CHAPTER V.

  Included in Madame Gerdy's lease was a coach-house, which was used byher as a lumber room. Here were heaped together all the old rubbishof the household, broken pieces of furniture, utensils past service,articles become useless or cumbrous. It was also used to store theprovision of wood and coal for the winter. This old coach-house hada small door opening on the street, which had been in disuse for manyyears; but which Noel had had secretly repaired and provided with alock. He could thus enter or leave the house at any hour without theconcierge or any one else knowing. It was by this door that the advocatewent out, though not without using the utmost caution in openingand closing it. Once in the street, he stood still a moment, as ifhesitating which way to go. Then, he slowly proceeded in the directionof the St. Lazare railway station, when a cab happening to pass, hehailed it. "Rue du Faubourg Montmarte, at the corner of the Rue deProvence," said Noel, entering the vehicle, "and drive quick."

  The advocate alighted at the spot named, and dismissed the cabman. Whenhe had seen him drive off, Noel turned into the Rue de Provence, and,after walking a few yards, rang the bell of one of the handsomest housesin the street. The door was immediately opened. As Noel passedbefore him the concierge made a most respectful, and at the same timepatronizing bow, one of those salutations which Parisian conciergesreserve for their favorite tenants, generous mortals always ready togive. On reaching the second floor, the advocate paused, drew a key fromhis pocket, and opening the door facing him, entered as if at home. Butat the sound of the key in the lock, though very faint, a lady's maid,rather young and pretty, with a bold pair of eyes, ran toward him.

  "Ah! it is you, sir," cried she.

  This exclamation escaped her just loud enough to be audible at theextremity of the apartment, and serve as a signal if needed. It was asif she had cried, "Take care!"

  Noel did not seem to notice it. "Madame is there?" asked he.

  "Yes, sir, and very angry too. This morning she wanted to send some oneto you. A little while ago she spoke of going to find you, sir, herself.I have had much difficulty in prevailing on her not to disobey yourorders."

  "Very well," said the advocate.

  "Madame is in the smoking room," continued the girl "I am making her acup of tea. Will you have one, sir?"

  "Yes," replied Noel. "Show me a light, Charlotte."

  He passed successively through a magnificent dining-room, a splendidgilded drawing-room in Louis XIV. style, and entered the smoking-room.This was a rather large apartment with a very high ceiling. Once insideone might almost fancy oneself three thousand miles from Paris, inthe house of some opulent mandarin of the celestial Empire. Furniture,carpet, hangings, pictures, all had evidently been imported direct fromHong Kong or Shanghai. A rich silk tapestry representing brilliantlycoloured figures, covered the walls, and hid the doors from view.All the empire of the sun and moon was depicted thereon in vermillionlandscapes: corpulent mandarins surrounded by their lantern-bearers;learned men lay stupefied with opium, sleeping under their parasols;young girls with elevated eyebrows, stumbled upon their diminutive feetswathed in bandages. The carpet of a manufacture unknown to Europeans,was strewn with fruits and flowers, so true to nature that they mighthave deceived a bee. Some great artist of Pekin had painted on the silkwhich covered the ceiling numerous fantastic birds, opening on azureground their wings of purple and gold. Slender rods of lacquer, inlaidwith mother of pearl, bordered the draperies, and marked the angles ofthe apartment. Two fantastic looking chests entirely occupied one sideof the room. Articles of furniture of capricious and incoherent forms,tables with porcelain tops, and chiffoniers of precious woods encumberedevery recess or angle. There were also ornamental cabinets and shelvespurchased of Lien-Tsi, the Tahan of Sou-Tcheou, the artistic city, anda thousand curiosities, both miscellaneous and costly, from the ivorysticks which are used instead of forks, to the porcelain teacups,thinner than soap bubbles,--miracles of the reign of Kien-Loung. A verylarge and very low divan piled up with cushions, covered with tapestrysimilar to the hangings, occupied one end of the room. There was noregular window, but instead a large single pane of glass, fixed into thewall of the house; in front of it was a double glass door with moveablepanes, and the space between was filled with the most rare flowers. Thegrate was replaced by registers adroitly concealed, which maintainedin the apartment a temperature fit for hatching silkworms, thus trulyharmonising with the furniture.

  When Noel entered, a woman, still young, was reclining on the divan,smoking a cigarette. In spite of the tropical heat, she was envelopedin heavy Cashmere shawls. She was small, but then only small women canunite in their persons every perfection. Women who are above the mediumheight must be either essays, or errors of nature. No matter how lovelythey may look, they invariably present some defect, like the work of astatuary, who, though possessed of genius, attempts for the first timesculpture on a grand scale. She was small, but her neck, her shoulders,and her arms had the most exquisite contours. Her hands with theirtapering fingers and rosy nails looked like jewels preciously cared for.Her feet, encased in silken stockings almost as thin as a spider's-web,were a marvel; not that they recalled the very fabulous foot whichCinderella thrust into the glass slipper; but the other, very real, verycelebrated and very palpable foot, of which the fair owner (the lovelywife of a well-known banker) used to present the model either in bronzeor in marble to her numerous admirers. Her face was, not beautiful, noreven pretty; but her features were such as one seldom forgets; for, atthe first glance, they startled the beholder like a flash of lightning.Her forehead was a little high, and her mouth unmistakably large,notwithstanding the provoking freshness of her lips. Her eyebrows wereso perfect they seem to have been drawn with India ink; but, unhappilythe pencil had been used too heavily; and they gave her an unpleasantexpression when she frowned. On the other hand, her smooth complexionhad a rich golden pallor; and her black and velvety eyes possessedenormous magnetic power. Her teeth were of a pearly brilliancy andwhiteness, and her hair, of prodigious opulence, was black and fine, andglossy as a raven's wing.

  On perceiving Noel, as he pushed aside the silken hangings, she halfarose and leaned upon her elbow. "So you have come at last?" sheobserved in a tone of vexation; "you are very kind."

  The advocate felt almost suffocated by the oppressive temperature of theroom. "How warm it is!" said he; "it is enough to stifle one!"

  "Do you find it so?" replied the young woman. "Well, I am actuallyshivering! It is true though, that I am very unwell. Waiting isunbearable to me, it acts upon my nerves; and I have been waiting foryou ever since yesterday."

  "It was quite impossible for me to come," explained Noel, "quiteimpossible!"

  "You knew, however," continued the lady, "that to-day was my settlingday; and that I had several heavy accounts to settle. The tradesmen allcame, and I had not a half-penny to give them. The coachmaker sent hisbill, but there was no money. Then that old rascal Clergot, to whom Ihad given an acceptance for three thousand francs, came and kicked up afrightful row. How pleasant all this is!"

  Noel bowed his head like a schoolboy rebuked for having neglected hislessons. "It is but one day behind," he murmured.

  "And that is nothing, is it?" retorted the young woman. "A manwho respects himself, my friend, may allow his own signature to bedishonoured, but never that of his mistress! Do you wish to destroymy credit altogether? You know very well that the only consideration Ireceive is what my money pays for. So as soon as I am unable to pay, itwill be all up with me."

  "My dear Juliette," began the advocate gently.

  "Oh, yes! that's all very fine," interrupted she. "Your dear Juliette!your adored Juliette! so long as you are here it is really charming;but no sooner are you outside than you forget everything. Do you everremember then that there is such a person as Juliette?"

  "How unjust you are!" replied Noel. "Do you not know that I am alwaysthinking of you; have I not proved it to you a thousand times? Lookhere! I am going to prove it to you agai
n this very instant." Hewithdrew from his pocket the small packet he had taken out of his bureaudrawer, and, undoing it, showed her a handsome velvet casket. "Here,"said he exultingly, "is the bracelet you longed for so much a week agoat Beaugrau's."

  Madame Juliette, without rising, held out her hand to take the casket,and, opening it with the utmost indifference, just glanced at the jewel,and merely said, "Ah!"

  "Is this the one you wanted?" asked Noel.

  "Yes, but it looked much prettier in the shop window." She closed thecasket, and threw it carelessly on to a small table near her.

  "I am unfortunate this evening," said the advocate, much mortified.

  "How so?"

  "I see plainly the bracelet does not please you."

  "Oh, but it does. I think it lovely . . . besides, it will complete thetwo dozen."

  It was now Noel's turn to say: "Ah! . . ." and as Juliette said nothing,he added: "Well, if you are pleased, you do not show it."

  "Oh! so that is what you are driving at!" cried the lady. "I am notgrateful enough to suit you! You bring me a present, and I ought at onceto pay cash, fill the house with cries of joy, and throw myself upon myknees before you, calling you a great and magnificent lord!"

  Noel was unable this time to restrain a gesture of impatience, whichJuliette perceived plainly enough, to her great delight.

  "Would that be sufficient?" continued she. "Shall I call Charlotte,so that she may admire this superb bracelet, this monument of yourgenerosity? Shall I have the concierge up, and call the cook to tellthem how happy I am to possess such a magnificent lover."

  The advocate shrugged his shoulders like a philosopher, incapable ofnoticing a child's banter. "What is the use of these insulting jests?"said he. "If you have any real complaint against me, better to say sosimply and seriously."

  "Very well," said Juliette, "let us be serious. And, that being so, Iwill tell you it would have been better to have forgotten the bracelet,and to have brought me last night or this morning the eight thousandfrancs I wanted."

  "I could not come."

  "You should have sent them; messengers are still to be found at thestreet-corners."

  "If I neither brought nor sent them, my dear Juliette, it was because Idid not have them. I had trouble enough in getting them promised me forto-morrow. If I have the sum this evening, I owe it to a chance uponwhich I could not have counted an hour ago; but by which I profited, atthe risk of compromising myself."

  "Poor man!" said Juliette, with an ironical touch of pity in hervoice. "Do you dare to tell me you have had difficulty in obtaining tenthousand francs,--you?"

  "Yes,--I!"

  The young woman looked at her lover, and burst into a fit of laughter."You are really superb when you act the poor young man!" said she.

  "I am not acting."

  "So you say, my own. But I see what you are aiming at. This amiableconfession is the preface. To-morrow you will declare that your affairsare very much embarrassed, and the day after to-morrow . . . Ah! you arebecoming very avaricious. It is a virtue you used not to possess. Do younot already regret the money you have given me?"

  "Wretched woman!" murmured Noel, fast losing patience.

  "Really," continued the lady, "I pity you, oh! so much. Unfortunatelover! Shall I get up a subscription for you? In your place, I wouldappeal to public charity."

  Noel could stand it no longer, in spite of his resolution to remaincalm. "You think it a laughing matter?" cried he. "Well! let me tellyou, Juliette, I am ruined, and I have exhausted my last resources! I amreduced to expedients!"

  The eyes of the young woman brightened. She looked at her lovertenderly. "Oh, if 'twas only true, my big pet!" said she. "If I onlycould believe you!"

  The advocate was wounded to the heart. "She believes me," thought he;"and she is glad. She detests me."

  He was mistaken. The idea that a man had loved her sufficiently to ruinhimself for her, without allowing even a reproach to escape him, filledthis woman with joy. She felt herself on the point of loving the man,now poor and humbled, whom she had despised when rich and proud. But theexpression of her eyes suddenly changed, "What a fool I am," cried she,"I was on the point of believing all that, and of trying to consoleyou. Don't pretend that you are one of those gentlemen who scatter theirmoney broadcast. Tell that to somebody else, my friend! All men in ourdays calculate like money-lenders. There are only a few fools who ruinthemselves now, some conceited youngsters, and occasionally an amorousold dotard. Well, you are a very calm, very grave, and very seriousfellow, but above all, a very strong one."

  "Not with you, anyhow," murmured Noel.

  "Come now, stop that nonsense! You know very well what you are about.Instead of a heart, you have a great big double zero, just like aHomburg. When you took a fancy to me, you said to yourself, 'I willexpend so much on passion,' and you have kept your word. It is aninvestment, like any other, in which one receives interest in the formof pleasure. You are capable of all the extravagance in the world, tothe extent of your fixed price of four thousand francs a month! If itrequired a franc more you would very soon take back your heart andyour hat, and carry them elsewhere; to one or other of my rivals in theneighborhood."

  "It is true," answered the advocate, coolly. "I know how to count, andthat accomplishment is very useful to me. It enables me to know exactlyhow and where I have got rid of my fortune."

  "So you really know?" sneered Juliette.

  "And I can tell you, madam," continued he. "At first you were not veryexacting, but the appetite came with eating. You wished for luxury,you have it; splendid furniture, you have it; a complete establishment,extravagant dresses, I could refuse you nothing. You required acarriage, a horse, I gave them you. And I do not mention a thousandother whims. I include neither this Chinese cabinet nor the two dozenbracelets. The total is four hundred thousand francs!"

  "Are you sure?"

  "As one can be who has had that amount, and has it no longer."

  "Four hundred thousand francs, only fancy! Are there no centimes?"

  "No."

  "Then, my dear friend, if I make up my bill, you will still owe mesomething."

  The entrance of the maid with the tea-tray interrupted this amorousduet, of which Noel had experienced more than one repetition. Theadvocate held his tongue on account of the servant. Juliette did thesame on account of her lover, for she had no secrets from Charlotte, whohad been with her three years, and with whom she had shared everything,sometimes even her lovers.

  Madame Juliette Chaffour was a Parisienne. She was born about 1839,somewhere in the upper end of the Faubourg Montmarte. Her father wasunknown. Her infancy was a long alternation of beatings and caresses,equally furious. She had lived as best she could, on sweetmeats anddamaged fruit; so that now her stomach could stand anything. At twelveyears old she was as thin as a nail, as green as a June apple, and moredepraved than the inmates of the prison of St. Lazare. Prudhomme wouldhave said that this precocious little hussy was totally destitute ofmorality. She had not the slightest idea what morality was. She thoughtthe world was full of honest people living like her mother, and hermother's friends. She feared neither God nor devil, but she was afraidof the police. She dreaded also certain mysterious and cruel persons,whom she had heard spoken of, who dwell near the Palais de Justice, andwho experience a malicious pleasure in seeing pretty girls in trouble.As she gave no promise of beauty, she was on the point of being placedin a shop, when an old and respectable gentleman, who had known hermamma some years previously, accorded her his protection. Thisold gentleman, prudent and provident like all old gentlemen, was aconnoisseur, and knew that to reap one must sow. He resolved first ofall to give his protege just a varnish of education. He procured mastersfor her, who in less than three years taught her to write, to play thepiano, and to dance. What he did not procure her, however, was a lover.She therefore found one for herself, an artist who taught her nothingvery new, but who carried her off to offer her half of what hepossessed, that is to say n
othing. At the end of three months, havinghad enough of it, she left the nest of her first love, with all shepossessed tied up in a cotton pocket handkerchief.

  During the four years which followed, she led a precarious existence,sometimes with little else to live upon but hope, which never whollyabandons a young girl who knows she has pretty eyes. By turns she sunkto the bottom, or rose to the surface of the stream in which she foundherself. Twice had fortune in new gloves come knocking at her door, butshe had not the sense to keep her. With the assistance of a strollingplayer, she had just appeared on the stage of a small theatre, andspoken her lines rather well, when Noel by chance met her, loved her,and made her his mistress. Her advocate, as she called him, did notdisplease her at first. After a few months, though, she could not bearhim. She detested him for his polite and polished manners, his manlybearing, his distinguished air, his contempt, which he did not careto hide, for all that is low and vulgar, and, above all, for hisunalterable patience, which nothing could tire. Her great complaintagainst him was that he was not at all funny, and also, that heabsolutely declined to conduct her to those places where one can givea free vent to one's spirits. To amuse herself, she began to squandermoney; and her aversion for her lover increased at the same rate as herambition and his sacrifices. She rendered him the most miserable of men,and treated him like a dog; and this not from any natural badness ofdisposition, but from principle. She was persuaded that a woman isbeloved in proportion to the trouble she causes and the mischief shedoes.

  Juliette was not wicked, and she believed she had much to complain of.The dream of her life was to be loved in a way which she felt, but couldscarcely have explained. She had never been to her lovers more than aplaything. She understood this; and, as she was naturally proud, theidea enraged her. She dreamed of a man who would be devoted enough tomake a real sacrifice for her, a lover who would descend to her level,instead of attempting to raise her to his. She despaired of ever meetingsuch a one. Noel's extravagance left her as cold as ice. She believed hewas very rich, and singularly, in spite of her greediness, she didnot care much for money. Noel would have won her easier by a brutalfrankness that would have shown her clearly his situation. He lost herlove by the delicacy of his dissimulation, that left her ignorant of thesacrifices he was making for her.

  Noel adored Juliette. Until the fatal day he saw her, he had lived likea sage. This, his first passion, burned him up; and, from the disaster,he saved only appearances.

  The four walls remained standing, but the interior of the edifice wasdestroyed. Even heroes have their vulnerable parts, Achilles died froma wound in the heel. The most artfully constructed armour has a flawsomewhere. Noel was assailable by means of Juliette, and through herwas at the mercy of everything and every one. In four years, thismodel young man, this advocate of immaculate reputation, this austeremoralist, had squandered not only his own fortune on her, but MadameGerdy's also. He loved her madly, without reflection, without measure,with his eyes shut. At her side, he forgot all prudence, and thought outloud. In her boudoir, he dropped his mask of habitual dissimulation, andhis vices displayed themselves, at ease, as his limbs in a bath. He felthimself so powerless against her, that he never essayed to struggle. Shepossessed him. Once or twice he attempted to firmly oppose her ruinouscaprices; but she had made him pliable as the osier. Under the darkglances of this girl, his strongest resolutions melted more quickly thansnow beneath an April sun. She tortured him; but she had also the powerto make him forget all by a smile, a tear, or a kiss. Away from theenchantress, reason returned at intervals, and, in his lucid moments,he said to himself, "She does not love me. She is amusing herself atmy expense!" But the belief in her love had taken such deep root in hisheart that he could not pluck it forth. He made himself a monster ofjealousy, and then argued with himself respecting her fidelity. Onseveral occasions he had strong reasons to doubt her constancy, but henever had the courage to declare his suspicions. "If I am not mistaken,I shall either have to leave her," thought he, "or accept everything inthe future." At the idea of a separation from Juliette, he trembled,and felt his passion strong enough to compel him to submit to the lowestindignity. He preferred even these heartbreaking doubts to a still moredreadful certainty.

  The presence of the maid who took a considerable time in arranging thetea-table gave Noel an opportunity to recover himself. He looked atJuliette; and his anger took flight. Already he began to ask himself ifhe had not been a little cruel to her. When Charlotte retired, he cameand took a seat on the divan beside his mistress, and attempted to puthis arms round her. "Come," said he in a caressing tone, "you have beenangry enough for this evening. If I have done wrong, you have punishedme sufficiently. Kiss me, and make it up."

  She repulsed him angrily, and said in a dry tone,--"Let me alone! Howmany times must I tell you that I am very unwell this evening."

  "You suffer, my love?" resumed the advocate, "where? Shall I send forthe doctor?"

  "There is no need. I know the nature of my malady; it is called ennui.You are not at all the doctor who could do anything for me."

  Noel rose with a discouraged air, and took his place at the side of thetea-table, facing her. His resignation bespoke how habituated he hadbecome to these rebuffs. Juliette snubbed him; but he returned always,like the poor dog who lies in wait all day for the time when hiscaresses will not be inopportune. "You have told me very often duringthe last few months, that I bother you. What have I done?" he asked.

  "Nothing."

  "Well, then, why--?"

  "My life is nothing more than a continual yawn," answered the youngwoman; "is it my fault? Do you think it very amusing to be yourmistress? Look at yourself. Does there exist another being as sad,as dull as you, more uneasy, more suspicious, devoured by a greaterjealousy!"

  "Your reception of me, my dear Juliette," ventured Noel "is enough toextinguish gaiety and freeze all effusion. Then one always fears whenone loves!"

  "Really! Then one should seek a woman to suit oneself, or have her madeto order; shut her up in the cellar, and have her brought upstairs oncea day, at the end of dinner, during dessert, or with the champagne justby way of amusement."

  "I should have done better not to have come," murmured the advocate.

  "Of course. I am to remain alone here, without anything to occupy meexcept a cigarette and a stupid book, that I go to sleep over? Do youcall this an existence, never to budge out of the house even?"

  "It is the life of all the respectable women that I know," replied theadvocate drily.

  "Then I cannot compliment them on their enjoyment. Happily, though, Iam not a respectable woman, and I can tell you I am tired of livingmore closely shut up than the wife of a Turk, with your face for soleamusement."

  "You live shut up, you?"

  "Certainly!" continued Juliette, with increased bitterness. "Come, haveyou ever brought one of your friends here? No, you hide me. Whenhave you offered me your arm for a walk? Never, your dignity would besullied, if you were seen in my company. I have a carriage. Have youentered it half a dozen times? Perhaps; but then you let down theblinds! I go out alone. I walk about alone!"

  "Always the same refrain," interrupted Noel, anger getting the better ofhim, "always these uncalled for complaints. As though you had still tolearn the reason why this state of things exists."

  "I know well enough," pursued the young woman, "that you are ashamed ofme. Yet I know many bigger swells then you, who do not mind being seenwith their mistresses. My lord trembles for his fine name of Gerdy thatI might sully, while the sons of the most noble families are not afraidof showing themselves in public places in the company of the stupidestof kept women."

  At last Noel could stand it no longer, to the great delight of MadameChaffour.

  "Enough of these recriminations!" cried he, rising. "If I hide ourrelations, it is because I am constrained to do so. Of what do youcomplain? You have unrestrained liberty; and you use it, too, andso largely that your actions altogether escape me. You accuse me ofcreati
ng a vacuum around you. Who is to blame? Did I grow tired of ahappy and quiet existence? My friends would have come to see us in ahome in accordance with a modest competence. Can I bring them here? Onseeing all this luxury, this insolent display of my folly, they wouldask each other where I obtained all the money I have spent on you. Imay have a mistress, but I have not the right to squander a fortune thatdoes not belong to me. If my acquaintances learnt to-morrow that it is Iwho keep you, my future prospects would be destroyed. What client wouldconfide his interests to the imbecile who ruined himself for the womanwho has been the talk of all Paris? I am not a great lord, I haveneither an historical name to tarnish, nor an immense fortune to lose. Iam plain Noel Gerdy, a advocate. My reputation is all that I possess. Itis a false one, I admit. Such as it is, however, I must keep it, and Iwill keep it."

  Juliette who knew her Noel thoroughly, saw that she had gone farenough. She determined, therefore, to put him in a good humor again. "Myfriend," said she, tenderly, "I did not wish to cause you pain. You mustbe indulgent, I am so horribly nervous this evening."

  This sudden change delighted the advocate, and almost sufficed to calmhis anger. "You will drive me mad with your injustice," said he. "WhileI exhaust my imagination to find what can be agreeable to you, you areperpetually attacking my gravity; yet it is not forty-eight hours sincewe were plunged in all the gaiety of the carnival. I kept the fete ofShrove Tuesday like a student. We went to a theatre; I then put on adomino, and accompanied you to the ball at the opera, and even invitedtwo of my friends to sup with us."

  "It was very gay indeed!" answered the young woman, making a wry face.

  "So I think."

  "Do you! Then you are not hard to please. We went to the Vaudeville, itis true, but separately, as we always do, I alone above, you below. Atthe ball you looked as though you were burying the devil. At the suppertable your friends were as melancholy as a pair of owls. I obeyed yourorders by affecting hardly to know you. You imbibed like a sponge,without my being able to tell whether you were drunk or not."

  "That proves," interrupted Noel, "that we ought not to force our tastes.Let us talk of something else."

  He took a few steps in the room, then looking at his watch said: "Almostone o'clock; my love, I must leave you."

  "What! you are not going to remain?"

  "No, to my great regret; my mother is dangerously ill."

  He unfolded and counted out on the table the bank notes he had receivedfrom old Tabaret.

  "My little Juliette," said he, "here are not eight thousand francs, butten thousand. You will not see me again for a few days."

  "Are you leaving Paris, then?"

  "No; but my entire time will be absorbed by an affair of immenseimportance to myself. If I succeed in my undertaking, my dear, ourfuture happiness is assured, and you will then see whether I love you!"

  "Oh, my dear Noel, tell me what it is."

  "I cannot now."

  "Tell me I beseech you," pleaded the young woman, hanging round hisneck, raising herself upon the tips of her toes to press her lips tohis. The advocate embraced her; and his resolution seemed to waver.

  "No," said he at length, "seriously I cannot. Of what use to awaken inyou hopes which can never be realized? Now, my darling, listen to me.Whatever may happen, understand, you must under no pretext whateveragain come to my house, as you once had the imprudence to do. Do noteven write to me. By disobeying, you may do me an irreparable injury. Ifany accident occurs, send that old rascal Clergot to me. I shall havea visit from him the day after to-morrow, for he holds some bills ofmine."

  Juliette recoiled, menacing Noel with a mutinous gesture. "You will nottell me anything?" insisted she.

  "Not this evening, but very soon," replied the advocate, embarrassed bythe piercing glance of his mistress.

  "Always some mystery!" cried Juliette, piqued at the want of successattending her blandishments.

  "This will be the last, I swear to you!"

  "Noel, my good man," said the young woman in a serious tone, "you arehiding something from me. I understand you, as you know; for severaldays past there has been something or other the matter with you, youhave completely changed."

  "I swear to you, Juliette--"

  "No, swear nothing; I should not believe you. Only remember, no attemptat deceiving me, I forewarn you. I am a woman capable of revenge."

  The advocate was evidently ill at ease. "The affair in question,"stammered he, "can as well fail as succeed."

  "Enough," interrupted Juliette; "your will shall be obeyed. I promisethat. Come, sir, kiss me. I am going to bed."

  The door was hardly shut upon Noel when Charlotte was installed on thedivan near her mistress. Had the advocate been listening at the door,he might have heard Madame Juliette saying, "No, really, I can no longerendure him. What a bore he is, my girl. Ah! if I was not so afraid ofhim, wouldn't I leave him at once? But he is capable of killing me!"

  The girl vainly tried to defend Noel; but her mistress did not listen.She murmured, "Why does he absent himself, and what is he plotting? Anabsence of eight days is suspicious. Can he by any chance intend to bemarried? Ah! if I only knew. You weary me to death, my good Noel, and Iam determined to leave you to yourself one of these fine mornings; butI cannot permit you to quit me first. Supposing he is going to getmarried? But I will not allow it. I must make inquiries."

  Noel, however, was not listening at the door. He went along the Rue deProvence as quickly as possible, gained the Rue St. Lazare, and enteredthe house as he had departed, by the stable door. He had but just satdown in his study, when the servant knocked.

  "Sir," cried she, "in heaven's name answer me!"

  He opened the door and said impatiently, "What is it?"

  "Sir," stammered the girl in tears, "this is the third time I haveknocked, and you have not answered. Come, I implore you. I am afraidmadame is dying!"

  He followed her to Madame Gerdy's room. He must have found the poorwoman terribly changed, for he could not restrain a movement of terror.The invalid struggled painfully beneath her coverings. Her face was ofa livid paleness, as though there was not a drop of blood left in herveins; and her eyes, which glittered with a sombre light, seemed filledwith a fine dust. Her hair, loose and disordered, falling over hercheeks and upon her shoulders, contributed to her wild appearance.She uttered from time to time a groan hardly audible, or murmuredunintelligible words. At times, a fiercer pang than the former onesforced a cry of anguish from her. She did not recognise Noel.

  "You see, sir," said the servant.

  "Yes. Who would have supposed her malady could advance so rapidly?Quick, run to Dr. Herve's, tell him to get up, and to come at once, tellhim it is for me." And he seated himself in an arm-chair, facing thesuffering woman.

  Dr. Herve was one of Noel's friends, an old school-fellow, and thecompanion of his student days. The doctor's history differed innothing from that of most young men, who, without fortune, friends,or influence, enter upon the practice of the most difficult, the mosthazardous of professions that exist in Paris, where one sees so manytalented young doctors forced, to earn their bread, to place themselvesat the disposition of infamous drug vendors. A man of remarkable courageand self-reliance, Herve, his studies over, said to himself, "No, I willnot go and bury myself in the country, I will remain in Paris, I willthere become celebrated. I shall be surgeon-in-chief of an hospital, anda knight of the Legion of Honour."

  To enter upon this path of thorns, leading to a magnificent triumphalarch, the future academician ran himself twenty thousand francs in debtto furnish a small apartment. Here, armed with a patience whichnothing could fatigue, an iron resolution that nothing could subdue, hestruggled and waited. Only those who have experienced it can understandwhat sufferings are endured by the poor, proud man, who waits in a blackcoat, freshly shaven, with smiling lips, while he is starving of hunger!The refinements of civilization have inaugurated punishments which putin the shade the cruelties of the savage. The unknown physician mustbe
gin by attending the poor who cannot pay him. Sometimes too thepatient is ungrateful. He is profuse in promises whilst in danger; but,when cured, he scorns the doctor, and forgets to pay him his fee.

  After seven years of heroic perseverance, Herve has secured at lasta circle of patients who pay him. During this he lived and paid theexorbitant interest of his debt, but he is getting on. Three or fourpamphlets, and a prize won without much intrigue, have attracted publicattention to him. But he is no longer the brave young enthusiast, fullof the faith and hope that attended him on his first visits. He stillwishes, and more than ever, to acquire distinction, but he no longerexpects any pleasure from his success. He used up that feeling in thedays when he had not wherewith to pay for his dinner. No matter howgreat his fortune may be in the days to come, he has already paid toodearly for it. For him future success is only a kind of revenge.Less than thirty-five years old, he is already sick of the world, andbelieves in nothing. Under the appearance of universal benevolence heconceals universal scorn. His finesse, sharpened by the grindstoneof adversity, has become mischievous. And, while he sees through alldisguises worn by others, he hides his penetration carefully under amask of cheerful good nature and jovialness. But he is kind, he loveshis friends, and is devoted to them.

  He arrived, hardly dressed, so great had been his haste. His first wordson entering were, "What is the matter?"

  Noel pressed his hand in silence, and by way of answer, pointed to thebed. In less than a minute, the doctor seized the lamp, examined thesick woman, and returned to his friend. "What has happened?" he askedsharply. "It is necessary I should know."

  The advocate started at the question. "Know what?" stammered he.

  "Everything!" answered Herve. "She is suffering from inflammation of thebrain. There is no mistaking that. It is by no means a common complaint,in spite of the constant working of that organ. What can have causedit? There appears to be no injury to the brain or its bony covering, themischief, then, must have been caused by some violent emotion, a greatgrief, some unexpected catastrophe . . ."

  Noel interrupted his friend by a gesture, and drew him into theembrasure of the window. "Yes, my friend," said he in a low tone,"Madame Gerdy has experienced great mental suffering, she has beenfrightfully tortured by remorse. Listen, Herve. I will confide oursecret to your honour and your friendship. Madame Gerdy is not mymother; she despoiled me, to enrich her son with my fortune and my name.Three weeks ago I discovered this unworthy fraud; she knows it, andthe consequences terrify her. Ever since, she has been dying minute byminute."

  The advocate expected some exclamations of astonishment, and a hostof questions from his friend; but the doctor received the explanationwithout remark, as a simple statement, indispensable to hisunderstanding the case.

  "Three weeks," he murmured; "then, that explains everything. Has sheappeared to suffer much during the time?"

  "She complained of violent headaches, dimness of sight, and intolerablepains in her ears, she attributed all that though to megrims. Donot, however, conceal anything from me, Herve; is her complaint veryserious?"

  "So serious, my friend, so invariably fatal, that I am almostundertaking a hopeless task in attempting a cure."

  "Ah! good heaven!"

  "You asked for the truth, and I have told it you. If I had that courage,it was because you told me this poor woman is not your mother. Nothingshort of a miracle can save her; but this miracle we may hope andprepare for. And now to work!"