San-Cravate; or, The Messengers; Little Streams Part 126

"She hardly ever goes out, so the concierge said," he thought. "Has she been sick? Am I the cause of it? Oh! this infernal jealousy! How will she receive me? No matter! I will see her, and die at her feet if she doesn't forgive me."

He rang with a trembling hand; the maid opened the door, and uttered a cry of joy when she saw who it was. Servants almost always divine their mistress's secret thoughts, and this one was very sure that Adhemar's return would bring back joy and happiness to the house, which had been very gloomy since he had ceased to come.

"Ask Madame Dermont if she will see me," said Adhemar.

The servant, with a beaming face, hurried away to her mistress, and returned almost immediately to say that he might go in. Adhemar did not wait for the words to be repeated. He found Nathalie holding her embroidery frame in her hand, but not working. A glance sufficed to show him that she was pale and changed, and that her features wore an expression of profound melancholy. Adhemar could contain himself no longer; he rushed forward and threw himself at Nathalie's feet; he seized her hands and pressed them in his own, crying:

"Mercy! forgive me! if you could only know how I have reproached myself!

but I will not offend again, I swear! I am cured. Oh! I have been so unhappy ever since I saw you last!"

"And what about me, monsieur? Do you think that I have not been unhappy?

Why didn't you come back sooner? What prevented you?"

"Because--I didn't know---- Look you, Nathalie--I will not lie to you--to-day I met Lucien, and I learned from him that you had a brother-in-law who smoked----"

"And then you understood that I had no other intrigue. Bad boy! if you hadn't left me so abruptly, I would have told you the whole story; but when jealousy takes possession of you, it is impossible to make you listen to reason."

"Hereafter, my confidence in you will be absolute. You love me--you forgive me once more, do you not?"

"Yes, but this is the last time; for such scenes are too painful to me."

At that moment they heard the servant laughing uproariously. Nathalie rang for her and asked her the reason of that outburst of merriment.

"Oh! madame, hasn't monsieur told you what he did to your scamp of a brother-in-law? The concierge just told me. Monsieur took him by the throat and turned him out of the house, and promised to cut him in pieces if he ever dared to come to see you again!"

"Is this true, Adhemar?"

"Yes; did I do wrong?"

"Oh! far from it; you have done me a very great service. It seems that I am destined to be saved by you from all sorts of dangers! You see, monsieur, that you did wrong to desert me!"

Adhemar's only reply was to cover with kisses the hand she abandoned to him; and the maid returned exultantly to the kitchen, crying:

"What joy! The man with the quid of tobacco won't come here again!"

XVI

A BAIGNOIRE

After the evening when young Calle played bezique until midnight with Madame Dubotte, the clinging eleonore said to her husband:

"Do you know, monsieur, that it was very wrong of you to leave me to pa.s.s the evening alone with a young man? and that it shows the greatest indifference on your part toward your wife? for, if I didn't love you as I do, I might revenge myself for your neglect. You expose me to the risk of receiving declarations of love!"

"My dear love, you don't look at things from the right standpoint,"

Philemon replied, caressing his mutton-chop whiskers, which threatened to encroach upon his cheeks. "Tell me, did Calle make a declaration?"

"Oh, no!"

"You see! Deuce take it! I know with whom I leave you: that young man is as virtuous as Voltaire's _Candide_. Do you know _Candide_?"

"No, my dear."

"I'll get it for you; for you're a little behindhand in literary matters, and I propose to train you in every way. I don't choose to have people say of my wife that she's a ninny. I won't have that, do you hear? and you must govern yourself accordingly."

"I will try, my dear."

"To return to Calle: he is more or less of a simpleton. He doesn't dare to look a woman in the face; indeed, he hardly dares to speak to one. So you see that I can safely leave you with him. If he should ever become any woman's lover, she would have to make the first overtures!"

"Do you think so, my dear?"

"I am sure of it; he would never dare to declare himself, unless he got a little help. And so, my dear love, as I know your virtue and your affection for me, I am entirely easy in my mind. I would intrust you to Calle, my dear, as I would to a keeper of the seraglio. Do you know what a keeper of the seraglio is, in Turkey?"

"No, my dear."

"Well, he's a eunuch."

"What in the world is a eunuch?"

"Why, don't you know that? I'll tell you some night--when it rains.

Evidently, I have a great many things to teach you."

A few days later, Philemon said to his wife one morning:

"My dear love, I am going to make you very happy!--I know how much you like the theatre, especially the Gymnase; well, I have taken a box for you there, for to-night."

"Oh! what fun! at the Gymnase! and a box! How lovely of you, dear! Tell me what time we must start, so that I can be ready and not make you impatient."

"Oh! the play doesn't begin till half-past seven--be ready at quarter-past, that will be early enough; he won't call for you before then."

"What did you say? call for me? Am I not to go with you?"

"No; I will join you later; I have to go to an evening party given by my chief. I can't miss that, you understand. When a man wants promotion, he must always stand well with those above him."

"But, in that case, as you knew you were going somewhere else, you shouldn't have got a box for this evening."

"Why not, pray? If I am enjoying myself in one place, is it any more than fair that you should enjoy yourself, too?"

"But you used always to take me with you to your chief's parties."

"Yes, to the dancing parties and the musicales. But this is to be a--serious party; we shall talk politics and discuss the best method of dealing with the maturing obligations of a new Oriental railway; and you can see for yourself that women would be bored to death to sit and listen to all that. That's why there are to be no women."

"With whom do you propose to send me to the play, then?"

"Oh! don't worry about that; I have sent word to Calle! I saw him yesterday, and asked him if he would like to take you to the theatre to-night. He jumped for joy; he adores the theatre."