Part 35 (1/2)

”Listen to me, then,” said the poet. ”I made a proposal to you today through Mademoiselle Amelie. Did she transmit it to you?”

”Yes,” said Mimi, ”but in terms which, even after what has happened, I could not credit. No, Rodolphe, I could not believe that, despite all that you might have to reproach me with, you thought me so worthless as to accept such a bargain.”

”You did not understand me, or the message has been badly conveyed to you. My offer holds good,” said Rodolphe. ”It is nine o'clock. You still have three hours for reflection. The door will be unlocked until midnight. Good night. Farewell, or--till we meet again.”

”Farewell, then,” said Mimi, in trembling tones.

And they separated. Rodolphe went home and threw himself, without undressing, upon his bed. At half past eleven, Mademoiselle Mimi entered his room.

”I have come to ask your hospitality,” said she. ”Amelie's lover has stayed with her, and I cannot get in.”

They talked together until three in the morning--an explanatory conversation which grew gradually more familiar.

At four o'clock their candle went out. Rodolphe wanted to light another.

”No,” said Mimi, ”it is not worth the trouble. It is quite time to go to bed.”

Five minutes later her pretty brown curly head had once more resumed its place on the pillow, and in a voice full of affection she invited Rodolphe's lips to feast on her little white hand with their blue veins, the pearly pallor of which vied with the whiteness of the sheets.

Rodolphe did not light the candle.

In the morning Rodolphe got up first, and pointing out several packages to Mimi, said to her, very gently, ”There is what belongs to you. You can take it away. I keep my word.”

”Oh!” said Mimi. ”I am very tired, you see, and I cannot carry all these heavy parcels away at once. I would rather call again.”

And when she was dressed she only took a collar and a pair of cuffs.

”I will take away the rest by degrees,” she added, smiling.

”Come,” said Rodolphe, ”take away all or take away none, and let there be an end of it.”

”Let it, on the contrary, begin again, and, above all, let it last,”

said Mimi, kissing Rodolphe.

After breakfasting together they started off for a day in the country.

Crossing the Luxembourg gardens Rodolphe met a great poet who had always received him with charming kindness. Out of respect for the conventionalities Rodolphe was about to pretend not to see him but the poet did not give him time, and pa.s.sing by him greeted him with a friendly gesture and his companion with a smile.

”Who is that gentleman?” asked Mimi.

Rodolphe answered her by mentioning a name which made her blush with pleasure and pride.

”Oh!” said Rodolphe. ”Our meeting with the poet who has sung of love so well is a good omen, and will bring luck to our reconciliation.”

”I do love you,” said Mimi, squeezing his hand, although they were in the midst of the crowd.

”Alas!” thought Rodolphe. ”Which is better; to allow oneself always to be deceived through believing, or never to believe for fear of always being deceived?”

CHAPTER XV