"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 cl.u.s.ter 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 _poesie_--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 ma.n.u.script. Mr. Chester, that other story--of my _grand"mere_, "Maud"; how did you like that?"
"It left me in love with your _grand"mere_."
"Notwithstanding she became what they used to call--you know the word."
"Yes, "n.i.g.g.e.r-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?"
"a.s.suredly. 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!"
IX
Again the Castanados" dainty parlor, more dainty than ever. No one there was in evening dress, though with its privacy "modified as the Castanados pleased," it had gathered a company of seven.
Chester, not yet come, would make an eighth. Madame was in her special chair. And here, besides her husband, were both M. and Mme. De l"Isle, Mme. Alexandre and Scipion Beloiseau. The seventh was M. Placide Dubroca, perfumer; a man of fifty or so, his black hair and mustache inclined to curl and his eyes spirited yet sympathetic. Just entered, he was telling how consumed with regret his wife was, to be kept away--by an old promise to an old friend to go with her to that wonderful movie, "Les Trois Mousquetaires," when Chester came in and almost at once a general debate on Mlle. Chapdelaine"s ma.n.u.script was in full coruscation.
"In the firs" place," one said--though the best place he could seize was the seventeenth--"firs" place of all--compet.i.tion! My frien"s, we cannot hope to nig-otiate with that North in the old manner which we are proud, a few of us yet, to _con_-tinue in the rue Royale. Every publisher----"
Mme. Castanado had a quotation that could not wait: "We got to be "wise like snake" an" innocent like pigeon"!""
"Precizely! Every publisher approach" mus" know he"s bidding agains"
every other! Maybe they are honess men, and _if_ so they"ll be rij-oice"!"
A non-listener was trying to squeeze in: "And sec"--and sec"--and secon" thing--if not firs"--is guarantee! They mus" pay so much profit in advance. Else it be better to publish without a publisher, and with advertis.e.m.e.nt" front and back! Tiffany, Royal Baking-Powder, Ivory Soap it Float"! Ten thousand dolla" the page that _Ladies" "Ome Journal_ get", and if we get even ten dolla" the page--I know a man what make that way three hundred dolla"!"
"He make that net or gross?" some one asked.
"Ah! I think, not counting his time _sol_-iciting those advertis.e.m.e.nt", he make it _nearly_ net."
Chester made show of breaking in and three speakers at once begged him to proceed: "How much of a book," he asked Mme. Castanado, "will the ma.n.u.script make? How long is it?"
She looked falteringly to her husband: ""Tis about a foot long, nine inch" wide. Marcel, pazz that to monsieur."
The husband complied. Chester counted the lines of one of the pages.
Madame watched him anxiously.
"Tha"z too wide?" she inquired.
"It isn"t long enough to make a book. To do that would take--oh--seven times as much."
"Ah!" Madame"s voice grew in sweetness as it rose: "So much the better! So much the more room for those advertis.e.m.e.nt"!--and picture"!"