On Tuesday evening Chester, a country boy yet now and then, was first
at the De l'Isles'.
Madame lauded him. "Punctualitie! tha'z the soul of pleasure!" She
had begun to explain why her other guests included but one young lady,
when here they came. First, the Prieurs, a still handsome Creole
couple whom he never met again. Then that youthful-aged up-town pair,
the Thorndyke-Smiths. And last--while Smith held Chester captive to
tell him he knew his part of Dixie, having soldiered there in the Civil
War--the one young lady, Mlle. Chapdelaine. As Chester turned toward
her she turned away, but her back view was enough to startle him.
"Aline," the hostess began as she brought them face to face, but
whatever she said more might as well have been a thunderbolt through
the roof. For Aline Chapdelaine was SHE.
They went out together. What a stately dining-room! What carvings!
What old china and lace on the board, under what soft, rich
illumination! The Prieurs held the seats of honor. Chester was on the
hostess's left. Mademoiselle sat between him and Mr. Smith. It would
be pleasant to tell with what poise the youth and she dropped into
conversation, each intensely mindful--intensely aware that the other
was mindful--of that Conti Street corner, of Ovide's shop, and of "The
Clock in the Sky," and both alike hungry to know how much each had been
told about the other. Calmly they ignored all earlier encounter and
entered into acquaintance on the common ground of the poetry of the
narrow region of decay in which this lovely home lay hid "like a lost
jewel."
"Ah, not quite lost yet," the girl protested.
"No," he conceded, "not while the poetry remains," and Smith, on her
other hand, said:
"Not while this cluster of shops beneath us is kept by those who now
keep them."
"My faith!" the hostess broke in, "to real souls 'tis they are the
wonder--and the _poésie_--and the jewels! Ask Aline!"
"Ask me," Chester said, as if for mademoiselle's rescue; "I discovered
them only last week."
"And then also," quietly said Aline, "ask me, for I did not discover
them only last week."
M. Prieur joining in enabled Chester to murmur: "May I ask you
something?"
"You need not. You would ask if I knew you had discovered them--M.
Castanado and the rest."
"And you would answer?"
"That I knew they had discovered you."
"Discovered, you mean, my spiritual substance?"
"Yes, your spiritual substance. That's a capital expression, Mr.
Chester, your 'spiritual substance.' I must add that to my English."
"Your English is wonderfully correct. May I ask something else?"
"I can answer without. Yes, I know where you're going to-morrow and
for what; to read that old manuscript. Mr. Chester, that other
story--of my _grand'mére_, 'Maud'; how did you like that?"
"It left me in love with your _grand'mére_."
"Notwithstanding she became what they used to call--you know the word."
"Yes, 'nigger-stealer.' How did you ever add that to your English?"
"My father _was_ one. Right here in Royal Street. Hotel St. Louis.
Else he might never have married my--that's too long to tell here."
"May I not hear it soon, at your home?"
"Assuredly. Sooner or later. My aunts they are born raconteurs."
"Oh! your aunts. Hem! Do you know? I had an uncle who once was your
grandfather's sort of robber, though a Southerner born and bred."
"Yes, Ovide's wife told me. Will you permit me a question?"
"No," laughed Chester, "but I can answer it. Yes. Those four poor
runaways to whom your sweet Maud showed the clock in the sky were the
same four my uncle helped on--oh, you've not heard it, and it also is
too long. I can lend you his 'Memorandum' if you'll have it."
She hesitated. "N-no," she said. "Ah, no! I couldn't bear that
responsibility! Listen; Mr. Smith is going to tell a war story of the
city."
But no, that gentleman's story was yet another too long for the moment
even when the men were left to their cigars. Instead he and Chester
made further acquaintance. When they returned to the ladies, "I want
you to talk with my wife," said Mr. Smith, and Chester obeyed. Yet
soon he was at mademoiselle's side again and she was saying in a
dropped voice:
"To-morrow when you're at the Castanados' to read, so privately, would
you be willing for Mme. De l'Isle to be there--just madame alone?"
Oh, but men are dull! "I'd be honored!" he said. "They can modify the
privacy as they please." Oh, but men are dull! There he had to give
place to M. Prieur and presently accepted some kind of social
invitation, seeing no way out of it, from the Smiths. So ended the
evening. Mlle. Chapdelaine was taken to her home, "close by," as she
said, in the Prieurs' carriage.
"They are juz' arround in Bourbon Street, those Chapdelaines," said the
De l'Isles to Chester, last to go. "Y'ought to see their li'l'
flower-garden. Like those two aunt' that maintain it, 'tis unique.
Y'ought to see that--and them."
"I have mademoiselle's permission," he replied.
"Ah, well, then!--ha, ha!" The pair exchanged a smile which seemed to
the parting guest to say: "After all he's not so utterly deficient!"