very absent-minded to put 'em there."
X
AGATHE AND HONORINE
Chamoureau thrust his feet into his slippers, then ran to his office,
which was also his bedroom, and made haste to divest himself of his
Spanish costume, saying to himself:
"That infernal disguise has cost me dear! it has already caused me to
lose two clients, and I shall have to grease my concierge's paw to keep
from telling all over the neighborhood that I came home this morning in
Carnival costume after passing the night away from the house!--And then
he'll promise not to talk, and he'll tell everybody! Anyway, all the
neighbors saw me--the fruitwoman and the grocer.--Ah! this will be a
very bad thing for my business.--That was a vile trick for you to play
on me, Freluchon! Still, it is possible that he didn't do it purposely.
In his Pompadour's company, he probably forgot that he had his key in
his pocket. Now I have got to send all this stuff back to the costumer;
another messenger to pay! Gad! I spent a lot of money last night!"
Our widower heaved a deep sigh; but in a moment his face lighted up, and
the clouds that darkened his brow vanished. The memory of the pearl-gray
domino had changed the color of Chamoureau's thoughts from black to
rose; he rubbed his hands and reflected:
"I am an ungrateful wretch to curse this costume. Even if it has caused
me the loss of Monsieur Beaubichon's confidence--a trivial loss, for the
fellow would give me only twenty-five francs to arrange a good marriage
for him!--to make up for that, do I not owe to it the conquest of that
magnificent brunette--a fascinating woman! fine figure, fine waist--and
such features! _She_ wasn't afraid to show me her face! I am very
seriously in love with her.--Madame de Sainte-Suzanne! She must be a
great lady! What a pity that I am not of noble birth; but love knows no
distances, and the proof of it is that she urged me to come to see her.
Let's see where she lives: Rue de Ponthieu, Champs-Elysées quarter--the
swell quarter! the most _comme il faut_ quarter of Paris!--Freluchon and
Edmond laughed at me; but they would have liked right well to know my
conquest's name. I swore to be close-mouthed; that's a pity, for when
one has a beautiful mistress, she does me credit; but I promised.
To-morrow, about three o'clock, I will call on Madame de Sainte-Suzanne;
I will be careful about my dress. By the way, I hope Freluchon will send
back my clothes, he has my new coat.--Ah! I wish it were to-morrow now!"
Chamoureau sent his servant to the costumer's with the Spanish costume,
and told her to go thence to Freluchon's, inquire if he had returned,
and if so, to bring back his clothes; then, enveloping himself in his
dressing gown and stretching himself out in his great easy-chair, he
abandoned himself ecstatically to his dreams. He fancied himself already
at the feet of the glorious brunette, who had crowned his passion; he
drove with her in a calèche in the Bois de Boulogne, and his excessive
happiness finally put him to sleep.
The ringing of the door-bell roused the business agent. He remembered
that he had sent his servant on an errand, and that there was no one to
open the door. Making up his mind regretfully to leave his chair,
Chamoureau went to the door and instantly became wide awake when he saw
two ladies of most respectable appearance, and both very good-looking.
The elder lady, who seemed to be twenty-seven or eight years of age, was
of medium height, slender, perhaps a little thin, but exceedingly
graceful. Although her face was not very pretty, it was charming; her
blue eyes were at once soft and intelligent, her nose, slightly
retroussé, gave a touch of archness to her expression; her mouth was not
small, but it was not stupid either; her chestnut hair, which was combed
smooth and with care, formed a suitable frame for the face, which was
slightly pale and seemed to indicate delicate health.
Her companion, who was much younger, was evidently unmarried. She was a
lovely blonde, as fair and rosy and fresh as a bud just about to open;
her refined, regular features recalled the exquisite vignettes with
which the English embellish their _keepsakes_. Her great dark blue eyes
were almond-shaped, and shaded with long black lashes; a combination
rarely seen in a blonde; her mouth was garnished with a double row of
little pearls, and when she laughed, which she did very often, two tiny
dimples appeared in her cheeks. Her abundant light curls played about
that charming face. She was shorter than her companion, and constantly
looked up into her face with a sweet, affectionate expression.
They were not mother and daughter, for there was only ten years'
difference between them; but the elder was evidently a sincere and
beloved friend, and the younger almost a cherished daughter.
Chamoureau bowed very low, and the elder lady said to him:
"Is this the office of Monsieur Chamoureau, business agent?"
"Yes, madame, I am Chamoureau. Won't you be kind enough to step inside?"
The two ladies were ushered into the office, where Chamoureau offered
them chairs, and the elder continued:
"A person for whom you have done some business, monsieur, told me that
through your agency I might be able to find a small country house for
sale. I know that they are to be found in the _Petites-Affiches_; but I
thought that by applying to you, monsieur, I could obtain more precise
and definite information, and that you would undertake all the necessary
negotiations, which a woman does not understand."
"Certainly, madame, and with the greatest zeal, I beg you to believe. I
presume that madame desires to purchase a large house, a handsome
villa, with a view to passing the summer there?"
"No, monsieur, no, I do not wish to purchase a fine house; my means will
not permit it. I want a modest, unpretentious place, but as attractive
as possible, where we shall have everything that is necessary when one
lives in the country all the year round; for it is with that purpose
that I am looking for a house for my friend and myself, at some distance
from Paris."
"Ah! you intend to leave Paris altogether! Are you not afraid of ennui?"
"Oh, no! far from it, monsieur! we don't care at all for Paris, do we,
Agathe?"
"For my part, my dear friend, you know that I look forward with pleasure
to living in the country! to have a garden, flowers to care for, and
birds and hens--oh! it will be such fun!"
"I have two reasons for wishing to live in the country, monsieur: first,
my health, which is not very good, and the doctors say that the pure
country air will cure me entirely."
"Yes! yes!" cried the girl, taking her friend's hand, "I am perfectly
sure that you will soon be as stout as I, who am a regular little ball.
You won't have any more pains in your chest, you'll have a good
appetite, and we'll walk a lot and eat all day long! Oh! you won't be
sick any more, Honorine, I promise you; you'll get back your strength
and color and be in magnificent health!"
"I trust so, my child; at all events, we must always hope for what will
make us happy; the happiness we have in anticipation is sometimes the
only happiness we have at all.--But I haven't told you my second reason,
monsieur. Unfortunately it is one of those to which everything must give
way. It concerns the state of my purse. My means are very modest,
monsieur, and in order that they may be sufficient for our needs, that
we may have to undergo fewer privations, it is most important that we
should leave Paris, where it costs so much to live in these days!"
"Dear Honorine, if you didn't have me with you, if you lived alone, you
would be very comfortable, and you could have a lot of things which you
deny yourself in order to give them to me!"
"It is unkind of you to say that, Agathe. You forget that you are my
ward, my only companion; that you are a sister, a child, and a friend to
me, all in one! That, if I am able to be of some little service to you
as a guide, to protect you and to take the place of a family, your
mother once did as much for me, and that I am simply paying my debt by
giving you what I received from her. Lastly, what you forget above
all--and I did not expect to have to remind you of it--is that without
you, who have been for so long my faithful companion, I should be alone,
I should have no one to love, no one to whom I could tell my thoughts,
my memories, my dreams; no one to nurse me when I am sick; in short,
that I should be very unhappy! Now say that you are a burden to me!"
The young woman's eyes were wet with tears. Agathe threw her arms about
her neck and kissed her again and again.
"Ah! I was wrong, I was wrong!" she cried. "Forgive me, Honorine; you
know that I don't know what I am saying, that I speak without thinking,
I won't do it any more! Why, I know well enough that it would be as
impossible for you to part with me as for me to live away from you."
"Well, it's all over now; let us forget it and apologize to monsieur,
for we are wasting his time by forcing him to witness a scene which can
hardly interest him."
The young woman was very generous to apologize to Chamoureau, for he had
been paying no attention to their conversation for some time. He was
thinking only of his clothes,--of the new coat left at Freluchon's,
which Madame Monin did not bring back.
"I must have my coat to call on Madame de Sainte-Suzanne," he was saying
to himself; "for I certainly will not appear there in a sack-coat."
"Well, monsieur, let us come down to business," continued the young
woman. "Do you know of any modest house for sale in the outskirts of
Paris?"
"There are plenty of them, madame; but first of all, in what part of the
suburbs do you wish to live?"
"It makes no difference, monsieur."
"That will simplify matters."
"However, I should not care to live in one of those neighborhoods which
have become the rendezvous of equestrians and driving parties; for in
those places, if one leaves the house, one must dress as carefully as in
Paris. That is not what we want; we want genuine country, where there is
no formality, no ostentation, where one meets more peasants than city
folk."
"I understand; in that case, madame would not care to purchase at Passy,
Auteuil, or Enghien?"
"No, too many people go there."
"And the distance--is that a matter of indifference to you, also?"
"Yes, although I should not want to be too far from Paris; I may have
business there occasionally; and then, ladies must keep abreast of the
fashions, and if it were a long journey it would be tiresome and
expensive."
"Wait, madame; I believe that I have just what you want."
Chamoureau took down a pasteboard box, looked over some papers, and
read:
"'A pretty country house for sale on easy terms, at Créteil, on the bank
of the river.'"
"Oh! my dear friend, the bank of the river!--that's lovely!"
"Yes, but it isn't healthy."
"'Large house, six bedrooms----'"
"Oh! we don't need so many, monsieur!"
"'Billiard-room, stable, poultry yard, a garden of an acre----'"
"But the price, monsieur, the price?"
"Thirty-five thousand francs."
"That is too dear for me; I can hardly afford more than twenty
thousand."
"Let us see if we can find something else then. Ah! it just occurs to me
that a client of mine, who has just made a large amount of money on the
Bourse, is looking for a small château now, and told me to sell a
country estate of his a few leagues from the city, which is too modest
for his present circumstances. Let us see if that would suit you; I
imagine that we could get it at a bargain. I have a little memorandum
here that he gave me--yes, here it is; listen, madame.
"'A small house at Chelles, six leagues from Paris, near the main street
and just on the outskirts of the town. Ground floor, first floor and
attics; four rooms on each floor. A nice lawn in front, and yard behind,
with hencoop, pump and a large shed; a pretty garden entirely planted,
and a wall around the whole place.'"
"A garden all planted! Then we should have fruit. Honorine, I will be
the one to take care of the garden. Chelles--in which direction is
that?"
"Chelles, mademoiselle, formerly celebrated for its abbey, is just
beyond Montfermeil and the village of Couberon. It used to be a
heavily-wooded district, but I believe the wood has been pretty well
thinned out in the forest; however, there is still the Forest of Raincy,
which is not far away. They do some cutting there also, it is true, but
there will always be a little left. It's a very uneven, picturesque
country. You desire a country house where you will be free from anything
like etiquette; in that neighborhood you will imagine that you are a
hundred leagues from Paris."
"That place might suit us, but the price----"
"I beg pardon, madame, I have not read it all.--'The house is all
furnished, and the owner desires to sell it in that condition. Whoever
wishes to see it may apply to Père Ledrux, gardener and florist, who
lives nearby and has the keys; he is instructed to show the place. Père
Ledrux is well known in the town and anybody will point out his house.
The place will be sold for twenty thousand francs.'"
"Twenty thousand francs and all furnished. Why, that is just what you
wanted, Honorine!"
"I must say that it does not seem to me a high price. I know
Montfermeil--it's a delightful country."
"As I told you, mesdames, this is a rare chance. Do you pay cash?"
"Yes, monsieur, the whole amount in cash."
"Oh well! in that case perhaps we may be able to obtain a reduction in
the price; my client is very good-natured since he made a fortune,
wherein he doesn't resemble the majority of new-rich people."
"The next thing is to find out whether the house will suit me; you will
understand, monsieur, that I don't wish to buy it until I have seen it
and found out whether it is pleasantly situated, not too lonely, and
whether it has a good view."
"Very well, madame, you must go and see it. Chelles isn't far away;
there's a railroad station there; I think it's the Strasbourg line that
runs through the town, or very near it. You will be there in an hour;
inquire for Père Ledrux, gardener and florist, and he will show you
Monsieur Courtivaux's house--that is my client's name."
"Yes, yes, that's right; let us go to Chelles, Honorine, and see the
house. If you like it, we will buy it immediately."
"The weather isn't very inviting for a trip to the country; no
matter--if it's fine to-morrow, we will go there; and if the house suits
us, we will return, monsieur, and arrange about the purchase."
"If madame will kindly leave me her address, I shall have the honor to
call and thus save her the trouble of returning."
"Here is my address, monsieur; but if we see the house to-morrow, we may
not wait for you to call; especially if we like it, for we shall be in a
hurry to conclude the bargain, and we shall come to see you at once."
"As you please, madame; I shall always be at your service. Would you
like me to write the names for you--Ledrux and Courtivaux?"
"It's not necessary, monsieur; we have good memories."
Chamoureau escorted his new client to the stairs. When he returned to
his room he looked at the card she had handed him and read:
"Madame Dalmont, 40 Rue des Martyrs."
"Madame!" murmured the agent, "they are two ladies who live alone--one
unmarried; the elder is evidently a widow, unless she is separated from
her husband. An interesting and distinguished face, and most refined
manners. The young lady is exceedingly pretty! refined, regular
features--not red like most blondes; but with all that she doesn't come
up to my enchanting brunette, who expects me to-morrow between two
o'clock and five--at her hôtel.--Ah! I hear Madame Monin at last."
The servant returned without a sign of a bundle. Her master began at
once to question her.
"Well, Madame Monin?"
"I did your errands, monsieur; I carried the Spanish costume back to the
costumer, who said that monsieur had lost lots of spangles off the
cloak."
"Indeed! he proposes to count the spangles, does he? Skip the details.
Freluchon hasn't gone home, I suppose, as you haven't my clothes?"
"I beg your pardon, monsieur, your friend has been home, but he didn't
stay long; he just changed his clothes, and then went right away again,
saying to the concierge: 'I'm going to Rouen; I'll be back in four
days.'"
"What! he's gone to Rouen? that's a good one! But didn't the concierge
tell him that I had been there to get my clothes?"
"The concierge didn't think to tell Monsieur Freluchon till just as he
came downstairs. But he was in a great hurry then; a lady was waiting
for him in his cab and he drove right off. All he said was: 'That's all
right! Chamoureau won't need his coat; he's got plenty of others.'"
"On my soul! this is too much! Freluchon is a villain! If I only had him
here! Of course I have other clothes, but as one rarely has occasion to
wear a frock coat, I have only one; that's quite enough; and now, thanks
to Freluchon, I haven't that! I can't go to Rouen to ask him for his
key, especially as I shouldn't know where to look for him in Rouen.
Didn't he leave his key with the concierge?"
"No, monsieur, he didn't leave anything."
"A tailor will never have time to make me another coat for to-morrow; he
might promise it, but he wouldn't give it to me. What am I to do? To
call on that lady in a sack coat or an overcoat would be much too
unceremonious, especially for a first call! it would give her a very
poor opinion of my breeding. Well, there's only one thing for me to
do--go to a ready-made clothing house and buy a frock coat there. I
trust that I may find one that fits! It's an absolutely unnecessary
expense especially as I am still in mourning and shall have to get
another black one. Two black frock coats! how stupid! But a glance from
my charmer's eyes will recompense me; still, it's an infernally mean
trick for Freluchon to play me all the same."
And Chamoureau went out to buy a new coat.
XI
DRAWBACKS OF NEW CLOTHES
In a handsome apartment on Rue de Ponthieu a lady was putting the
finishing touches to one of those coquettish morning toilets which are
called _négligé_, but which are the object of quite as much art and
painstaking as full evening dress. Why should not ladies be as assiduous
to please in their own homes as in society? For my part, I believe that
that is their aim at all times, even when they expect no visitors; for
even then they seek to please themselves by looking into their mirrors.
In their own homes, you will say, they are not subjected to the fire of
a hundred glances, they receive only a few privileged friends; but these
latter, seeing their hostess at closer quarters, are able to examine her
in detail and at their leisure. So I say that much more care, much
greater attention to every detail of the toilet is necessary to produce
as much effect in the boudoir in the morning, as at a ball or the
theatre.
Thélénie, however, for it is the lovely brunette's apartment to which we
now introduce the reader, seemed absorbed by thoughts altogether
distinct from her toilet; and, after a careless glance at her mirror,
she dismissed her maid.
"That is all right, Mélie, I don't need you any more."
"Will not madame put something in her hair--not a single flower?"
"No, it's not necessary; I am well enough as I am, for the person I
expect."
"Oh! madame certainly does not need flowers to make her beautiful. When
one has such lovely hair as madame's, it is the loveliest of
head-dresses; but as madame sometimes wears a pomegranate flower or a
poppy----"
"I tell you that I want nothing more; leave me."
The maid left the room, and the fair Thélénie paced the floor a few
moments, then paused in front of a mirror, talking to herself all the
while.
"It was to please him that I wore a pomegranate flower in my hair; he
liked it; he said that the deep color of the flower blended beautifully
with my glossy hair. He called me his lovely Andalusian then; and now he
no longer loves me. Have I changed? Why, no, no; I am just as I was
three months ago, when I captivated him. As if one had changed in three
months, when one has not been sick! Oh, no!--But if this goes on, I
shall have changed in three months more: anger, jealousy and ennui will
have made ravages on my face. I shall have grown old and he will be the
cause of it.--False Edmond! Oh! what a fool I am to think of him still!
conceited little fop, who never loved me! And I, I who had never before
known a deep-rooted sentiment, who laughed in my sleeve at all the men
who sighed at my feet--by what fatality did I allow myself to be
bewitched by that little fellow?--After all, that love could never have
led to anything; on the contrary, it was a disadvantage to me; it kept
men away from me who might have made my fortune; and I want to be
rich!--I have no desire to imitate those women who, after dazzling Paris
by their magnificence and their follies, die at the hospital or become
box-openers at a second-class theatre.--I am in a position now to be at
ease in my mind concerning the future; I have got together about ten
thousand francs a year. That is something, but it isn't enough; I can't
have a carriage and a handsome place in the country on ten thousand
francs, and I want those things. Edmond isn't rich; he never gave me
anything; indeed, I believe it was that that made me love him! Mon Dieu!
what a fool I am! Of course I no longer love him, but that is an
additional reason for wanting to be revenged on him. He left me first;
that is one of those affronts which I never forgive."
The door-bell rang; a moment later the maid appeared.
"A gentleman wishes to see madame."
"Did he give his name?"
"Monsieur Cha--Chamoureau."
"Very well; show him in."
Chamoureau was in full dress; he had bought a new coat and trousers. The
coat was much too small in the armholes; the trousers were uncomfortably
tight around the waist and had straps under the feet; but our widower
was not sorry to have a genteel figure and to conceal a part of his
embonpoint. Anyhow, he could find nothing better at the ready-made
clothes shop the day before. A snow-white cravat and waistcoat completed
the agent's resemblance to a bridegroom; he lacked only the white
gloves, which were replaced by a pair of light yellow ones.
In this costume he had driven to Rue de Ponthieu in a cab, for he did
not propose that his clothes should be marred by the slightest speck of
mud.
"Madame de Sainte-Suzanne?" he said to the concierge with a self-assured
air; and as he went up to the second floor by a handsome staircase, he
said to himself:
"I must present myself with ease of manner; I must not be timid; women
like men with plenty of self-possession. Now, as this lady herself
invited me to call on her, it must be that she was pleased with me;
consequently, that being so, I can afford to be enterprising; she will
certainly forgive me. Damnation! this coat is infernally tight under the
arms; the dealer assured me that it would be all right, and it fits me
perfectly everywhere else. The waistband of the trousers rather takes my
breath away, and when I sit down, they're too tight; but I am much
thinner; the straps suit me better; I have almost no stomach at all. How
stupid it is to have a stomach at thirty-eight! I shall have to take
white mustard seed; they tell me that that makes you thin or fat, just
as you choose. Ah! this must be the door! My tie isn't rumpled; good!"
Although he did his utmost to be self-possessed, Chamoureau was
intensely agitated when he entered Madame de Sainte-Suzanne's apartment.
Seeing an immense room, elegantly furnished, contributed not a little
to increase his confusion, and as his feet sank into the soft carpet, he
said to himself:
"I made no mistake; she's a great lady--a person of the highest station.
The devil! I mustn't be enterprising at the start; this is no grisette;
I must proceed in due form."
Thélénie wore a sort of blouse of lilac plush, with a girdle about her
shapely waist. With that négligé costume, she wore no hoops, and the
soft, yielding fabric of the blouse seemed at times to be glued to her
beautiful hips, as if to disclose their perfect symmetry. Thus it was
easy to see that nature had favored her in every way, and she was a
hundred times more seductive than in one of those gowns which, being
worn over extravagantly large skirts, make a woman resemble a balloon.
The hoopskirt must surely have been invented by women with bad figures,
for those who have shapely forms lose far more than they gain by them.