The Cockaynes in Paris Part 5

"What on earth has La Belle Jardiniere got to do with cheap trowsers, Mr. c.o.c.kayne?" his wife interrupted. "You forget your daughters are in the room."

"Well, my dear, the Moses of Paris call their establishment the Belle Jardiniere."

"That's not half so absurd, papa dear," Sophonisba observed, "as another cheap tailor's I have seen under the sign of the 'Docks de la Violette.'"

"I don't know, my dear; I thought when my friend Rhodes came back from Paris, and told me he had worn a pair of the Belle Jardinieres----"

"Mr. c.o.c.kayne!" screamed his wife.

"Well, unmentionables, my dear--I thought I should have died with laughter."

"Sophonisba, my dear, tell us what the paper says about that magnificent shop under the Louvre colonnade; your father is forgetting himself."

"Dear mamma," said Sophonisba, "it would take me an hour to read all;"

but she read the t.i.t-bits.

"My dears," said Mrs. c.o.c.kayne to her daughters, "it would be positively a sin to miss such an opportunity."

Mr. c.o.c.kayne took up the paper which Sophonisba had finished reading, and running his eye over it, said, with a wicked curling of his lip--

"My dear Sophy, my dear child, here are a number of things you've not read."

Sophonisba t.i.ttered, and e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed--"Papa dear!"

"We have heard quite enough," Mrs. c.o.c.kayne said, sternly; "and we'll go to-morrow, directly after breakfast, and spend a nice morning looking over the things."

"But there are really two or three items, my dear, Sophy has forgotten.

There are a lot of articles with lace and pen work; and think of it, my love, ten thousand ladies' chem----"

Mrs. c.o.c.kayne started to her feet, and shrieked--

"Girls, leave the room!"

"What a pity, my dear," the incorrigible Mr. c.o.c.kayne continued, in spite of the unappeasable anger of Mrs. c.o.c.kayne--"what a pity the _Magasins de Louvre_ were not established at the time of the celebrated emigration of the ten thousand virgins; you see there would have been just one apiece."

CHAPTER VI.

A "GRANDE OCCASION."

"Well, these Paris tradespeople are the most extraordinary persons in the world," cried Sophonisba's mamma, and the absolute ruler of Mr.

c.o.c.kayne. "I confess I can't make them out. They beat me. My dear, they are the most independent set I ever came across. They don't seem to care whether you buy or you don't; and they ask double what they intend to take."

"What is the matter now, my dear?" Mr. c.o.c.kayne ventured, in an unguarded moment, to ask, putting aside for a moment Mr. Bayle St.

John's scholarly book on the Louvre.

"At any rate, Mr. c.o.c.kayne, we do humbly venture to hope that you will be able to spare us an hour this morning to accompany us to the _Magasins du Louvre_. We would not ask you, but we have been told the crowd is so great that ladies alone would be torn to pieces."

"I forget how many thousands a day, papa dear," Sophonisba mercifully interposed, "but a good many, visit these wonderful shops. I confess I never saw anything like even the outside of them. The inside must be lovely."

"I have no doubt they are, my dear," Mr. c.o.c.kayne observed. "They were built about ten years ago. The foundations were----"

"There," cried Mrs. c.o.c.kayne, rising, "there, your papa is off with his lecture. I shall put on my bonnet." And Mrs. c.o.c.kayne swept grandly from the room.

Mrs. c.o.c.kayne re-entered the room with her bonnet on; determination was painted on the lady's countenance. c.o.c.kayne should not escape this time.

He should be led off like a lamb to the slaughter. Were not the silks marked at ridiculously low prices? Was not the shawl-room a sight more than equal to anything to be seen in any other part of Paris? Was not the folding department just as much a sight of Paris as that wretched collection of lumber in the Hotel Cluny?

Some wives had only to hint to have; but that was not the case with the hapless Mrs. c.o.c.kayne. She was sure n.o.body could be more economical than she was, both for herself and the children, and that was her reward. She had to undergo the most humiliating process of asking point-blank; even when twenty or thirty thousand pairs of gloves were to be sold at prices that were unheard of! Men were so stupid in their meanness!

"Buy the shop," Mr. c.o.c.kayne angrily observed.

Perhaps Mr. c.o.c.kayne would be pleased to inform his lawful wife and the unfortunate children who were subjected by fate to his cruel tyranny--perhaps he would inform them when it would be convenient for him to take them home. His insults were more than his wife could bear.

"What's the matter now?" asked the despairing c.o.c.kayne, rubbing his hat with his coat-sleeve.

"Mamma dear, papa is coming with us," Sophonisba expostulated.

"Well, I suppose he is. It has not quite come to that yet, my dear. I am prepared for anything, I believe; but your father will, I trust, not make us the laughing-stock of the hotel."

"I am ready," said c.o.c.kayne, grimly, between his teeth.

"I am obliged, you see, children, to speak," icily responded the lady he had sworn to love and cherish. "Hints are thrown away. I must suffer the indignity for your sakes, of saying to your father, I shall want some money for the purchases your mother wants to make for you. It is not the least use going to this Grande Occasion, or whatever they call it, empty-handed."

"Will you allow me time to get change?" And Mr. c.o.c.kayne headed the procession through the hotel court-yard to the Boulevards.

"Walk with your father," the outraged lady said to Sophonisba. "It's positively disgraceful, straggling out in this way. But I might have known what it was likely to be before I left home."

Mr. c.o.c.kayne, as was his wont, speedily re-a.s.sumed his equanimity, and chatted pleasantly with Sophonisba as they walked along the Rue de la Paix, across the Place Vendome, into the Rue Castiglione. Mrs. c.o.c.kayne followed with Theodosia; Carrie had begged to be left behind, to write a long letter to her intellectual friend, Miss Sharp.

Mr. c.o.c.kayne stopped before the door of Mr. John Arthur.

"What on earth can your father want here?" said Mrs. c.o.c.kayne, pausing at the door, while her husband had an interview with Mr. John Arthur within.

Theodosia, peering through the window, answered, "He is getting change, mamma dear."

"At last!"

Mr. c.o.c.kayne issued radiant from Mr. John Arthur's establishment.

"There," said he to his wife, in his heartiest voice; "there, my dear, buy what you and the girls want."

"I will do the best I can with it. Perhaps we can manage our shopping without troubling you."

"It's not the least trouble in the world," gaily said c.o.c.kayne, putting that bright face of his on matters.