Nobody's Girl Part 36

However as Virginie brought forward a cashmere dress trimmed with pa.s.s.e.m.e.nterie and jet, she thought fit to interfere.

"No, no, not that," she said. "That would be beyond the price. Show her that black challis dress with the little dots. The skirt will be a trifle too long and the waist too large, but it can easily be made to fit her, besides we have nothing else in black."

Here was a reason that dispensed with all others, but even though it was too large, Perrine found the skirt and waist that went with it very pretty, and the saleslady a.s.sured her that with a little alteration is would suit her beautifully, and of course she had to believe her.

The choice for the stockings and undergarments was easier because she wanted the least expensive, but when she stated that she only wanted to purchase two pairs of stockings and two chemises, Mlle. Virginie became just as disdainful as her employer, and it was as though she was conferring a favor that she condescended to try some shoes on Perrine, and the black straw hat which completed the wardrobe of this little simpleton.

Could anyone believe that a girl would be such an idiot! She had been given an order to buy what she wanted and she asked for two pairs of stockings and two chemises. And when Perrine asked for some handkerchiefs, which for a long time had been the object of her desires, this new purchase, which was limited to three handkerchiefs, did not help to change the shopkeeper's or the saleslady's contempt for her.

"She's nothing at all," they murmured.

"And now shall we send you these things?" asked Mme. Lachaise.

"No, thank you," said Perrine, "I will call this evening and fetch them when the alterations are made."

"Well, then, don't come before eight o'clock or after nine," she was told.

Perrine had a very good reason for not wis.h.i.+ng to have the things sent to her. She was not sure where she was going to sleep that night. Her little island was not to be thought of. Those who possess nothing can dispense with doors and locks, but when one has riches ... for despite the condescension of the shopkeeper and her a.s.sistant, these were riches to Perrine and needed to be guarded. So that night she would have to take a lodging and quite naturally she thought of going to Rosalie's grandmother. When she left Madame Lachaise's shop, she went on her way to Mother Francoise's to see if she could accommodate her and give her what she desired; that was a tiny little room that would not cost much.

As she reached the gate she met Rosalie coming out, walking quickly.

"You're going out?" cried Perrine.

"Yes, and you ... so you are free then?"

In a few hurried words they explained.

Rosalie, who was going on an important errand to Picquigny, could not return to her grandmother's at once, as she would have liked, so as to make the best arrangements that she could for Perrine; but as Perrine had nothing to do for that day, why shouldn't she go with her to Picquigny; and they would come back together; it would be a pleasure trip then.

They went off gaily, and Rosalie accomplished her errand quickly, then their pleasure trip commenced. They walked through the fields, chatting and laughing, picked flowers, then rested in the heat of the day under the shadows of the great trees. It was not until night that they arrived back in Maraucourt. Not until Rosalie reached her grandmother's gate did she realize what time it was.

"What will Aunt Zen.o.bie say?" she said half afraid.

"Oh well...." began Perrine.

"Oh well, I don't care," said Rosalie defiantly, "I've enjoyed myself ... and you?"

"Well, if you who have people to talk to every day have enjoyed yourself, how much more have I who never have anybody to talk to," said Perrine ruefully.

"I've had a lovely time," she sighed.

"Well, then we don't care what anybody says," said Rosalie bravely.

Fortunately, Aunt Zen.o.bie was busy waiting on the boarders, so the arrangements for the room was made with Mother Francoise, who did not drive too hard a bargain and that was done quickly and promptly. Fifty francs a month for two meals a day; twelve francs for a little room decorated with a little mirror, a window, and a dressing table.

At eight o'clock Perrine dined alone in the general dining room, a table napkin on her lap. At eight-thirty she went to Madame Lachaise's establishment to fetch her dress and other things which were quite ready for her. At nine o'clock, in her tiny room, the door of which she locked, she went to bed, a little worried, a little excited, a little hesitating, but, in her heart of hearts full of hope.

Now we should see.

What she did see the next morning when she was called into M. Vulfran's office after he had given his orders to his princ.i.p.al employes, was such a severe expression on his face that she was thoroughly disconcerted; although the eyes that turned towards her as she entered his room were devoid of look, she could not mistake the expression on this face that she had studied so much.

Certainly it was not the kind look of a benefactor, but quite the reverse: it was an expression of displeasure and anger that she saw.

What had she done wrong that he should be angry; with her?

She put this question to herself but she could find no reply to it; perhaps she had spent too much at Madame Lachaise's and her employer had judged her character from these purchases. And in her selection she had tried to be so modest and economical. What should she have bought then?

or rather what should she not have bought?

But she had no more time to wonder, for her employer was speaking to her in a severe tone:

"Why did you not tell me the truth?" he said.

"In what have I not told the truth?" she asked in a frightened voice.

"In regard to your conduct since you came to this village."

"But I a.s.sure you, Monsieur, I have told you the truth."

"You told me that you lodged at Mother Francoise's house. And when you left there where did you go? I may as well tell you that yesterday Zen.o.bie, that is Francoise's daughter, was asked to give some information, some references of you, and she said that you only spent one night in her mother's house, then you disappeared, and no one knew what you did from that night until now."

Perrine had listened to the commencement of this cross examination in afright, but as Monsieur Vulfran went on she grew braver.

"There is someone who knows what I did after I left the room I used at Mother Francoise's," she said quietly.

"Who?"

"Rosalie, her granddaughter, knows. She will tell you that what I am now going to tell you, sir, is the truth. That is, if you think my doings are worth knowing about."

"The position that you are to hold in my service demands that I know what you are," said Monsieur Vulfran.

"Well, Monsieur, I will tell you," said little Perrine. "When you know you can send for Rosalie and question her without me seeing her, and then you will have the proof that I have not deceived you."

"Yes, that can be done," he said in a softened voice, "now go on...."

She told her story, dwelling on the horror of that night in that miserable room, her disgust, how she was almost suffocated, and how she crept outside at the break of dawn too sick to stay in that terrible garret one moment longer.

"Cannot you bear what the other girls could?" asked her employer.

"The others perhaps have not lived in the open air as I have," said Perrine, her beautiful eyes fixed on her grandfather's face. "I a.s.sure you I am not hard to please. We were so poor that we endured great misery. But I could not stay in that room. I should have died, and I don't think it was wrong of me to try to escape death. I could not live if I had to sleep there."

"Why! can that room be so unhealthy, so unwholesome as that?" mused Monsieur Vulfran.

"Oh, sir," cried Perrine, "if you could see it you would never permit your work girls to live there, never, never."

"Go on with your story," he said abruptly.

She told him how she had discovered the tiny island and how the idea had come to her to take possession of the cabin.

"You were not afraid?" he asked.