Part 27 (2/2)
”To relieve Raymond, who's doing sentry duty there.”
”Let him stay there; I've no desire to be bored any more with his love; I have had enough of it. Everything has turned out as I wanted; but as such adventures never happen twice, I a.s.sure you that he will never inveigle me into a private dining room again.”
”Poor Raymond! This _partie fine_ will have been very profitable to him, won't it? But here's the Chateau d'Eau; someone is waiting for me here, and I must leave you.”
”What! already?”
”Our play is ended, my dear girl; we can be of no further a.s.sistance to each other; let us not postpone our separation until ennui succeeds pleasure, and the fumes of the champagne have entirely vanished; we shall retain a pleasant memory of this meeting, at all events.”
”Adieu, then, my dear Eugene! may we enjoy ourselves as much when we next meet!”
Agathe went her way, and I started to make the circuit of the Chateau d'Eau.
XVI
THE ROSE WITHOUT THORNS
Six times I had walked around the pond. From time to time I halted in front of the lions, which I contemplated from every point of view; then, for variety's sake, I listened to the plash of the water as it fell into the pa.s.sage through which it flows back to the ca.n.a.ls. All this was most entertaining, no doubt, and still I began to weary of it. The sentinel watched me closely; doubtless he began to look upon me as a suspicious character.
It grew dark, and I was on the point of going away, when I saw coming toward me a woman in a little cap. Was it she at last? I dared not flatter myself that it was; I had been mistaken so many times, for my eyesight is not very good; but she continued to approach me. Yes, it was really she. Caroline accosted me with a smiling face; she was not in her best clothes; but there was a certain daintiness in her costume: her cap was neatly tied, and her hair had been in curl papers all day, I would have sworn; a woman does not take so much pains for a man to whom she does not intend to listen. The girl seemed to me a sly minx enough! But although the champagne had made me even more reckless than usual, I was not inclined to offer my arm to a grisette, in a cap, within the walls of Paris.
”I was beginning to lose all hope of seeing you,” I said.
”Why? it's only a quarter past eight, and I can't get away from my shop any earlier.”
”Let us go for a stroll in the fields.”
”In the fields? oh, no! it's too late. I can't be out later than nine; my aunt would scold me.”
”That's a very tiresome aunt of yours. Let us go in somewhere.”
”No, I don't want to. Oh! if I should be seen with you!”
I did not choose to tell her that I was no more anxious than she to exhibit myself on the boulevard with her, for, after all, there were some social conventions which I did not care to defy. She wore an ap.r.o.n and a cap, and that fact annoyed me greatly. Certainly I think no more of a milliner than of a flowermaker, but Agathe was dressed as a lady, and I could afford to offer her my arm; a bonnet and shawl make a vast difference in a woman; and that is one of the petty foibles to which a young man has to submit when he goes into society, even though he despise them. If Nicette had met me at noon instead of at midnight, I certainly should not have escorted her to Madame Jerome's on foot.
”Suppose we walk a little on Rue des Marais,” said Caroline; ”I am not so much afraid of being seen there.”
”Very well.”
That suggestion was most welcome to me. We went down the stairs, took the Pa.s.sage du Wauxhall, and in a moment we were on Rue des Marais, a street most favorable for sentimental promenades. Mademoiselle Caroline seemed to know the best places.
The subject of our conversation may be divined: between two lovers, between a gallant and a coquette, between a pretty woman and a comely youth, between a young man and a grisette, the same subject is always discussed; they talk of love and nothing else. For centuries, love has formed the staple subject of conversation between man and woman; many observations must have been made thereupon, and still the theme is not exhausted. To be sure, everyone treats it in his own way, but the end in view is always the same, is it not?
The fumes of the champagne led me to discuss the subject rather cavalierly; Mademoiselle Caroline, who probably had not dined so sumptuously as I had, stood on her dignity. I could obtain nothing from her; she kept her aunt constantly to the fore, complaining of the severity with which she was treated; but as she had no means of providing for herself, she must needs submit to necessity.
I fancied that I could divine the girl's ambition; she loved liberty, referred with a sigh to the matter of bonnets and dresses, and seemed to be as sick of her aunt as of her shop. I afforded her a glimpse of a possible means of becoming free and happy; I dropped a word or two concerning a nicely furnished little room of which she would be mistress, where she could work as she chose, where, in short, everything would be subject to her wishes. It was all very alluring, and Mademoiselle Caroline listened very attentively; she did not reply in words, but she sighed and looked down. I talked of dresses, theatres, pleasure parties; she looked at me with a smile, and allowed me to steal a very affectionate kiss. I had found her weak side: the girl was disgusted with her present life; she longed to be her own mistress; in a word, she wanted to have a chamber of her own. Those little grisettes are all alike; that is what they all aspire to; as if when they once had lodgings of their own their fortunes were made. I saw that the flowermaker cherished that aspiration, and that until it was fulfilled she would accord me no favors. That denoted, not love exactly, but foresight and shrewdness. What should I do? Faith! one more foolish thing. Caroline was fascinating; perhaps grat.i.tude would attach her to me. Grat.i.tude, because I desired to seduce her! you will say. I agree that it is hardly the fitting word, but observe that I gave her an opportunity to reflect at leisure.
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