Part 18

Lastly, the old bachelor himself had purchased a box of candied fruit, without his maid-servant's knowledge. But he took care not to intrust his gift to the concierge, for if he did he knew that his servant would certainly be told of it. So he went out on the boulevard and found a little bootblack, to whom he handed his box and gave instructions where to deliver it; and as he did not choose to remain incognito, lest his pretty neighbor should attribute his gift to somebody else, he instructed his messenger to say to her:

"Your neighbor, Monsieur Renardin, sends you this box, with his compliments.--Above all things," he added, "don't stop at the concierge's lodge, and don't speak to him; go straight to Mademoiselle Georgette's room on the entresol. You are paid, so take nothing from her."

Affairs were in this condition when Monsieur de Mardeille sent his valet Frontin to Georgette's room. From early morning, the concierge, having received the presents one after another, had passed all his time going back and forth from his lodge to the entresol, where the young shirtmaker accepted without hesitation everything that was sent to her, simply saying to the concierge:

"Say to monsieur that I thank him."

"Don't forget to read the verses, mademoiselle; there's verses written on the paper," said the concierge, when he delivered the bunches of violets.

"All right; I'll read everything, but I shall not answer anything."

Georgette had read the quatrain, and was humming the vaudevillist's ballad, which was written to the tune of _La Boulangère_, laughing heartily at the words:

"Vous avez un minois fripon, Une taille tres-fine; L'oeil assassin, le pied mignon, La tournure mutine; J'admire enfin votre jupon Et tout ce qu'on devine De rond, Et tout ce qu'on devine!"[E]

when the concierge appeared once more, with the package of photographs of actors; and a few moments later with the box adorned with cupids.

"What! more?" said Georgette. "Why, these gentlemen seem to have passed the word around to-day to pay compliments to me!"

"Faith! yes, mademoiselle, they're standing in line at my door. But I don't complain; to tell you the truth, all these young men are well intentioned; all they want is to pay their respects to you; that's what they told me to tell you."

"I accept the little gifts, monsieur; they serve to keep up--pleasant relations; but be good enough to say to these gentlemen that I do not want their respects, and beg them not to take the trouble of coming to offer them to me."

"The devil!" muttered the concierge, as he went away; "the young shirtmaker is one of the virtuous kind, it seems; and these gentlemen won't have anything to show for their presents! But in spite of that, she accepts everything that comes!"

Georgette had just received the package of simples presented by the young doctor and had repeated her previous reply to the concierge, when Monsieur de Mardeille's valet presented himself at her door.

He saluted her with the unceremonious air commonly assumed by servants who think that their appearance is most welcome; and when Georgette asked him what he wanted, he replied in an almost patronizing tone:

"I come, mademoiselle, from my master, Monsieur de Mardeille--the gentleman who lives opposite, on the first floor--an apartment that rents for three thousand francs. My master is very rich; he has more than twenty-five thousand francs a year; he might have a carriage if he chose; he has money enough. The only reason that he hasn't one is that he doesn't want it."

Georgette laughed in the servant's face.

"Well! what of it?" she retorted. "What do you suppose I care whether your master has a carriage or not, or how much he pays for his apartment? Did he send you here to tell me that? Oh! that would be too stupid!"

Monsieur Frontin was a little disconcerted to find that he had not produced more effect. He continued, in a less lofty tone:

"No, mademoiselle, no; my master didn't send me here to tell you that. But I thought--I supposed you would be glad to be informed. One likes to know with whom one is dealing."

"Do your errand; that will be better than your long speeches."

This time Frontin was altogether disconcerted; he expected to find a young seamstress only too delighted to receive a message from his master, and he found that he had to do with a young woman who seemed strongly inclined to laugh at him. So he decided to be very polite, and said in a respectful tone:

"My master, mademoiselle, having occasion to have some shirts made, and knowing that you work in that line, requests you to be kind enough to call at his apartment, so that he may give you his order and be measured."

"Monsieur," replied Georgette, in a very decided tone, "you will say to your master that I am not in the habit of calling upon unmarried men. If he were married, if his wife were with him, why, I would gladly comply with his request, there would be no difficulty about it; but as he is alone----"

"He has a maid, mademoiselle, and myself."

"Servants don't count, monsieur. I shall not go to your master's apartment; if he has an order to give me, he can take the trouble to come here; I will receive him and his twenty-five thousand francs a year, with or without a carriage!"

Frontin was piqued; in the first place, because the young woman had said that servants did not count; and secondly, because she seemed to make very little account of his master's exalted position. He replied, with evident irritation:

"Why, where would be the harm, mademoiselle? Suppose you should come to Monsieur de Mardeille's rooms; you wouldn't be the first one to do it! He receives ladies--a great many ladies! And they _are_ ladies, too, who don't work for everybody."

"Monsieur le valet de chambre, you are a donkey! You talk nothing but nonsense!"

"What's that? I am a donkey! Allow me----"

"I don't doubt that your master receives many ladies, and for that very reason I don't propose to add to the number."

"But----"

"Enough of this! You have my answer; go and repeat it to Monsieur de Mardeille."

Frontin was on the point of making some retort, when a great uproar in the courtyard attracted the attention of all the tenants of the house.

X

A BOX OF CANDIED FRUIT

The reader will remember that Monsieur Renardin, one of Georgette's neighbors, who had a maid of all work, had purchased a box of candied fruit and had employed a little bootblack to deliver it to Georgette, and had told him that she lived on the entresol at the rear of the courtyard.

But the young fellow, who was a messenger as well as a bootblack, was a child of Auvergne, and had just as much intelligence as he required to black boots or to carry a pail of water; almost all water carriers are Auvergnats. He put the box of candied fruit under his arm; it was carefully wrapped in white paper and tied with pink ribbon. He entered the designated house, and, passing the concierge's door with his head in the air, started across the courtyard; but the concierge, who had seen him pass, ran out of his lodge and stopped him, saying:

"Where in the devil are you going, you young scamp? What do you mean by marching by my door without a word? That's no way to go into a house, do you hear, Savoyard?"

"I ain't no Savoyard, I'm an Auvergnat."

"Savoyard or Auvergnat! I don't care which, they're the same thing! Where are you going, I say?"

"I'm not speaking to you! I'm going straight ahead."

"I see that you don't speak to me; but I speak to you; I'm the concierge, and I have a right to question you, and you must answer."

"I'm not to speak to the concierge, that's my orders. I'm going straight ahead."

"What an obstinate little beggar! I tell you, you shan't pass till I know where you're going!"

"But I tell you I'm going straight ahead to take this box."

"Where?"

"I won't tell you."

"I'll make you tell me! What's in the box? explosive stuff, perhaps? If you won't answer, I'll take you and your box before the magistrate."

The concierge seized the boy's arm; he struggled and wept, and shouted at the top of his lungs:

"Let me be--you big thief! Monsieur Renardin, your neighbor, sent me here, and I'll tell him that you wouldn't let me do my errand!"

Mademoiselle Arthémise, the old bachelor's servant, crossed the courtyard at that moment. Hearing her master's name, she stopped short, then ran to the messenger.

"Monsieur Renardin!" she cried; "who wants Monsieur Renardin? This little fellow?--What do you want of him?"

"Why, no, he doesn't want him; he says that he comes here from him," said the concierge; "if the little donkey had only said that at first, I'd have let him pass."

"From him--he comes from him? Then it's me he wants. Monsieur Renardin must have sent him to me. What do you want of me, my boy?"

The little Auvergnat looked at Mademoiselle Arthémise, who was a strapping, red-faced wench of about thirty, with stray hairs on her chin and upper lip that made her look like a man disguised as a woman.

"Be you Mademoiselle Georgette?" he asked.

"Mademoiselle Georgette!" replied the stout servant, with a savage glare. "Yes, yes, that's me."

"And you live in the entresol yonder?"

"Yes, yes, it's me, I tell you! Did Monsieur Renardin send you to bring that box to Mademoiselle Georgette, on the entresol?"

"Yes; it's from your neighbor, with all his compliments, mademoiselle."

"Ah! we'll just look and see what he sends to that hussy!"

And Mademoiselle Arthémise seized the box and was beginning to tear off the wrapper, when the concierge called to her:

"I beg your pardon, mademoiselle; you take that box when you know perfectly well it isn't for you."

"What business is it of yours? What do you want to meddle in it for, you low-lived porter? Does the shirtmaker pay you to look after her lovers' presents?"

"No, mademoiselle, the shirtmaker doesn't pay me, but I'm bound to do my duty; if that Auvergnat Savoyard had said what he wanted, I'd have let him pass and carry to Mademoiselle Georgette what he had for her."

"Oh, yes! everybody knows that you look after the lovers; that's your business, you know."

"My business is to see that the tenants get what's addressed to them. Give me that box, which isn't for you."

"Not if I know it! Candied fruits! apricots! Look at this, will you! He gives candied fruits to that slut, and he says there's no need of my putting mushrooms in the chicken fricassee! that I spend too much money! that I ain't economical! Just wait! just wait! I'll give you candied prunes and cherries packed in straw!"

"But I tell you again to give me that box, Mademoiselle Arthémise; you are not Mademoiselle Georgette!"

The little Auvergnat, who was just beginning to understand that he had made a botch of his errand, interposed at that point.

"What! ain't you the lady on the entresol?" he asked.

"Bah! hold your tongue, you brat, it's none of your business! Here, here's an orange; put that down and show me your heels!"

And Mademoiselle Arthémise stuffed a piece of candied orange into the bootblack's mouth. He accepted and ate it; but he was none the less determined to recover the box. He tried to take it away from Monsieur Renardin's maid, and the concierge seconded his efforts. But the stout Arthémise was a muscular wench, able to contend with more formidable antagonists. She began by throwing a slice of quince in the boy's face; then she planted a candied apricot on the concierge's left eye, whereat he cried out like an ass whose eye has been put out; then she dealt blows indiscriminately to right and left.

It was the outcries of the concierge and the little Auvergnat, blended with roars of laughter from Mademoiselle Arthémise, that had brought all the tenants to their windows. To add to the uproar, Monsieur Renardin appeared at that moment, uneasy because his messenger had not returned, and curious to know how the pretty shirtmaker had received his gift.

The bachelor was horrified when he saw the little Auvergnat on all fours, looking for the piece of quince, which had fallen to the ground; the concierge yelling and cursing as he removed the apricot from his eye, piece by piece; and lastly, the maid of all work, stuffing herself with candied fruit and saying:

"It's mighty good, all the same! I never tasted it before, but I'll make him give me some now."

"What does this mean, Arthémise? What are you doing here in the courtyard, instead of attending to your dinner?" inquired Monsieur Renardin, with a frown.

"My dinner! Deuce take the dinner! it can take care of itself. I'm having a treat, I am! I'm eating candied cherries and pears! I say, monsieur, when you go about it, you send nice presents to young ladies! But you'd better choose a page who ain't quite so stupid as this one; he took me for the hussy of the entresol. Oh, my! I didn't say anything; I just took the box."

"What's that? you little rascal! is this the way you do errands?"

"No, monsieur; it wasn't my fault. Why wouldn't the concierge let me in?"

"I did my duty; this Savoyard's a fool, and I was just going to send him to the entresol when Mademoiselle Arthémise told him she was Mademoiselle Georgette, and that the box was for her."

"What, Arthémise! you dared----"

"Hoity-toity! why should I have hesitated? This little brat brings a box from you--of course, I thought it was for me. As if I could suppose that a man of your age would pay court to young girls! that he'd lay out money for the first pert-faced minx that perches in the house! that he'd send boxes of candied fruit to a new-comer, a shirtmaker, when he growls every day because, as he says, I put too much butter in a sauce that----"

"Enough, mademoiselle! that will do; come with me, and we will have an explanation upstairs. I don't choose to have the whole house know what goes on in my establishment."

And Monsieur Renardin walked hastily toward the stairs, not daring to look at the windows of the entresol. Mademoiselle Arthémise followed her master, making faces behind his back; she still had the box of candied fruit in her hand, and she called out to the concierge, laughing in his face:

"I don't care a snap of my finger! I always get the good things. As for monsieur, as he don't like bread soup, he can make up his mind to eat nothing else for a week!"

"If my eye is injured, mademoiselle," said the concierge, "you'll have to pay the doctor!"

"Count on it, my dear man; apply to Monsieur Renardin; he's the cause of it all! He's an old rake, and nothing else!"

Georgette had overheard all this from her room, and it had amused her immensely. Monsieur Frontin, who was on the landing, had stopped there, in order not to lose a word of the altercation and to be able to report it faithfully to his master. When there was no one left in the courtyard, the little Auvergnat having decamped after picking up the piece of quince, the valet returned to the front building and to his master's apartment. He began by attempting to tell him what had just taken place in the courtyard; but Monsieur de Mardeille interrupted him:

"I know all about that; I was at my window. I know that Monsieur Renardin sent a box of candied fruit to the little shirtmaker, and that Arthémise, his maid, got possession of the box and ate what was in it. That Arthémise is a bad one, and her master ought to discharge her at once. But when a man submits to be domineered over by his servant, he deserves to have her make a fool of him. However, that doesn't interest me much; this Monsieur Renardin is not a rival to worry about. You have been to see the little one? Well! She was flattered, enchanted by my proposition, of course? When is she coming?"

Frontin drew himself up, assumed a solemn expression, and replied:

"Mademoiselle Georgette did not seem at all flattered by monsieur's proposition; on the contrary, she put on an air--well, an air as if she was a great swell!"

"Cut it short, Frontin!"

"Well, monsieur, this shirtmaker doesn't choose to measure you for shirts; do you understand that?"

"I understand that you're an idiot, if that's the way you did my errand! I never said a word to you about taking my measure!"

"But I supposed that was necessary, monsieur. When a tailor makes you a coat, he takes your measure first."

"Enough! What did the girl say? She didn't refuse without giving any reasons, did she?"

"She thought it was strange, monsieur, that you are not married. She said: 'Oh! if your master was married, if he had a wife, that would make a difference; I'd go and measure him right away; but I don't go to see bachelors. If he chooses to come to my rooms, I will receive him.'"

"Aha! she wants me to go to her! You ought to have begun by telling me that, you clown! I understand--that flatters my young lady's vanity! These girls have so much self-esteem! She wants the whole house to know that Monsieur de Mardeille is paying court to her! Well, I don't care, after all; I will go; but I will go in the evening, because the neighbors aren't at their windows after dark."

XI

DECLARATION AND OBSTINACY

That same evening, Monsieur de Mardeille left his apartment about eight o'clock. It was quite dark, everything was quiet in the house, and he stole noiselessly downstairs and passed the concierge's lodge on tiptoe, unnoticed. Then he walked rapidly across the courtyard and went up to the entresol, where he could see a light.

"No one will see me go to the little shirtmaker's," he said to himself, "and perhaps she will be quite as well pleased to receive me after dark. That saves appearances."

He stopped at Georgette's door and knocked softly. In a moment, a sweet voice said:

"Who is there?"

"Open, if you please, Mademoiselle Georgette; it is someone who wishes to speak to you."

"I don't receive visits at night. Come back to-morrow morning."

"I am your opposite neighbor, mademoiselle--Monsieur de Mardeille; I sent my servant to you this morning. You know what it is that brings me; so be kind enough to open the door, I beg."

"I am very sorry, monsieur; but I never let anybody in at night. Come back to-morrow. It will be light then."

"What, mademoiselle! you leave me outside your door--me, Monsieur de Mardeille! You are quite certain, I presume, that I am not a robber?"

"Perhaps you might be a more dangerous character! Good-night, monsieur! Until to-morrow, by daylight!"

"It's because she considers me too dangerous that she won't let me in now!" said Monsieur de Mardeille to himself, as he returned to his own lodgings.

That idea, by flattering his self-esteem, consoled him a little for having put himself out to no purpose.

"It's plain," he thought, "that she wants the whole house to know that I am paying court to her.--Well! since it must be, mademoiselle, you shall receive a visit from me at midday."

And the next day, after passing more than an hour at his toilet, because he was determined to be irresistible, Monsieur de Mardeille decided to defy the prying glances of the neighbors. He went downstairs as if he were going out; but as he passed the concierge, who was standing at his door, he said:

"By the way, that girl who lives on the entresol makes shirts, doesn't she?"

"Yes, monsieur; she works for a linen draper; her sewing is perfect, so they say."

"In that case, I am inclined to order some shirts of her. One ought always to employ one's neighbors, as far as possible."

And our dandified friend turned on his heel, crossed the courtyard, and in an instant stood before Georgette's door, which was always unlocked during the day.

Monsieur de Mardeille tapped softly twice.

"Come in, the door is unlocked," replied the same voice that he had heard the night before.

Monsieur de Mardeille entered with the ease of manner born of familiarity with society, and the nonchalance which a rich man always affects when he calls upon poor people--unless, that is to say, he is possessed of intelligence or tact; in which case, far from seeking to make his superiority felt, his endeavor will rather be to keep it out of sight. But men of tact and intelligence are rare, and Georgette's caller was deficient in both those qualities.

However, he abated something of his lordly manner when he saw how unconcernedly the young woman received him. She seemed in no wise perturbed by his visit, but gracefully motioned him to a chair and coolly resumed her own, which was near the window, saying:

"May I know, monsieur, to what I am indebted for the honor of your visit?"

Monsieur de Mardeille settled himself comfortably in his chair, and replied:

"Mademoiselle, I sent my valet to you yesterday; I ventured to request you to come to my apartment; it is not very far; I live just opposite."

"Oh! I know it, monsieur; I recognize you perfectly. But your servant must have told you----"

"That you would not call upon unmarried men--yes, he told me that. But, bless my soul! why do bachelors cause you such alarm? Have you had much reason to complain of them? Ha! ha! ha! Do you know that that might give rise to many conjectures?"

And he laughed again, because he had fine teeth which he was very glad to exhibit, and because, moreover, he thought it quite clever to laugh like that. But Georgette remained unmoved, and replied:

"I don't know what conjectures one might form, monsieur; but I act thus because it suits me, and I worry very little about what people may think."

Monsieur de Mardeille, surprised at the girl's serious tone, smiled rather sheepishly and decided not to laugh any more. He moved uneasily in his chair as he rejoined:

"I had no intention to offend you. The deuce! mademoiselle, it seems that one cannot safely jest with you."

"I beg your pardon, monsieur; I am very ready to jest, when I know my man."

"Ah! to be sure, and you know me only by sight as yet. I consider myself fortunate, mademoiselle, to have so charming a person as you are for my opposite neighbor; and it made me anxious at once to--to--to become better acquainted with you."

"I thank you, monsieur; but there is too great a difference of rank between us."

"Differences may be lessened; in fact, they very soon disappear between a lovely woman and a man who is fascinated by her charms."

Georgette smiled and murmured:

"Was it to tell me that that you came here, monsieur?"

"Faith, yes! Look you! I won't beat about the bush; I prefer to go straight to the point. Indeed, why should I conceal the impression that your charms, your beauty, have made on my heart? Is it a crime to love you? especially as I am a bachelor, which certainly is no reason for spurning my homage. Yes, my lovely neighbor, you turned my head the very first time I saw you--in this charming négligé which is so becoming to you! I have not had a moment's repose since, I think of nothing but you! I used the pretext of wanting shirts made to try to lure you to my apartment; but what I wanted, what I want now, before everything, is to tell you that I adore you, and to beg you not to be insensible to my love!"

It was Georgette's turn to laugh; and she did it so frankly, so unreservedly, that the old beau, who had leaned over toward her, straightened himself up and seemed completely taken back. As the pretty shirtmaker continued to laugh, he decided to say:

"Mon Dieu! mademoiselle, I am delighted to have afforded you so much amusement; but may I not know what it is that makes you laugh so heartily? It cannot be my avowal of my sentiments? You must be accustomed to receive such declarations, are you not? So far as I have been able to see, almost all the men in the house have told you or would like to tell you the same thing."

"Ah! you know that, do you, monsieur?"

"Did I not see the concierge pass the whole of yesterday bringing you bouquets, photographs, and heaven knows what? I even heard something of a box of candied fruit.--Ha! ha! ha! that was too absurd!"