Read Ebook: The White House (Novels of Paul de Kock Volume XII) by Kock Paul De
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Ebook has 4030 lines and 148148 words, and 81 pages
"I don't say that I wish to be adored precisely; but I desire to find that sympathy--that sweet unreserve--that--Oh! you are laughing! You don't believe in true love!"
"I? on the contrary, I believe in whatever you choose; and the proof of it is that I really believe myself to be in love with all the pretty women I meet--eh, Edouard?--Oh! but we mustn't mention women to him now."
"What's that? has he had a fall with them too?" said Robineau, chuckling as if well pleased with his jest.
"Aha! so she was a sempstress?--And I'll be bound that you denied her nothing; for you are very open-handed. And then she planted you for some wretched Englishman who promised her a carriage. That is the reward of wasting one's substance on a woman!"
"On whom would you have us waste it, pray, Robineau? So far as I am concerned, women have often deceived me; but I bear them no ill-will. For, after all, a woman, when she throws us over, leaves us at liberty to take another; whereas we often don't know how to rid ourselves of one who is faithful."
"That is the reasoning of a jilt!" said Edouard. "Ah! my dear Alfred, you will always be lucky in love, for you will never love!"
"That is so," said Robineau; "he cares nothing for sentiment, he is all for pleasure; and when one is in his position, rich, of noble birth and an only son, with a father who lets him do whatever he pleases, there is no lack of pleasure. For my part, messieurs, I know how to restrict myself; and then, as I told you, I have simple tastes--I care neither for luxury, nor for honors.--What do I need, to be happy?--What I have: a good place--a little fatiguing, to be sure, but I am fond of work--and pending the time when I shall marry, a pretty, emotional, loving mistress, who doesn't cost me a sou, and on whose fidelity I can rely; for I am horribly jealous."
"And where do you find such a treasure, Robineau?"
"They are easily found; to be sure, I do not apply to grisettes or working-girls.--But I beg pardon, messieurs; while chatting with you, I forget that I am expected to dine at a house to which I was invited a week ago. They will not sit down without me, and I do not wish to keep them waiting too long."
As he spoke, Robineau stepped toward Alfred to shake hands. The latter seized the opportunity to take possession of the portfolio which the clerk held under his arm.
"My portfolio! my portfolio!" cried Robineau; "the devil! no practical jokes!"
"I'll bet you that it contains nothing but blank paper," said Alfred, still retaining possession of the portfolio. "Come, Robineau; will you bet a dinner at V?ry's?"
"I won't bet any dinner. I am in a hurry; give it back to me. I don't want you to look inside; they are secret papers."
But Alfred paid no heed; he untied the strings of the portfolio, and exhibited to Edouard four packages of letter paper, three sticks of sealing wax, a pencil and two papers of pins.
"So this is what you work at all night?" observed Alfred; while Edouard laughed heartily at the expense of the man who had hissed his play.
Robineau feigned surprise, crying:
"Mon Dieu! I must have made a mistake! I took one package for another! I have so many files before me!--This vexes me terribly, I assure you; and if I were not expected at dinner, I would go back to my desk."
"Monseigneur, I restore your secret documents," said Alfred, handing the large portfolio, with an air of profound respect, to Robineau, who replaced it under his arm and was about to take his leave, to escape the witticisms of the two young men. But the taller one detained him.
"You are not angry, I trust, Robineau?"
"I! angry!--Why so, pray? You like to laugh and joke, and so do I, when I have time."
"Yes, I know that you are a good fellow at bottom. Look you--to prove to me that you bear me no grudge because I insisted upon casting a profane eye into the administrative portfolio, you must come to my house this evening; my father gives a large reception--I don't quite know on what occasion; but this much I do know--that there will be cards and dancing and some very pretty women. Despite your little every-day passion, you are a connoisseur of the sex, and you must come. Edouard will be with us--he has promised me; we will win his money at ?cart?, and that will help him to forget his last failure. And then, who knows? perhaps he will find among the company a beauty who will wipe from his heart the memory of his faithless fair.--Well! will you come?"
Robineau's face fairly beamed while Alfred proffered his invitation; he grasped his hand again and shook it hard, as he replied:
"Enough fine phrases! Is there any need of ceremony between us? I intended to write to you; but you know how thoughtless I am, and I forgot all about it.--Then you will come?"
"All right, it's understood; until this evening, then; and we will try to enjoy ourselves, which is not always easy at grand functions."
With that the young man and his companion, after nodding to the Treasury clerk, walked rapidly away, leaving Robineau in the garden of the Palais-Royal, so engrossed by the invitation he had just received and by the prospect of passing the evening at the Baron de Marcey's, that, if his feet had not been arrested by the raised rim of the basin, he would have walked straight into the water on the way to his favorite restaurant.
THE MILLINER.--ROBINEAU'S TOILET
Robineau arrived at last at his modest restaurant, the public rooms of which were, as usual, full of people; for small purses are more common than large fortunes; which does not mean that only the wealthy frequent the best restaurants. But one thing is certain, namely, that at thirty-two sou places, the patrons eat with heartier appetites than one sometimes has in the gilded salons of the others. As bread is supplied in unlimited quantities, the consumers do not stint themselves with respect to it; and the cry of: "Some bread, waiter!" is heard constantly from every part of the room.
Robineau, who, under ordinary circumstances, was not of the number of small eaters, had less appetite than usual on this day; he swallowed his soup without complaining that it was too clear or too salt, to the waiter's great surprise; and when the latter inquired what he wished to eat after the soup, Robineau replied:
"Whatever you please, but make haste. I am in a great hurry. I am going to the Baron de Marcey's this evening, and I must dress with great care."
"In that case, monsieur, a beefsteak and potatoes," said the waiter, who cared very little whether his customer was going to a baron's that evening, while Robineau looked about with an air of importance to see whether anyone had noticed what he had just said, and whether people were looking at him with more respect. But to no purpose did he cast his eyes over the neighboring tables; the persons who surrounded him were too busily occupied in putting out of sight what was on their plates, to amuse themselves staring at their neighbors; a thirty-two sou restaurant is not the place in which to put on airs.
Robineau, seeing that no one paid any attention to him, although he mentioned the baron's name once more, hastened to eat the three courses which followed the soup. When the waiter came with the dessert, which consisted of nuts and raisins, Robineau's customary order, the clerk sprang to his feet, and, placing his portfolio under his arm, left the table, saying to the waiter:
Robineau hastened to Rue Saint-Honor?, where his lodgings were situated. As he drew near the house, the ground floor of which was occupied by a milliner's shop, he slackened his pace and his eyes seemed to try to pierce the yellow silk curtains which concealed the shop girls from the eyes of passers-by.
"The devil!" muttered Robineau; "it's only six o'clock, and Fifine isn't ready to leave the shop. But I am in extreme need of her assistance. If that thoughtless Alfred had written me a few days beforehand, I might have prepared for his grand reception, and I should have everything that I need. These rich people never remember that other people aren't rich!--I don't know whether I have a white waistcoat to wear, and silk stockings.--Have I any silk stockings?--Mon Dieu! I lent them to Fifine the last night we went to the theatre, and she hasn't returned them yet. That woman will end by stripping me of everything! I am too generous. But if she has worn holes in them I'll make a terrible scene!--With fifteen hundred francs a year, when one has to feed and lodge oneself, and when one wishes to cut some figure in society, one cannot swim in silk stockings--it's impossible!--and with all the rest, I have had no luck at ?cart? for some time past. Mon Dieu! when shall I be rich?--I certainly will not put on airs then; I will be neither haughty nor insolent. But at all events, when I receive an invitation to go into the best society, I shall not be driven to expedients to procure silk stockings."
While indulging in these reflections, Robineau had arrived in front of the shop; but the door was closed. To be sure, the curtains afforded a glimpse of the lower part of a face, an arm, or a profile; but there were six young women who worked in the shop; and when the mistress was present they kept their eyes on their work and did not attempt to look out of the windows. Robineau passed the door and decided to enter the passageway leading to his rooms, at the end of which was a door opening into the back shop. He walked to and fro for some time, coughing loudly when he was near the door at the end, and glancing impatiently at his silver watch, which he carried in his fob, at the end of a dainty blue ribbon of watered silk passed about his neck.
All six of the young women who worked in the milliner's shop slept in the house; two in a room adjoining the mistress's apartment, and the other four in a room on the fifth floor, above Robineau's. Mademoiselle Fifine was one of the four. Robineau was well aware that, in order to go to her room, Fifine must pass through the passageway; but she did not ordinarily go up until nine o'clock, and he could not wait until that hour to speak to the girl. Much the simplest way would have been to go into the shop and ask Mademoiselle Fifine to step outside for a moment; but that would have meant an irrevocable quarrel with his fair one; for, like all milliner's apprentices, Fifine had her own code of morals; if she had lovers, it was only because all her companions had their pleasant little acquaintances, and because they would have made fun of her if she too had not had someone to take her out to walk on Sunday. But during the week, madame--that was the title that they bestowed on the mistress of the establishment--was very strict with her young ladies, and she was responsible for their virtue from eight in the morning till nine at night.
After coughing vainly in the passage, Robineau decided to go up to his room, in order to put away his portfolio and make preparations for his toilet. He climbed the four flights of a dark and dusty staircase, of a type not uncommon on Rue Saint-Honor?; he entered his apartment, which consisted of two small rooms, one of which served as waiting-room, wardrobe and kitchen, the other as bedroom, dressing-room and salon. The first was scantily furnished, but the second was decorated with more or less taste, and it was orderly and clean; in fact, everything was in its place--a rare thing in a bachelor's quarters.
Robineau opened one of the drawers of his commode, took out his black dress coat and his dancing trousers, and to his delight, found a spotlessly white piqu? waistcoat. He spread them all on the bed, then looked at himself complacently in the mirror over the mantel; and his mirror showed him, as usual, a coarse, bloated face, small black eyes, a large round nose, a small mouth, a low forehead, very thick light hair, and thin, compressed lips. Robineau considered it a charming face; he smiled at himself, assumed affected poses, bowed to himself, and exclaimed:
"I am very good-looking, and in full-dress I ought to produce a great effect."
After looking at himself in the mirror for several minutes, he returned to his commode, fumbled in the drawers, turned everything upside down, and cried:
"Evidently I have no silk stockings. If worse comes to worst, I might buy a pair--I still have twenty-three francs left from my month's pay; but that would straiten me; if I want to risk a little at ?cart?, I can't do it. I know well enough that if I should ask Alfred to lend me money, he wouldn't refuse; but I don't want to appear to be short, and, in truth, as I have some very fine silk stockings, I don't see why I should buy others. Mademoiselle Fifine simply must return them; if not, it's all over, we are out, and I give her no more guitar lessons. She will think twice; a girl doesn't find every day a lover who plays the guitar and who is obliging enough to teach his sweetheart how to play."
Robineau took down a guitar that hung in a corner of the room, went to the open window looking on the courtyard, and hummed a ballad, accompanying himself on the instrument. When Fifine was in her room on the fifth floor, the guitar was ordinarily the signal which notified her that Robineau awaited her; but it was hardly possible to hear the music in the shop.
After he had sung for some time, Robineau looked again at his watch; he stamped the floor impatiently and was about to go down to the passage, when someone rang at his door.
"It is she! She must have heard me!" he cried as he ran to open the door. But instead of his charmer, he found a young solicitor's clerk, whom he knew as the friend of one of Fifine's shopmates.
"Have they come up?" inquired the young man, not entering the room, but simply thrusting his head forward to look.
"What do you mean? have who come up?"
"The young ladies. I simply must speak to Th?na?s; I went up to their room at all risks and knocked; no one answered, but, as I came down, I heard your guitar; and knowing that you gave lessons to Mademoiselle Fifine, I thought that they were in your room."
"Alas, no! they are still in the shop; they won't come up for a good hour at least; it is most annoying to me, for I have something very important to ask Fifine."
"Well! isn't there any way to let them know that we are here?"
"Oh! if we should go to the shop, they would be angry; it's expressly forbidden; and then I don't care to do it myself; when one is in one of the departments of the government, one has to maintain a certain decorum; especially just now, we have to be moral; the rules are very strict on that point."
"We can get the young ladies to come out without going to the shop."
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