The Flower Girl of The Chateau d'Eau Volume Ii Part 39

"Doctors don't know of any remedy for this disease, my neighbor; several of them have told me this themselves when talking with me."

"Nonsense! I have been told of several people who were entirely cured; and I remember now--it was syrup of _Boubee_ that he told you to take."

"That is quite possible."

"I beg you, monsieur, take some of it; even if it should do nothing but lessen the pain, would that not be a great gain?"

"As you insist upon it, I will take some."

"If you are willing, monsieur, I won't stay long in my booth to-day, and I will bring you some in a little while when I come home."

"No, no, my little neighbor, I won't have it; for you never tell me the price of things; you manage so that they cost me almost nothing. But I don't propose to have that, and I shall be angry if you go on acting in that way; I shall be obliged to deprive myself of the pleasure of seeing you."

"Oh! it wouldn't do any good for you to forbid me to come, monsieur; I should come all the same!"

Violette said this with such heartfelt earnestness that Roncherolle felt the tears gather in his eyes. He pressed the girl's hand and replied in a cheerful tone:

"I will obey you, neighbor; come, Chicotin, my groom, come here."

"Here I am, bourgeois."

"Go to the druggist's on the corner of the boulevard, and ask for some syrup of Boubee. Will you remember that name?"

"I should say so; it isn't hard to remember. Syrup of Poupee."

"Boubee, you idiot! not Poupee."

"Oh! very good."

"Wait; I prefer to write it for you."

"On the whole, that will be better; my tongue might slip again."

"Here you are; and take that two-franc piece there--upon my table; I am inclined to believe that that will be enough."

"Let us hope so! a paltry syrup--that can't cost so much as that; for two francs you could get a lot of mola.s.ses.--I will go right away, bourgeois."

"Aren't you going to your stand, my little neighbor?" Roncherolle asked Violette, who was stooping in front of the fire, trying to make the two sticks burn by putting under them all the old papers that were lying about the room.

"In a minute, neighbor; I will wait until Chicotin comes back."

"And your love-affairs, my child, how do they come on? You are fully reconciled with your young lover now, I hope?"

"Yes, monsieur. Oh! Georget loves me dearly; he comes to see me every day at my booth, and I am very happy, except when he frightens me."

"What's that? your lover frightens you?"

"You will understand, monsieur; Georget has never forgotten the abominable remarks that that Monsieur Jericourt made about me, and the trap he led me into; but, monsieur, you don't know--Georget says that he will kill Monsieur Jericourt."

"He is right; he is a fine fellow; in his place, I would do the same."

"But I don't want him to fight; for, after all, monsieur, the man who is in the right doesn't always win; and if Georget were killed, I should be very unhappy."

"You are right; that boy must not take the risk; he is so young--eighteen, did you tell me?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"Then he probably doesn't know anything about the sword or the pistol?"

"Nothing at all; he would be killed instantly."

"Patience, my little neighbor. Corbleu! if only I could get well!--But I hear Chicotin, I believe."

The young messenger returned with a sheepish expression, holding the two-franc piece in his hand.

"Well, where is the syrup, Chicotin?" asked Roncherolle.

"The syrup is at the druggist's, monsieur."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that it's an outrage! Just fancy that a little bottle no bigger than my wrist costs twelve francs!"

"Twelve francs?"

"Yes, monsieur, syrup of Poupee twelve francs, no less; it wasn't any use for me to say: 'Put me up forty sous' worth in a little pomade box'; he laughed in my face and told me they didn't sell it at retail; he showed me a bottle, all sealed, with the price on it. Then I said: 'If the gout can only be cured at that price, only rich people can be cured!'--'Only rich people have the gout,' said the clerk. I say, bourgeois, that's nonsense, ain't it? For it seems to me that you're none too well fixed."

Violette nudged Chicotin, saying in an undertone:

"You ought to have said that the syrup wasn't ready, and I would have gone out and bought it and paid for it without letting Monsieur de Roncherolle know the price."

"He would have found it out all the same, mamzelle, for the price is pasted on the bottle; it wouldn't have been possible to deceive him, and how he would have sworn then!"

Roncherolle had dropped his head on the pillow, and said nothing more.

Chicotin handed him the two-franc piece, saying:

"Shall I buy anything else with this, bourgeois?"

"You may buy some wood, my boy, and make a fire; but not until evening; for my little neighbor comes to sit with me in the evening, and I don't want her to freeze in my room.--Now leave me, my children; I don't want anything more, and I am going to try to sleep."

Violette pressed the invalid's hand and went out, with a feeling of oppression at her heart; Chicotin followed her, muttering:

"Poor dear man, not to be able to buy what might cure him; it ain't very gay here; but never mind, I will come back soon and see if he wants something else that don't cost so much."

"And you won't spend his two francs, will you, Chicotin? you must get some wood in my room."

"Yes, mamzelle, but what shall I do with his money? I can't give it back to him."

"Keep it; it will serve to buy something else which may be dearer still; and you mustn't tell him, as you did to-day. To think of his being without a fire, in such cold weather, and when he is suffering so! for to-day I could see on his face the efforts he made to conceal his suffering; why, it makes me want to cry!"