The Flower Girl of The Chateau d'Eau Volume Ii Part 15

"That is the result of my long studies--another advantage of age!"

"Look at Alfred; he hasn't drunk half as much as you, I'll bet, and his eyes are in curl-papers already; anyone would think he was going to sleep."

"I--oh! I haven't any desire to sleep; I was engaged in thought."

"Of what?"

"Of the baroness whom he escorted home, no doubt!" said Jericourt, with an ironical glance at the gentleman who aroused his displeasure, and whose emotion at the mention of the baroness's name he had noticed.

"Are you going to stuff us some more with your t.i.tled lady?" cried Mademoiselle Zizi; "bah! what a tease this Jericourt is!"

"That subject bores you, my sweet angel; forgive me, I won't mention that lady again. However, I believe that this Madame de Grangeville is nothing more than a counterfeit baroness."

"What makes you think so, monsieur? By what right do you insult that lady?" demanded Roncherolle, in a tone in which there was no trace of jesting, and with a by no means amicable glance at the man of letters.

"What! I insult her? Why do you set yourself up as the lady's champion, monsieur, if you don't know her?"

"I do know her, monsieur, and I have a right to defend her. The Baronne de Grangeville is more n.o.ble than you are eminent in letters; but perhaps that is not saying overmuch for her n.o.bility."

"You are attacking me now, monsieur; do you mean to insult me?"

"Come, come, messieurs! upon my word! how is this? do you propose to quarrel now?" murmured Alfred, whose mouth had become dry and sticky. "I won't have it; I----"

"Hold your tongue, Bibi!" cried Mademoiselle Zizi. "Don't you see that it's a joke? It would be pretty, wouldn't it, to come to dinner with a lady and take to squabbling in her presence!--In the first place, I believe monsieur is too well bred for that; and as for Jericourt, he knows well enough that it doesn't pay to make me angry; I have ways of revenging myself! Come; let's have no more talk about it, and our dear neighbor will show us the fourth way to drink champagne; and everybody must try to imitate him this time. What do you say, my dear friend?"

"I told you just now, _belle dame_, that I am always at your service."

"Good! now you are agreeable again."

While Roncherolle filled his gla.s.s, Jericourt rose, took his hat, and said, bowing coldly to the company:

"It is eight o'clock and I have an appointment at that hour; I am distressed that I cannot stay longer."

"What! leaving us so early?" faltered Alfred.

"Liberty! _libertas!_" said Zizi; "all sorts of good wishes, monsieur!"

When Jericourt had left the room, the young woman sprang to her feet and began to dance a sort of _cachucha_ in front of the mirror, singing:

"Il est parti Ce cher ami!

Ah! ca m'enchante!

J'en suis contente!

Traderi dera la la Traderi deri! Biribi!"

"Faith!" said Roncherolle, "I must tell you frankly, my dear Monsieur Saint-Arthur, that Monsieur Jericourt doesn't attract me at all, and that I ask you as a favor not to invite me to dine with him again!"

"Nor me; I won't dine with that ill-licked fellow any more; do you hear, my dear?"

"I hear.--But let's see the fourth way."

"Attention!--You must sing: 'When the bells of the village ring the hour of work, _eh bon, bon, bon_!' I have my gla.s.s full, I drink after your three _bons_, and I answer _bon_. You repeat _eh bon bon bon_ three times; I answer _bon_ every time, after drinking; and when I say _bon_ the last time I must have finished my gla.s.s."

"_Fichtre!_ that's rather complicated!"

"Not at all; it's simply a matter of emptying your gla.s.s in three swallows; you mustn't begin till after the _eh bon bon bon_, and you must finish it before you say the last _bon_.--Sing, fair Zizi."

"Here goes!

"When the bells of the village Ring the hour of work, Eh bon bon bon!"

Roncherolle, after drinking:

"_Bon!_"

Zizi:

"_Eh bon bon bon!_"

Roncherolle:

"_Bon!_"

Zizi:

"_Eh bon bon_----"

"_Bon!_ and you see, it's empty!"

"Ah! that's a very pretty way!--It's my turn; fill my gla.s.s, old fellow, and sing; I'm ready."

Roncherolle sang and Mademoiselle Zizi drank, answered _bon,_ and swallowed her wine at one gulp.

"You went a little fast," said the professor; "but never mind, you'll do it all right."

"My turn!" cried Alfred, lifting his gla.s.s in a hand that was far from steady. "Sing, and you'll see; I'm sure of succeeding at this method; I am waiting at the post."

Mademoiselle Zizi sang the ballad. At the first _bon bon!_ Saint-Arthur spilt his wine on the floor; at the second he struck his nose with his gla.s.s; and at the third he swallowed the wrong way and strangled; they were obliged to pound him on the back and make him look at the ceiling, in order to bring him to life.

"My dear boy, I think that you have done enough for to-day," said Zizi; "you are not adroit to-night, and I don't want you to learn any more ways.--Great heaven! it's nine o'clock! I must go and dress--I wear a costume that it takes a long while to put on.--I say, I'm a little dizzy; but no matter! it will pa.s.s off on the stage.--Adieu, monsieur; I hope to see you again."

"Are you going away alone?"

"I have only to cross the boulevard. Alfred, you will come to my dressing-room for me at half-past eleven, not a minute earlier; I forbid you."

"Yes, dear angel.--Isn't she enchanting, neighbor, with that little demoniacal expression?"

"And he'd like me not to love anybody but him, the idiot!" whispered Zizi in Roncherolle's ear; "can you imagine such conceit?"