"I will devote my whole time to you, mesdames."
But when the two friends had gone, Chamoureau, after sitting for some
time lost in thought, suddenly struck his forehead and exclaimed:
"I will see Monsieur Edmond Didier; he's a very enterprising young man
with the fair sex! In the absence of that villain Freluchon, who
confiscates my clothes, he will give me some advice--most excellent
advice."
The agent was really enamored of Thélénie; the lovely brunette's great
black eyes had turned his head; he did not cease for an instant to think
of her whom he had hoped for a brief moment that he had captivated, and
that passion caused him to forget absolutely the business which his
clients placed in his hands.
But Edmond Didier was rarely at home. Chamoureau was no more fortunate
in that direction than in respect to Freluchon. Thrice during the day he
went to Edmond's rooms and failed to find him.
"What is the use of friends?" thought our widower in despair; "they're
never at home when you want to consult 'em! What on earth do these
fellows do? What good does it do them to have a home? One's at Rouen,
the other goes out before ten in the morning and hasn't returned at
eleven in the evening! No matter! To-morrow will be the third day since
I called at Madame de Sainte-Suzanne's. I'll go again to-morrow--in a
_redingote_! One is not obliged to wear full dress all the time. She
doesn't want me to talk to her about love; I'll talk about the Boulevard
de Sébastopol which is being built--that can't offend her. But for lack
of words I'll try to make my eyes terribly eloquent; she can't prevent
my having love in my eyes."
And the next day, instead of going to see Monsieur Courtivaux and
attending to the business with which Madame Dalmont had entrusted him,
Chamoureau passed an hour at his toilet. He tried to scatter over his
forehead the tuft of hair that still embellished the back of his head,
and having assured himself that he had hair enough for a single man, he
perfumed his handkerchief with essence of Portugal and went to Rue de
Ponthieu.
When he reached Madame Sainte-Suzanne's residence, our widower, who had
been thinking all the way what he could say to the lady to account for
calling again so soon, and had found nothing satisfactory, walked
quickly through the hall, saying to himself:
"Never mind! I'll offer to take her to the theatre--whichever she
pleases--that can't offend her."
And he ran up the two flights without even speaking to the concierge. He
rang at Thélénie's door. The maid answered the bell, and could not help
smiling when she recognized the gentleman who had left her mistress in
such piteous guise, and torn in several places.
But our widower, who felt quite safe in his redingote and had no straps
to his trousers, walked with an exceedingly unconcerned air and held his
head erect with much dignity as he asked if Madame de Sainte-Suzanne
were visible.
"My mistress has gone out," replied Mademoiselle Mélie, with the pert
air which servants love to assume before courteous strangers.
"What! Madame de Sainte-Suzanne is not in?" exclaimed Chamoureau, in a
despairing tone.
"No, monsieur; madame has gone out; what is there strange in that?"
"I don't say that I think it strange; but it annoys me exceedingly."
"Had madame made an appointment with monsieur?"
"No; certainly she hadn't made an appointment with me; I did not presume
to say anything of the sort."
"Well then, monsieur could not be sure of finding madame, especially as
madame often goes out."
"Ah! she often goes out! then it isn't strange that I don't find her in.
But will she return soon? If so, I might wait for her."
"When madame goes out, she never says whether she will stay out long.
And then I must tell monsieur that she doesn't like to have anybody wait
for her; she doesn't want anybody to make himself at home in her
apartment when she isn't here."
Chamoureau bit his lip and stepped back.
"That makes a difference!" he murmured; "now that I know that it would
vex Madame de Sainte-Suzanne, I will not wait for her; but you will be
good enough to tell her that Monsieur Chamoureau came to pay his
respects to her. Sapristi! I regret that I did not bring a bouquet--I
would have left it. Will you remember my name--Chamoureau?"
"Never fear! If I should forget it, I would say: 'The gentleman who tore
himself from head to foot the other day called again.'"
"It seems to me quite unnecessary to recall that unpleasant incident. I
prefer that you should simply mention my name--Chamoureau."
"Yes, Monsieur--Chameau."
"_Fichtre!_ pray be careful! I didn't say Chameau; you must not confound
me with that beast of the desert with two humps. For I flatter myself
that I have never had one--although I am a widower."
"Monsieur is quite capable of it; but still a man sometimes wears one
without knowing it."
"Do you think so, mademoiselle? If that had happened to me, my wife
would have told me; she had no secrets from me!"[I]
"Oh! that makes a difference!"
"Understand, mademoiselle--Chamoureau, not Chameau."
"I will remember, monsieur."
And the maid, laughing in the gentleman's face, because he seemed to her
excessively foolish, was in the act of closing the door, when another
person appeared and hastily opened it again; then, elbowing aside
Chamoureau, who was still standing on the mat, he entered the
reception-room with the air of a master, and said abruptly:
"Is Thélénie here? I want to speak to her."
The agent raised his eyes to look at the person who had pushed him aside
so unceremoniously. He scrutinized him with the greatest attention when
he heard him ask for "Thélénie" simply, and not Madame de
Sainte-Suzanne. Such familiarity was most offensive to Chamoureau, and
when he saw that the man who indulged in it was fashionably dressed, he
was more incensed than ever.
We will not draw the portrait of the newcomer, as we have already seen
him at the Opéra, in the box of the lady whom he now asked to see. It
was Monsieur Beauregard who had applied to the lady's maid, and she,
suddenly become respectful, because he spoke to her in an arrogant tone,
hastened to reply:
"Madame is not in, monsieur; she went out about an hour ago with her
friend Mademoiselle Héloïse. I do not think that she will return to
dinner."
Beauregard walked about the reception-room, then looked the maid in the
eyes as he asked:
"Is it true that your mistress has gone out?"
"Yes, monsieur, it's the truth. But if monsieur wishes to go into the
salon and madame's bedroom, he will see that I have not lied to him."
"No, it's all right; as she has gone out, I'll be off."
"Will monsieur give me any message for madame?"
"No, what I have to say to her cannot be said by anybody else. I will
see her another time."
"If monsieur will tell me what day he will come, so that madame may wait
for him----"
"It's not necessary. I do not know myself when I shall come again."
And the gentleman with the yellow complexion, turning toward the door,
was about to leave the room, when he saw the business agent, who had
remained standing, like a milestone, on the mat, and was scrutinizing
him with an expression of mingled amazement and curiosity.
"Who's that?" Beauregard asked the maid, pointing to Chamoureau. And she
replied with a smile:
"It's a gentleman who came to see madame."
Thereupon Beauregard examined more carefully the individual on the mat,
and soon exclaimed:
"Ah! I recognize him; I know him now! He's the Spaniard of the Opéra
ball, who kept pulling up his long boots. Exactly! yes! that's just who
it is!"
Chamoureau overheard all this; but uncertain how to behave before that
person who had been eying him for several moments in a most impertinent
way, he decided to leave the mat and beat a retreat. He had already gone
downstairs, and was leaving the house, boiling over with wrath, when the
gentleman whom he had left on the second floor, and who had descended
the stairs behind him, appeared at his side.
Our widower had a very great desire to know who the man was who entered
Madame de Sainte-Suzanne's apartment so unceremoniously, and asked for
her by her Christian name simply. When he saw him so near, he ventured
to bow. Beauregard returned his salutation with an air of mockery,
saying:
"Your servant, monsieur!"
"Monsieur, like myself, has just come from Madame de Sainte-Suzanne's, I
believe?"
"Yes, monsieur, I have come from Thélénie's. The lady's name is
Thélénie."
"It is her Christian name, then?"
"As you say, it is her Christian name; didn't you know it?"
"No, monsieur; but, having known Madame de Sainte-Suzanne only a very
short time, that is not surprising."
"Why do you call her _de_ Sainte-Suzanne? She never had a sign of a _de_
before her name."
"Oh! I thought that she was of noble birth."
"You are very much mistaken. In fact, I don't think she is much of a
_saint_ either! So she ought to be called plain Suzanne; but that isn't
sonorous enough for her; so give her the _de_ if it gives you any
pleasure. I have no objection!"
"Has monsieur known the lady a long while?"
"Oh! yes, monsieur, a very long while."
Chamoureau hesitated awhile, but at last decided to falter:
"And monsieur is--er--intimately acquainted with--er--Madame de--Madame
Sainte--er--Madame Suzanne?"
Beauregard laughed heartily as he replied in the satirical tone habitual
to him:
"Do you know, monsieur, that your question is just the least bit
indiscreet?"
"I beg pardon, monsieur; if it offends you, I withdraw it. I asked it as
I might have asked: 'Do you smoke?'"
"Oh! not at all, monsieur; and it's of no use for you to try to conceal
your cunning beneath that affable air. You asked me that because you are
in love with Thélénie, and because you are afraid of finding a rival in
me! Is not that the truth?"
"Faith! monsieur, you are so good at guessing that I see that it would
be useless to try to dissemble with you.--I confess that I consider
that lady enchanting, adorable!"
"You made her acquaintance at the Opéra ball, at Mi-Carême, did you
not?"
"Yes, that is so; I was disguised as a Spaniard."
"Oh! I know it; I saw you pass with Thélénie on your arm. But how in the
devil did you go about it to induce her to accept your arm? that is what
I can't comprehend."
"The lady herself offered to walk with me; she spoke to me first in the
foyer, calling me by my name, which surprised me greatly as I had never
seen her before."
"It is very strange; she certainly did not accost you without some
reason."
"Why, the reason was that it gave her pleasure, presumably."
Beauregard laughed ironically as he rejoined:
"Oh, yes! it gave her pleasure; and there was another reason too, I'll
wager! Did you go to the ball alone?"
"No, I went with two friends of mine--Freluchon and Edmond Didier."
"Edmond Didier! good! now we are on the track; I understand it all now."
"What! what track are you on?"
"I'll stake my head that Thélénie questioned you closely on the subject
of Monsieur Edmond."
"Why, yes; she asked me very often whom he was with, if his mistress was
pretty----"
"That's it; and she forbade you to mention her to those gentlemen?"
"Really, it is extraordinary how you guess everything, monsieur; how you
read Madame Sainte-Suzanne's thoughts!"
"It's because I've known her a long while, as I told you just now! I
have been in a position to study her character, her sentiments and her
mind. You asked me if I were intimately acquainted with this lady--Well,
my dear monsieur--I beg pardon, but I don't know your name."
"Chamoureau--Sigismond Chamoureau."
"Well, my dear Monsieur Sigismond Chamoureau, I will tell you that I was
once, but that I have not been for a long time."
The agent's face brightened, and he cried:
"As you no longer are, it's just as if you had never been."
"It isn't altogether the same thing, but I congratulate you on being so
philosophical."
"In that case, monsieur, you don't bear me a grudge for being in love
with Madame Sainte-Suzanne, and I need no longer look upon you as a
rival?"
"I, bear you a grudge! oh! not the least in the world! I should have had
my hands very full if I had been the rival of all those whom that lady's
fine eyes have bewitched!"
"She has fine eyes, hasn't she?"
"Magnificent; and they have made many victims!"
"And will make many more; she is in all the bloom of her beauty!"
"Ah! if you had seen her nine years ago! that was a different matter!"
"Great God! what was she then?--For my part, I flattered myself too soon
on having made a conquest of the lady; she was very stern with me when I
had the good fortune to see her at her home; she even forbade me to
speak of my love. I will confess to you, monsieur, that that drove me to
despair."
"Ha! ha! poor Monsieur Chamoureau!"
"Not speak to her of love! Of what shall I speak to her, pray, that she
may listen with pleasure?"
"Pardieu! speak of Edmond Didier, who is her lover! whom she loves to
madness--for the moment. That is why she wanted to converse with you at
the Opéra ball,--Ha! ha! ha! Do you see now?"
Chamoureau turned pale; he halted in the middle of the gutter, crying:
"Oh! monsieur, what are you saying? What! Edmond Didier?"
"I am telling you the truth; I am opening your eyes; I am doing you a
service."
"It's a service which causes me a great deal of pain, then."
"What difference does it make to you whether she loves that young man or
another, so long as she doesn't love you?"
"But I hoped that she would love me, monsieur."
"If that's your hope, don't despair; who knows? women are so strange,
they have such surprising caprices; it is quite possible that she won't
always spurn you.--By the way, pardon the question, but are you rich,
monsieur?"
"Not very; I make four or five thousand francs a year."
"In that case, my dear monsieur, you have no great chance of succeeding
with Thélénie; and if you are wise enough to follow some good advice,
you will forget her and cease to bother your head about her.--But,
excuse me--I go in this direction. Good-day, monsieur."
"A thousand pardons, monsieur, but it would be a great pleasure to me to
know with whom I have had the honor of conversing."
"Here is my card, monsieur."
"And here is mine, monsieur; I have a real estate office, and if you
should ever have any business that hangs fire----"
"Be assured, monsieur, that I shall remember you."
Beauregard walked away, while Chamoureau read the card he held in his
hand, saying to himself:
"He was once Madame Sainte-Suzanne's lover! and Edmond is now! and I am
nothing at all! I have acted as an information machine, that is
all!--Ah! I am not surprised that she expressly forbade me to mention
her name. Well! all this doesn't prevent my adoring her. Monsieur
Beauregard advises me not to think of her any more; but perhaps he still
thinks of her himself; if he doesn't, why does he go to see her? That
is something he would have found it difficult to explain, I fancy.
Perhaps what he told me about Edmond isn't true. That man has a sardonic
expression; I think that I shall do well to be suspicious of him.--O
Eléonore! I am grieved that I no longer weep for you!"
XVI
AN ELECTRIC SPARK
Chamoureau went home completely overwhelmed by what he had learned in
his interview with Monsieur Beauregard. He thought of nothing else all
the rest of the day, the result being that it did not occur to him to go
to Monsieur Courtivaux and conclude the negotiation that Madame Dalmont
had entrusted to him. He asked himself every moment whether he should
try once more to see Edmond, and question him on the subject of his
liaison with Madame Sainte-Suzanne; but he remembered that she had
expressly forbidden him to mention her name to anyone.
"To be sure," he said to himself, "I have already broken my promise by
talking about her with this Monsieur Beauregard; but that wasn't my
fault. That man caught me in Madame Sainte-Suzanne's reception-room, so
I could not deny that I knew her; and the familiar way in which he
asked for her proved conclusively that he knew her very well indeed!"
On the following day our widower was still undecided, hesitating whether
he ought or ought not to talk to Edmond about the lady with the
beautiful black eyes.
Hesitating people often pass whole days unable to decide what to do, and
when, after mature consideration, they say to themselves: "I will decide
on this course," you see them suddenly change their minds and pause just
as they are about to act. Such characters generally fail in whatever
they undertake, because they never do it in time.
In a business agent, this failing is even more dangerous than in anybody
else. The agent with whom we have to do had two reasons for not
attending to the business placed in his hands: in addition to his
habitual indecision, he was in love, passionately in love, with a woman
with whom he had no hope of success, which fact necessarily increased
his love. It is always the thing that we cannot have for which we crave.
Chamoureau then was at home, saying to himself:
"I think I will go to Edmond Didier and tell him the whole truth; or
rather, tell him nothing, but question him shrewdly. I will lead him on
to talk of his love-affairs. He will begin about little Amélia, and then
I will say: 'No, it's not that one, but another--a very beautiful
brunette--that I want to talk to you about.'
"Yes, but then he will reply: 'How do you know that I ever knew a very
beautiful brunette? Do you know her yourself?'--Damnation! it's
terribly embarrassing!"
At that moment the doorbell rang and shortly after, Edmond Didier
entered the office.
"My dear Monsieur Chamoureau," he said, "I understand that you have been
to my room several times to see me; I have come to find out what you had
to say to me and in what way I can be of service to you?"
Chamoureau was stupefied when he saw Edmond; he recovered himself,
however, and composed his features.
"Ah! good morning, Monsieur Edmond; I am very glad to see you; it gives
me great pleasure. You are well, I hope?"
"Very well. But I fancy that it wasn't to inquire for my health that you
came to see me three times in one day?"
"No, of course not, although I take great interest in it. But
Freluchon--have you seen Freluchon lately?"
"He started for Rouen and may have gone as far as Havre, to treat his
little Pompadour to fresh oysters; for you know that his taking her to
Normandie was the result of a bet that his latest conquest won at that
supper of ours, by smoking through her nose."
"I know--or, rather, I don't know--for you must remember that I dozed a
little toward the end of the supper."
"Ah, yes! that is true; I had forgotten."
"And that little woman in the Pompadour costume smokes through her nose,
does she?"
"That is to say, she holds the cigar in her mouth, like everybody else,
but she discharges the smoke through her nostrils; which is rather
strong for a woman."
"It is, indeed; I wouldn't do it myself, although I smoke a little. How
accomplished women are in this age! If this goes on, I should not be
surprised to see them chewing tobacco in time."
"Oh! Monsieur Chamoureau, what are you saying!"
"Bless me! I keep track of the progress of mankind. In the old days,
ladies wouldn't allow smoking in their presence; to-day they smoke
themselves. From that to chewing tobacco in the shape of pastilles of
mint or cachou isn't a very long road to travel."
"Well, let us come to what you had to say to me. I am in more or less of
a hurry. It's a fine day, and I promised Amélia to take her to the Bois
this morning. We may go as far as Ville d'Avray."
"Amélia! what? the young flower-maker who was at the supper, dressed as
a _débardeur_?"
"Herself; I have made up with her; she is amusing and quite bright; on
the whole, I like her very well."
"You really like her, eh? And you have no other mistress?"
"Faith, no! not for the moment, at all events."
"Dear Monsieur Edmond! You see, I have been told that you adored a
magnificent brunette--a tall, handsome woman, with a fine figure----"
"Ah! you mean Thélénie."
Chamoureau changed color as he stammered:
"Yes, that's the name--Thélénie; that's the name I heard; or
Madame--Madame----"
"Sainte-Suzanne?"
"Exactly--Sainte-Suzanne. Then I was not misinformed: you have been--you
are that lady's lover?"
"I am not now; I have broken with her; I have entirely ceased to visit
her."
The business agent leaped on the young man's neck and embraced him,
crying:
"Is it possible? Dear Edmond! You no longer love her; you have broken
with her completely! In that case, you are not my rival!"
"Well, well! what then, is the matter with you, Monsieur Chamoureau?
what has taken hold of you? whence this outburst of joy? Can it be that
you are in love with Thélénie?"
"I--no; I didn't say that; or, at all events, I ought not to say it;
it's an impenetrable mystery. But still, if it were true, my dear
friend--if I were secretly nourishing that passion in my heart--it would
not make you angry with me?"
"I should think not! on the contrary, I would wish you all sorts of good
luck in your love-affairs. Ah! I remember now what you said at the
supper; that matchless creature, that woman who eclipsed all other women
but who did not wish to be known, was she."
"Well, yes, it was she; but she had made me swear not to say that I knew
her. I am a wretch, a traitor! I break all my oaths!"
"Bah! in love, you know, that doesn't do any harm."
"Say nothing about it to Freluchon, I entreat you."
"I will be dumb, since that is your wish!"
"Excellent Edmond! Your hand! I congratulate myself on being your
friend."
"And I, my dear Monsieur Chamoureau, in the capacity of friend, will
venture to give you a little advice,--with which you will do what people
generally do with advice--disregard it."
"What is it?"
"Well, it is this: to be a little distrustful of your new conquest.
Between us, Madame Sainte-Suzanne is a dangerous woman."
"Really? she is dangerous, you say? In what respect? Does she carry a
stiletto about her, like the Italian women?"
"That is not what I mean. But she is very jealous. However, after all, I
don't mean to speak ill of a woman who has shown me nothing but
kindness; that would be ungrateful.--Au revoir, my dear Chamoureau; I
must go to meet Amélia."
"But first, my dear friend, I would like to ask your advice."
"Some other time; I haven't time to-day."
Edmond was about leaving the agent's office, when two ladies entered.
They were Madame Dalmont and her young friend, and they had called to
ascertain whether Chamoureau had arranged for them the purchase of the
little house at Chelles.
The young man courteously stepped aside to allow the ladies to enter,
and he had an opportunity to examine them at his ease. He noticed that
Honorine was a very attractive person, without being exactly pretty; but
when his eyes rested on Agathe, he did not consider her beauty, he did
not analyze each of her features; but he was conscious of a sudden
thrill of emotion, and discovered instantly in the girl's face an
indefinable charm which enraptured him, dazzled him and brought about
something very like a revolution in his whole being. He stood as if
rooted to the spot, and did not think of going away.
"Monsieur," said Honorine to Chamoureau, who gazed at her with a stupid
air, "we have heard nothing from you for three days, and I have come to
find out why it is. Does Monsieur Courtivaux no longer wish to sell his
house?"
"Oh! pardon, madame, a thousand pardons! Yes, yes! the little house at
Chelles; I remember now."
"What! you remember now? Then you had forgotten the matter, had you?"
"I had not exactly forgotten it; but there was another matter which took
all my time, and----"
"What, monsieur! you have not been to see the owner of the house? when
we said that we were in such haste to conclude the purchase, and that we
would like to be settled in the country even now?"
"I was going there this morning, mesdames."
"Oh! it wasn't kind of you, monsieur, to neglect this business," said
Agathe, blushing a little, because she saw that the young man, who was
still present, kept his eyes fixed on her. "My dear friend and I think
about that house every minute in the day; and then they say that this is
just the time to plant seeds and set out flowers. If it should be sold
to anybody else, I shouldn't get over it."