San-Cravate; or, The Messengers; Little Streams Part 114

"You! why, you are my wife, and that ought to satisfy you; it seems to me that that's something to say!--To cut it short, my dear Mirotaine, I tell you again, this whole business is probably a joke invented by my friend Dodichet, who pa.s.ses his time looking about for somebody to make a fool of. And so, although he's an old schoolmate of mine, I have never asked him to my house; not that I am afraid of his nonsense; I have a wife, thank G.o.d! with whom I can sleep with both eyes shut!"

"And that is just what you do, my dear; you always sleep when you're with me."

"Hush, Nonore! These domestic details are never talked about in company."

"Why not, my dear?"

"Why, because----"

Monsieur Mirotaine was as savage as a bulldog because he had given a dinner party to no purpose. Aldegonde was annoyed at being deceived by her dealer in wardrobes, who had gone away in dire confusion at having made a mess of it. The rest of the company soon followed Madame Putiphar's example; the three balloons withdrew, constantly colliding with one another; Monsieur Brid'oison, in the hat which had been left in place of his; Artaban, climbing on his father's shoulders; Madame Trichon, rubbing the eye which had received the pickled onion; and young Calle, looking longingly at Aldegonde, who did not look at him because she was angry. Juliette alone was happy, but she dared not show it.

Lastly, Dubotte and his wife took leave of the host and hostess.

"This party has been a failure," said Philemon to young Calle, who put on his gloves as he went downstairs. "It's only ten o'clock--what in the deuce can we do now?"

"Seven minutes past ten!" said the young spark, looking at his watch; "I agree with the Treasury."

"Never mind; a fellow can't go home to bed at seven minutes after ten; for my part, I hate to go to bed early."

"True--it's bad form."

"But you always want me to go to bed early, my dear."

"Yes--because it's very healthy for women; they need more sleep than we do.--Which way are you going, Monsieur Calle?"

"Rue de la Tour d'Auvergne, No. 8, monsieur."

"Indeed! and we live on Rue Bleue, within a few steps. By the way, Monsieur Calle, are you related to a Calle of Lyon, wholesale dealer in silks?"

"He's my cousin, monsieur."

"Pardieu! he's one of my best friends. When we were bachelors, he used to come to Paris often; we've had many a spree together!"

"What, my dear! did you ever go on sprees?"

"I was speaking to Monsieur Calle, Nonore; it doesn't concern you.--So you are edouard Calle's cousin?"

"I have that honor."

"Sapristi! what a bore it is to go home at ten o'clock!"

"If you want to take me anywhere, my dear, I am all ready."

"Why, no, madame, no; I don't care to take you anywhere to-night. It's too late to go to the theatre--so there's nowhere to go but a cafe, and men don't take their wives to a cafe; it's very bad form. Besides, women don't enjoy it, and they're terribly in the way."

"But you go there a great deal!"

"I go to my club--a most excellent club, where one can always have a game of cards; and I confess that I am strongly inclined to go there and play a game of whist."

"Well! take me to your club."

"Upon my word! as if women were ever admitted! Women at a club! Why, we couldn't hear ourselves talk! I feel just like going there to-night, but it's in an entirely different direction from my house. It just occurs to me that as Monsieur Calle lives in our quarter, it would not inconvenience him very much to leave you at our door; in that way, I could go to my club."

"I am entirely at your service, monsieur, and it will give me great pleasure to escort madame."

"What! you are going to leave me, Philemon? you are going to send me home with monsieur, whom I hardly know?"

"Why, bless my soul, Nonore! I don't see that monsieur has a very terrifying aspect. Besides, he is a friend of Mirotaine, and the cousin of a man with whom I am very intimate; so he isn't a stranger to me."

"I don't care for that; you know very well that I am not in the habit of taking any man's arm but yours."

"Exactly; and it's a most absurd idea, of which you must cure yourself."

With that, the fair-haired beau took his wife's arm from within his own and turned it over to the young man, who was modestly waiting.

"My dear Monsieur Calle," he said, "I intrust my wife to you, and my mind is entirely at ease; I am convinced that you won't lose her."

"Oh! no, monsieur; I will not leave madame until she is safely inside her door."

"Thanks.--Au revoir, Nonore! go right to bed; I shan't be late."

"Philemon! Philemon! you are going away without kissing me!"

But Philemon was already at some distance; delighted to be rid of his wife, he had fairly taken to his heels. The loving eleonore heaved a profound sigh, and decided at last to take the arm which young Calle offered her. They walked away, the little woman still sighing, her escort cudgelling his brain to think of something to say to console her.

"If madame thinks that we are walking too fast," he faltered at last, "we can walk more slowly."

"Oh! this is all right, monsieur."

And they walked on in silence. In a moment, the little woman, who was rather fond of talking, opened the conversation.

"You are not married, are you, monsieur?"

"No, madame; I am a bachelor."

"When you are married, shall you send your wife home under the escort of some acquaintance?"

"Mon Dieu! madame, I must confess that I don't know what I shall do."

"Shall you be displeased if your wife always wants to go out with you?"

"Oh! I think not, madame."

"Will it annoy you, if she comes to you often for a kiss?"

"Oh! certainly not; far from it! especially if--especially if she--no, it wouldn't annoy me."

Monsieur Calle had tried to pay a compliment to the lady on his arm, but it would not come out.