Frederique Volume II Part 4

"And then?"

"Then she said she'd come about noon to-morrow, and told me to tell you."

"She will come to-morrow?"

"Yes, monsieur, about noon."

"Very good! very good!"

I was beside myself with joy. I rewarded my concierge, then ran lightly up my two flights. Pomponne opened the door. I went in singing, and said to him:

"To-morrow, Pomponne, about noon, a young grisette will come here."

"Ah! a grisette--a new one?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean one who has not called on monsieur before."

"Why, yes, of course, you idiot! She will ask for----"

"_Pardi!_ she will ask for monsieur."

"Well, no; that is just what she won't do."

"Will she ask for me, then? But I don't expect anybody, monsieur!"

"Oh! how you annoy me with your reflections, Pomponne! She will ask for---- But, no, you would make some infernal blunder; I prefer not to have you here. I will send you on some errand, and let her in myself when she comes."

"What, monsieur! do you distrust me to that extent?"

"Hus.h.!.+ you bore me."

"But if you want her to ask for me, monsieur, I'm willing, I don't refuse."

"Leave me in peace, and go to bed!"

Pomponne went to bed, weeping because I would not allow him to be there on the morrow to admit my young grisette. I fell asleep thinking of Mademoiselle Rosette. Her visit indicated a very earnest wish to make my acquaintance; or was it not due to her having read that name on the ticket? Was it not because she believed me to be a famous author that she had come to my lodgings? All women love renown; grisettes are as susceptible to it as other women. And in that case, when she learned----

"Faith!" said I to myself; "we shall see to-morrow; let's go to sleep."

At noon, I was becomingly dressed; I had sent Pomponne away, with orders not to return before two o'clock, and I impatiently counted the minutes.

I did not count long. The bell rang; I opened the door instantly: it was my grisette, in the same costume as on the day of our first meeting, and with a no less affable expression. She entered without ceremony. I ushered her into my little salon, and invited her to sit on the divan, saying:

"How good of you to come!"

"I came last evening."

"I know it. But why weren't you at the theatre? I was so anxious to meet you there! In fact, it was for you that I sent the box, and not for those others."

"Yes, but I couldn't go; there was work that had to be done, and at such times there's no fun to be had. You saw my employer, Madame Ratapond, and a specimen of my aunts."

"Ah! so those were your aunts; the elderly ladies, I presume?"

"Yes. And my mistress, what did you think of her?"

"She is very good-looking. But it was you that I wanted to see! You are so pretty, and I love you so dearly!"

At this point, I tried to add action to speech; but Mademoiselle Rosette pushed me away and arose, saying:

"In the first place, I want you to let me alone. Stop! stop! you think you can go on like that, right away---- Oh, no! Later, I won't say! We'll see!"

Good! At all events, she gave me ground for hope. I liked her frankness exceedingly.

"In the second place, I must go; yes, I'm in a great hurry. I came here on my way to do an errand; but it wasn't far that I had to go, and my mistress will say: 'There's that Rosette idling again!'"

"Ah! so it seems that you do that sometimes?"

"Yes, sometimes; I don't deny it. I like to stroll along and look in the shop windows."

"Sit down a moment."

She did so, and said, after looking about the room:

"Monsieur--is it really true that it's you?"

"That it's I?--why---- What do you mean?"

"Why, you know, yesterday, when I saw your name on the ticket, I shouted for joy, and I said: 'What! that gentleman who spoke to me is the one who writes the plays I like so much and go to see so often!'--Oh! I tell you, I was pleased then, and that's why I came right here last night: I remembered your address, and I asked if it was really you that lived in this house; and the concierge said _yes_, and I told him I'd come again to-morrow, at noon. Well! does that make you angry? you don't say anything."

"No; it doesn't make me angry. But I was thinking."

"I say, monsieur, do you know I'm mad over your plays? If I should go mad over you too----"

"There's no danger of that."

"What's that? there's no danger? What makes you say: 'There's no danger'? Perhaps you don't know that I take fire very quickly, I do!"

That young woman was decidedly original. She said whatever came into her head, without beating about the bush. I liked that frankness, in which there was something like artlessness. Mademoiselle Rosette was neither stupid, nor pretentious, nor prudish. She was a perfect little phoenix, was that grisette. I began by kissing her; she defended herself feebly, or, rather, she allowed herself to be kissed without too much fuss; but when I attempted to go further, she defended herself very stoutly, crying:

"I said: 'Not to-day!'--So, no nonsense; it's a waste of time!"

"Well, when, then?"

"Oh! we'll see; we've got time enough. Do you like me?"

"What a question! Many other men must like you, for you know well enough that you're as pretty as a peach."