Monsieur Cherami Part 61

"It is as I have the honor to tell you, and, between ourselves, I believe that she never really loved her husband--which explains why she wasted so little regret on him."

"All that you tell me surprises me so that I can't collect my thoughts.

f.a.n.n.y widowed! f.a.n.n.y free!"

"Yes, widowed, and more than six months pa.s.sed already! By the way,--and this is the first question I should have asked you,--do you still love her?"

"Do I still love her! Ah! my dear Arthur, can you doubt it?"

"It seems to me that you have had plenty of time and a perfect right to forget her. I seem to recall that that was your hope when you went away."

"That may be; but I have not been able to do it. I tried to distract my thoughts, to fall in love with other women. One day, I fancied that I was; but the illusion soon vanished; and then, the last time I met f.a.n.n.y, she was so sweet with me that the memory of that occasion was not well calculated to destroy my love."

"Then you love her? you are sure of it?"

"Nonsense, my dear fellow! why do you ask me that?"

"Oh! because I had thought of something else; and if you were no longer in love with the widow---- But, as you are still daft over her, why, that's at an end; and I believe that things will go on now to suit you."

"I am going to see Adolphine, f.a.n.n.y's sister, to-day."

"Why shouldn't you go to see f.a.n.n.y herself? I should say that that would be the shortest way. I can give you her address."

"Oh! you can't mean that, my friend! that I should go to that young widow's house at once--I, who have not been to see her since her marriage! It wouldn't be proper. She must give me permission first."

"But, as she urged you to call on her when she was a married woman, it seems to me that she can afford to receive you now that she's a widow."

"To be sure, but not right away; I must see her first, at her father's.

She must go there often, now?"

"I should rather see you go to the little widow's than to her father's."

"Why so?"

"Why, indeed! That's the sequel of the idea I spoke about just now.

However, do as you think best; the main point is that you have come in time, and that you should stay in Paris; because I am horribly bored while you are away. On my word, I seem to miss something."

"Dear Arthur! I am really touched by the interest you take in everything that concerns me.--And yourself, my friend--are you happy, are you doing well in business?"

"I can't do badly, because I do no business at all. I am content--because I am a philosopher! I am happy--when I have my cue; but I haven't had it for some time."

"I'll bet that you have no money."

"You would win very often if you made that bet."

"And you didn't say a word about it! Am I no longer your friend?"

"My dear Gustave, you overwhelm me;--but I owe you something now, and----"

"What does that matter? Do friends keep accounts with one another? Isn't he who can oblige the other the happier?"

"Damme! if all my friends of the old days had been of your way of thinking!"

Gustave produced his wallet, took out a banknote, and thrust it into Cherami's hand, saying:

"Here, my good friend, take this; and when it's all gone, tell me so.

Now, adieu! I must leave you and go to Monsieur Gerbault's; I dine with my uncle to-day; but if you will dine with me to-morrow, be in front of the Pa.s.sage de l'Opera at six o'clock."

"If I will! Par la sambleu! why, it will be a regular fete for me."

"In that case, adieu, until to-morrow!"

When Gustave was a long distance away, Cherami continued to look after him, saying to himself:

"There goes the pearl of friends; I don't know the pearls upon which Mesdemoiselles Laurette and Lucie are employed, but a real friend is worth far more than all the treasures of Golconda, and is much rarer too. I was on the point of mentioning a certain idea that I have got into my head relative to little Adolphine, the pretty widow's sister; but I thought, on reflection, that I should do better to say nothing about it. What good would it do to tell him that I think poor Adolphine's in love with him, when he still loves f.a.n.n.y? It would make him unhappy, and that's all; he wouldn't dare to go to Papa Gerbault's to talk about his dear f.a.n.n.y. I certainly did well to hold my tongue.

Let's see what he slipped into my hand. Generous Gustave! he is quite capable of loaning me five hundred francs more."

Cherami unfolded the banknote which he held in his hand, and was thunderstruck when he saw that it was for a thousand francs.

Having satisfied himself that he was not mistaken, Cherami stuffed the note into his cigar-case, muttering:

"A thousand francs! he gave me a thousand francs, and said: 'When that's gone, let me know!' Sacrebleu! this unexpected wealth bewilders me. That young man's behavior touches me; it makes me blush for my own. Come, Arthur, my good friend, do you propose to continue your dissipation, your foolish courses? And because you have fallen in with a whole-souled fellow who gave you money without counting it, are you going to work, as usual, to waste that money as you wasted your fortune? I say _no_! par la sambleu! I will not do it; I propose to show myself worthy to be Gustave's friend. From this day forth, I turn over a new leaf, I become a reasonable man, I put water in my wine; and, for a beginning, I will go and dine for thirty-two sous."

While Cherami was forming these excellent resolutions, Gustave betook himself, without loss of time, to Monsieur Gerbault's house.

Adolphine was alone, trying, by dint of practising diligently on the piano, to forget for a moment the secret pain which was gnawing at her heart. f.a.n.n.y's sister had changed perceptibly in the last few months; a genuine pa.s.sion does not leave one unscathed; at nineteen years of age, such a pa.s.sion occupies one's every moment, obtrudes itself upon one's every thought. The girl's features bore traces of her suffering; her face had grown thin and pale, and constantly wore an expression of sadness, which she strove, but in vain, to hide beneath a smile in the presence of others; and her sister's company was not likely to afford her any distraction, because she talked almost incessantly of the man whom Adolphine would have been glad to forget.

Madeleine, who had recognized Gustave, did not deem it necessary to announce him, but allowed him to enter her mistress's apartment, where he could hear her playing the piano. He went forward softly and stood behind Adolphine, and several moments pa.s.sed before she happened to glance at the mirror over the piano and saw him standing there. A cry escaped her; she whispered Gustave's name, then a ghastly pallor spread over her face, and she looked down at the floor.

"Mon Dieu! my dear Adolphine! what's the matter?" cried the young man, in dismay; "shall I call somebody?"

But Adolphine motioned to him not to go, and shook hands with him, saying in an uncertain voice:

"It's nothing--the surprise--the excitement; I was so unprepared to see you! But it's all gone.--So you are at home again, Monsieur Gustave?"

"Yes, my good little sister. So you didn't expect me, eh? You had forgotten all about me?"

"Oh! I don't say that; on the contrary, it seemed to me that you were staying away a long while this time."

"I have been away nearly seven months; and during that time, I understand that--many things have happened here."

"Ah! you know?"

"Yes, I know that your sister is a widow."

"Who has told you that, so soon?"

"Cherami; you know, the man who was with me the day of----"

"Oh, yes! I know him; it was he, too, who came to tell us the fatal news of poor Auguste's death; for, I don't know how it happens, but your Monsieur Cherami succeeds in having his finger in everything; everybody takes him for a confidant.--When did you return?"