Page 8 of Sentimental Education; Or, The History of a Young Man. Volume 1

  CHAPTER VIII.

  Frederick Entertains

  Frederick found a little mansion at the corner of the Rue Rumfort, andhe bought it along with the brougham, the horse, the furniture, and twoflower-stands which were taken from the Arnoux's house to be placed oneach side of his drawing-room door. In the rear of this apartment were abedroom and a closet. The idea occurred to his mind to put upDeslauriers there. But how could he receive her--_her_, his futuremistress? The presence of a friend would be an obstacle. He knocked downthe partition-wall in order to enlarge the drawing-room, and convertedthe closet into a smoking-room.

  He bought the works of the poets whom he loved, books of travel,atlases, and dictionaries, for he had innumerable plans of study. Hehurried on the workmen, rushed about to the different shops, and in hisimpatience to enjoy, carried off everything without even holding out fora bargain beforehand.

  From the tradesmen's bills, Frederick ascertained that he would have toexpend very soon forty thousand francs, not including the successionduties, which would exceed thirty-seven thousand. As his fortune was inlanded property, he wrote to the notary at Havre to sell a portion of itin order to pay off his debts, and to have some money at his disposal.Then, anxious to become acquainted at last with that vague entity,glittering and indefinable, which is known as "society," he sent a noteto the Dambreuses to know whether he might be at liberty to call uponthem. Madame, in reply, said she would expect a visit from him thefollowing day.

  This happened to be their reception-day. Carriages were standing in thecourtyard. Two footmen rushed forward under the marquee, and a third atthe head of the stairs began walking in front of him.

  He was conducted through an anteroom, a second room, and then adrawing-room with high windows and a monumental mantel-shelf supportinga time-piece in the form of a sphere, and two enormous porcelain vases,in each of which bristled, like a golden bush, a cluster of sconces.Pictures in the manner of Espagnolet hung on the walls. The heavytapestry portieres fell majestically, and the armchairs, the brackets,the tables, the entire furniture, which was in the style of the SecondEmpire, had a certain imposing and diplomatic air.

  Frederick smiled with pleasure in spite of himself.

  At last he reached an oval apartment wainscoted in cypress-wood, stuffedwith dainty furniture, and letting in the light through a single sheetof plate-glass, which looked out on a garden. Madame Dambreuse wasseated at the fireside, with a dozen persons gathered round her in acircle. With a polite greeting, she made a sign to him to take a seat,without, however, exhibiting any surprise at not having seen him for solong a time.

  Just at the moment when he was entering the room, they had been praisingthe eloquence of the Abbe Coeur. Then they deplored the immorality ofservants, a topic suggested by a theft which a _valet-de-chambre_ hadcommitted, and they began to indulge in tittle-tattle. Old Madame deSommery had a cold; Mademoiselle de Turvisot had got married; theMontcharrons would not return before the end of January; neither wouldthe Bretancourts, now that people remained in the country till a lateperiod of the year. And the triviality of the conversation was, so tospeak, intensified by the luxuriousness of the surroundings; but whatthey said was less stupid than their way of talking, which was aimless,disconnected, and utterly devoid of animation. And yet there werepresent men versed in life--an ex-minister, the cure of a large parish,two or three Government officials of high rank. They adhered to the mosthackneyed commonplaces. Some of them resembled weary dowagers; othershad the appearance of horse-jockeys; and old men accompanied theirwives, of whom they were old enough to be the grandfathers.

  Madame Dambreuse received all of them graciously. When it was mentionedthat anyone was ill, she knitted her brows with a painful expression onher face, and when balls or evening parties were discussed, assumed ajoyous air. She would ere long be compelled to deprive herself of thesepleasures, for she was going to take away from a boarding-school a nieceof her husband, an orphan. The guests extolled her devotedness: this wasbehaving like a true mother of a family.

  Frederick gazed at her attentively. The dull skin of her face looked asif it had been stretched out, and had a bloom in which there was nobrilliancy; like that of preserved fruit. But her hair, which was incorkscrew curls, after the English fashion, was finer than silk; hereyes of a sparkling blue; and all her movements were dainty. Seated atthe lower end of the apartment, on a small sofa, she kept brushing offthe red flock from a Japanese screen, no doubt in order to let her handsbe seen to greater advantage--long narrow hands, a little thin, withfingers tilting up at the points. She wore a grey moire gown with ahigh-necked body, like a Puritan lady.

  Frederick asked her whether she intended to go to La Fortelle this year.Madame Dambreuse was unable to say. He was sure, however, of one thing,that one would be bored to death in Nogent.

  Then the visitors thronged in more quickly. There was an incessantrustling of robes on the carpet. Ladies, seated on the edges of chairs,gave vent to little sneering laughs, articulated two or three words, andat the end of five minutes left along with their young daughters. Itsoon became impossible to follow the conversation, and Frederickwithdrew when Madame Dambreuse said to him:

  "Every Wednesday, is it not, Monsieur Moreau?" making up for herprevious display of indifference by these simple words.

  He was satisfied. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath when he got outinto the open air; and, needing a less artificial environment, Frederickrecalled to mind that he owed the Marechale a visit.

  The door of the anteroom was open. Two Havanese lapdogs rushed forward.A voice exclaimed:

  "Delphine! Delphine! Is that you, Felix?"

  He stood there without advancing a step. The two little dogs keptyelping continually. At length Rosanette appeared, wrapped up in a sortof dressing-gown of white muslin trimmed with lace, and with herstockingless feet in Turkish slippers.

  "Ah! excuse me, Monsieur! I thought it was the hairdresser. One minute;I am coming back!"

  And he was left alone in the dining-room. The Venetian blinds wereclosed. Frederick, as he cast a glance round, was beginning to recallthe hubbub of the other night, when he noticed on the table, in themiddle of the room, a man's hat, an old felt hat, bruised, greasy,dirty. To whom did this hat belong? Impudently displaying its tornlining, it seemed to say:

  "I have the laugh, after all! I am the master!"

  The Marechale suddenly reappeared on the scene. She took up the hat,opened the conservatory, flung it in there, shut the door again (otherdoors flew open and closed again at the same moment), and, havingbrought Frederick through the kitchen, she introduced him into herdressing-room.

  It could at once be seen that this was the most frequented room in thehouse, and, so to speak, its true moral centre. The walls, thearmchairs, and a big divan with a spring were adorned with a chintzpattern on which was traced a great deal of foliage. On a white marbletable stood two large washhand-basins of fine blue earthenware. Crystalshelves, forming a whatnot overhead, were laden with phials, brushes,combs, sticks of cosmetic, and powder-boxes. The fire was reflected in ahigh cheval-glass. A sheet was hanging outside a bath, and odours ofalmond-paste and of benzoin were exhaled.

  "You'll excuse the disorder. I'm dining in the city this evening."

  And as she turned on her heel, she was near crushing one of the littledogs. Frederick declared that they were charming. She lifted up the pairof them, and raising their black snouts up to her face:

  "Come! do a laugh--kiss the gentleman!"

  A man dressed in a dirty overcoat with a fur collar here enteredabruptly.

  "Felix, my worthy fellow," said she, "you'll have that business of yoursdisposed of next Sunday without fail."

  The man proceeded to dress her hair. Frederick told her he had heardnews of her friends, Madame de Rochegune, Madame de Saint-Florentin, andMadame Lombard, every woman being noble, as if it were at the mansion ofthe Dambreuses. Then he talked about the theatres. An extraordinaryperformance was to be given that evening at the
Ambigu.

  "Shall you go?"

  "Faith, no! I'm staying at home."

  Delphine appeared. Her mistress gave her a scolding for having gone outwithout permission.

  The other vowed that she was just "returning from market."

  "Well, bring me your book. You have no objection, isn't that so?"

  And, reading the pass-book in a low tone, Rosanette made remarks onevery item. The different sums were not added up correctly.

  "Hand me over four sous!"

  Delphine handed the amount over to her, and, when she had sent the maidaway:

  "Ah! Holy Virgin! could I be more unfortunate than I am with thesecreatures?"

  Frederick was shocked at this complaint about servants. It recalled theothers too vividly to his mind, and established between the two houses akind of vexatious equality.

  When Delphine came back again, she drew close to the Marechale's side inorder to whisper something in her ear.

  "Ah, no! I don't want her!"

  Delphine presented herself once more.

  "Madame, she insists."

  "Ah, what a plague! Throw her out!"

  At the same moment, an old lady, dressed in black, pushed forward thedoor. Frederick heard nothing, saw nothing. Rosanette rushed into herapartment to meet her.

  When she reappeared her cheeks were flushed, and she sat down in one ofthe armchairs without saying a word. A tear fell down her face; then,turning towards the young man, softly:

  "What is your Christian name?"

  "Frederick."

  "Ha! Federico! It doesn't annoy you when I address you in that way?"

  And she gazed at him in a coaxing sort of way that was almost amorous.

  All of a sudden she uttered an exclamation of delight at the sight ofMademoiselle Vatnaz.

  The lady-artist had no time to lose before presiding at her _tabled'hote_ at six o'clock sharp; and she was panting for breath, beingcompletely exhausted. She first took out of her pocket a gold chain in apaper, then various objects that she had bought.

  "You should know that there are in the Rue Joubert splendid Suede glovesat thirty-six sous. Your dyer wants eight days more. As for the guipure,I told you that they would dye it again. Bugneaux has got the instalmentyou paid. That's all, I think. You owe me a hundred and eighty-fivefrancs."

  Rosanette went to a drawer to get ten napoleons. Neither of the pair hadany money. Frederick offered some.

  "I'll pay you back," said the Vatnaz, as she stuffed the fifteen francsinto her handbag. "But you are a naughty boy! I don't love you anylonger--you didn't get me to dance with you even once the other evening!Ah! my dear, I came across a case of stuffed humming-birds which areperfect loves at a shop in the Quai Voltaire. If I were in your place, Iwould make myself a present of them. Look here! What do you think ofit?"

  And she exhibited an old remnant of pink silk which she had purchased atthe Temple to make a mediaeval doublet for Delmar.

  "He came to-day, didn't he?"

  "No."

  "That's singular."

  And, after a minute's silence:

  "Where are you going this evening?"

  "To Alphonsine's," said Rosanette, this being the third version given byher as to the way in which she was going to pass the evening.

  Mademoiselle Vatnaz went on: "And what news about the old man of themountain?"

  But, with an abrupt wink, the Marechale bade her hold her tongue; andshe accompanied Frederick out as far as the anteroom to ascertain fromhim whether he would soon see Arnoux.

  "Pray ask him to come--not before his wife, mind!"

  At the top of the stairs an umbrella was placed against the wall near apair of goloshes.

  "Vatnaz's goloshes," said Rosanette. "What a foot, eh? My little friendis rather strongly built!"

  And, in a melodramatic tone, making the final letter of the word roll:

  "Don't tru-us-st her!"

  Frederick, emboldened by a confidence of this sort, tried to kiss her onthe neck.

  "Oh, do it! It costs nothing!"

  He felt rather light-hearted as he left her, having no doubt that erelong the Marechale would be his mistress. This desire awakened anotherin him; and, in spite of the species of grudge that he owed her, he felta longing to see Madame Arnoux.

  Besides, he would have to call at her house in order to execute thecommission with which he had been entrusted by Rosanette.

  "But now," thought he (it had just struck six), "Arnoux is probably athome."

  So he put off his visit till the following day.

  She was seated in the same attitude as on the former day, and was sewinga little boy's shirt.

  The child, at her feet, was playing with a wooden toy menagerie. Marthe,a short distance away, was writing.

  He began by complimenting her on her children. She replied without anyexaggeration of maternal silliness.

  The room had a tranquil aspect. A glow of sunshine stole in through thewindow-panes, lighting up the angles of the different articles offurniture, and, as Madame Arnoux sat close beside the window, a largeray, falling on the curls over the nape of her neck, penetrated withliquid gold her skin, which assumed the colour of amber.

  Then he said:

  "This young lady here has grown very tall during the past three years!Do you remember, Mademoiselle, when you slept on my knees in thecarriage?"

  Marthe did not remember.

  "One evening, returning from Saint-Cloud?"

  There was a look of peculiar sadness in Madame

  Arnoux's face. Was it in order to prevent any allusion on his part tothe memories they possessed in common?

  Her beautiful black eyes, whose sclerotics were glistening, moved gentlyunder their somewhat drooping lids, and her pupils revealed in theirdepths an inexpressible kindness of heart. He was seized with a lovestronger than ever, a passion that knew no bounds. It enervated him tocontemplate the object of his attachment; however, he shook off thisfeeling. How was he to make the most of himself? by what means? And,having turned the matter over thoroughly in his mind, Frederick couldthink of none that seemed more effectual than money.

  He began talking about the weather, which was less cold than it had beenat Havre.

  "You have been there?"

  "Yes; about a family matter--an inheritance."

  "Ah! I am very glad," she said, with an air of such genuine pleasurethat he felt quite touched, just as if she had rendered him a greatservice.

  She asked him what he intended to do, as it was necessary for a man tooccupy himself with something.

  He recalled to mind his false position, and said that he hoped to reachthe Council of State with the help of M. Dambreuse, the secretary.

  "You are acquainted with him, perhaps?"

  "Merely by name."

  Then, in a low tone:

  "_He_ brought you to the ball the other night, did he not?"

  Frederick remained silent.

  "That was what I wanted to know; thanks!"

  After that she put two or three discreet questions to him about hisfamily and the part of the country in which he lived. It was very kindof him not to have forgotten them after having lived so long away fromParis.

  "But could I do so?" he rejoined. "Have you any doubt about it?"

  Madame Arnoux arose: "I believe that you entertain towards us a true andsolid affection. _Au revoir!_"

  And she extended her hand towards him in a sincere and virile fashion.

  Was this not an engagement, a promise? Frederick felt a sense of delightat merely living; he had to restrain himself to keep from singing. Hewanted to burst out, to do generous deeds, and to give alms. He lookedaround him to see if there were anyone near whom he could relieve. Nowretch happened to be passing by; and his desire for self-devotionevaporated, for he was not a man to go out of his way to findopportunities for benevolence.

  Then he remembered his friends. The first of whom he thought wasHussonnet, the second, Pellerin. The lowly position of Dussardiernatura
lly called for consideration. As for Cisy, he was glad to let thatyoung aristocrat get a slight glimpse as to the extent of his fortune.He wrote accordingly to all four to come to a housewarming the followingSunday at eleven o'clock sharp; and he told Deslauriers to bringSenecal.

  The tutor had been dismissed from the third boarding-school in which hehad been employed for not having given his consent to the distributionof prizes--a custom which he looked upon as dangerous to equality. Hewas now with an engine-builder, and for the past six months had been nolonger living with Deslauriers. There had been nothing painful abouttheir parting.

  Senecal had been visited by men in blouses--all patriots, all workmen,all honest fellows, but at the same time men whose society seemeddistasteful to the advocate. Besides, he disliked certain ideas of hisfriend, excellent though they might be as weapons of warfare. He heldhis tongue on the subject through motives of ambition, deeming itprudent to pay deference to him in order to exercise control over him,for he looked forward impatiently to a revolutionary movement, in whichhe calculated on making an opening for himself and occupying a prominentposition.

  Senecal's convictions were more disinterested. Every evening, when hiswork was finished, he returned to his garret and sought in books forsomething that might justify his dreams. He had annotated the _ContratSocial_; he had crammed himself with the _Revue Independante_; he wasacquainted with Mably, Morelly, Fourier, Saint-Simon, Comte, Cabet,Louis Blanc--the heavy cartload of Socialistic writers--those who claimfor humanity the dead level of barracks, those who would like to amuseit in a brothel or to bend it over a counter; and from a medley of allthese things he constructed an ideal of virtuous democracy, with thedouble aspect of a farm in which the landlord was to receive a share ofthe produce, and a spinning-mill, a sort of American Lacedaemon, in whichthe individual would only exist for the benefit of society, which was tobe more omnipotent, absolute, infallible, and divine than the GrandLamas and the Nebuchadnezzars. He had no doubt as to the approachingrealisation of this ideal; and Senecal raged against everything that heconsidered hostile to it with the reasoning of a geometrician and thezeal of an Inquisitor. Titles of nobility, crosses, plumes, liveriesabove all, and even reputations that were too loud-sounding scandalisedhim, his studies as well as his sufferings intensifying every day hisessential hatred of every kind of distinction and every form of socialsuperiority.

  "What do I owe to this gentleman that I should be polite to him? If hewants me, he can come to me."

  Deslauriers, however, forced him to go to Frederick's reunion.

  They found their friend in his bedroom. Spring-roller blinds and doublecurtains, Venetian mirrors--nothing was wanting there. Frederick, in avelvet vest, was lying back on an easy-chair, smoking cigarettes ofTurkish tobacco.

  Senecal wore the gloomy look of a bigot arriving in the midst of apleasure-party.

  Deslauriers gave him a single comprehensive glance; then, with a verylow bow:

  "Monseigneur, allow me to pay my respects to you!"

  Dussardier leaped on his neck. "So you are a rich man now. Ah! upon mysoul, so much the better!"

  Cisy made his appearance with crape on his hat. Since the death of hisgrandmother, he was in the enjoyment of a considerable fortune, and wasless bent on amusing himself than on being distinguished fromothers--not being the same as everyone else--in short, on "having theproper stamp." This was his favourite phrase.

  However, it was now midday, and they were all yawning.

  Frederick was waiting for some one.

  At the mention of Arnoux's name, Pellerin made a wry face. He looked onhim as a renegade since he had abandoned the fine arts.

  "Suppose we pass over him--what do you say to that?"

  They all approved of this suggestion.

  The door was opened by a man-servant in long gaiters; and thedining-room could be seen with its lofty oak plinths relieved with gold,and its two sideboards laden with plate.

  The bottles of wine were heating on the stove; the blades of new kniveswere glittering beside oysters. In the milky tint of the enamelledglasses there was a kind of alluring sweetness; and the tabledisappeared from view under its load of game, fruit, and meats of therarest quality.

  These attentions were lost on Senecal. He began by asking for householdbread (the hardest that could be got), and in connection with thissubject, spoke of the murders of Buzancais and the crisis arising fromlack of the means of subsistence.

  Nothing of this sort could have happened if agriculture had been betterprotected, if everything had not been given up to competition, toanarchy, and to the deplorable maxim of "Let things alone! let things gotheir own way!" It was in this way that the feudalism of money wasestablished--the worst form of feudalism. But let them take care! Thepeople in the end will get tired of it, and may make the capitalist payfor their sufferings either by bloody proscriptions or by the plunder oftheir houses.

  Frederick saw, as if by a lightning-flash, a flood of men with bare armsinvading Madame Dambreuse's drawing-room, and smashing the mirrors withblows of pikes.

  Senecal went on to say that the workman, owing to the insufficiency ofwages, was more unfortunate than the helot, the negro, and the pariah,especially if he has children.

  "Ought he to get rid of them by asphyxia, as some English doctor, whosename I don't remember--a disciple of Malthus--advises him?"

  And, turning towards Cisy: "Are we to be obliged to follow the advice ofthe infamous Malthus?"

  Cisy, who was ignorant of the infamy and even of the existence ofMalthus, said by way of reply, that after all, much human misery wasrelieved, and that the higher classes----

  "Ha! the higher classes!" said the Socialist, with a sneer. "In thefirst place, there are no higher classes. 'Tis the heart alone thatmakes anyone higher than another. We want no alms, understand! butequality, the fair division of products."

  What he required was that the workman might become a capitalist, just asthe soldier might become a colonel. The trade-wardenships, at least, inlimiting the number of apprentices, prevented workmen from growinginconveniently numerous, and the sentiment of fraternity was kept up bymeans of the fetes and the banners.

  Hussonnet, as a poet, regretted the banners; so did Pellerin, too--apredilection which had taken possession of him at the Cafe Dagneaux,while listening to the Phalansterians talking. He expressed the opinionthat Fourier was a great man.

  "Come now!" said Deslauriers. "An old fool who sees in the overthrow ofgovernments the effects of Divine vengeance. He is just like my lordSaint-Simon and his church, with his hatred of the French Revolution--aset of buffoons who would fain re-establish Catholicism."

  M. de Cisy, no doubt in order to get information or to make a goodimpression, broke in with this remark, which he uttered in a mild tone:

  "These two men of science are not, then, of the same way of thinking asVoltaire?"

  "That fellow! I make you a present of him!"

  "How is that? Why, I thought----"

  "Oh! no, he did not love the people!"

  Then the conversation came down to contemporary events: the Spanishmarriages, the dilapidations of Rochefort, the new chapter-house ofSaint-Denis, which had led to the taxes being doubled. Nevertheless,according to Senecal, they were not high enough!

  "And why are they paid? My God! to erect the palace for apes at theMuseum, to make showy staff-officers parade along our squares, or tomaintain a Gothic etiquette amongst the flunkeys of the Chateau!"

  "I have read in the _Mode_," said Cisy, "that at the Tuileries ball onthe feast of Saint-Ferdinand, everyone was disguised as a miser."

  "How pitiable!" said the Socialist, with a shrug of his shoulders, as ifto indicate his disgust.

  "And the Museum of Versailles!" exclaimed Pellerin. "Let us talk aboutit! These idiots have foreshortened a Delacroix and lengthened a Gros!At the Louvre they have so well restored, scratched, and made a jumbleof all the canvases, that in ten years probably not one will be left. Asfor the errors in the catalogu
e, a German has written a whole volume onthe subject. Upon my word, the foreigners are laughing at us."

  "Yes, we are the laughing-stock of Europe," said Senecal.

  "'Tis because Art is conveyed in fee-simple to the Crown."

  "As long as you haven't universal suffrage----"

  "Allow me!"--for the artist, having been rejected at every _salon_ forthe last twenty years, was filled with rage against Power.

  "Ah! let them not bother us! As for me, I ask for nothing. Only theChambers ought to pass enactments in the interests of Art. A chair ofaesthetics should be established with a professor who, being a practicalman as well as a philosopher, would succeed, I hope, in grouping themultitude. You would do well, Hussonnet, to touch on this matter with aword or two in your newspaper?"

  "Are the newspapers free? are we ourselves free?" said Deslauriers in anangry tone. "When one reflects that there might be as many astwenty-eight different formalities to set up a boat on the river, itmakes me feel a longing to go and live amongst the cannibals! TheGovernment is eating us up. Everything belongs to it--philosophy, law,the arts, the very air of heaven; and France, bereft of all energy, liesunder the boot of the gendarme and the cassock of the devil-dodger withthe death-rattle in her throat!"

  The future Mirabeau thus poured out his bile in abundance. Finally hetook his glass in his right hand, raised it, and with his other armakimbo, and his eyes flashing:

  "I drink to the utter destruction of the existing order of things--thatis to say, of everything included in the words Privilege, Monopoly,Regulation, Hierarchy, Authority, State!"--and in a louder voice--"whichI would like to smash as I do this!" dashing on the table the beautifulwine-glass, which broke into a thousand pieces.

  They all applauded, and especially Dussardier.

  The spectacle of injustices made his heart leap up with indignation.Everything that wore a beard claimed his sympathy. He was one of thosepersons who fling themselves under vehicles to relieve the horses whohave fallen. His erudition was limited to two works, one entitled_Crimes of Kings_, and the other _Mysteries of the Vatican_. He hadlistened to the advocate with open-mouthed delight. At length, unable tostand it any longer:

  "For my part, the thing I blame Louis Philippe for is abandoning thePoles!"

  "One moment!" said Hussonnet. "In the first place, Poland has noexistence; 'tis an invention of Lafayette! The Poles, as a general rule,all belong to the Faubourg Saint-Marceau, the real ones having beendrowned with Poniatowski." In short, "he no longer gave into it;" he had"got over all that sort of thing; it was just like the sea-serpent, therevocation of the Edict of Nantes, and that antiquated hum-bug about theSaint-Bartholomew massacre!"

  Senecal, while he did not defend the Poles, extolled the latest remarksmade by the men of letters. The Popes had been calumniated, inasmuch asthey, at any rate, defended the people, and he called the League "theaurora of Democracy, a great movement in the direction of equality asopposed to the individualism of Protestants."

  Frederick was a little surprised at these views. They probably boredCisy, for he changed the conversation to the _tableaux vivants_ at theGymnase, which at that time attracted a great number of people.

  Senecal regarded them with disfavour. Such exhibitions corrupted thedaughters of the proletariat. Then, it was noticeable that they went infor a display of shameless luxury. Therefore, he approved of the conductof the Bavarian students who insulted Lola Montes. In imitation ofRousseau, he showed more esteem for the wife of a coal-porter than forthe mistress of a king.

  "You don't appreciate dainties," retorted Hussonnet in a majestic tone.And he took up the championship of ladies of this class in order topraise Rosanette. Then, as he happened to make an allusion to the ballat her house and to Arnoux's costume, Pellerin remarked:

  "People maintain that he is becoming shaky?"

  The picture-dealer had just been engaged in a lawsuit with reference tohis grounds at Belleville, and he was actually in a kaolin company inLower Brittany with other rogues of the same sort.

  Dussardier knew more about him, for his own master, M. Moussinot, havingmade enquiries about Arnoux from the banker, Oscar Lefebvre, the latterhad said in reply that he considered him by no means solvent, as he knewabout bills of his that had been renewed.

  The dessert was over; they passed into the drawing-room, which was hung,like that of the Marechale, in yellow damask in the style of Louis XVI.

  Pellerin found fault with Frederick for not having chosen in preferencethe Neo-Greek style; Senecal rubbed matches against the hangings;Deslauriers did not make any remark.

  There was a bookcase set up there, which he called "a little girl'slibrary." The principal contemporary writers were to be found there. Itwas impossible to speak about their works, for Hussonnet immediatelybegan relating anecdotes with reference to their personalcharacteristics, criticising their faces, their habits, their dress,glorifying fifth-rate intellects and disparaging those of the first; andall the while making it clear that he deplored modern decadence.

  He instanced some village ditty as containing in itself alone morepoetry than all the lyrics of the nineteenth century. He went on to saythat Balzac was overrated, that Byron was effaced, and that Hugo knewnothing about the stage.

  "Why, then," said Senecal, "have you not got the volumes of theworking-men poets?"

  And M. de Cisy, who devoted his attention to literature, was astonishedat not seeing on Frederick's table some of those new physiologicalstudies--the physiology of the smoker, of the angler, of the manemployed at the barrier.

  They went on irritating him to such an extent that he felt a longing toshove them out by the shoulders.

  "But they are making me quite stupid!" And then he drew Dussardieraside, and wished to know whether he could do him any service.

  The honest fellow was moved. He answered that his post of cashierentirely sufficed for his wants.

  After that, Frederick led Deslauriers into his own apartment, and,taking out of his escritoire two thousand francs:

  "Look here, old boy, put this money in your pocket. 'Tis the balance ofmy old debts to you."

  "But--what about the journal?" said the advocate. "You are, of course,aware that I spoke about it to Hussonnet."

  And, when Frederick replied that he was "a little short of cash justnow," the other smiled in a sinister fashion.

  After the liqueurs they drank beer, and after the beer, grog; and thenthey lighted their pipes once more. At last they left, at five o'clockin the evening, and they were walking along at each others' side withoutspeaking, when Dussardier broke the silence by saying that Frederick hadentertained them in excellent style. They all agreed with him on thatpoint.

  Then Hussonnet remarked that his luncheon was too heavy. Senecal foundfault with the trivial character of his household arrangements. Cisytook the same view. It was absolutely devoid of the "proper stamp."

  "For my part, I think," said Pellerin, "he might have had the grace togive me an order for a picture."

  Deslauriers held his tongue, as he had the bank-notes that had beengiven to him in his breeches' pocket.

  Frederick was left by himself. He was thinking about his friends, and itseemed to him as if a huge ditch surrounded with shade separated himfrom them. He had nevertheless held out his hand to them, and they hadnot responded to the sincerity of his heart.

  He recalled to mind what Pellerin and Dussardier had said about Arnoux.Undoubtedly it must be an invention, a calumny? But why? And he had avision of Madame Arnoux, ruined, weeping, selling her furniture. Thisidea tormented him all night long. Next day he presented himself at herhouse.

  At a loss to find any way of communicating to her what he had heard, heasked her, as if in casual conversation, whether Arnoux still heldpossession of his building grounds at Belleville.

  "Yes, he has them still."

  "He is now, I believe, a shareholder in a kaolin company in Brittany."

  "That's true."

  "His earthenware-works are going
on very well, are they not?"

  "Well--I suppose so----"

  And, as he hesitated:

  "What is the matter with you? You frighten me!"

  He told her the story about the renewals. She hung down her head, andsaid:

  "I thought so!"

  In fact, Arnoux, in order to make a good speculation, had refused tosell his grounds, had borrowed money extensively on them, and finding nopurchasers, had thought of rehabilitating himself by establishing theearthenware manufactory. The expense of this had exceeded hiscalculations. She knew nothing more about it. He evaded all herquestions, and declared repeatedly that it was going on very well.

  Frederick tried to reassure her. These in all probability were meretemporary embarrassments. However, if he got any information, he wouldimpart it to her.

  "Oh! yes, will you not?" said she, clasping her two hands with an air ofcharming supplication.

  So then, he had it in his power to be useful to her. He was now enteringinto her existence--finding a place in her heart.

  Arnoux appeared.

  "Ha! how nice of you to come to take me out to dine!"

  Frederick was silent on hearing these words.

  Arnoux spoke about general topics, then informed his wife that he wouldbe returning home very late, as he had an appointment with M. Oudry.

  "At his house?"

  "Why, certainly, at his house."

  As they went down the stairs, he confessed that, as the Marechale had noengagement at home, they were going on a secret pleasure-party to theMoulin Rouge; and, as he always needed somebody to be the recipient ofhis outpourings, he got Frederick to drive him to the door.

  In place of entering, he walked about on the footpath, looking up at thewindows on the second floor. Suddenly the curtains parted.

  "Ha! bravo! Pere Oudry is no longer there! Good evening!"

  Frederick did not know what to think now.

  From this day forth, Arnoux was still more cordial than before; heinvited the young man to dine with his mistress; and ere long Frederickfrequented both houses at the same time.

  Rosanette's abode furnished him with amusement. He used to call there ofan evening on his way back from the club or the play. He would take acup of tea there, or play a game of loto. On Sundays they playedcharades; Rosanette, more noisy than the rest, made herself conspicuousby funny tricks, such as running on all-fours or muffling her head in acotton cap. In order to watch the passers-by through the window, she hada hat of waxed leather; she smoked chibouks; she sang Tyrolese airs. Inthe afternoon, to kill time, she cut out flowers in a piece of chintzand pasted them against the window-panes, smeared her two little dogswith varnish, burned pastilles, or drew cards to tell her fortune.Incapable of resisting a desire, she became infatuated about sometrinket which she happened to see, and could not sleep till she had goneand bought it, then bartered it for another, sold costly dresses forlittle or nothing, lost her jewellery, squandered money, and would havesold her chemise for a stage-box at the theatre. Often she askedFrederick to explain to her some word she came across when reading abook, but did not pay any attention to his answer, for she jumpedquickly to another idea, while heaping questions on top of each other.After spasms of gaiety came childish outbursts of rage, or else she saton the ground dreaming before the fire with her head down and her handsclasping her knees, more inert than a torpid adder. Without minding it,she made her toilet in his presence, drew on her silk stockings, thenwashed her face with great splashes of water, throwing back her figureas if she were a shivering naiad; and her laughing white teeth, hersparkling eyes, her beauty, her gaiety, dazzled Frederick, and made hisnerves tingle under the lash of desire.

  Nearly always he found Madame Arnoux teaching her little boy how toread, or standing behind Marthe's chair while she played her scales onthe piano. When she was doing a piece of sewing, it was a great sourceof delight to him to pick up her scissors now and then. In all hermovements there was a tranquil majesty. Her little hands seemed made toscatter alms and to wipe away tears, and her voice, naturally ratherhollow, had caressing intonations and a sort of breezy lightness.

  She did not display much enthusiasm about literature; but herintelligence exercised a charm by the use of a few simple andpenetrating words. She loved travelling, the sound of the wind in thewoods, and a walk with uncovered head under the rain.

  Frederick listened to these confidences with rapture, fancying that hesaw in them the beginning of a certain self-abandonment on her part.

  His association with these two women made, as it were, two differentstrains of music in his life, the one playful, passionate, diverting,the other grave and almost religious, and vibrating both at the sametime, they always increased in volume and gradually blended with oneanother; for if Madame Arnoux happened merely to touch him with herfinger, the image of the other immediately presented itself to him as anobject of desire, because from that quarter a better opportunity wasthrown in his way, and, when his heart happened to be touched while inRosanette's company, he was immediately reminded of the woman for whomhe felt such a consuming passion.

  This confusion was, in some measure, due to a similarity which existedbetween the interiors of the two houses. One of the trunks which wasformerly to be seen in the Boulevard Montmartre now adorned Rosanette'sdining-room. The same courses were served up for dinner in both places,and even the same velvet cap was to be found trailing over theeasy-chairs; then, a heap of little presents--screens, boxes, fans--wentto the mistress's house from the wife's and returned again, for Arnoux,without the slightest embarrassment, often took back from the one whathe had given to her in order to make a present of it to the other.

  The Marechale laughed with Frederick at the utter disregard forpropriety which his habits exhibited. One Sunday, after dinner, she ledhim behind the door, and showed him in the pocket of Arnoux's overcoat abag of cakes which he had just pilfered from the table, in order, nodoubt, to regale his little family with it at home. M. Arnoux gavehimself up to some rogueries which bordered on vileness. It seemed tohim a duty to practise fraud with regard to the city dues; he never paidwhen he went to the theatre, or if he took a ticket for the second seatsalways tried to make his way into the first; and he used to relate asan excellent joke that it was a custom of his at the cold baths to putinto the waiters' collection-box a breeches' button instead of aten-sous piece--and this did not prevent the Marechale from loving him.

  One day, however, she said, while talking about him:

  "Ah! he's making himself a nuisance to me, at last! I've had enough ofhim! Faith, so much the better--I'll find another instead!"

  Frederick believed that the other had already been found, and that hisname was M. Oudry.

  "Well," said Rosanette, "what does that signify?"

  Then, in a voice choked with rising tears:

  "I ask very little from him, however, and he won't give me that."

  He had even promised a fourth of his profits in the famous kaolin mines.No profit made its appearance any more than the cashmere with which hehad been luring her on for the last six months.

  Frederick immediately thought of making her a present. Arnoux mightregard it as a lesson for himself, and be annoyed at it.

  For all that, he was good-natured, his wife herself said so, but sofoolish! Instead of bringing people to dine every day at his house, henow entertained his acquaintances at a restaurant. He bought things thatwere utterly useless, such as gold chains, timepieces, and householdarticles. Madame Arnoux even pointed out to Frederick in the lobby anenormous supply of tea-kettles, foot-warmers, and samovars. Finally, sheone day confessed that a certain matter caused her much anxiety. Arnouxhad made her sign a promissory note payable to M. Dambreuse.

  Meanwhile Frederick still cherished his literary projects as if it werea point of honour with himself to do so. He wished to write a history ofaesthetics, a result of his conversations with Pellerin; next, to writedramas dealing with different epochs of the French Revolution, and tocompose a grea
t comedy, an idea traceable to the indirect influence ofDeslauriers and Hussonnet. In the midst of his work her face or that ofthe other passed before his mental vision. He struggled against thelonging to see her, but was not long ere he yielded to it; and he feltsadder as he came back from Madame Arnoux's house.

  One morning, while he was brooding over his melancholy thoughts by thefireside, Deslauriers came in. The incendiary speeches of Senecal hadfilled his master with uneasiness, and once more he found himselfwithout resources.

  "What do you want me to do?" said Frederick.

  "Nothing! I know you have no money. But it will not be much trouble foryou to get him a post either through M. Dambreuse or else throughArnoux. The latter ought to have need of engineers in hisestablishment."

  Frederick had an inspiration. Senecal would be able to let him know whenthe husband was away, carry letters for him and assist him on a thousandoccasions when opportunities presented themselves. Services of this sortare always rendered between man and man. Besides, he would find means ofemploying him without arousing any suspicion on his part. Chance offeredhim an auxiliary; it was a circumstance that omened well for the future,and he hastened to take advantage of it; and, with an affectation ofindifference, he replied that the thing was feasible perhaps, and thathe would devote attention to it.

  And he did so at once. Arnoux took a great deal of pains with hisearthenware works. He was endeavouring to discover the copper-red of theChinese, but his colours evaporated in the process of baking. In orderto avoid cracks in his ware, he mixed lime with his potter's clay; butthe articles got broken for the most part; the enamel of his paintingson the raw material boiled away; his large plates became bulged; and,attributing these mischances to the inferior plant of his manufactory,he was anxious to start other grinding-mills and other drying-rooms.Frederick recalled some of these things to mind, and, when he metArnoux, said that he had discovered a very able man, who would becapable of finding his famous red. Arnoux gave a jump; then, havinglistened to what the young man had to tell him, replied that he wantedassistance from nobody.

  Frederick spoke in a very laudatory style about Senecal's prodigiousattainments, pointing out that he was at the same time an engineer, achemist, and an accountant, being a mathematician of the first rank.

  The earthenware-dealer consented to see him.

  But they squabbled over the emoluments. Frederick interposed, and, atthe end of a week, succeeded in getting them to come to an agreement.

  But as the works were situated at Creil, Senecal could not assist him inany way. This thought alone was enough to make his courage flag, as ifhe had met with some misfortune. His notion was that the more Arnouxwould be kept apart from his wife the better would be his own chancewith her. Then he proceeded to make repeated apologies for Rosanette.He referred to all the wrongs she had sustained at the other's hands,referred to the vague threats which she had uttered a few days before,and even spoke about the cashmere without concealing the fact that shehad accused Arnoux of avarice.

  Arnoux, nettled at the word (and, furthermore, feeling some uneasiness),brought Rosanette the cashmere, but scolded her for having made anycomplaint to Frederick. When she told him that she had reminded him ahundred times of his promise, he pretended that, owing to pressure ofbusiness, he had forgotten all about it.

  The next day Frederick presented himself at her abode, and found theMarechale still in bed, though it was two o'clock, with Delmar besideher finishing a _pate de foie gras_ at a little round table. Before hehad advanced many paces, she broke out into a cry of delight, saying: "Ihave him! I have him!" Then she seized him by the ears, kissed him onthe forehead, thanked him effusively, "thee'd" and "thou'd" him, andeven wanted to make him sit down on the bed. Her fine eyes, full oftender emotion, were sparkling with pleasure. There was a smile on herhumid mouth. Her two round arms emerged through the sleeveless openingof her night-dress, and, from time to time, he could feel through thecambric the well-rounded outlines of her form.

  Then she seized him by the ears and kissed him.]

  All this time Delmar kept rolling his eyeballs about.

  "But really, my dear, my own pet..."

  It was the same way on the occasion when he saw her next. As soon asFrederick entered, she sat up on a cushion in order to embrace him withmore ease, called him a darling, a "dearie," put a flower in hisbutton-hole, and settled his cravat. These delicate attentions wereredoubled when Delmar happened to be there. Were they advances on herpart? So it seemed to Frederick.

  As for deceiving a friend, Arnoux, in his place, would not have had manyscruples on that score, and he had every right not to adhere to rigidlyvirtuous principles with regard to this man's mistress, seeing that hisrelations with the wife had been strictly honourable, for so hethought--or rather he would have liked Arnoux to think so, in any event,as a sort of justification of his own prodigious cowardice. Neverthelesshe felt somewhat bewildered; and presently he made up his mind to laysiege boldly to the Marechale.

  So, one afternoon, just as she was stooping down in front of her chestof drawers, he came across to her, and repeated his overtures without apause.

  Thereupon, she began to cry, saying that she was very unfortunate, butthat people should not despise her on that account.

  He only made fresh advances. She now adopted a different plan, namely,to laugh at his attempts without stopping. He thought it a clever thingto answer her sarcasms with repartees in the same strain, in which therewas even a touch of exaggeration. But he made too great a display ofgaiety to convince her that he was in earnest; and their comradeship wasan impediment to any outpouring of serious feeling. At last, when shesaid one day, in reply to his amorous whispers, that she would not takeanother woman's leavings, he answered.

  "What other woman?"

  "Ah! yes, go and meet Madame Arnoux again!"

  For Frederick used to talk about her often. Arnoux, on his side, had thesame mania. At last she lost patience at always hearing this woman'spraises sung, and her insinuation was a kind of revenge.

  Frederick resented it. However, Rosanette was beginning to excite hislove to an unusual degree. Sometimes, assuming the attitude of a womanof experience, she spoke ill of love with a sceptical smile that madehim feel inclined to box her ears. A quarter of an hour afterwards, itwas the only thing of any consequence in the world, and, with her armscrossed over her breast, as if she were clasping some one close to her:"Oh, yes, 'tis good! 'tis good!" and her eyelids would quiver in a kindof rapturous swoon. It was impossible to understand her, to know, forinstance, whether she loved Arnoux, for she made fun of him, and yetseemed jealous of him. So likewise with the Vatnaz, whom she wouldsometimes call a wretch, and at other times her best friend. In short,there was about her entire person, even to the very arrangement of herchignon over her head, an inexpressible something, which seemed like achallenge; and he desired her for the satisfaction, above all, ofconquering her and being her master.

  How was he to accomplish this? for she often sent him awayunceremoniously, appearing only for a moment between two doors in orderto say in a subdued voice, "I'm engaged--for the evening;" or else hefound her surrounded by a dozen persons; and when they were alone, somany impediments presented themselves one after the other, that onewould have sworn there was a bet to keep matters from going any further.He invited her to dinner; as a rule, she declined the invitation. On oneoccasion, she accepted it, but did not come.

  A Machiavellian idea arose in his brain.

  Having heard from Dussardier about Pellerin's complaints againsthimself, he thought of giving the artist an order to paint theMarechale's portrait, a life-sized portrait, which would necessitate agood number of sittings. He would not fail to be present at all of them.The habitual incorrectness of the painter would facilitate their privateconversations. So then he would urge Rosanette to get the pictureexecuted in order to make a present of her face to her dear Arnoux. Sheconsented, for she saw herself in the midst of the Grand Salon in themost prominent positi
on with a crowd of people staring at her picture,and the newspapers would all talk about it, which at once would set herafloat.

  As for Pellerin, he eagerly snatched at the offer. This portrait oughtto place him in the position of a great man; it ought to be amasterpiece. He passed in review in his memory all the portraits bygreat masters with which he was acquainted, and decided finally infavour of a Titian, which would be set off with ornaments in the styleof Veronese. Therefore, he would carry out his design without artificialbackgrounds in a bold light, which would illuminate the flesh-tints witha single tone, and which would make the accessories glitter.

  "Suppose I were to put on her," he thought, "a pink silk dress with anOriental bournous? Oh, no! the bournous is only a rascally thing! Orsuppose, rather, I were to make her wear blue velvet with a greybackground, richly coloured? We might likewise give her a white guipurecollar with a black fan and a scarlet curtain behind." And thus, seekingfor ideas, he enlarged his conception, and regarded it with admiration.

  He felt his heart beating when Rosanette, accompanied by Frederick,called at his house for the first sitting. He placed her standing up ona sort of platform in the midst of the apartment, and, finding faultwith the light and expressing regret at the loss of his former studio,he first made her lean on her elbow against a pedestal, then sit down inan armchair, and, drawing away from her and coming near her again byturns in order to adjust with a fillip the folds of her dress, hewatched her with eyelids half-closed, and appealed to Frederick's tastewith a passing word.

  "Well, no," he exclaimed; "I return to my own idea. I will set you up inthe Venetian style."

  She would have a poppy-coloured velvet gown with a jewelled girdle; andher wide sleeve lined with ermine would afford a glimpse of her barearm, which was to touch the balustrade of a staircase rising behind her.At her left, a large column would mount as far as the top of the canvasto meet certain structures so as to form an arch. Underneath one wouldvaguely distinguish groups of orange-trees almost black, through whichthe blue sky, with its streaks of white cloud, would seem cut intofragments. On the baluster, covered with a carpet, there would be, on asilver dish, a bouquet of flowers, a chaplet of amber, a poniard, and alittle chest of antique ivory, rather yellow with age, which wouldappear to be disgorging gold sequins. Some of them, falling on theground here and there, would form brilliant splashes, as it were, insuch a way as to direct one's glance towards the tip of her foot, forshe would be standing on the last step but one in a natural position, asif in the act of moving under the glow of the broad sunlight.

  He went to look for a picture-case, which he laid on the platform torepresent the step. Then he arranged as accessories, on a stool by wayof balustrade, his pea-jacket, a buckler, a sardine-box, a bundle ofpens, and a knife; and when he had flung in front of Rosanette a dozenbig sous, he made her assume the attitude he required.

  "Just try to imagine that these things are riches, magnificent presents.The head a little on one side! Perfect! and don't stir! This majesticposture exactly suits your style of beauty."

  She wore a plaid dress and carried a big muff, and only kept fromlaughing outright by an effort of self-control.

  "As regards the head-dress, we will mingle with it a circle of pearls.It always produces a striking effect with red hair."

  The Marechale burst out into an exclamation, remarking that she had notred hair.

  "Nonsense! The red of painters is not that of ordinary people."

  He began to sketch the position of the masses; and he was so muchpreoccupied with the great artists of the Renaissance that he kepttalking about them persistently. For a whole hour he went on musingaloud on those splendid lives, full of genius, glory, and sumptuousdisplays, with triumphal entries into the cities, and galas bytorchlight among half-naked women, beautiful as goddesses.

  "You were made to live in those days. A creature of your calibre wouldhave deserved a monseigneur."

  Rosanette thought the compliments he paid her very pretty. The day wasfixed for the next sitting. Frederick took it on himself to bring theaccessories.

  As the heat of the stove had stupefied her a little, they went home onfoot through the Rue du Bac, and reached the Pont Royal.

  It was fine weather, piercingly bright and warm. Some windows of housesin the city shone in the distance, like plates of gold, whilst behindthem at the right the turrets of Notre Dame showed their outlines inblack against the blue sky, softly bathed at the horizon in greyvapours.

  The wind began to swell; and Rosanette, having declared that she felthungry, they entered the "Patisserie Anglaise."

  Young women with their children stood eating in front of the marblebuffet, where plates of little cakes had glass covers pressed down onthem. Rosanette swallowed two cream-tarts. The powdered sugar formedmoustaches at the sides of her mouth. From time to time, in order towipe it, she drew out her handkerchief from her muff, and her face,under her green silk hood, resembled a full-blown rose in the midst ofits leaves.

  They resumed their walk. In the Rue de la Paix she stood before agoldsmith's shop to look at a bracelet. Frederick wished to make her apresent of it.

  "No!" said she; "keep your money!"

  He was hurt by these words.

  "What's the matter now with the ducky? We are melancholy?"

  And, the conversation having been renewed, he began making the sameprotestations of love to her as usual.

  "You know well 'tis impossible!"

  "Why?"

  "Ah! because----"

  They went on side by side, she leaning on his arm, and the flounces ofher gown kept flapping against his legs. Then, he recalled to mind onewinter twilight when on the same footpath Madame Arnoux walked thus byhis side, and he became so much absorbed in this recollection that he nolonger saw Rosanette, and did not bestow a thought upon her.

  She kept looking straight before her in a careless fashion, lagging alittle, like a lazy child. It was the hour when people had just comeback from their promenade, and equipages were making their way at aquick trot over the hard pavement.

  Pellerin's flatteries having probably recurred to her mind, she heaved asigh.

  "Ah! there are some lucky women in the world. Decidedly, I was made fora rich man!"

  He replied, with a certain brutality in his tone:

  "You have one, in the meantime!" for M. Oudry was looked upon as a manthat could count a million three times over.

  She asked for nothing better than to get free from him.

  "What prevents you from doing so?" And he gave utterance to bitter jestsabout this old bewigged citizen, pointing out to her that such anintrigue was unworthy of her, and that she ought to break it off.

  "Yes," replied the Marechale, as if talking to herself. "'Tis what Ishall end by doing, no doubt!"

  Frederick was charmed by this disinterestedness. She slackened her pace,and he fancied that she was fatigued. She obstinately refused to let himtake a cab, and she parted with him at her door, sending him a kiss withher finger-tips.

  "Ah! what a pity! and to think that imbeciles take me for a man ofwealth!"

  He reached home in a gloomy frame of mind.

  Hussonnet and Deslauriers were awaiting him. The Bohemian, seated beforethe table, made sketches of Turks' heads; and the advocate, in dirtyboots, lay asleep on the sofa.

  "Ha! at last," he exclaimed. "But how sullen you look! Will you listento me?"

  His vogue as a tutor had fallen off, for he crammed his pupils withtheories unfavourable for their examinations. He had appeared in two orthree cases in which he had been unsuccessful, and each newdisappointment flung him back with greater force on the dream of hisearlier days--a journal in which he could show himself off, avengehimself, and spit forth his bile and his opinions. Fortune andreputation, moreover, would follow as a necessary consequence. It was inthis hope that he had got round the Bohemian, Hussonnet happening to bethe possessor of a press.

  At present, he printed it on pink paper. He invented hoaxes, composedreb
uses, tried to engage in polemics, and even intended, in spite of thesituation of the premises, to get up concerts. A year's subscription wasto give a right to a place in the orchestra in one of the principaltheatres of Paris. Besides, the board of management took on itself tofurnish foreigners with all necessary information, artistic andotherwise. But the printer gave vent to threats; there were threequarters' rent due to the landlord. All sorts of embarrassments arose;and Hussonnet would have allowed _L'Art_ to perish, were it not for theexhortations of the advocate, who kept every day exciting his mind. Hehad brought the other with him, in order to give more weight to theapplication he was now making.

  "We've come about the journal," said he.

  "What! are you still thinking about that?" said Frederick, in an absenttone.

  "Certainly, I am thinking about it!"

  And he explained his plan anew. By means of the Bourse returns, theywould get into communication with financiers, and would thus obtain thehundred thousand francs indispensable as security. But, in order thatthe print might be transformed into a political journal, it wasnecessary beforehand to have a large _clientele_, and for that purposeto make up their minds to go to some expense--so much for the cost ofpaper and printing, and for outlay at the office; in short, a sum ofabout fifteen thousand francs.

  "I have no funds," said Frederick.

  "And what are we to do, then?" said Deslauriers, with folded arms.

  Frederick, hurt by the attitude which Deslauriers was assuming, replied:

  "Is that my fault?"

  "Ah! very fine. A man has wood in his fire, truffles on his table, agood bed, a library, a carriage, every kind of comfort. But let anotherman shiver under the slates, dine at twenty sous, work like a convict,and sprawl through want in the mire--is it the rich man's fault?"

  And he repeated, "Is it the rich man's fault?" with a Ciceronian ironywhich smacked of the law-courts.

  Frederick tried to speak.

  "However, I understand one has certain wants--aristocratic wants; for,no doubt, some woman----"

  "Well, even if that were so? Am I not free----?"

  "Oh! quite free!"

  And, after a minute's silence:

  "Promises are so convenient!"

  "Good God! I don't deny that I gave them!" said Frederick.

  The advocate went on:

  "At college we take oaths; we are going to set up a phalanx; we aregoing to imitate Balzac's Thirteen. Then, on meeting a friend after aseparation: 'Good night, old fellow! Go about your business!' For he whomight help the other carefully keeps everything for himself alone."

  "How is that?"

  "Yes, you have not even introduced me to the Dambreuses."

  Frederick cast a scrutinising glance at him. With his shabby frock-coat,his spectacles of rough glass, and his sallow face, that advocate seemedto him such a typical specimen of the penniless pedant that he could notprevent his lips from curling with a disdainful smile.

  Deslauriers perceived this, and reddened.

  He had already taken his hat to leave. Hussonnet, filled withuneasiness, tried to mollify him with appealing looks, and, as Frederickwas turning his back on him:

  "Look here, my boy, become my Maecenas! Protect the arts!"

  Frederick, with an abrupt movement of resignation, took a sheet ofpaper, and, having scrawled some lines on it, handed it to him. TheBohemian's face lighted up.

  Then, passing across the sheet of paper to Deslauriers:

  "Apologise, my fine fellow!"

  Their friend begged his notary to send him fifteen thousand francs asquickly as possible.

  "Ah! I recognise you in that," said Deslauriers.

  "On the faith of a gentleman," added the Bohemian, "you are a noblefellow, you'll be placed in the gallery of useful men!"

  The advocate remarked:

  "You'll lose nothing by it, 'tis an excellent speculation."

  "Faith," exclaimed Hussonnet, "I'd stake my head at the scaffold on itssuccess!"

  And he said so many foolish things, and promised so many wonderfulthings, in which perhaps he believed, that Frederick did not knowwhether he did this in order to laugh at others or at himself.

  The same evening he received a letter from his mother. She expressedastonishment at not seeing him yet a minister, while indulging in alittle banter at his expense. Then she spoke of her health, and informedhim that M. Roque had now become one of her visitors.

  "Since he is a widower, I thought there would be no objection toinviting him to the house. Louise is greatly changed for the better."And in a postscript: "You have told me nothing about your fineacquaintance, M. Dambreuse; if I were you, I would make use of him."

  Why not? His intellectual ambitions had left him, and his fortune (hesaw it clearly) was insufficient, for when his debts had been paid, andthe sum agreed on remitted to the others, his income would be diminishedby four thousand at least! Moreover, he felt the need of giving up thissort of life, and attaching himself to some pursuit. So, next day, whendining at Madame Arnoux's, he said that his mother was tormenting him inorder to make him take up a profession.

  "But I was under the impression," she said, "that M. Dambreuse was goingto get you into the Council of State? That would suit you very well."

  So, then, she wished him to take this course. He regarded her wish as acommand.

  The banker, as on the first occasion, was seated at his desk, and, witha gesture, intimated that he desired Frederick to wait a few minutes;for a gentleman who was standing at the door with his back turned hadbeen discussing some serious topic with him.

  The subject of their conversation was the proposed amalgamation of thedifferent coal-mining companies.

  On each side of the glass hung portraits of General Foy and LouisPhilippe. Cardboard shelves rose along the panels up to the ceiling, andthere were six straw chairs, M. Dambreuse not requiring a morefashionably-furnished apartment for the transaction of business. Itresembled those gloomy kitchens in which great banquets are prepared.

  Frederick noticed particularly two chests of prodigious size which stoodin the corners. He asked himself how many millions they might contain.The banker unlocked one of them, and as the iron plate revolved, itdisclosed to view nothing inside but blue paper books full of entries.

  At last, the person who had been talking to M. Dambreuse passed in frontof Frederick. It was Pere Oudry. The two saluted one another, theirfaces colouring--a circumstance which surprised M. Dambreuse. However,he exhibited the utmost affability, observing that nothing would beeasier than to recommend the young man to the Keeper of the Seals. Theywould be too happy to have him, he added, concluding his politeattentions by inviting him to an evening party which he would be givingin a few days.

  Frederick was stepping into a brougham on his way to this party when anote from the Marechale reached him. By the light of the carriage-lampshe read:

  "Darling, I have followed your advice: I have just expelled my savage.After to-morrow evening, liberty! Say whether I am not brave!"

  Nothing more. But it was clearly an invitation to him to take the vacantplace. He uttered an exclamation, squeezed the note into his pocket, andset forth.

  Two municipal guards on horseback were stationed in the street. A row oflamps burned on the two front gates, and some servants were calling outin the courtyard to have the carriages brought up to the end of thesteps before the house under the marquee.

  Then suddenly the noise in the vestibule ceased.

  Large trees filled up the space in front of the staircase. The porcelainglobes shed a light which waved like white moire satin on the walls.

  Frederick rushed up the steps in a joyous frame of mind. An usherannounced his name. M. Dambreuse extended his hand. Almost at the verysame moment, Madame Dambreuse appeared. She wore a mauve dress trimmedwith lace. The ringlets of her hair were more abundant than usual, andnot a single jewel did she display.

  She complained of his coming to visit them so rarely, and seized theopportunity to exchan
ge a few confidential words with him.

  The guests began to arrive. In their mode of bowing they twisted theirbodies on one side or bent in two, or merely lowered their heads alittle. Then, a married pair, a family passed in, and all scatteredthemselves about the drawing-room, which was already filled. Under thechandelier in the centre, an enormous ottoman-seat supported a stand,the flowers of which, bending forward, like plumes of feathers, hungover the heads of the ladies seated all around in a ring, while othersoccupied the easy-chairs, which formed two straight lines symmetricallyinterrupted by the large velvet curtains of the windows and the loftybays of the doors with their gilded lintels.

  The crowd of men who remained standing on the floor with their hats intheir hands seemed, at some distance, like one black mass, into whichthe ribbons in the button-holes introduced red points here and there,and rendered all the more dull the monotonous whiteness of theircravats. With the exception of the very young men with the down on theirfaces, all appeared to be bored. Some dandies, with an expression ofsullenness on their countenances, were swinging on their heels. Therewere numbers of men with grey hair or wigs. Here and there glistened abald pate; and the visages of many of these men, either purple orexceedingly pale, showed in their worn aspect the traces of immensefatigues: for they were persons who devoted themselves either topolitical or commercial pursuits. M. Dambreuse had also invited a numberof scholars and magistrates, two or three celebrated doctors, and hedeprecated with an air of humility the eulogies which they pronounced onhis entertainment and the allusions to his wealth.

  An immense number of men-servants, with fine gold-laced livery, keptmoving about on every side. The large branched candlesticks, likebouquets of flame, threw a glow over the hangings. They were reflectedin the mirrors; and at the bottom of the dining-room, which was adornedwith a jessamine treillage, the side-board resembled the high altar of acathedral or an exhibition of jewellery, there were so many dishes,bells, knives and forks, silver and silver-gilt spoons in the midst ofcrystal ware glittering with iridescence.

  The three other reception-rooms overflowed with artisticobjects--landscapes by great masters on the walls, ivory and porcelainat the sides of the tables, and Chinese ornaments on the brackets.Lacquered screens were displayed in front of the windows, clusters ofcamelias rose above the mantel-shelves, and a light music vibrated inthe distance, like the humming of bees.

  The quadrilles were not numerous, and the dancers, judged by theindifferent fashion in which they dragged their pumps after them, seemedto be going through the performance of a duty.

  Frederick heard some phrases, such as the following:

  "Were you at the last charity fete at the Hotel Lambert, Mademoiselle?""No, Monsieur." "It will soon be intolerably warm here." "Oh! yes,indeed; quite suffocating!" "Whose polka, pray, is this?" "Good heavens,Madame, I don't know!"

  And, behind him, three greybeards, who had posted themselves in therecess of a window, were whispering some _risque_ remarks. A sportsmantold a hunting story, while a Legitimist carried on an argument with anOrleanist. And, wandering about from one group to another, he reachedthe card-room, where, in the midst of grave-looking men gathered in acircle, he recognised Martinon, now attached to the Bar of the capital.

  His big face, with its waxen complexion, filled up the space encircledby his collar-like beard, which was a marvel with its even surface ofblack hair; and, observing the golden mean between the elegance whichhis age might yearn for and the dignity which his profession exactedfrom him, he kept his thumbs stuck under his armpits, according to thecustom of beaux, and then put his hands into his waistcoat pockets afterthe manner of learned personages. Though his boots were polished toexcess, he kept his temples shaved in order to have the forehead of athinker.

  After he had addressed a few chilling words to Frederick, he turned oncemore towards those who were chatting around him. A land-owner wassaying: "This is a class of men that dreams of upsetting society."

  "They are calling for the organisation of labour," said another: "Canthis be conceived?"

  "What could you expect," said a third, "when we see M. de Genoude givinghis assistance to the _Siecle_?"

  "And even Conservatives style themselves Progressives. To lead us towhat? To the Republic! as if such a thing were possible in France!"

  Everyone declared that the Republic was impossible in France.

  "No matter!" remarked one gentleman in a loud tone. "People take toomuch interest in the Revolution. A heap of histories, of different kindsof works, are published concerning it!"

  "Without taking into account," said Martinon, "that there are probablysubjects of far more importance which might be studied."

  A gentleman occupying a ministerial office laid the blame on thescandals associated with the stage:

  "Thus, for instance, this new drama of _La Reine Margot_ really goesbeyond the proper limits. What need was there for telling us about theValois? All this exhibits loyalty in an unfavourable light. 'Tis justlike your press! There is no use in talking, the September laws arealtogether too mild. For my part, I would like to have court-martials,to gag the journalists! At the slightest display of insolence, drag thembefore a council of war, and then make an end of the business!"

  "Oh, take care, Monsieur! take care!" said a professor. "Don't attackthe precious boons we gained in 1830! Respect our liberties!" It wouldbe better, he contended, to adopt a policy of decentralisation, and todistribute the surplus populations of the towns through the countrydistricts.

  "But they are gangrened!" exclaimed a Catholic. "Let religion be morefirmly established!"

  Martinon hastened to observe:

  "As a matter of fact, it is a restraining force."

  All the evil lay in this modern longing to rise above one's class and topossess luxuries.

  "However," urged a manufacturer, "luxury aids commerce. Therefore, Iapprove of the Duc de Nemours' action in insisting on having shortbreeches at his evening parties."

  "M. Thiers came to one of them in a pair of trousers. You know his jokeon the subject?"

  "Yes; charming! But he turned round to the demagogues, and his speech onthe question of incompatibilities was not without its influence inbringing about the attempt of the twelfth of May."

  "Oh, pooh!"

  "Ay, ay!"

  The circle had to make a little opening to give a passage to aman-servant carrying a tray, who was trying to make his way into thecard-room.

  Under the green shades of the wax-lights the tables were covered withtwo rows of cards and gold coins. Frederick stopped beside one corner ofthe table, lost the fifteen napoleons which he had in his pocket,whirled lightly about, and found himself on the threshold of the boudoirin which Madame Dambreuse happened to be at that moment.

  It was filled with women sitting close to one another in little groupson seats without backs. Their long skirts, swelling round them, seemedlike waves, from which their waists emerged; and their breasts wereclearly outlined by the slope of their corsages. Nearly every one ofthem had a bouquet of violets in her hand. The dull shade of theirgloves showed off the whiteness of their arms, which formed a contrastwith its human flesh tints. Over the shoulders of some of them hungfringe or mourning-weeds, and, every now and then, as they quivered withemotion, it seemed as if their bodices were about to fall down.

  But the decorum of their countenances tempered the exciting effect oftheir costumes. Several of them had a placidity almost like that ofanimals; and this resemblance to the brute creation on the part ofhalf-nude women made him think of the interior of a harem--indeed, agrosser comparison suggested itself to the young man's mind.

  Every variety of beauty was to be found there--some English ladies, withthe profile familiar in "keepsakes"; an Italian, whose black eyes shotforth lava-like flashes, like a Vesuvius; three sisters, dressed inblue; three Normans, fresh as April apples; a tall red-haired girl, witha set of amethysts. And the bright scintillation of diamonds, whichtrembled in aigrettes worn over their hair, the lu
minous spots ofprecious stones laid over their breasts, and the delightful radiance ofpearls which adorned their foreheads mingled with the glitter of goldrings, as well as with the lace, powder, the feathers, the vermilion ofdainty mouths, and the mother-of-pearl hue of teeth. The ceiling,rounded like a cupola, gave to the boudoir the form of a flower-basket,and a current of perfumed air circulated under the flapping of theirfans.

  Frederick, planting himself behind them, put up his eyeglass and scannedtheir shoulders, not all of which did he consider irreproachable. Hethought about the Marechale, and this dispelled the temptations thatbeset him or consoled him for not yielding to them.

  He gazed, however, at Madame Dambreuse, and he considered her charming,in spite of her mouth being rather large and her nostrils too dilated.But she was remarkably graceful in appearance. There was, as it were, anexpression of passionate languor in the ringlets of her hair, and herforehead, which was like agate, seemed to cover a great deal, andindicated a masterful intelligence.

  She had placed beside her her husband's niece, a rather plain-lookingyoung person. From time to time she left her seat to receive those whohad just come in; and the murmur of feminine voices, made, as it were, acackling like that of birds.

  They were talking about the Tunisian ambassadors and their costumes. Onelady had been present at the last reception of the Academy. Anotherreferred to the _Don Juan_ of Moliere, which had recently been performedat the Theatre Francais.

  But with a significant glance towards her niece, Madame Dambreuse laid afinger on her lips, while the smile which escaped from her contradictedthis display of austerity.

  Suddenly, Martinon appeared at the door directly in front of her. Shearose at once. He offered her his arm. Frederick, in order to watch theprogress of these gallantries on Martinon's part, walked past thecard-table, and came up with them in the large drawing-room. MadameDambreuse very soon quitted her cavalier, and began chatting withFrederick himself in a very familiar tone.

  She understood that he did not play cards, and did not dance.

  "Young people have a tendency to be melancholy!" Then, with a singlecomprehensive glance around:

  "Besides, this sort of thing is not amusing--at least for certainnatures!"

  And she drew up in front of the row of armchairs, uttering a few politeremarks here and there, while some old men with double eyeglasses cameto pay court to her. She introduced Frederick to some of them. M.Dambreuse touched him lightly on the elbow, and led him out on theterrace.

  He had seen the Minister. The thing was not easy to manage. Before hecould be qualified for the post of auditor to the Council of State, heshould pass an examination. Frederick, seized with an unaccountableself-confidence, replied that he had a knowledge of the subjectsprescribed for it.

  The financier was not surprised at this, after all the eulogies M. Roquehad pronounced on his abilities.

  At the mention of this name, a vision of little Louise, her house andher room, passed through his mind, and he remembered how he had onnights like this stood at her window listening to the wagoners drivingpast. This recollection of his griefs brought back the thought of MadameArnoux, and he relapsed into silence as he continued to pace up and downthe terrace. The windows shone amid the darkness like slabs of flame.The buzz of the ball gradually grew fainter; the carriages werebeginning to leave.

  "Why in the world," M. Dambreuse went on, "are you so anxious to beattached to the Council of State?"

  And he declared, in the tone of a man of broad views, that the publicfunctions led to nothing--he could speak with some authority on thatpoint--business was much better.

  Frederick urged as an objection the difficulty of grappling with all thedetails of business.

  "Pooh! I could post you up well in them in a very short time."

  Would he like to be a partner in any of his own undertakings?

  The young man saw, as by a lightning-flash, an enormous fortune cominginto his hands.

  "Let us go in again," said the banker. "You are staying for supper withus, are you not?"

  It was three o'clock. They left the terrace.

  In the dining-room, a table at which supper was served up awaited theguests.

  M. Dambreuse perceived Martinon, and, drawing near his wife, in a lowtone:

  "Is it you who invited him?"

  She answered dryly:

  "Yes, of course."

  The niece was not present.

  The guests drank a great deal of wine, and laughed very loudly; andrisky jokes did not give any offence, all present experiencing thatsense of relief which follows a somewhat prolonged period of constraint.

  Martinon alone displayed anything like gravity. He refused to drinkchampagne, as he thought this good form, and, moreover, he assumed anair of tact and politeness, for when M. Dambreuse, who had a contractedchest, complained of an oppression, he made repeated enquiries aboutthat gentleman's health, and then let his blue eyes wander in thedirection of Madame Dambreuse.

  She questioned Frederick in order to find out which of the young ladieshe liked best. He had noticed none of them in particular, and besides,he preferred the women of thirty.

  "There, perhaps, you show your sense," she returned.

  Then, as they were putting on their pelisses and paletots, M. Dambreusesaid to him:

  "Come and see me one of these mornings and we'll have a chat."

  Martinon, at the foot of the stairs, was lighting a cigar, and, as hepuffed it, he presented such a heavy profile that his companion allowedthis remark to escape from him:

  "Upon my word, you have a fine head!"

  "It has turned a few other heads," replied the young magistrate, with anair of mingled self-complacency and annoyance.

  As soon as Frederick was in bed, he summed up the main features of theevening party. In the first place, his own toilet (he had looked athimself several times in the mirrors), from the cut of his coat to theknot of his pumps left nothing to find fault with. He had spoken toinfluential men, and seen wealthy ladies at close quarters. M. Dambreusehad shown himself to be an admirable type of man, and Madame Dambreusean almost bewitching type of woman. He weighed one by one her slightestwords, her looks, a thousand things incapable of being analysed. Itwould be a right good thing to have such a mistress. And, after all, whyshould he not? He would have as good a chance with her as any other man.Perhaps she was not so hard to win? Then Martinon came back to hisrecollection; and, as he fell asleep, he smiled with pity for thisworthy fellow.

  He woke up with the thought of the Marechale in his mind. Those words ofher note, "After to-morrow evening," were in fact an appointment for thevery same day.

  He waited until nine o'clock, and then hurried to her house.

  Some one who had been going up the stairs before him shut the door. Herang the bell; Delphine came out and told him that "Madame" was notthere.

  Frederick persisted, begging of her to admit him. He had something of avery serious nature to communicate to her; only a word would suffice. Atlength, the hundred-sous-piece argument proved successful, and the maidlet him into the anteroom.

  Rosanette appeared. She was in a negligee, with her hair loose, and,shaking her head, she waved her arms when she was some paces away fromhim to indicate that she could not receive him now.

  Frederick descended the stairs slowly. This caprice was worse than anyof the others she had indulged in. He could not understand it at all.

  In front of the porter's lodge Mademoiselle Vatnaz stopped him.

  "Has she received you?"

  "No."

  "You've been put out?"

  "How do you know that?"

  "'Tis quite plain. But come on; let us go away. I am suffocating!"

  She made him accompany her along the street; she panted for breath; hecould feel her thin arm trembling on his own. Suddenly, she broke out:

  "Ah! the wretch!"

  "Who, pray?"

  "Why, he--he--Delmar!"

  This revelation humiliated Frederick.
He next asked:

  "Are you quite sure of it?"

  "Why, when I tell you I followed him!" exclaimed the Vatnaz. "I saw himgoing in! Now do you understand? I ought to have expected it for thatmatter--'twas I, in my stupidity, that introduced him to her. And if youonly knew all; my God! Why, I picked him up, supported him, clothed him!And then all the paragraphs I got into the newspapers about him! I lovedhim like a mother!"

  Then, with a sneer:

  "Ha! Monsieur wants velvet robes! You may be sure 'tis a speculation onhis part. And as for her!--to think that I knew her to earn her livingas a seamstress! If it were not for me, she would have fallen into themire twenty times over! But I will plunge her into it yet! I'll see herdying in a hospital--and everything about her will be known!"

  And, like a torrent of dirty water from a vessel full of refuse, herrage poured out in a tumultuous fashion into Frederick's ear the recitalof her rival's disgraceful acts.

  "She lived with Jumillac, with Flacourt, with little Allard, withBertinaux, with Saint-Valery, the pock-marked fellow! No, 'twas theother! They are two brothers--it makes no difference. And when she wasin difficulties, I settled everything. She is so avaricious! And then,you will agree with me, 'twas nice and kind of me to go to see her, forwe are not persons of the same grade! Am I a fast woman--I? Do I sellmyself? Without taking into account that she is as stupid as a head ofcabbage. She writes 'category' with a 'th.' After all, they are wellmet. They make a precious couple, though he styles himself an artist andthinks himself a man of genius. But, my God! if he had onlyintelligence, he would not have done such an infamous thing! Men don't,as a rule, leave a superior woman for a hussy! What do I care about himafter all? He is becoming ugly. I hate him! If I met him, mind you, I'dspit in his face." She spat out as she uttered the words.

  "Yes, this is what I think about him now. And Arnoux, eh? Isn't itabominable? He has forgiven her so often! You can't conceive thesacrifices he has made for her. She ought to kiss his feet! He is sogenerous, so good!"

  Frederick was delighted at hearing Delmar disparaged. He had taken sideswith Arnoux. This perfidy on Rosanette's part seemed to him an abnormaland inexcusable thing; and, infected with this elderly spinster'semotion, he felt a sort of tenderness towards her. Suddenly he foundhimself in front of Arnoux's door. Mademoiselle Vatnaz, without hisattention having been drawn to it, had led him down towards the RuePoissonniere.

  "Here we are!" said she. "As for me, I can't go up; but you, surelythere is nothing to prevent you?"

  "From doing what?"

  "From telling him everything, faith!"

  Frederick, as if waking up with a start, saw the baseness towards whichshe was urging him.

  "Well?" she said after a pause.

  He raised his eyes towards the second floor. Madame Arnoux's lamp wasburning. In fact there was nothing to prevent him from going up.

  "I am going to wait for you here. Go on, then!"

  This direction had the effect of chilling him, and he said:

  "I shall be a long time up there; you would do better to return home. Iwill call on you to-morrow."

  "No, no!" replied the Vatnaz, stamping with her foot. "Take him withyou! Bring him there! Let him catch them together!"

  "But Delmar will no longer be there."

  She hung down her head.

  "Yes; that's true, perhaps."

  And she remained without speaking in the middle of the street, withvehicles all around her; then, fixing on him her wild-cat's eyes:

  "I may rely on you, may I not? There is now a sacred bond between us. Dowhat you say, then; we'll talk about it to-morrow."

  Frederick, in passing through the lobby, heard two voices responding toone another.

  Madame Arnoux's voice was saying:

  "Don't lie! don't lie, pray!"

  He went in. The voices suddenly ceased.

  Arnoux was walking from one end of the apartment to the other, andMadame was seated on the little chair near the fire, extremely pale andstaring straight before her. Frederick stepped back, and was about toretire, when Arnoux grasped his hand, glad that some one had come to hisrescue.

  "But I am afraid----" said Frederick.

  "Stay here, I beg of you!" he whispered in his ear.

  Madame remarked:

  "You must make some allowance for this scene, Monsieur Moreau. Suchthings sometimes unfortunately occur in households."

  "They do when we introduce them there ourselves," said Arnoux in a jollytone. "Women have crotchets, I assure you. This, for instance, is not abad one--see! No; quite the contrary. Well, she has been amusingherself for the last hour by teasing me with a heap of idle stories."

  "They are true," retorted Madame Arnoux, losing patience; "for, in fact,you bought it yourself."

  "I?"

  "Yes, you yourself, at the Persian House."

  "The cashmere," thought Frederick.

  He was filled with a consciousness of guilt, and got quite alarmed.

  She quickly added:

  "It was on Saturday, the fourteenth."

  "The fourteenth," said Arnoux, looking up, as if he were searching inhis mind for a date.

  "And, furthermore, the clerk who sold it to you was a fair-haired youngman."

  "How could I remember what sort of man the clerk was?"

  "And yet it was at your dictation he wrote the address, 18 Rue deLaval."

  "How do you know?" said Arnoux in amazement.

  She shrugged her shoulders.

  "Oh! 'tis very simple: I went to get my cashmere altered, and thesuperintendent of the millinery department told me that they had justsent another of the same sort to Madame Arnoux."

  "Is it my fault if there is a Madame Arnoux in the same street?"

  "Yes; but not Jacques Arnoux," she returned.

  Thereupon, he began to talk in an incoherent fashion, protesting that hewas innocent. It was some misapprehension, some accident, one of thosethings that happen in some way that is utterly unaccountable. Men shouldnot be condemned on mere suspicion, vague probabilities; and hereferred to the case of the unfortunate Lesurques.

  "In short, I say you are mistaken. Do you want me to take my oath onit?"

  "'Tis not worth while."

  "Why?"

  She looked him straight in the face without saying a word, thenstretched out her hand, took down the little silver chest from themantelpiece, and handed him a bill which was spread open.

  Arnoux coloured up to his ears, and his swollen and distorted featuresbetrayed his confusion.

  "But," he said in faltering tones, "what does this prove?"

  "Ah!" she said, with a peculiar ring in her voice, in which sorrow andirony were blended. "Ah!"

  Arnoux held the bill in his hands, and turned it round without removinghis eyes from it, as if he were going to find in it the solution of agreat problem.

  "Ah! yes, yes; I remember," said he at length. "'Twas a commission. Youought to know about that matter, Frederick." Frederick remained silent."A commission that Pere Oudry entrusted to me."

  "And for whom?"

  "For his mistress."

  "For your own!" exclaimed Madame Arnoux, springing to her feet andstanding erect before him.

  "I swear to you!"

  "Don't begin over again. I know everything."

  "Ha! quite right. So you're spying on me!"

  She returned coldly:

  "Perhaps that wounds your delicacy?"

  "Since you are in a passion," said Arnoux, looking for his hat, "andcan't be reasoned with----"

  Then, with a big sigh:

  "Don't marry, my poor friend, don't, if you take my advice!"

  And he took himself off, finding it absolutely necessary to get into theopen air.

  Then there was a deep silence, and it seemed as if everything in theroom had become more motionless than before. A luminous circle above thelamp whitened the ceiling, while at the corners stretched out bits ofshade resembling pieces of black gauze placed on top of one another. T
heticking of the clock and the crackling of the fire were the only soundsthat disturbed the stillness.

  Madame Arnoux had just seated herself in the armchair at the oppositeside of the chimney-piece. She bit her lip and shivered. She drew herhands up to her face; a sob broke from her, and she began to weep.

  He sat down on the little couch, and in the soothing tone in which oneaddresses a sick person:

  "You don't suspect me of having anything to do with----?"

  She made no reply. But, continuing presently to give utterance to herown thoughts:

  "I leave him perfectly free! There was no necessity for lying on hispart!"

  "That is quite true," said Frederick. "No doubt," he added, "it was theresult of Arnoux's habits; he had acted thoughtlessly, but perhaps inmatters of a graver character----"

  "What do you see, then, that can be graver?"

  "Oh, nothing!"

  Frederick bent his head with a smile of acquiescence. Nevertheless, heurged, Arnoux possessed certain good qualities; he was fond of hischildren.

  "Ay, and he does all he can to ruin them!"

  Frederick urged that this was due to an excessively easy-goingdisposition, for indeed he was a good fellow.

  She exclaimed:

  "But what is the meaning of that--a good fellow?"

  And he proceeded to defend Arnoux in the vaguest kind of language hecould think of, and, while expressing his sympathy with her, herejoiced, he was delighted, at the bottom of his heart. Throughretaliation or need of affection she would fly to him for refuge. Hislove was intensified by the hope which had now grown immeasurablystronger in his breast.

  Never had she appeared to him so captivating, so perfectly beautiful.From time to time a deep breath made her bosom swell. Her two eyes,gazing fixedly into space, seemed dilated by a vision in the depths ofher consciousness, and her lips were slightly parted, as if to let hersoul escape through them. Sometimes she pressed her handkerchief overthem tightly. He would have liked to be this dainty little piece ofcambric moistened with her tears. In spite of himself, he cast a look atthe bed at the end of the alcove, picturing to himself her head lying onthe pillow, and so vividly did this present itself to his imaginationthat he had to restrain himself to keep from clasping her in his arms.She closed her eyelids, and now she appeared quiescent and languid. Thenhe drew closer to her, and, bending over her, he eagerly scanned herface. At that moment, he heard the noise of boots in the lobbyoutside--it was the other. They heard him shutting the door of his ownroom. Frederick made a sign to Madame Arnoux to ascertain from herwhether he ought to go there.

  She replied "Yes," in the same voiceless fashion; and this mute exchangeof thoughts between them was, as it were, an assent--the preliminarystep in adultery.

  Arnoux was just taking off his coat to go to bed.

  "Well, how is she going on?"

  "Oh! better," said Frederick; "this will pass off."

  But Arnoux was in an anxious state of mind.

  "You don't know her; she has got hysterical now! Idiot of a clerk! Thisis what comes of being too good. If I had not given that cursed shawl toRosanette!"

  "Don't regret having done so a bit. Nobody could be more grateful to youthan she is."

  "Do you really think so?"

  Frederick had not a doubt of it. The best proof of it was her dismissalof Pere Oudry.

  "Ah! poor little thing!"

  And in the excess of his emotion, Arnoux wanted to rush off to herforthwith.

  "'Tisn't worth while. I am calling to see her. She is unwell."

  "All the more reason for my going."

  He quickly put on his coat again, and took up his candlestick. Frederickcursed his own stupidity, and pointed out to him that for decency's sakehe ought to remain this night with his wife. He could not leave her; itwould be very nasty.

  "I tell you candidly you would be doing wrong. There is no hurry overthere. You will go to-morrow. Come; do this for my sake."

  Arnoux put down his candlestick, and, embracing him, said:

  "You are a right good fellow!"