in the
blue eyes, and a comical smile lurking about the corners of the mouth,
as Fred answered to the new name, or held up his skirts as they walked
over a wet piece of ground.
“‘_Mon Dieu_, but your feet are much large for the rest of you,’ Eugenie
said, as she caught sight of his boots. ‘You must not show them so
much.’
“So Fred kept his dress down, and wondered how girls managed to walk so
well with a lot of petticoats dangling around their ankles, but behaved
himself, on the whole, with perfect propriety, and by the time Eugenie’s
residence in Paris was reached, had completely won his mistress’ heart.
It was past the luncheon hour, but Eugenie had chocolate and rolls in
her room, and Fanny served her with the utmost deference, and moved so
quietly and gently among her fellow servants that she came into favor at
once, and _la jeune Anglaise_ was toasted at dinner by one of the
footmen, who thought the new girl did not understand a word he said.
“It was two days before Haverleigh came to stop any length of time, and
then he came to dine, and by appointment.
“‘I shall ring for you to do something for me after dinner, and you will
be much careful,’ Eugenie said to Fred, who had never been so nervous
and excited as he was in view of the approaching ordeal.
“The stuff dress had been exchanged for a pretty calico, and the white
fluted apron which he wore had been bought at the _Bon Marche_. The
light, abundant hair was covered with a bit of muslin called a cap, with
smart blue ribbons streaming behind, and this, more than anything else,
made Fred into a girl—a tidy-looking maid, who stood with beating heart
in the upper hall, listening to the tones of Haverleigh’s voice, as they
came from the salon below. How well Fred remembered that voice, and how
his young blood boiled as he longed to rush upon the man and with all
his feeble strength avenge his sister’s wrongs. But he must bide his
time, and he waited till his mistress’ bell should summon him to her
presence, and that of his detestable brother-in-law.
“Haverleigh was in excellent spirits that night. Indeed he had been in
excellent spirits ever since the morning when he received the dispatch
from Chateau d’Or announcing the birth of a son. Whether it would ever
please him to have his wife fully restored to reason, and free to come
and go with him in his journeying was doubtful. It was a rather pleasant
excitement, having her at the chateau, where he could visit her when the
mood was on him; but to have her with him in Paris and Nice, and London,
where he wished to be free and untrammeled, was another thing.
“So Anna seemed likely to remain just where she was for an indefinite
length of time, unless he allowed her as a great favor to visit Eugenie
for a few weeks. But the son—his boy—was to be a great source of pride
and happiness to him, and he had already formed many plans for the
future of that son, and everything wore a brighter hue since that little
life began at Chateau d’Or. Then, too, Eugenie was latterly more
gracious in her demeanor toward him, and he had hopes that in time he
might be reinstated in her good graces, and as he had a genuine liking
for her, this of itself was a sufficient reason why he seemed so elated
and even hilarious as he sat once more at her table and basked in the
sunshine of her smile. To be sure she talked of Madame Haverleigh more
than he cared to have her, but then she had conceived a great friendship
for his wife, and it was for his interest to encourage it. So he, too,
talked of madame and her health, and answered Eugenie’s questions
regarding her family _en Amerique_. Was there insanity in the blood? Was
it a large family? many sisters? any brothers? and were they _nobilite_?
At this question Haverleigh winced, for he was not certain how much
nobility Eugenie would think there was in a shoe-shop, but he tried to
answer her readily, and said the family was highly respectable, not
nobility exactly, but good; that _la mère_ was dead—and here he did not
look straight at Eugenie lest the lie should show itself—that there was
a sister Mary, a stronger girl every way than Madame Anna, though not so
pretty, and a boy Fred, who was, or seemed to be, quite young, and of
whom he did not remember much; he was more interested in girls, he said,
and seldom took much notice of boys.
“Eugenie shrugged her shoulders significantly and as they had finished
their dessert led the way to the drawing-room, telling him as she went
that her advertising had been very successful, and brought her such a
treasure of an English girl, Fanny Shader, who was so nice and
respectable. Haverleigh cared nothing for Fanny Shader personally, but
if she interested Eugenie he must be interested, too, and he said he was
very glad madame was suited, and asked from what part of England Fanny
came. London was a safe place to come from, and so Fanny’s home was
there, and Eugenie said so, and fluttered about the salon until she
remembered that she needed a shawl, and rang the bell for Fanny.
“Haverleigh was standing with his back to the fire, looking straight at
the door, when Fanny came in, a flush on her cheek, but with a very
modest expression in her blue eyes, which never glanced at Haverleigh
but once. But in that glance they saw him perfectly from his head to his
feet, and knew him for the same haughty Englishman who had so ignored
Anna’s family in Millfield. Hating Haverleigh as he did, it was
impossible for Fred not to show something of it, and there was a sudden
gleam, a kindling, in his eyes, which attracted Haverleigh’s notice, and
made him look more curiously after the supposed girl than he would
otherwise have done. But there was not a shadow of suspicion in his mind
as to the personality of the stranger, and when she was gone for the
shawl he said, carelessly:
“‘And so that is the treasure? Nice, tidy-looking girl enough, but I
should say she had a temper, judging from her eyes; looks a little like
somebody I have seen.’
“Fanny had returned with the shawl by this time and so the conversation
regarding her ceased, and Haverleigh thought and said no more of her,
although she appeared several times during the evening in answer to her
mistress, who wanted an unusual amount of waiting upon, it seemed to
Haverleigh.
“‘She is certainly growing very nervous and fidgety, and I don’t much
envy that new girl her post as my lady’s maid,’ he said to himself, and
that was about all the thought he gave to Fanny Shader, whom for several
days he saw every time he called upon Eugenie.