"I did it to make a Croquemitaine of him, papa."
"I have forbidden you a hundred times to touch any of my things.--And you, mademoiselle, what are you whipping your brother with?"
"Papa, with----"
"With a bunch of quills that was on my desk--very expensive quills, rooster"s quills, which I keep to write my circulars with. Who gave you leave to touch anything on my desk? But just come here, Monsieur Theodore. What did you make those ears with?"
"With a paper that was on the floor, papa."
"On the floor! G.o.d bless me! it is Monsieur Mermillon"s letter, in which he tells me in detail what his daughter"s dowry will be! You little villain! to make horse"s ears with my letters! Some day he will take thousand-franc notes from my desk to make horns with. I will deal with you, young man."
Giraud started to run after his son, but I stopped him; I heard madame calling in an angry voice:
"Giraud! Giraud! aren"t you coming to finish dressing me? Francoise doesn"t know how to fasten my dress; that girl is frightfully awkward."
"There, there it is," said Giraud; "she is going to send her back again because she don"t fasten her dress quickly enough. It is always the same story. Faith, I don"t care, let her fix herself! Just look at my thumbs; I haven"t any flesh left round my nails."
Someone half opened the bedroom door; Madame Giraud stood at the entrance half dressed, and behind her came the maid, who resumed her broom, muttering:
"Ah! what a dog"s life! as if I came here to squeeze her waist in!"
At sight of me, Madame Giraud took one step backward, then three forward, and exclaimed:
"Oh! pray excuse my disorderly appearance, Monsieur Blemont, but Monsieur Giraud is a terrible man; he never finishes dressing me! But I can"t remain half dressed. I give you my word, monsieur, that this dress is too big for me."
"And I give you my word, wife, that my thumbs are sore."
"Bah! you are a tender creature; and I have three calls to make before dinner, and you know that we dine at Madame Dumeillan"s, who has a box at the Porte-Saint-Martin."
"That is so, we dine out. Just imagine, my dear Blemont, that we have so many invitations that we don"t know which to accept."
"They dine early too. Oh dear! how unfortunate I am! I shall never be ready in time."
Madame Giraud had said enough for me. Delighted by what I had learned, I walked toward her.
"If you will allow me, madame, perhaps I may be more successful than your maid."
Madame Giraud smiled most graciously at me and instantly turned her back, saying:
"How kind you are, Monsieur Blemont! What, do you really mean that you----?"
"With great pleasure, madame."
I was not a novice at fastening dresses; I took the belt on each side, and although I hurt my fingers a little, the dress was fastened; and I did it as if it had cost me no effort at all.
"That"s the way," cried Madame Giraud triumphantly; "that"s the way; isn"t it, Monsieur Blemont?"
"Yes, madame; it"s all right now."
"There, Monsieur Giraud, you see. When one knows how--and monsieur did not seem to make any effort."
"No, madame, none at all."
"Faith, my dear fellow," said Giraud, "if you will come here every day when madame is dressing, you will do me a great favor."
"Hush, Monsieur Giraud; you ought to be ashamed.--Excuse me, Monsieur Blemont; I must go and finish dressing. A thousand thanks."
Madame returned to her room, and Giraud invited me to sit down in a corner of the salon that had been swept; but I took my hat and bade him adieu; he escorted me as far as the landing, saying:
"My friend, marry. Believe me, it is the happiest state. I have three superb matches at your disposal."
"All right, we will see."
"If your stick is found, I will put it away."
"Oh! I am inclined to think, after all, that I didn"t leave it here.
Adieu."
So Mademoiselle Eugenie would be at the Porte-Saint-Martin Theatre that evening. The Girauds would be with them, so I should have an excuse for going to pay my respects to them. And yet those Girauds were so stupid, so ridiculous, with their mania for marrying everybody; I was sorry to find that they were intimate with those ladies. But perhaps it was only a society intimacy; one of those in which people call on one another merely to pa.s.s the time, but do not care for one another.
I awaited the evening not too impatiently, for I was not in love. I desired to see the young woman again because I had nothing better to do, and because my eyes, fatigued by feigning love so long, ached to rest upon other charms in order to recover a little of the fire which they had lost.
I went to the theatre late, for I desired that they should be there when I arrived. I cast my eyes over the boxes, and I discovered the ladies in an open box on the first tier. The mother and Madame Giraud were in front, Mademoiselle Eugenie on the second bench. I did not see Giraud; probably he had some marriage to arrange that evening. There was a vacant seat beside Mademoiselle Eugenie. Did I dare? But the box was theirs and I could not presume to go in; it was essential that I should be invited.
The young woman seemed to me even prettier than the night before. Her simpler gown and headdress added to her charms. She did not see me, so I was able to scrutinize her at my leisure. There was a seat in a box near theirs; should I take it? No, that would be showing my desire to speak to them too plainly.
The performance had begun. They did not see me, although I had drawn nearer to them. Madame Giraud was entirely engrossed by her figure. I was sure that she was suffocating. She did not know enough to look in my direction.
Someone opened the door of their box,--Giraud, no doubt. No, it was a young man; he saluted the ladies and Mademoiselle Dumeillan smiled upon him; she talked and laughed with him! It was well worth while for me to go there to see that! Mon Dieu! how stupid a man can be! I was jealous, and all on account of a person whom I hardly knew, and to whom I had not said a word of love. Was not that young woman at liberty to have a lover, ten lovers indeed, if she chose? I blushed at my folly, and to prove to myself that she was absolutely indifferent to me, I went at once to the box next to hers, for I did not see why the presence of those ladies, who were almost strangers to me, should prevent me from talking with Madame Giraud, whose dress I had fastened that morning.
I entered the box. I did not look at Mademoiselle Eugenie; indeed, I pretended not to see the ladies. But in a moment Madame Giraud called to me:
"Good-evening, Monsieur Blemont. How kind of you to come to see us! So you remembered that I said that I was coming here to-night with these ladies?"
The devil take Madame Giraud with her memory! I replied very deliberately:
"No, madame, I did not know, I had no idea--but I agreed to meet somebody here; that is why I came."
Then I bowed coldly to Madame Dumeillan and her daughter, after which I turned and looked at the audience. But Madame Giraud soon began again to talk to me; she was inclined to overwhelm me with marks of friendliness since I had succeeded in fastening her dress.
I pretended to listen to Madame Giraud, but I had no idea of what she was saying. I was listening to the young man who was talking to Mademoiselle Eugenie. His remarks were very vague; he had nothing particular to say to her, and talked about nothing but the play. I felt that my ill humor was vanishing. I turned toward the ladies and joined in the conversation, but I did not rest my eyes on Mademoiselle Eugenie.
I should have been sorry that she should think that I had come there on her account.
Before long the young man took leave of the ladies and returned to his party. He left her; did that mean that he was not in love with her? I cast a furtive glance at Mademoiselle Dumeillan. After that young man"s departure she was as light-hearted and seemed to enjoy herself as much as when he was there. I began to think that I was mistaken and that he was not a lover.
Thereupon I moved close to their box, and during the performance I exchanged a few words with Mademoiselle Eugenie. Once my hand touched hers, which was resting on the rail that separated us; the contact was a mere chance; our two hands touched, she hastily withdrew hers, and I did the same, faltering some words of apology. But that lovely hand when it touched mine caused me a thrill of delicious emotion. A simple touch produced such an effect as that! I would have liked to know if Mademoiselle Eugenie--but she was not looking in my direction.
In the next intermission, Madame Giraud, who was talking with Madame Dumeillan, suddenly turned to me and said: