The Flower Girl of The Chateau d'Eau Volume I Part 3

Then came the lady-killers, the oglers, the gallants, who tried to make love to Violette, but she did not listen to them, or at all events paid no heed to what they said. Moreover, Mere Gazon was there and said to those who paid her companion compliments:

"For heaven's sake, let the child alone! You see well enough that you bother her with your fine words, without head or tail! Go and get your hair curled, that would be better."

But one night, Mere Gazon, who had rather abused currant brandy, which she adored as a cordial, felt an oppression that compelled her to keep her bed. The next day she was worse, and she said to her young companion:

"My dear Violette, I believe I am going to pack up and not open shop any more. I leave you all I have; my stock, my flowers, my furniture, my customers. Always be honest and virtuous, don't let anyone cajole you and I have an idea that you will prosper. If I myself had been more prudent with currant brandy, I might have kept shop much longer! but never mind! that's a small matter! I am glad, at all events, to have you with me to close my eyes."

That is Violette's whole story; that is how the little girl abandoned by her parents had become a flower girl.

III

GEORGET AND CHICOTIN

"We would like a magnificent bouquet, mademoiselle," said Madame Glumeau to Violette.

"Yes," said Mademoiselle Eolinde, "a su--su--superb bou--bou----"

"That isn't all," said Monsieur Astianax, doing his utmost to look at the pretty flower girl with both eyes at once. "I wish to express a certain meaning in presenting a bouquet to my father, so that the flowers must interpret my meaning; I would like a _selam_, mademoiselle; give me a _selam_."

Violette stared at him as she replied:

"I don't know that flower, monsieur; does it grow in boxes or in pots?"

"A _selam_ is not a single flower, mademoiselle; it is an arrangement of flowers, which means something particular; it's an oriental bouquet."

"I have no oriental flowers, monsieur."

"But you don't catch my meaning, I mean----"

"Upon my word, Astianax, you are insufferable; you will keep us here two hours when you know that we are in a hurry; select yourself the flowers that you want, and she will make them into a bouquet for you."

Monsieur Astianax, confused by the flower girl's lovely eyes, turned very red and began to rummage among the flowers on the counter, stammering:

"But I don't see--I am looking--I don't find--I would like--haven't you got any?"

"Tell me what flowers you want, monsieur; that will be better than upsetting my whole stock."

But the little fellow could not admire the pretty flower girl enough, and he had no idea what he wanted.

The porter who had in his arms the box with the pomegranate, which was very heavy, and the rosebush, which was not light, said to Madame Glumeau:

"If you're going to be here long, lady, I am going to get a basket to put these things in."

"Oh, no! it isn't worth while, messenger; we are going at once.--Well, my son, have you chosen your flowers?"

"I don't find what I am looking for."

"Bless my soul! Eolinde, is not that Cousin Michonnard, standing over there?"

"Yes, yes, mamma, it is she."

"Ah! if she sees us, we are lost; she will follow us wherever we go; we shall not be able to get rid of her, for she is quite capable of inviting herself to dinner. You know that your father doesn't like her because she always says that he doesn't look well. Let's go along at once before she sees us.--Come, Astianax."

"But my dear mother, I haven't any bouquet."

"It is your own fault, you take too long to decide. You can present your father with a Savoy cake with his monogram, that will be just as respectful. Come, come!--Follow us, messenger."

And this time, without listening to the remonstrances of her son, who declared that a cake did not express his meaning, the stout lady took his arm and dragged him away, but not until the little fellow had darted a random glance in Violette's direction. In a few moments the Glumeau family had disappeared.

Thereupon, a young man in a blouse, with a cap on his head, and with a shrewd, clever face and a slender figure which denoted sixteen years at most, although he was past seventeen, began to laugh as he looked at the pretty flower girl, beside whom he had stopped, and said to her:

"Well, my word! there's customers for you! They come here and handle and move your flowers and spoil them, and then go away without buying anything."

"Dear me, Monsieur Georget, that's the way it is in business; one can't always sell."

"But the young man would have liked to stay, I fancy. What eyes he made at you, zigzag! A man shouldn't be allowed to squint like that! I am sure it would exempt him from the conscription; for when a man looks all ways at once, he can hardly fire straight at the enemy.--But no matter, you have turned his head."

"Mon Dieu! to hear you, Georget, one would think that everybody is in love with me!"

"Well, it seems to me that you don't lack suitors and gallants. There are days when a fellow can't get near your shop, there are so many people around you!"

"I have no reason to complain, that is true. I sell a great deal. My bouquets seem to please."

"Oh! your bouquets--and yourself too. When the dealer is good-looking, that makes business good; and deuce take it! you are mighty good-looking."

"You know very well, Georget, that nothing tires me so much as compliments!"

"Then you must get tired very often! you receive them all day!"

"I can't prevent the gentlemen who buy flowers of me from talking nonsense to me! but it seems to me that you might get along without it."

"So what I say to you is nonsense, is it?"

"Instead of idling away your time every market day, walking back and forth in front of my stand, wouldn't you do better to work?"

"Do you mean that you don't like to have me stop in front of your shop sometimes, mamzelle?"

"I don't say that, but I ask you if you would not do better to work."

"All right, mamzelle, that's enough. I won't stand near you any more, never fear! If you don't like it, why, I----"

"Oh! how wrong-headed you are, Monsieur Georget! a body can't give you a little advice, eh?"

But the young messenger was no longer listening to the pretty flower girl; he walked away with a very p.r.o.nounced frown, and sat down upon one of the steps of the Chateau d'Eau. He had hardly settled down when another youngster of nineteen, tall, strong and active, with his cap c.o.c.ked over one ear in true roistering fashion, came and stood in front of him, crying: