The Milkmaid of Montfermeil Part 25

"Very well, mademoiselle; but I have an idea that it isn't monsieur; I didn't recognize his ring."

Having closed the door of the salon, Bertrand opened the one leading to the hall; whereupon, instead of Auguste, he saw the pretty neighbor of the third floor to whom he had restored the poodle.

The pretty neighbor was a blonde, with blue eyes and a pink complexion; her voice was low and sweet, her manners and her bearing savored of affectation; but she was pretty, and her natural charms won forgiveness for those which she tried to impart to herself.

"Isn't my little Lozor in your rooms, Monsieur Bertrand?" asked the young blonde in an undertone, with a furtive glance about the apartment.

"I have not had the honor to see him, madame," replied Bertrand, still holding the door only partly open; which fact did not prevent the neighbor from stepping farther into the room.

"That is strange; he went out this morning; my maid is at market, and I hoped to find him here."

"If the deserter appears, madame, I shall have the pleasure of bringing him back to you at once."

"Poor Lozor! I am really anxious about him."

And the neighbor, advancing step by step, found herself in the centre of the reception room, while Bertrand still held the door ajar, hoping thus to induce her to go away.

"Monsieur Dalville went out last night in full dress, didn't he, Monsieur Bertrand?"

"Yes, madame."

"I happened to be at my window and I saw him. I would have liked to say a word to him, to ask him for a book that he promised to let me have to-day. But he went away so fast! If it wasn't so early, I would ask him to be kind enough to give it to me now. But that would disturb him perhaps?"

The neighbor seemed to await a reply, but Bertrand kept silent and contented himself with swinging the door back and forth.

"Is Monsieur Dalville still in bed?" inquired the pretty blonde at last, bestowing upon the ex-corporal a glance as tender as her voice was sweet. He was about to reply when the door of the small salon was abruptly thrown open, and disclosed Virginie, who came forward with an air of deliberation, saying:

"Well! is it coming off to-day, Bertrand? Are we playing hide-and-seek?"

When Virginie appeared, Bertrand closed the hall door and sat down, muttering between his teeth:

"Fight it out; it's none of my business."

At sight of Mademoiselle Virginie, the neighbor turned a little pinker than she was, and her eyes lost their usual soft expression. Virginie, for her part, scrutinized the neighbor from top to toe, contracting her dark eyebrows, and allowing a scornful smile to play about her lips.

Bertrand alone seemed unmoved; and while the two ladies eyed each other from head to foot, he calmly swallowed a gla.s.s of wine, to wash down his Roquefort.

"You didn't tell me, Monsieur Bertrand, that Monsieur Dalville had company," said the neighbor at last, in a voice which she strove to make as soft as usual, but in which one could detect a note of something resembling anger. "If I had known, I certainly would not have ventured to disturb him."

"Does madame want to see Auguste, Bertrand?" inquired Virginie carelessly, smiling with a sly expression.

The familiar manner in which the pretty brunette referred to her neighbor seemed to confound Madame Saint-Edmond, who did what she could to conceal her agitation, saying:

"Yes, madame, I wish to see Monsieur Dalville."

"If it is anything that someone else can say to Auguste, I will undertake to do so, madame."

"You are too kind, madame, but I wish to speak to Monsieur Dalville in person."

"Ah! I understand. Auguste is already acquainted with madame, I presume?"

"Yes, madame, I have the honor of Monsieur Dalville's acquaintance."

"As Auguste tells me all his business, I might be able to answer madame, if she cared to explain the purpose of her call."

"Am I to understand that madame is now commissioned to receive the persons who may call on Monsieur Dalville?"

"That may be, madame."

"Monsieur Bertrand, you ought to have told me--to have spared me--But I absolutely insist on speaking to Monsieur Dalville. Let him know that I have just a word to say to him. Then I will leave him at peace with madame."

"If I had had a chance to answer sooner, madame, I'd have told you before this that my lieutenant hasn't come home from the ball yet; that's why madame was waiting in the small salon."

"Very well! I am going to wait for him too," said the neighbor, whose voice was no longer of the most honeyed kind; and as she pa.s.sed Bertrand on her way to the salon, she whispered to him:

"I don't know who this woman is, but she's very bad style!"

Virginie stayed behind in the reception room a moment, to say to Bertrand:

"Who's that little jackdaw? Don't lie to me, my little Bertrand, or I'll make a row."

"She's a lady who lives in the house."

"Aha! lives in the house, does she? That's very convenient! She looks like a regular s.l.u.t! Has Auguste known her long?"

"Why, no; about six weeks."

"Does he love her?"

"How do you expect me to know that? Do you suppose I ask my lieutenant: 'Do you love So-and-So, or Such-a-One?'"

"All right! you're a villain. I can only say that Auguste shows poor taste! She's a homely creature, that woman; she has red rims about her eyes, just like a rabbit's, and she has an ugly mouth, hasn't she, Bertrand?"

"Why, I don't think so."

"As if you knew anything about it! I tell you that she's a horror, with her princess's airs! Ah! if she expects to impose on me, she's very much mistaken. The sinner, to insist on speaking to Auguste in private! Just to tease her, I'm going to eat some more pie, even if I die of indigestion."

Virginie returned to the salon, resumed her seat on the couch and attacked the breakfast once more. The neighbor seated herself on a chair at the other end of the room, and while making a pretence of looking out into the street, watched Virginie's every movement from the corner of her eye. Bertrand meanwhile remained in the outer room, leaving the ladies to adjust matters as they chose. As she ate, Virginie hummed s.n.a.t.c.hes of comic opera airs; Madame Saint-Edmond did not make a sound.

This situation lasted for some time. At last Virginie, beginning to lose patience, called Bertrand and said to him:

"Your pie isn't at all nice; the last time I breakfasted with Auguste, we had a much better one."

Bertrand simply removed the scanty remains of the pie, saying to himself:

"I'd have sworn that she found it good!"

"Bertrand," said Virginie, after a moment, "will you give me a little water and some sugar, please? It will do me a lot of good."

"She must need it," said the neighbor to herself, with a sarcastic smile.