In the Days of My Youth Part 34

"And Barbet is--?"

"A--a florist!" I replied, very reluctantly.

"Humph!--a florist!" observed Dr. Cheron, again transfixing me with the cold, blue eye. "To what amount do you suppose you are indebted to Monsieur Barbet?"

I looked down, and became utterly unintelligible.

"Fifty francs?"

"I--I fear, more than--than--"

"A hundred? A hundred and fifty? Two hundred?"

"About two hundred, I suppose, sir," I said desperately.

"Two hundred francs--that is to say, eight pounds English--to your florist! Really, Mr. Arbuthnot, you must be singularly fond of flowers!"

I looked down in silence.

"Have you a conservatory attached to your rooms?"

The skeleton clock struck the half hour.

"Excuse me, sir," I said, driven now to the last extremity, "but--but I have an engagement which--in short, I will, if you please, make out a list of--of these items, ascertaining the correct amount of each; and when once paid, I will endeavor--I mean, it is my earnest desire, to--to limit my expenditure strictly to--in short, to study economy for the future. If, in the meantime, you will have the goodness to excuse me...."

"One word, young man. Will the fifty pounds cover your debts?"

"Quite, sir, I am confident."

"And leave you something in hand for your current expenses?"

"Indeed, I fear very little."

"In that case what will you do?"

This was a terrible question, and one for which I could find no answer.

"Write to your father for another remittance--eh?"

"I--upon my word, I dare not, sir," I faltered.

"Then you would go in debt again?"

"I really fear--even with the strictest economy--I--"

"Be so obliging as to let me have your seat," said Dr. Cheron, thrusting the obnoxious note-book into his pocket and taking my place at the desk, from which he brought out a couple of cards, and a printed paper.

"This ticket," said he, "admits the holder to the anatomical course for the term now beginning, and this to the lectures at the Ecole Pratique.

Both are in my gift. The first is worth two hundred francs, and the second two hundred and fifty. I ought, perhaps, in strict justice, to bestow them upon some needy and deserving individual: however, to save you from debt, or a very unpleasant alternative, I will fill them in with your name, and, when you bring me all your bills receipted, I will transfer to your account the four hundred and fifty francs which I must, otherwise, have paid for your courses out of the remittance forwarded by your father for that purpose. Understand, however, that I must first have the receipts, and that I expect you, on the word of a gentleman, to commit no more follies, and to contract no more debts."

"Oh, sir!" I exclaimed, "how can I ever--"

"No thanks, I beg," interposed Dr. Cheron. "Prove your grat.i.tude by your conduct; do not trouble yourself to talk about it."

"Indeed, sir, you may depend--"

"And no promises either, if you please. I attach no kind of value to them. Stay--here is my check for the fifty pounds forwarded by your father. With that sum extricate yourself from debt. You know the rest."

Hereupon Dr. Cheron replaced the cards and the printed form, double-locked his desk, and, with a slight gesture of the hand, frigidly dismissed me.

I left the house quite chopfallen. I was relieved, it is true, from the incubus of debt; but then how small a figure I had cut in the eyes of Dr. Cheron! Besides, I was small for the second time--reproved for the second time--lectured, helped, put down, and poohpoohed, for the second time! Could I have peeped at myself just then through the wrong end of a telescope, I vow I could not have looked smaller in my own eyes.

I had no time to dine; so I despatched a cup of coffee and a roll on my way home, and went hungry to the theatre.

Josephine was got up with immense splendor for this occasion; greatly to her own satisfaction and my disappointment. Having hired a small private box in the least conspicuous part of the theatre, I had committed the cowardly mistake of endeavoring to transform my grisette into a woman of fashion. I had bought her a pink and white opera cloak, a pretty little fan, a pair of white kid gloves, and a bouquet. With these she wore a decent white muslin dress furnished out of the limited resources of her own wardrobe, and a wreath of pink roses, the work of her own clever fingers. Thus equipped, she was far less pretty than in her coquettish little every-day cap, and looked, I regret to say, more like an _ouvriere_ than ever. Aggravating above all else, however, was her own undisguised delight in her appearance.

"Are my flowers all right? Is my dress tumbled? Is the hood of my cloak in the middle of my back?" were the questions she addressed to me every moment. In the ante-room she took advantage of each mirror we pa.s.sed. In the lobby I caught her trying to look at her own back. When we reached our box she pulled her chair to the very centre of it, and sat there as if she expected to be admired by the whole audience.

"My dear Josephine," I remonstrated, "sit back here, facing the stage.

You will see much better--besides, it is your proper seat, being the only lady in the box."

"Ah, _mon Dieu!_ then I cannot see the house--and how pretty it is! Ever so much prettier than the Gaiete, or the Porte St. Martin!"

"You can see the house by peeping behind the curtain."

"As if I were ashamed to be seen! _Par exemple_!"

"Nay, as you please. I only advise you according to custom and fashion."

Josephine pouted, and unwillingly conceded a couple of inches.

"I wish I had brought the little telescope you gave me last Sunday,"

said she, presently. "There is a gentleman with one down there in the stalls."

"A telescope at the opera--the G.o.ds forbid! Here, however, is my opera-gla.s.s, if you like to use it."

Josephine turned it over curiously, and peeped first through one tube and then through the other.

"Which ought I to look through?" asked she.

"Both, of course."

"Both! How can I?"

"Why thus--as you look through a pair of spectacles."

"_Ciel!_ I can't manage that! I can never look through anything without covering up one eye with my hand."

"Then I think you had better be contented with your own charming eyes, _ma belle_" said I, nervously. "How do you like your bouquet?"