San-Cravate; or, The Messengers; Little Streams Part 128

"Oh! that's a pity!"

"Why so? would you like it to be on the floor again?"

"Oh! yes, because I might have the pleasure of looking for it. And then--and then----"

According to his custom, the young man failed to finish the sentence; but he heaved such a prodigious sigh that Madame Dubotte asked him with concern:

"Are you ill, Monsieur Calle?"

"Oh! no, madame; far from it!"

"Why do you sigh so deeply, then?"

"That is my way of being happy."

"Ah! that's curious. So you are very happy, are you?"

"Oh! yes, madame; I always am--when I am with you!"

He actually finished his sentence that time. eleonore thanked him with a sweet smile; and during the last act she leaned much more frequently on the young man, whose knees served to transform her seat into an armchair.

The performance came to an end. They walked home slowly, very slowly; they did not seem in any haste to arrive. eleonore talked about the play; the young man answered _yes_ and _no_ at random, but he pressed very tenderly the arm that was pa.s.sed through his, and the caress seemed in no wise to offend her to whom it was addressed.

On reaching home, Madame Dubotte invited her young escort to come soon to play bezique with her, while her husband went about without her according to his custom. Calle promised to take advantage of her invitation.

And so, during the following week, Monsieur Calle went almost every evening to play bezique with fair-haired eleonore; and she was no longer out of temper when her husband went out without her. Indeed, she sometimes said to him:

"My dear, if you have any business on hand, don't put yourself out for me; Monsieur Calle will come and stay with me. He is very strong at bezique, and never has enough of it; he is indefatigable!"

Dubotte was enchanted.

"At last I have trained my wife!" he cried; "she is just what I wanted her to be! She isn't on my back all the time now; she leaves me entirely at liberty. That is what I wanted to bring about; I had hard work, but I have succeeded. She goes to the theatre with Calle now, without showing any temper, even when I don't go after her."

The young woman did more than that: when her husband promised to secure a box for her, she always said:

"Try to get a baignoire, my dear!"

XVII

INCORRIGIBLE

Adhemar went to see Nathalie every day; during the day, he gave her all the time which his literary labors left at his disposal, and pa.s.sed all his evenings with her. He often discussed with her his ideas, his plans for new plays; and sometimes read a scene to her, or a chapter of a new novel. He consulted her and profited by her advice. If Moliere consulted his maid-servant, is it not much more natural to consult one's mistress?

There is this difference, however: Laforest, Moliere's servant, was proud and happy to be consulted by her master; whereas, out of twenty mistresses, there will be nineteen who will not listen to you when you talk literature to them, who will yawn when you read them a page that you have just written, or who will interrupt you at the most interesting point to say:

"What color do you prefer for a dress, my dear, green or blue? I myself think that blue is more becoming to me--what do you say?"

Thereupon you see that your efforts as a reader who desires to move his audience are thrown away; you put your ma.n.u.script in your pocket, and make up your mind never to talk with your fair one about anything but dresses and fashions, as she takes no interest in anything else. But there are exceptions; there are women who are willing to listen when you do not talk to them about themselves, and who are able to talk about something besides styles and love. Nathalie was one of these exceptions; that is why Adhemar was so happy in her company; that is why they suited each other so well.

So it was that the most perfect harmony reigned between the lovers, when, on arriving at Madame Dermont's one morning much earlier than usual, Adhemar was informed by the servant that her mistress was not at home.

"What! she has gone out before noon? To do some shopping, I suppose?"

"I don't know, monsieur; but madame will certainly return very soon, for whenever she goes out in the morning like this, she always comes home before noon."

"Whenever she goes out like this!" muttered Adhemar, his heart beginning already to sink. "So Madame Dermont often goes out in the morning?"

"_Dame!_ monsieur, I can't say just how often; but she has been out several times lately."

Adhemar did not pursue his questioning any further. He threw himself into an armchair, thinking:

"I will wait for her; of course, she will tell me where she has been."

And he tried to banish the evil thoughts which were already besieging his mind. Less than five minutes had pa.s.sed, when Nathalie appeared. She seemed a little surprised to find Adhemar there; but she went to him with outstretched hand, and said, smiling as usual:

"Good-morning, my dear!"

"Good-morning, madame!"

"Oho! what does that _madame_ mean? Since when have I been _madame_ to you? Is it because you didn't find me when you came, that you would call me _madame_?"

"Why, no--it was simply for a change."

"I don't like the change, myself! What's the matter?"

"Nothing. Have you been to walk?"

"Yes--that is to say, I have been to pay a visit."

"Oh! a visit. Would it be presumptuous in me to ask you to whom you pay visits--so early?"

"Why, yes, a little presumptuous, perhaps. However, as I see that you are frowning, and that you probably suspect me of treachery already----"

"Oh! upon my word!"

"No, you are incapable of it, aren't you?--Well, monsieur, I have been to see my poor friend Juliette. Are you satisfied?"

"Mon Dieu! I asked you--just for something to say."

"Yes, I understand--and to find out where I had been."

"Did you see your friend Juliette?"

"To be sure!"