CHAPTER XIV.
M. FINGRET.
Madame de la Motte, looking at all this, began to perceive how much shewanted. She wanted a drawing-room to hold sofas and lounging-chairs; adining-room for tables and sideboards; and a boudoir for Persiancurtains, screens, and knick-knacks; above all, she wanted the money tobuy all these things. But in Paris, whatever you cannot afford to buy,you can hire; and Madame de la Motte set her heart on a set of furniturecovered in yellow silk, with gilt nails, which she thought would be verybecoming to her dark complexion. But this furniture she felt sure wouldnever go into her rooms on the fifth story; it would be necessary tohire the third, which was composed of an ante-chamber, a dining-room,small drawing-room, and bedroom, so that she might, she thought, receiveon this third story the visits of the cardinal, and on the fifth thoseof ladies of charity--that is to say, receive in luxury those who givefrom ostentation, and in poverty those who only desire to give when itis needed.
The countess, having made all these reflections, turned to where M.Fingret himself stood, with his hat in his hand, waiting for hercommands.
"Madame?" said he in a tone of interrogation, advancing towards her.
"Madame la Comtesse de la Motte Valois," said Jeanne.
At this high-sounding name M. Fingret bowed low, and said: "But there isnothing in this room worthy Madame la Comtesse's inspection. If madamewill take the trouble to step into the next one, she will see what isnew and beautiful."
Jeanne colored. All this had seemed so splendid to her, too splendideven to hope to possess it; and this high opinion of M. Fingret'sconcerning her perplexed her not a little. She regretted that she hadnot announced herself as a simple bourgeoise; but it was necessary tospeak, so she said, "I do not wish for new furniture."
"Madame has doubtless some friend's apartments to furnish?"
"Just so," she replied.
"Will madame, then, choose?" said M. Fingret, who did not care whetherhe sold new or old, as he gained equally by both.
"This set," said Jeanne, pointing to the yellow silk one.
"That is such a small set, madame."
"Oh, the rooms are small."
"It is nearly new, as madame may see."
"But the price?"
"Eight hundred francs."
The price made the countess tremble; and how was she to confess that acountess was content with second-hand things, and then could not affordto pay eight hundred francs for them? She therefore thought the bestthing was to appear angry, and said: "Who thinks of buying, sir? Who doyou think would buy such old things? I only want to hire."
Fingret made a grimace; his customer began gradually to lose her valuein his eyes. She did not want to buy new things, only to hire old ones,"You wish it for a year?" he asked.
"No, only for a month. It is for some one coming from the country."
"It will be one hundred francs a month."
"You jest, surely, monsieur; why, in eight months I should have paid thefull price of it."
"Granted, Madame la Comtesse."
"Well, is not that too bad?"
"I shall have the expense of doing it up again when you return it."
Madame de la Motte reflected. "One hundred francs a month is very dear,certainly; but either I can return it at the end of that time and say itis too dear, or I shall then perhaps be in a situation to buy."
"I will take it," she said, "with curtains to match."
"Yes, madame."
"And carpets."
"Here they are."
"What can you give me for another room?"
"These oak chairs, this table with twisted legs, and green damaskcurtains."
"And for a bedroom?"
"A large and handsome bed, a counterpane of velvet embroidered inrose-color and silver, an excellent couch, and blue curtains."
"And for my dressing-room?"
"A toilet-table hung with Mechlin lace; chest of drawers withmarqueterie; sofa and chairs of tapestry. The whole came from thebedroom of Madame de Pompadour at Choisy."
"All this for what price?"
"For a month?"
"Yes."
"Four hundred francs."
"Come, Monsieur Fingret, do not take me for a grisette who is dazzled byyour fine descriptions. Please to reflect that you are asking at therate of four thousand eight hundred francs a year, and for that I cantake a whole furnished house. You disgust me with the Place Royale."
"I am very sorry, madame."
"Prove it, then; I will only give half that price." Jeanne pronouncedthese words with so much authority that the merchant began again tothink she might be worth conciliating.
"So be it, then, madame."
"And on one condition, M. Fingret."
"What, madame?"
"That everything be arranged in its proper place by three o'clock."
"But consider, madame, it is now ten."
"Can you do it or not?"
"Where must they go to?"
"Rue St. Claude."
"Close by?"
"Precisely."
The upholsterer opened a door, and called, "Sylvain! Landry! Remy!"
Three men answered to the call.
"The carts and the trucks instantly. Remy, you shall take this yellowfurniture; Sylvain, you take that for the dining-room; and you, Landry,that for the bedroom. Here is the bill, madame; shall I receipt it?"
"Here are six double louis," she said, "and you can give the change tothese men if the order is completed in time;" and, having given heraddress, she reentered her coach.
On her return she engaged the third floor, and in a few hours all was inorder.
The lodgings thus transformed, the windows cleaned, and the fireslighted, Jeanne went again to her toilet, which she made as recherche aspossible, and then took a last look at all the delights around her.Nothing had been forgotten: there were gilded branches from the wallsfor wax-lights, and glass lusters on each side of the mirror; Jeanne hadalso added flowers, to complete the embellishment of the paradise inwhich she intended to receive his eminence. She took care even to leavethe door of the bedroom a little open, through which the light of abright fire gave a glimpse of the luxuries within.
All these preparations completed, she seated herself in a chair by thefire, with a book in her hand, listening eagerly to the sound of everycarriage that passed; but nine, ten, and eleven o'clock struck, and noone came. Still she did not despair; it was not too late for a gallantprelate, who had probably been first to some supper, and would come toher from there. But at last twelve struck; no one appeared, the lightswere burning low, and the old servant, after many lamentations over hernew cap, had fallen asleep in her chair.
At half-past twelve Jeanne rose furious from her chair, looked out ofwindow for the hundredth time, and, seeing no one near, undressedherself and went to bed, refusing supper, or to answer any of theremarks made to her by Clotilde; and on her sumptuous bed, under herbeautiful curtains, she experienced no better rest than she had on theprevious night. At last, however, her anger began a little to abate, andshe commenced framing excuses for the cardinal. He had so much to occupyhim, he must have been detained, and, most potent of all, he had notyet seen her. She would not have been so easily consoled if he hadbroken the promise of a second visit.