Chapter XVII: An Old Friend

The lady’s maid went to the door. Madame de Grangeville took her place anew before her dressing-table, and arranged her cap and her hair. To try to attract, to appear young, was in her a desire so identified with her nature, that she would go to look at herself in her mirror before allowing a chimney sweep to enter her room.

But no one appeared; she heard only the sound of voices in the reception room. It lasted some time, and Madame de Grangeville, who divined what was happening, threw herself back in her chair and began to look over the newspaper as if what were going on in her reception room did not concern her.

After some little time the outer door closed and Mademoiselle Lizida reappeared, crying:

“Heavens! how unendurable those people are getting to be! They have no manners at all; I thought that it would never end.”

“Who was it?”

“Mon Dieu! it was that idiot of a grocer opposite, who has taken it into his head to come himself now.”

“The grocer! what on earth can I owe to a grocer? I don’t eat here, that is to say, I send out for everything.”

“To be sure, no cooking is done in madame’s apartment, but I make her chocolate; and then candles,--madame uses a great many of them; and I have to have oil for the lamps, and then sugar--we can’t get along without sugar--and tea, and coffee--I take coffee in the morning. And then soap, and matches, and I don’t know what; there’s no end to the things, although we seem not to need anything.--In fact, he demands a total of ninety-six francs!”

“As much as that for trifles?”

“Yes, madame. I tell you the sugar goes fast, when one drinks tea!”

“Well, I will pay him when I have money.”

“That’s what I told him; but would you believe, madame, that he had the face to reply: ‘Your mistress has money enough to hire cabs, for she goes out in them often enough; she ought to have some to pay her grocer!’”

“What a shocking thing! Why, it is disgusting! The idea! I must stop to think before taking a cab, because of a miserable creditor!”

“Yes, madame, things have got to that point. That is the result of our revolutions.”

“Lizida, you will get nothing more at that man’s shop, I forbid you!”

“Oh! madame has no need to forbid me, there’s no danger of my going there again; besides, he wouldn’t let me have anything more on credit! He says that if he doesn’t get his money in two days he’ll go before the justice of the peace.”

“All right! let him go before his justice of the peace! I won’t go myself, that’s all.--How unfortunate it is to have to do with such people!--Heavens!--someone else is ringing; can it be that that clown has come back?”

“This time I will take my broom, and if it’s the grocer again, I will sweep his legs out from under him!”

Mademoiselle Lizida went out in a rage. Madame de Grangeville listened, this time with some little emotion; but she heard no voices, it was evidently not a creditor. The maid reappeared with a very different expression.

“Monsieur de Merval asks if he may present his respects to madame la baronne?”

“Yes, to be sure; show him in.”

And the baroness made haste to cast another glance at the mirror, to arrange her hair and to assume a gracious attitude in her easy-chair.

Monsieur de Merval was ushered into the room; he entered with the exquisite courtesy which distinguished him, and took a chair near Madame de Grangeville, who said to him with her most engaging smile:

“I am very glad that you remembered the promise that you gave me at Monsieur Glumeau’s. I did not rely very much upon it.”

“Why so, madame? Do you think that I also was not delighted to meet again, to see once more, a person who carried me back to the pleasant days of my youth--in memory, to be sure; but those memories are too agreeable ever to be effaced entirely.”

“Dear Armand!--I beg pardon, will you permit me still to call you so?”

“It is a token of friendship for which I thank you.”

“I was unmarried when I knew you; we used to meet often at parties; then you came to my uncle’s house.”

“Yes, madame, yes, the evenings at your uncle’s were delightful; you did the honors with such grace; so that we rated ourselves as very fortunate when we were on the list of your guests.”

“Yes, we used to have music and singing. Do you remember little Dumesnil, how false she sang?”

“I remember especially that you sang like an angel. We used to dance, too, quite often.”

“Yes, while the sober people played whist or bouillotte. You waltzed divinely, Armand; you were our best waltzer.”

“True, the waltz was my specialty.”

“And you never were able to make tall Adèle Brillange dance in time; do you remember her--rather a pretty blonde?”

“Really, I hardly remember her. Just remember that that was fully twenty-three or twenty-four years ago!”

Madame de Grangeville bit her lips, not at all pleased to find that her old acquaintance remembered dates so well.

“Do you still waltz, Monsieur de Merval?”

“Oh! that is all over, madame; I have had my day.”

“Bless my soul! to hear you, one would think that we belonged to the age of Louis XV!”

“No one would think so to look at you, madame; time has stood still for you.”

This compliment restored the serenity of Madame de Grangeville’s expression, and she replied, simpering a little:

“Ah! you are always agreeable; would that I were back in those happy days! Tell me, Armand, if I remember aright, you used to pay court to me then,--yes, you were very attentive to me.”

Monsieur de Merval seemed decidedly embarrassed; he glanced about the salon and replied at last:

“I don’t deny it, madame, but I remember also that as soon as the Comte de Brévanne was introduced to you, discovering that his love was welcomed with enthusiasm, I thought only of making an honorable retreat; and I was wise, as the count became your husband.”

“Yes, he became my husband.”

“It was a love match, was it not, madame?”

“Oh! mon Dieu! is it possible to say, when one is so young? One always imagines that one is in love, but one does not even know what love is. You must have been very much surprised to learn that I was no longer living with Monsieur de Brévanne?”

“Yes, madame; and yet such things happen rather often.”

“Look you, Armand, I am sorry that I didn’t marry you; we should never have parted.”

Monsieur de Merval shook his head slightly and answered with a smile:

“No one knows, no one knows!”

Madame de Grangeville blushed, then assumed a serious air.

“You may perhaps believe all the slanders that Monsieur de Brévanne no doubt spread about me?”

“I knew nothing, heard nothing, madame. Monsieur de Brévanne is too well-bred a man to say anything which could possibly injure your reputation.”

“Oh! when a man is jealous, monsieur, when he fancies himself betrayed, he is sometimes so absurd!”

Monsieur de Merval made no reply, but continued to look about the salon, and seemed painfully affected by the lack of harmony in the furniture.

“Yes,” said Madame de Grangeville after a long pause, “women are always the victims; that is their fate; the men make the laws for us, and we are the weaker party in every respect; we must needs endure the harsh treatment, the violent scenes, the sarcasms of those gentlemen. I tell you, Armand, that all the fault is on the men’s part; I know it, poor abandoned wife that I am!”

Monsieur de Merval, who seemed far from convinced by the lamentations of his old acquaintance, rejoined:

“And Monsieur de Roncherolle, what have you done with him, madame? He was a very amiable, very gallant gentleman, who had great success with the ladies. A good-looking fellow, a hard drinker, and of a courage proof against any test; he had everything that a man needs to succeed.”

The face of the abandoned wife had undergone a complete transformation; her lips were compressed, her brow was wrinkled, her eyes assumed a vague expression, and she retorted in a decidedly curt tone:

“Why do you apply to me for news of Monsieur de Roncherolle? What reason have you to think that I can tell you anything about him?”

“Really, madame, I had no idea of offending you by asking you that question; but a good friend of mine who met you thirteen or fourteen years ago in the Pyrenees, at the Baths of Bagnères, I believe, told me then that you were travelling with Roncherolle; that was what made me think that perhaps you still kept up some relations with him.”

Madame de Grangeville was disconcerted.

“Oh! yes,” she stammered, “that is true; I did meet Monsieur de Roncherolle when I was travelling in the Pyrenees, and we travelled together for some little time. Well, Monsieur de Merval, do you see any harm in that? After all, wasn’t I at liberty to travel with whomever I pleased, since I had already been separated from my husband for several years?”

“I have already had the honor to tell you, madame, that I see no harm anywhere; I simply repeated what I have heard, as we were talking of our old acquaintances, that is all.--And in your financial affairs, I most sincerely hope that you have not suffered, madame? You had an independent fortune, I believe?”

“Yes, that is true, I had a fortune--I had one.”

“What! have you had the misfortune to suffer from somebody’s bankruptcy?”

“Why, yes, I think so; and then, you know, women are so stupid about managing their property.”

“But when it is simply a matter of receiving income, one does not need a business agent for that.”

The bell rang again. The baroness started, and Monsieur de Merval took his hat, saying:

“Somebody has come to visit you, madame, and I will take my leave.”

“Why no, don’t go yet, I beg you; it is no visitor, I expect no one; no one ever comes to see me now!”

The poor woman said this in such a melancholy tone that Monsieur de Merval was touched; he replaced his hat on the chair, and his eyes rested again on various parts of the furniture, which clearly betrayed the lamentable plight of their owner. As he passed these objects in review, in order to conceal what was in his mind, he began to talk about the Glumeau family; but soon a hoarse voice arose in the reception room and dominated Lizida’s, although she did her utmost to drown it.

Thereupon Madame de Grangeville also tried to talk very loud, so that her visitor should not hear the altercation which was taking place in her reception room. She even tried to laugh.

“Oh, yes! ha! ha! ha! that party that those good people gave was very comical; there were such amusing faces there! They put me at the table beside an old gentleman who looked like an owl. Ha! ha! ha!”

But the noise in the reception room did not cease, and Madame de Grangeville laughed on the wrong side of her mouth. Monsieur de Merval, while doing his best not to listen, could not, unless he had stuffed his ears, help hearing a stentorian voice shout:

“I won’t go away! I want my money! I said to my wife: ‘They’ll send you to the devil with your bill; I’m going myself!--_Fichtre!_ I won’t go away without the money!”

Monsieur de Merval, who had been pensive and preoccupied for several minutes, suddenly said to his old friend:

“Mon Dieu! how thoughtless I am, madame! I knew that I had something else to say to you, but while we were talking I forgot it; it is a mere trifle, an old debt that I desire to pay, if you will allow me.”

“What do you mean? I don’t understand you.”

“This is how it is: the last time that I was with Monsieur de Brévanne, a very long time ago, we played cards, and I lost five hundred francs to him on credit, for I had no money with me. After that, I tried in vain to find the count; he had left Paris suddenly. Now, as I have found his wife to-day, I ask permission to cancel a debt which troubles me. If you will allow me to hand you that amount, you will do me a favor.”

Madame de Grangeville blushed slightly as she replied:

“But I don’t know whether I ought to accept; Monsieur de Brévanne and I no longer have any property in common.”

“Oh! I don’t go into all those details,” replied Monsieur de Merval, as he took from his wallet a five-hundred-franc note and laid it on the table. “I am only paying an old debt which I had on my conscience, and surely an old friend like you would not prevent me from accomplishing that duty.--Adieu, madame, I am obliged to leave you; pray receive the homage of my respect.”

Monsieur de Merval kissed the baroness’s hand and hurried out of the room; as he passed through the reception room, he saw a man pacing the floor with his hat on his head, paying no heed to Mademoiselle Lizida’s entreaties.

This personage stared in an impertinent fashion at the gentleman going out; but Monsieur de Merval paid little heed to him; he was pleased to have put his old friend in a position to get rid of her visitor.

Madame de Grangeville had not been deceived by the little fable invented by Monsieur de Merval in order to oblige her; she had said to herself:

“That was very nice on his part; it was a very delicate proceeding; but after all, he is rich; he guessed that I needed money, and he has lent me some; it’s a simple matter.--Lizida! Lizida!”

The lady’s maid hurried into the room, and was stupefied when her mistress handed her a bank note.

“Here, my dear, go out and change this!”

“O madame! five hundred francs! How lovely!”

“Who is that wretched creature outside?”

“Your dressmaker’s husband; he demands the total of the bill, one hundred and twenty-three francs!”

“Take him with you, and pay him.”

“The whole amount?”

“There’s no help for it; his wife works beautifully, and I always need her. Go, and bring back a coupé when you come; I will go out to buy a hat.”

“Yes, madame.--By the way, what about the grocer opposite?”

“What do we owe him?”

“Ninety-six francs.”

“Give him ten francs on account, that is quite enough.”