Part 20

"A little pallor makes one more interesting; women like a melancholy air. That cruel girl will be touched by my evident suffering. Decidedly, it is much better for me to be pale; it gives me the advantage at the outset."

He betook himself to his little neighbor's apartment, crossing the courtyard as rapidly as possible to avoid the glances of the other tenants. This time the door was unlocked. Monsieur de Mardeille unceremoniously entered Georgette's room and found her already at work. She looked up at him with a sly smile, and said:

"Good-morning, monsieur! it's very good of you to come to see me. Pray sit down, and we will talk about the play."

But Monsieur de Mardeille did not sit down; he paced the floor excitedly, and rejoined in an angry tone:

"I didn't come here to talk about the play, mademoiselle!"

"Indeed? Very well, then we'll talk about something else."

"Mademoiselle--you sleep very soundly!"

"I? Oh! you are mistaken, monsieur; on the contrary, my sleep is very light; the slightest noise wakes me."

"The slightest noise? How did it happen, then, that you didn't hear the noise I made last night, when I knocked on your door for half an hour, and you did not deign to reply?"

"Last night? Why, I heard you distinctly, monsieur; much too distinctly, in fact!"

"Then, mademoiselle, why didn't you let me in?"

"Why? Because I didn't choose to; because I don't receive visits at midnight; because I considered the uproar you made at my door most unseemly!"

"Uproar? But if you had opened your door at once, I wouldn't have made any uproar!"

"True; but as I didn't choose to open it, you shouldn't have kept on knocking."

"Why, mademoiselle, it seems to me that I had the right to come to your room, that I might fairly expect to be admitted! When a woman accepts gifts from a man, it means that she consents--at all events, she shouldn't leave him at the door when he comes to see her."

"The right! the right!" cried Georgette, rising, and casting such an angry glance at Monsieur de Mardeille that he was thoroughly abashed. "Let me tell you, monsieur, that you are most impertinent, and that I ought to turn you out of my room at once and forbid you ever to put your foot inside my door again. The right! What do you mean, monsieur? Is it because you have sent me a few paltry rags that you presume to speak to me in this tone? Understand, monsieur, that I did you much honor by receiving your superb gifts! If you had not wanted to go out with me, you wouldn't have given them to me, I presume. So that you did it much more to gratify your own vanity than to please me. And monsieur imagines that, because of those gifts, I will open my door to him at midnight! and perhaps give myself to him and esteem myself too happy to be his mistress!--Why, you are mad, monsieur! Here are your presents. I don't want them; you may take them back! Look, this will show you how much I care for them!"

As she spoke, Georgette ran to her closet, took down the gown, shawl, and bonnet, threw them on the floor, and kicked them toward Monsieur de Mardeille, who was horrified and dared not move.

Having done this, the girl returned to her chair by the window, which was open as usual, and resumed her work, paying no further heed to her neighbor, who stood in the same spot as motionless as a statue.

Several minutes passed thus. The ex-beau had had time to reflect. He began by picking up the gown, the shawl, and the bonnet, and laid them all carefully on a table; then he went to Georgette and stammered confusedly:

"Mademoiselle--I was wrong--I was very wrong--I admit it!"

"It's very fortunate that you realize it, monsieur!"

"I should not have believed--or rather, I should not have hoped---- Certainly I do not attach any value to these gewgaws that I sent you; it wasn't on account of them that I knocked at your door last night; but I thought that you were touched by my passion for you, that you no longer doubted it--that was what led me to come here and knock last night, after the theatre. Forgive me, I beseech you, my dear neighbor; don't be angry with me; it would make me too unhappy."

"As you admit your wrongdoing," Georgette answered, with a smile, "I forgive you. Oh! I am not one who bears malice! I say at once what I have on my heart; then it's all over and I think no more about it."

The old beau took the girl's hand and respectfully put it to his lips. She withdrew it and pointed to a chair, saying:

"Now sit down, and let us talk about something else."

"Something else!" murmured Monsieur de Mardeille as he sat down. "When I am with you, it is hard for me to refrain from telling you of my love. Does it make you angry?"

"No; but have you forgotten what I said to you?"

"Faith! it's quite possible, my dear neighbor; what did you say to me on that subject?"

"I told you that I did not believe in any man's love until he had given me proofs of it."

Her neighbor frowned, and faltered:

"Ah! yes--to be sure--I remember now--proofs. But I don't feel quite sure what you mean by that."

"Oh! monsieur, I should consider that I insulted you if I explained my meaning any further!" retorted Georgette, satirically. "If you don't understand me, so much the worse for you!"

"Did you enjoy the play last night?" hastily inquired Monsieur de Mardeille, anxious to change the subject.

"Yes, monsieur, very much. I would go very often, if I had the means."

"But if someone takes you, it's the same thing, isn't it?"

"No, monsieur; it isn't the same thing to be able to give one's self pleasure when one chooses, as to take it only when it pleases others to offer it."

"At all events, my pretty neighbor, when it is your pleasure to go again, I shall be at your service and delighted to escort you."

"You are too kind, monsieur.--Did you notice that lady in pink who was in a box on the stage last night?"

"In a proscenium box, do you mean?"

"I don't know whether you call it a proscenium box, but the lady I mean had a sort of crown of flowers on her head--and she was very pretty, too."

"Oh! yes, I remember--a lovely blonde. That was Irma, one of the women most in vogue at this moment."

"Do you know her?"

"Oh! as one knows a great many of the women one meets at all the balls at the Casino, at all the first performances--in short, at all the functions to which one can gain admission by paying for it."

"Is she married?"

"Married? the deuce! never!--As if those creatures ever married! She's a kept woman, that's the whole story."

"Ah! she's a kept woman. At all events, she is kept handsomely. She had a magnificent diamond necklace and brooch. For they were diamonds, weren't they, monsieur?"

"They were--or, at all events, they looked like it; but they may have been false. Nowadays, they make false gems that resemble real ones so closely that it's very hard to distinguish them. They're quite as handsome; indeed, they are often more effective, on account of the way they're mounted."

"False diamonds! how horrible! I should never be willing to wear anything false, myself!"

Monsieur de Mardeille looked at his watch, then rose, and said:

"How the time flies with you, charming Georgette! But I have some business at my broker's, and I have only just time to go there. So, au revoir, my lovely neighbor! You are not angry any longer, are you?"

"No, monsieur, no; I have entirely forgotten the past."

The ex-beau bowed and left her, saying to himself:

"She has forgotten the past! Therefore she has entirely forgotten that I gave her a complete toilette. She looks upon that as such a trifling matter! And now she's beginning to talk about diamonds! Oh! that is going too far! The little one has extravagant ideas! I wonder if she would like me to keep her like Irma? It's incredible! a shirtmaker wanting diamonds! The deuce! I didn't expect to encounter so many obstacles with a grisette; it never happened to me before! She talked with self-assurance! She's no fool, that's clear! And the worst of it is that, when she gets excited, her eyes have such fire and expression! She is enchanting! She's a little demon! But give her diamonds! never! never! I'd rather eat them!"

Several weeks passed. Monsieur de Mardeille continued his visits in the daytime to Georgette, who always had her windows open, whatever the weather. But he did not make the slightest progress in his love affair. When he tried to move nearer to the girl, she compelled him to remove his chair; if he tried to take her hand, she withdrew it; if he tried to place his hand on the little skirt, at which he gazed with covetous eyes, she pushed him away roughly, and exclaimed in her sternest tone:

"I won't have you touch my skirt; that is forbidden!"

Thereupon our gallant heaved profound sighs, to which she replied by laughing heartily, and by mischievous glances which made her prettier than ever; for, while confining her neighbor strictly within the limits of respect, Mademoiselle Georgette did not hesitate to employ all the little coquettish arts that make a man more enamored than ever and put the finishing touch to his distraction.

The result was that one day, on leaving Georgette, who had done nothing but walk about the room in her simple morning costume, Monsieur de Mardeille exclaimed:

"Well! I can't do anything else! I'll send her a little brooch--in diamonds--rose ones--something not too expensive; and yet it must be pretty; for if it isn't, I know her well enough to know that she is quite capable of making a fool of me again. Oh! these women! to think that I never spent a sou on them! And this little hussy has made me depart from my custom, and now I'm as big a fool as other men."

The next day, when he presented himself at his neighbor's door, Monsieur de Mardeille was amiable and lively and in high spirits; one would have taken him for a boy of twenty. Having taken a seat beside Georgette, he took a little pasteboard box from his pocket and handed it to her, saying:

"Allow me, my charming friend, to offer you this token, this proof, of my affection; and be assured that in offering it to you I do not consider that it gives me the slightest claim to your love; I desire to owe that to your heart alone."

"Good! that is very well said," replied Georgette, hastily opening the box, in which she found a little brooch, worth eight or nine hundred francs, and very effective.

"Oh! this is most gallant of you!" she cried. "Really, monsieur, you are coming on!"

"What's that? I am coming on?" thought Mardeille; "what does she mean by that? No matter! I won't ask any questions. This will touch her, and I am sure that to-morrow she will be the one to say: 'I expect you to-night.'"

"This is a lovely brooch," said Georgette.

"And you will deign to accept it?"

"Will I accept it? Most assuredly, monsieur, and I am very grateful to you."

"She is grateful for it; that's good!" said our seducer to himself; "the rest will go of itself. I won't commit the blunder of seeking payment now for my present; I'll go away, that will be more adroit.--I am obliged to leave you, my dear neighbor," he said, rising.

"Already, monsieur?"

"That word is very pleasant in your mouth!--Yes--I have some urgent business to attend to. I leave you so soon with the greatest regret, but to-morrow, I hope, I shall be more fortunate."

"I hope so, too, monsieur."

Mardeille bowed most respectfully to the young woman; without even taking her hand. He took his leave, enchanted with what he had done.

"I have taken the right way," he thought. "Women are stubborn, as a general rule; to refrain from asking them for anything is enough to induce them to grant you everything. The little one is mine now!"

XIV

COLINET'S SECOND VISIT

On the day following the gift of the brooch, Monsieur de Mardeille, buoyed up by the sweetest hopes, left his couch with this thought in his mind:

"I will make a careful toilet, but I won't go to see my young friend too early; I must let her wish for my coming. After breakfast I will go to my window, and I am sure that Georgette will beckon me to come to her. Yes, that is the more adroit way."

Monsieur de Mardeille breakfasted slowly; he enjoyed his coffee as, in anticipation, he enjoyed his coming triumph; at last, after glancing over several newspapers, he went to one of the windows looking on the courtyard, thinking that he had given her time enough to wish for his coming and that he would do well to show himself.

On opening his window he looked at once toward his little neighbor's, and saw a young man seated beside Georgette, holding both her hands and gazing at her most affectionately. Thereupon our gallant frowned, compressed his lips, and stared in dismay.

"Sapristi!" he exclaimed; "with a young man! She's with a young man, and she pretends to receive visits from no man but me! And this is her gratitude for my brooch! Ah! we'll see about this! I won't allow myself to be fooled in this way! I must find out who this young man is who holds both her hands, when I can hardly induce her to let me hold one."

The man whom he had discovered in his neighbor's apartment was young Colinet, whom we already know. His dress was almost exactly the same as he had worn on the occasion of his first visit to Georgette, except that his broadcloth trousers were replaced by linen ones, and that he carried a light switch instead of his stout stick. A much greater change had taken place on his face, however; in the intervening three months, his innocent, shy air had given place to one more sedate and thoughtful; it was still frank and open, but the artless expression had disappeared.

"Oh! how glad I am to see you, Mamzelle Georgette!" said Colinet, taking the girl's hands.

"And I to see you, Colinet! It makes me very happy, I can tell you! And you say that everybody at home is well--my father and mother and sisters?"

"Yes, mamzelle, I left them all in good health; and here's a letter that Mamzelle Suzanne, your second sister, gave me for you."

"Oh! give it to me, give it to me quick, Colinet!"

Georgette eagerly seized the letter that the young man had brought her; she broke the seal and read it to herself inaudibly; the expression of her face betrayed her deep interest in its contents. While Georgette was reading, Colinet looked about, apparently making an inspection of the room.

"It's very nice here," he muttered; "much finer than it was in the other place."

Having finished reading the letter, Georgette put it in her bosom, then smiled anew at Colinet, who said:

"Will that letter bring you back to the province?"

"Not yet, Colinet."

"Do you still enjoy yourself more in Paris?"

"It is not that, my friend; but I came here for a certain purpose; and I shall not leave Paris until I have finished what I have begun."

"Ah! you're doing some work here, are you?"

"Yes, my friend."

"And you won't tell me what it is? Perhaps I could help you."

"No, you couldn't help me; and it's better that I shouldn't tell you now what I am trying to do; but you shall know some day; yes, I promise you that some day you shall know everything; and you won't blame me, Colinet; on the contrary, I am sure that you will approve of what I have done."

"Oh! Mamzelle Georgette, I shan't blame you; for I know you, I do, and I know that you ain't capable of doing anything wrong. But, dear me! your head's a little--what do they call it down home?--a little solid; and when you've made up your mind to do something, why, you've got to do it."

"Mayn't one have a strong will, as long as it doesn't lead one to do wrong?"

"Yes, yes! Oh! you can have anything; but you used to _thou_ me, and now I'm sorry to find that you've stopped doing it."

Georgette blushed as she replied:

"That is true, Colinet; but it ought not to hurt your feelings--far from it--for I don't like you any the less on that account. But it seems to me that I ought not to speak to you so familiarly as I used to when we were children."

"If you like me just as much, I ought not to complain; but I love you more and more every day, Georgette."

"Oh! so much the better! that's just what I want! Above all things, don't you ever change; for I count on your love, Colinet!"

"Oh! Mamzelle Georgette, can a man ever change when he loves you?"

"Kiss me, Colinet."

"With all my heart!"

The opposite neighbor did not see the kiss, because all this had taken place before he went to the window.

"What about that Monsieur Dupont I saw in your room so often when I was here before?" queried Colinet; "do you still see him?"

"No, Colinet, I don't see Monsieur Dupont any more."

The young man smiled. He seemed delighted to hear that; but his brow grew dark when Georgette added:

"No, I never see him now, but I do see another man."

"Ah! you have made the acquaintance of another man?"

"Yes, a very stylish gentleman who lives in this house; he comes to see me very often."

"Very often?"

"You'll probably see him very soon. Then, as I shall tell him, which is perfectly true, that you are an old playfellow of mine, don't forget that I am supposed to be a Norman."

"A Norman! But that isn't true; you are from Toul, in Lorraine."

"I know that very well, Colinet; but that is just what this gentleman mustn't find out; and, above all things, don't mention my parents' name before him--remember that."

"Why on earth do you make all this mystery with this man? You haven't ever done anything wrong, I know; so why do you conceal your family name, mamzelle?"

"You told me that you had confidence in me, Colinet."

"To be sure--I have it still."

"In that case, my friend, don't ask me questions that I can't answer now. I have told you that it will all be explained some day, and that ought to be enough for you."

"That's true, mamzelle; I was wrong to ask you questions; I won't say any more about it.--So you're a Norman, are you?"

"Yes; from a little village near Rouen."

"What's the name of the village?"

"The name? I haven't an idea; what difference does it make? any name will do. That man doesn't know all the suburbs of Rouen. Call it Belair--there are Belairs in every province."

"All right; and I'm a Norman, too, I suppose?"

"Of course."

"And may I still raise calves?"

"Why not? cattle are raised everywhere. Hush! I hear my neighbor coming upstairs."

Monsieur de Mardeille had crossed the courtyard like a rocket; he ran up the stairs without stopping for breath, entered Georgette's room like a shot out of a catapult, and, without even acknowledging the salutation of Colinet, who rose as he entered, he took his stand in front of the young woman and exclaimed in a hoarse voice:

"It is I, mademoiselle!"

"So I see, monsieur," replied Georgette, with a smile.

"You didn't expect me--that is to say, not at this moment, I fancy."

"Why not, pray, monsieur? I never expect you. You come when you please; neighbors don't stand on ceremony."

"Yes--but I thought--I didn't expect to find you with company, as you said you never received anybody but me."

The girl's face became grave and stern; she looked at Monsieur de Mardeille with a wrathful expression, exclaiming:

"Let me tell you, monsieur, that I consider that what you have just said is in the worst possible taste. If, up to the present time, it has suited me to receive no other visits than yours, you may be perfectly sure that it hasn't been from any desire to be agreeable to you."

"Mademoiselle, I----"

"Upon my word, to hear you, anyone would think that I am dependent on you, that you have some claim over me! You make me blush for you, monsieur!"

The ex-beau turned as red as a gobbler; he shuffled his feet about and tore his gloves, but did not know what to reply.

"To-day," continued Georgette, "my old playfellow, the friend of my childhood, who has just come from our province to bring me news of my relatives, has called on me. He will always be welcome in my home. I was about to introduce him to you, monsieur, when you began to say such nonsensical things! You were not polite enough to acknowledge the bow my friend Colinet gave you when you came in. You know so well what is customary and proper, monsieur, that you will allow me to believe that you are not in your ordinary frame of mind this morning, and that something has happened to upset you.--Sit down again, Colinet, my friend."

Monsieur de Mardeille did not know where he was; Georgette's haughty glance had rooted him to the floor. At last, he turned to Colinet and made him a low bow; then he concluded to take a chair, muttering, as he did so:

"Yes, it is true, I have a sick headache this morning, a very bad one; it makes me feel wretched."

"All right! tell us that, and we will excuse you for being in an ill humor.--Colinet, my friend, are you in Paris for long?"

"Oh! no, Mamzelle Georgette; I can only stay one day; I must go back to-morrow afternoon."

The neighbor's face became amiable once more; he straightened himself up in his chair.

"What makes you in such a hurry, Colinet?"

"I have several places to stop at on my way back--to collect the price of cattle we've sold."

"Monsieur is a cattle raiser?" Mardeille inquired.

"Yes, monsieur; I deal in horned cattle mostly, because there's always a market for them."

"Yes, yes, it's an excellent business," said Monsieur de Mardeille.--Then he leaned toward Georgette and said to her, almost timidly:

"You're not wearing your brooch?"

"Well, I should think not--with my jacket!" laughed Georgette. "Is it customary to put on a brooch so early in the morning?"

"Have you got a chicken to roast?"[G] queried Colinet. "I'll help you, if you want; I know all about chickens."

Georgette laughed aloud, and Monsieur de Mardeille tried to do the same; but his laughter was not sincere.

"We're not talking about chickens, my dear Colinet, nor of the kind of _broche_ you have in mind," said the young shirtmaker, when her merriment had somewhat abated. "Oh! I don't live so magnificently as that; my repasts are more modest. Still, my friend, if you will breakfast with me to-morrow, before you go away, I will have a sausage and a meat pie; with those and a good appetite, one can breakfast perfectly--isn't that so?"

"To be sure, mamzelle; I won't fail to be here."

"If Monsieur de Mardeille would like to join us, and doesn't consider our breakfast unworthy of him, he would give us great pleasure by accepting my invitation."

Our dandy's face became radiant. He bowed and said:

"Unworthy of me! A repast over which you preside! Why, on the contrary, it will seem delicious to me, and I accept your kind invitation with all my heart. But I will ask your permission to bring a few bottles of wine from my cellar; that will do no harm."

"Oh! bring whatever you choose; we are not proud; we accept whatever anyone offers us."

"In that case, my charming neighbor, it's a bargain; I will breakfast with you to-morrow. Meanwhile, I will leave you, for you may have a thousand messages to give monsieur for your relations and friends, commissions to intrust to him, and I should be very sorry to incommode you. Au revoir, my dear neighbor!--Bonjour, monsieur, until to-morrow!--At what hour do you breakfast, neighbor?"

"At ten o'clock, monsieur."

"Very good; I will be on time."

And the ex-beau retired, as well pleased as he had been furious when he arrived; a few words from Georgette had sufficed to effect this revolution in his humor; to be sure, she had a way of saying them which precluded the possibility of a reply.

After Monsieur de Mardeille had gone, Colinet seemed to be reflecting profoundly, and Georgette asked him:

"What are you thinking about, my friend?"

"About that gentleman who was here just now. How he spoke to you when he came in!"

"And you heard how I answered him."

"Oh! that did my heart good! Is that old beau making love to you?"

"Yes; but don't be alarmed, Colinet; he's no more dangerous to me than Monsieur Dupont was."