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"I will make a careful toilet, but I won't go to see my young friend too early; I must let her wish for my coming. After breakfast I will go to my window, and I am sure that Georgette will beckon me to come to her.
Yes, that is the more adroit way."
Monsieur de Mardeille breakfasted slowly; he enjoyed his coffee as, in antic.i.p.ation, he enjoyed his coming triumph; at last, after glancing over several newspapers, he went to one of the windows looking on the courtyard, thinking that he had given her time enough to wish for his coming and that he would do well to show himself.
On opening his window he looked at once toward his little neighbor's, and saw a young man seated beside Georgette, holding both her hands and gazing at her most affectionately. Thereupon our gallant frowned, compressed his lips, and stared in dismay.
"Sapristi!" he exclaimed; "with a young man! She's with a young man, and she pretends to receive visits from no man but me! And this is her grat.i.tude for my brooch! Ah! we'll see about this! I won't allow myself to be fooled in this way! I must find out who this young man is who holds both her hands, when I can hardly induce her to let me hold one."
The man whom he had discovered in his neighbor's apartment was young Colinet, whom we already know. His dress was almost exactly the same as he had worn on the occasion of his first visit to Georgette, except that his broadcloth trousers were replaced by linen ones, and that he carried a light switch instead of his stout stick. A much greater change had taken place on his face, however; in the intervening three months, his innocent, shy air had given place to one more sedate and thoughtful; it was still frank and open, but the artless expression had disappeared.
"Oh! how glad I am to see you, Mamzelle Georgette!" said Colinet, taking the girl's hands.
"And I to see you, Colinet! It makes me very happy, I can tell you! And you say that everybody at home is well--my father and mother and sisters?"
"Yes, mamzelle, I left them all in good health; and here's a letter that Mamzelle Suzanne, your second sister, gave me for you."
"Oh! give it to me, give it to me quick, Colinet!"
Georgette eagerly seized the letter that the young man had brought her; she broke the seal and read it to herself inaudibly; the expression of her face betrayed her deep interest in its contents. While Georgette was reading, Colinet looked about, apparently making an inspection of the room.
"It's very nice here," he muttered; "much finer than it was in the other place."
Having finished reading the letter, Georgette put it in her bosom, then smiled anew at Colinet, who said:
"Will that letter bring you back to the province?"
"Not yet, Colinet."
"Do you still enjoy yourself more in Paris?"
"It is not that, my friend; but I came here for a certain purpose; and I shall not leave Paris until I have finished what I have begun."
"Ah! you're doing some work here, are you?"
"Yes, my friend."
"And you won't tell me what it is? Perhaps I could help you."
"No, you couldn't help me; and it's better that I shouldn't tell you now what I am trying to do; but you shall know some day; yes, I promise you that some day you shall know everything; and you won't blame me, Colinet; on the contrary, I am sure that you will approve of what I have done."
"Oh! Mamzelle Georgette, I shan't blame you; for I know you, I do, and I know that you ain't capable of doing anything wrong. But, dear me! your head's a little--what do they call it down home?--a little solid; and when you've made up your mind to do something, why, you've got to do it."
"Mayn't one have a strong will, as long as it doesn't lead one to do wrong?"
"Yes, yes! Oh! you can have anything; but you used to _thou_ me, and now I'm sorry to find that you've stopped doing it."
Georgette blushed as she replied:
"That is true, Colinet; but it ought not to hurt your feelings--far from it--for I don't like you any the less on that account. But it seems to me that I ought not to speak to you so familiarly as I used to when we were children."
"If you like me just as much, I ought not to complain; but I love you more and more every day, Georgette."
"Oh! so much the better! that's just what I want! Above all things, don't you ever change; for I count on your love, Colinet!"
"Oh! Mamzelle Georgette, can a man ever change when he loves you?"
"Kiss me, Colinet."
"With all my heart!"
The opposite neighbor did not see the kiss, because all this had taken place before he went to the window.
"What about that Monsieur Dupont I saw in your room so often when I was here before?" queried Colinet; "do you still see him?"
"No, Colinet, I don't see Monsieur Dupont any more."
The young man smiled. He seemed delighted to hear that; but his brow grew dark when Georgette added:
"No, I never see him now, but I do see another man."
"Ah! you have made the acquaintance of another man?"
"Yes, a very stylish gentleman who lives in this house; he comes to see me very often."
"Very often?"
"You'll probably see him very soon. Then, as I shall tell him, which is perfectly true, that you are an old playfellow of mine, don't forget that I am supposed to be a Norman."
"A Norman! But that isn't true; you are from Toul, in Lorraine."
"I know that very well, Colinet; but that is just what this gentleman mustn't find out; and, above all things, don't mention my parents' name before him--remember that."
"Why on earth do you make all this mystery with this man? You haven't ever done anything wrong, I know; so why do you conceal your family name, mamzelle?"
"You told me that you had confidence in me, Colinet."
"To be sure--I have it still."
"In that case, my friend, don't ask me questions that I can't answer now. I have told you that it will all be explained some day, and that ought to be enough for you."
"That's true, mamzelle; I was wrong to ask you questions; I won't say any more about it.--So you're a Norman, are you?"
"Yes; from a little village near Rouen."
"What's the name of the village?"
"The name? I haven't an idea; what difference does it make? any name will do. That man doesn't know all the suburbs of Rouen. Call it Belair--there are Belairs in every province."
"All right; and I'm a Norman, too, I suppose?"