Part 23 (2/2)

This one who sent you this letter is a man of color--”

”Oh!” exclaimed Aurora, with a sudden malicious sparkle.

”If you will entrust this paper to me,” said Honore, quietly, ”I will see him and do now engage that you shall have no further trouble about it. Of course, I do not mean that I will pay it, myself; I dare not offer to take such a liberty.”

Then he felt that a warm impulse had carried him a step too far.

Aurora rose up with a refusal as firm as it was silent. She neither smiled nor scintillated now, but wore an expression of amiable practicality as she presently said, receiving back the rent-notice as she spoke:

”I thank you, sir, but it might seem strange to him to find his notice in the hands of a person who can claim no interest in the matter. I shall have to attend to it myself.”

”Ah! little enchantress,” thought her grave-faced listener, as he gave attention, ”this, after all--ball and all--is the mood in which you look your very, very best”--a fact which n.o.body knew better than the enchantress herself.

He walked beside her toward the open door leading back into the counting-room, and the dozen or more clerks, who, each by some ingenuity of his own, managed to secure a glimpse of them, could not fail to feel that they had never before seen quite so fair a couple. But she dropped her veil, bowed M. Grandissime a polite ”No farther,” and pa.s.sed out.

M. Grandissime walked once up and down his private office, gave the door a soft push with his foot and lighted a cigar.

The clerk who had before acted as usher came in and handed him a slip of paper with a name written on it. M. Grandissime folded it twice, gazed out the window, and finally nodded. The clerk disappeared, and Joseph Frowenfeld paused an instant in the door and then advanced, with a buoyant good-morning.

”Good-morning,” responded M. Grandissime.

He smiled and extended his hand, yet there was a mechanical and preoccupied air that was not what Joseph felt justified in expecting.

”How can I serve you, Mr. Frhowenfeld?” asked the merchant, glancing through into the counting-room. His coldness was almost all in Joseph's imagination, but to the apothecary it seemed such that he was nearly induced to walk away without answering. However, he replied:

”A young man whom I have employed refers to you to recommend him.”

”Yes, sir? Prhay, who is that?”

”Your cousin, I believe, Mr. Raoul Innerarity.”

M. Grandissime gave a low, short laugh, and took two steps toward his desk.

”Rhaoul? Oh yes, I rhecommend Rhaoul to you. As an a.s.sistant in yo'

sto'?--the best man you could find.”

”Thank you, sir,” said Joseph, coldly. ”Good-morning!” he added turning to go.

”Mr. Frhowenfeld,” said the other, ”do you evva rhide?”

”I used to ride,” replied the apothecary, turning, hat in hand, and wondering what such a question could mean.

”If I send a saddle-hoss to yo' do' on day aftah to-morrhow evening at fo' o'clock, will you rhide out with me for-h about a hour-h and a half--just for a little pleasu'e?”

Joseph was yet more astonished than before. He hesitated, accepted the invitation, and once more said good-morning.

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