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"No, monsieur, no; I don't propose to have her send you work that ain't done right; you pay too well."
"By the way, how much do I owe for these?"
"I don't know, monsieur. Madame Landernoy's never made any before; so she says: 'Let the gentleman pay what he thinks they're worth, and I'll be satisfied.'"
"Four waistcoats, at twelve francs each, makes forty-eight francs."
"Oh! monsieur is joking! Twelve francs for making a waistcoat! You can't mean that, monsieur! At that rate, all women would be waistcoat makers; they can't get any such pay as that."
"You weary me with your scruples, Madame Potrelle; my tailor charges me eighteen or twenty francs, sometimes more, for a waistcoat. With what I paid for the material, these won't cost any more than that, and I certainly don't propose to get them any cheaper."
"Sapristi! monsieur, tailors must do mighty well, then! All right, you can pay that price, since that suits you; but, I tell you, I won't take the money till they fit."
Thereupon the concierge walked toward the door.
"Where are you going, Madame Potrelle?"
"I'm going to tell our young woman she must fix over your waistcoats, monsieur; that they're a gold mine, but that she's got to take 'em in a little. In a word, I'm going to bring Madame Landernoy back with me.
What the devil! with me here, she won't be afraid of you eating her, I fancy! To be on your guard is all right; but there's no need of making a fool of yourself! I'll be back, monsieur."
"But your door, Madame Potrelle?"
"My cats are there--and my little niece."
The good woman went away, refusing to listen to my remonstrances. Would she bring Mignonne back with her? I most sincerely hoped that the young woman would not be annoyed thereat. My desire to know her better was due solely to my wish to be of use to her. I was not in love with her.
Indeed, since Madame Sordeville had treated me so shamefully, I did not propose to love any woman. That was my intention, at least.
Madame Potrelle had been gone nearly two hours, and I was preparing to go out, thinking that she would not return, when there came a gentle ring at my door, and Pomponne soon appeared, still with his air of mystery and walking on tiptoe, and said:
"Monsieur, it's the old woman who was here just now; she hasn't got anything in her ap.r.o.n this time, but she's brought with her a young woman--or demoiselle--who is very good-looking."
I could not help laughing at Monsieur Pomponne's reflections; but I remembered Mignonne's extreme suspicion. It was essential that I should a.s.sume a serious bearing, to banish from her mind any thought of seduction. So that my expression was almost stern when I ordered Pomponne to admit my visitors.
Madame Potrelle entered first. Mignonne came behind her, with a timid, embarra.s.sed air, in which one could read a serious and studied reserve.
The concierge had not exaggerated when she said that her tenant had become a lovely woman. It was a long time since I had seen Mignonne, and I am not sure that I should have recognized her. She was remarkable for the refinement of her features, for the beauty of her coloring, which was not red, but a delicate pink, perfectly in harmony with her white skin; for her fair hair, which was neither colorless nor of too p.r.o.nounced a tone; and, lastly, for the genuine _blueness_ of her eyes--a thing that is seldom seen, for most eyes that are called blue are of any color you please except that.
And then, there was in Mignonne's whole aspect a touch of melancholy that made her doubly interesting, because it was in no wise affected; it seemed to me that everyone must, at sight of her, have a feeling of sympathy for her. Perhaps it was because I was acquainted with her misfortunes that I thought so. This much is certain: that, as I looked upon her, I was touched, deeply moved, and that in my feelings there was nothing resembling love, or the desires to which the sight of a pretty girl often gives birth. There was a large element of respect in the interest that she aroused in me.
"Excuse me, monsieur," said Madame Potrelle, pus.h.i.+ng Mignonne in front of her. "Here's Madame Landernoy; I told her there was something to be done to your waistcoats, with which you are well satisfied, all the same."
"I regret the trouble you have taken, madame. However, it affords me the opportunity of congratulating you on the perfection of your work. I was fortunate in having you consent to work for me."
I said this in a very cold tone and without fixing my eyes on Mignonne, who seemed to grow a little bolder and replied:
"But your waistcoats don't fit, monsieur----"
"Oh! I think that it's a very small matter; you are not a tailor, and, of course, you could not succeed in doing everything just right at the first trial; but if you will allow me to try on one of them in your presence----"
"_Pardi!_ of course you must try 'em on," cried the concierge; "there's no other way to see what's wrong! and, after all, a waistcoat's different from a pair of breeches!"
Mignonne lowered her eyes at Madame Potrelle's remark. I removed my coat and put on one of the waistcoats. Mignonne had no choice but to come to me and touch my chest and back, like a tailor taking my measure. But while she was making her examination, I was careful not to look at her once; so that she was somewhat rea.s.sured.
"I see what needs to be done, monsieur: the collar is too low; it's not much to do, and then I think they'll fit very well. I will take them away with me, and to-morrow----"
She hesitated, and I made haste to say:
"I shall not be here to-morrow, but that makes no difference; if you bring the waistcoats back, be good enough to leave them with the concierge; you need not take the trouble to come up."
"Yes, monsieur," she murmured, almost smiling, for she was beginning to feel altogether at her ease. Madame Potrelle looked at her with a triumphant expression.
I offered Mignonne the money that I owed her. She looked at it and said:
"What, monsieur, as much as that--for so little work? It's too much, monsieur!"
"Madame," I said, rather sharply, "I have told Madame Potrelle what I have to pay my tailor for a waistcoat. I do not intend to make you a present; but, on the other hand, I don't propose to have anyone think that I am trying to defraud a poor seamstress."
"Don't you go to work and make monsieur angry!" cried the concierge. "As he's in the habit of paying that price, what's the use of vexing him and putting him in a bad humor? you mustn't go against people's grain like that!"
Mignonne said nothing; but she took the money I offered, and made a very modest courtesy. For the first time she looked at me without a suspicious expression in her eyes.
"Now," I said, "will you allow me to make you a proposition, madame? You may accept it or not, as you think best. But, first of all, pray be seated for a moment; and you too, Madame Potrelle."
The concierge did not wait to be urged. The younger woman made more ado about it; her suspicions were reawakened. She waited to hear what I had to say.
"I am a bachelor; I have none of the kind-hearted female relations, no aunts or cousins, who condescend sometimes to cast an eye over a young man's linen closet, where there is always something that needs mending.
Our clothes especially are sadly neglected; indeed, no care at all is taken of them. The result is that we spend much more money than we need to spend, which would not happen if some trustworthy person, some skilful seamstress, like yourself, madame, would take charge of affairs.
This, then, is my proposition: that you should come once a week--with Madame Potrelle--and inspect this chest of drawers in which my linen is kept; carry away what may need to be mended, and bring it back when it is done; in short, madame, that you should keep this part of my establishment in order. If you are afraid of disturbing me, or of finding company here, come about five o'clock in the afternoon, for I am never at home at that time; the keys are always in these drawers, and my servant will have orders to allow you to do as you please. That is what I propose, madame. As for your compensation for the work, I fancy that we shall have no difficulty on that subject."
Mignonne listened to me with close attention. Madame Potrelle was in ecstasies; she could hardly keep her seat, and did nothing but cross and uncross her legs. At last, after reflection, the young woman replied:
"Really, monsieur, I do not know how I have earned the confidence with which you honor me. What you propose is a new proof of your kindness, and----"
"No, no, madame; pray consider that, by undertaking this work, you will do me a real service; you will bring order, and consequently economy, into my housekeeping. So you see that I shall be your debtor. Well! do you accept?"
"Does she accept!" cried Madame Potrelle, springing up as if she were going to dance. "Why, who ever heard of refusing such an offer as that?
a thing that makes her sure of regular work; especially when she sees that it's for a gentleman who--for someone who hasn't any desire to--why, it's as plain as can be!"
"Yes, monsieur, I accept, and with grat.i.tude," said Mignonne; "for I have a child, and by giving the mother a.s.surance of a living you benefit the child no less."
I would have liked to shake hands with her; but I restrained myself, and replied, with the same indifferent air:
"In that case, madame, it is all settled, and it rests with you to say when you will enter upon your duties. You will have work enough, I promise you, for it's a long time since my belongings have been put in order."
"Then, monsieur, as I have nothing to do just now, I'll carry a bundle of linen home with me, by your leave. I'll look it over at home, for I have left my daughter with a neighbor, and I don't like to abuse her good nature."
"That's so," said the concierge; "and I ain't very easy in my mind about the actions of my twins and their sister."
"Do as you please, madame. Just open those drawers; you will find the bed and table linen in this closet."