My Neighbor Raymond Part 38

"I don't see anything uncommon about it."

"Not in comparison with the one you wore on Rue des Rosiers?"

"You always have something unkind to say!"

"I don't see what there is unkind in what I said."

"I suppose you'd have me go out in cap and ap.r.o.n!"

"They wouldn't be unbecoming to you."

"But I have no desire to wear them."

"Oh! I believe you!"

"To hear you, anyone would think that before you knew me I was a stupid, awkward country girl!"

"I am well aware that you were not an innocent maid."

"Are we going to stay here on the boulevard all night? I am going home; are you coming with me?"

I hesitated; but I went with her. When we were in her apartment, Caroline joked me about my severe air. In truth, what right had I to reproach her? I was far from amiable sometimes, I knew; and a man who scolds and grumbles is seldom loved. True; but a man who is loved never appears to scold; he is always right. I kissed Caroline, and peace was made. We dined together, and I took her to the theatre; but although I did my best to amuse her, she did not seem to enjoy herself very much.

She appeared to be distraught, preoccupied; I was almost tempted to find fault with her, but I restrained myself, for she would have said that I was always complaining! But if she had been as she used to be, I should have had no cause to complain. Ah! I say again, when a man ceases to be lovable, it means that he is no longer loved.

It was near midnight when I went home. A secret hope led me to grasp the k.n.o.b hurriedly. No bouquet! and yet it was the day! Could Nicette have forgotten me? That would have caused me a pang, a very sharp pang. But what childish nonsense! How could I expect her to bring me flowers all the year round, when I did not condescend to go to her to bid her good-morning? In the depths of my heart, however, I was not indifferent to those tokens of her remembrance of me; I was touched by them, much more, perhaps, than I supposed; I realized it from the grief that I felt at her neglect; I had become so accustomed to that homage! It seemed to me that it was my due. Why should I conceal it? I flattered myself that Nicette loved me; I believed her to be capable of constancy; and while I did not choose to abuse her love, I was not at all sorry to inspire it.

I determined to investigate her conduct; I determined to see her, to speak to her. I would rise the next morning at six and prowl about the little flower girl's booth. What strange mortals we are! For a whole month I had neglected Nicette; and because I thought that she had forgotten me, I was consumed by a longing to see her again, to know what she was doing and what her sentiments were! Was it love, self-esteem, jealousy, vanity, or simple curiosity on my part? Call it what you please, it was as I have described it.

As for Caroline, I determined not to torment myself any more about her; she was either faithful or unfaithful; in the first case, I was wrong to suspect her; in the second, she deserved neither my love nor my regrets.

That is a very fine dilemma which I propose to all jealous lovers, present and future. But they will reply that when a man is able to talk sensibly he is not in love. To that I have nothing to say, for I am inclined to think that it is true.

I was up at six o'clock. At that hour I was quite certain not to meet any acquaintances before whom I should blush to be seen speaking to a street peddler. I soon reached the place where Nicette was accustomed to display her wares. But I saw nothing; could it be that I was too early?

had she moved to another quarter? I accosted a messenger whose stand was a few feet away; those fellows know everything.

"My friend, wasn't there a flower girl who used to stand in front of this house?"

"Yes, monsieur; she was here up to a week ago."

"And she no longer stands here?"

"Oh! she isn't very far off. Thirty yards or so farther along you'll see a little shop; that's where she is now."

"A shop, do you say?"

"Yes, monsieur; it isn't very big, but it's well arranged, all the same."

I turned to walk away--but perhaps that man could tell me something.

Nicette had a shop; what was I to conclude from that? I trembled to think! Had some other man been more fortunate than I? had she listened to some other man? and did another possess that treasure which I might have obtained and which it had cost me such a struggle to respect?

I returned to the messenger, put some money in his hand, and began to question him.

"Do you know this flower girl?"

"Yes, monsieur, I know her--not very well, though, for she's a bit proud; she don't talk much to anybody but her customers; and even then you mustn't say too much, or she'll send you about your business. Oh!

she's a good girl, I tell you! She's virtuous, and the virtuous ones are always noticed."

The man's praise of Nicette caused me the keenest delight; I should have been sorry to learn that I could no longer esteem her.

"You say that she's virtuous, eh?"

"Yes, monsieur; we messengers know what's what; and then, I see everything that goes on. It isn't that Mamzelle Nicette lacks lovers.

Oh! pardi! the whole quarter, if she chose! she's so pretty! and she has a fine lot of customers. It's hardly six weeks since she set up on this street; but the young men soon spied her, and there's a whole mob of dandies that come to buy flowers, just to make love to her, you understand. But Mamzelle Nicette don't sell anything but bouquets. I must do her that justice. She won't listen to the swells any more than the footmen; and when some sly fellow orders flowers of her, to have her bring them to him, he gets caught, for she just sends them by the wigmaker's little girl."

I walked away, overjoyed by all that I had learned; in two bounds I was in front of Nicette's shop. She was already arranging her jars of flowers on boards placed outside, in the street. When she saw me, she gave a cry of surprise, dropped the carnations she had in her hand, blushed scarlet, and could hardly stammer:

"What! is it you, monsieur?"

I smiled at her astonishment and entered her shop, where I seated myself on a stool and looked at her.--How pretty she was! Joy made her even prettier, and glistened in the look with which she met mine.

"Is it really you, Monsieur Dorsan, you, in my shop? Ah! I didn't expect such a pleasure! I had stopped hoping for it!"

"Why so, Nicette?"

"Why--it is so long!"

"That is true. But I have things to do which make it impossible----"

"Oh! I believe you, monsieur. Besides, aren't you your own master? and how can you give a thought to a girl who sells flowers?"

There was something so touching in the way she spoke, that I was deeply moved. How could I ever have forgotten such charm, such innocence, such susceptibility? I could not understand it.

She was still standing in front of me; I took her hand, and I believe that I was actually on the point of drawing her down on my knees. She made no resistance; she glanced anxiously about, but had not the strength to go away from me. What imprudence! what was I doing? We were in full sight of pa.s.sers-by, and someone might come in at any minute.

She had nothing but her reputation, and I was about to besmirch it!

Poor child! she would sacrifice it to me, in her dread of displeasing me.

I dropped her hand and moved away from her, looking toward the street.

She understood me, and thanked me with her eyes.

"So you were able to hire a shop, Nicette?"

"Yes, monsieur; I've made a lot since I've been in this quarter. I am economical and spend very little; I am sure that I can get along all right. I don't think I did wrong, did I?"

"No; I know that you are behaving as well as possible."

"You know it?"

"I have never doubted it. Your bouquets have shown me, moreover, what a grateful heart you have."

"Oh! can I ever forget what you did for me?"