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Read Ebook: Frédérique vol. 2 by Kock Paul De
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Ebook has 3172 lines and 92556 words, and 64 pages
al old hag stopped, looked at me, and began to laugh. When she had laughed her fill, she said:
"It's no use for you to call and yell, as she ain't here; you might just as well sing!"
"She is not here? You should have told me that at once, madame."
"In that case, madame, will you be kind enough to tell me where I can find mademoiselle your niece? I wanted to see her about mending a shawl--at Madame Berlingot's."
"Rosette told me, the last time I saw her: 'I'm going to work at Aunt Piquette's, Rue aux Ours, No. 35.'--Well, have I got any embers, I wonder? Let's look and see!"
"Exceedingly obliged, madame."
That old woman set my nerves on edge! Thank God! I was clear of her at last! I made all haste to Aunt Piquette's, Rue aux Ours.
I rang at Madame Piquette's door. A woman appeared who was fully sixty years of age, but who wore a cap overladen with flowers and pink ribbons. Where will not coquetry build its nest?
"Madame Piquette?"
"That's me, monsieur; take the trouble to come in."
And she made a formal reverence, as she stood aside to let me pass.
"I certainly shall not receive you on the landing, monsieur; please walk in."
"You will offend me by staying out here, monsieur."
I had to give way. I went in, hoping to remain in the first room; but Madame Piquette pushed me toward a door at the farther end, making another reverence. I concluded to enter the second room, which with the first seemed to form the whole suite. And no Rosette! Could it be that I had made another fruitless journey?
"Pray be good enough to sit down, monsieur."
"You will mortify me by standing, monsieur."
I had no desire to mortify Madame Piquette, but I was inclined to regret little Aunt Riflot at that moment. At last we were both seated. Madame Piquette put a small rug under my feet. Did she think that I had come to pass the day with her? She glanced in the mirror, and rearranged her cap strings on her breast. That pantomime alarmed me; I looked about in dismay; but for some unknown reason, I did not let my eyes rest on Madame Piquette, who had partly unfastened her neckerchief. Mon Dieu! what was the woman thinking of? At last, she finished her manoeuvring, and I hastened to say, without stopping for breath:
"I have come from Madame Berlingot's finishing shop on Rue Pinon, to ask Mademoiselle Rosette to mend a cashmere shawl."
Madame Piquette courtesied again; I glanced in the mirror and thought that she was preparing to remove her neckerchief. Great heaven! what was I about to see?
But, no; I had taken fright without cause; she rearranged her pink ribbons about her neck, and replied:
"It is with the deepest regret, monsieur, that I find myself compelled to inform you that Rosette is not here. I believe that she is at her Aunt Dumarteau's at this moment."
"Will you kindly give me Madame Dumarteau's address?"
"It's a long way, monsieur, a long way from here!"
"I have a cab, madame."
"In that case, monsieur, take the trouble to go to Rue Verte, Faubourg Saint-Honor?, No. 12."
"Exceedingly obliged, madame!"
I listened to no more; I rose, left the room, and went down the stairs by leaps and bounds; I fancied that I could still see Madame Piquette baring her neck before me.
"Rue Verte, No. 12," I said to my cabman.--Oh! Rosette, what a dance you were leading me! But, no matter! As I had begun, I would persevere to the end.
"Madame Dumarteau?" I said to the concierge.
"Sixth floor, door at the left."
Sixth floor! I would have bet on it! And this was only the fourth aunt! What fate was in store for me?
I knocked at Madame Dumarteau's door, as she had no bell. A woman of some fifty years, with a morose face, half opened the door, and asked in a hoarse voice:
"What do you want?"
"Madame Dumarteau."
"That's me! Well?"
"Mamzelle Rosette ain't here."
"Where is she, then?"
"At her Aunt Lumignon's, Rue du Petit-Muse, Quartier Saint-Antoine."
"Very good! What number, please?"
But the lady had already closed her door in my face. Should I knock again, to find out the number? No; Rue du Petit-Muse was short, I knew, and I could inquire. My conversation with Madame Dumarteau was not long; she had not an amiable look, but I preferred her ill humor to Madame Piquette's coquetries. At all events, I lost no time there.
I started for Rue du Petit-Muse. If I had not known my Paris, Mademoiselle Rosette could have undertaken to instruct me. I told the cabman to stop at the corner of Rue Saint-Antoine, and went into one of the first houses, where I said to the concierge:
"Madame Lumignon?"
"This is the place, monsieur."
Faith! I was in luck. The next step was to inquire which floor; I was afraid that I could guess beforehand: I should surely be directed to the seventh.
"Which floor, concierge?"
"At the rear of the courtyard, to the left, ground floor."
Ah! I breathed again! The aunts were coming down in the world.
Madame Lumignon was a little hunchback with a bright eye and a shrill voice, like most hunchbacks. As soon as I mentioned her niece's name, she smiled.
"Ah! you want Rosette," she said; "for Madame Berlingot, I suppose? Yes, yes, I'm used to that; it's always the same song! If I was evil-minded, I might suspect something! But I wash my hands of her. In the first place, Rosette don't pay any attention to us; she's such a wilful creature! So much the worse for her! I've warned her!"
"But, madame, she is wanted to mend a cashmere shawl."
"I know! I know! A fine thing, that cashmere shawl is!"
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