Nobody's Girl Part 44

When the factory whistle announced the closing hour she was still standing at her window, deep in thought. The piercing whistle recalled her from the future to the present.

Along the white roads between the fields she saw a black swarm of workers, first a great compact ma.s.s, then gradually it grew smaller, as they dwindled off in different directions in groups towards their homes.

Old Coco's gentle trot was soon heard on the drive, and Perrine saw her blind grandfather returning to his home.

She gave herself a real wash with eau de Cologne as well as soap, a delicious perfume soap. It was not until the clock on the mantle shelf struck eight that she went down.

She wondered how she would find the dining room. She did not have to look for it, however. A footman in a black coat, who was standing in the hall, showed her the way. Almost immediately M. Vulfran came in. No one guided him. He seemed to have no difficulty in finding his way to his seat.

A bowl of beautiful orchids stood in the middle of the table, which was covered with ma.s.sive silver and cut gla.s.s, which gleamed in the lights that fell from the crystal chandelier.

For a moment she stood behind her chair, not knowing what to do. M.

Vulfran seemed to sense her att.i.tude.

"Sit down," he said.

The dinner was served at once. The servant who had shown her the way to the dining room put a plate of soup before her, while Bastien brought another to his master which was full to the brim.

If she had been dining there alone with M. Vulfran she would have been quite at her ease, but the inquisitive glances the servants cast at her made her feel deeply embarra.s.sed. Probably they were wondering how a little tramp like her would eat.

Fortunately, however, she made no mistakes.

The dinner was very simple--soup, roast lamb, green peas and salad--but there was abundance of dessert ... two or three raised stands of delicious fruit and cakes.

"Tomorrow, if you like, you may go and see the hot houses where these fruits are grown," said M. Vulfran.

Perrine thanked him and said she would like to.

She had commenced by helping herself discreetly to some cherries. M.

Vulfran wished her also to take some apricots, peaches and grapes.

"Take all you want," he said. "At your age I should have eaten all the fruit that is on the table ... if it had been offered to me."

Bastien selected an apricot and peach and placed them before Perrine as he might have done for an intelligent monkey, just to see how the "little animal" would eat.

But despite the delicious fruit, Perrine was very pleased when the dinner came to an end. She hoped that the next day the servants would not stare so much.

"Now you are free until tomorrow," said M. Vulfran, rising from his seat. "It is moonlight, and you can go for a stroll in the garden, or read in the library, or take a book up to your own room."

She was embarra.s.sed, wondering if she ought not to tell M. Vulfran that she would do as he wished. While she stood hesitating she saw Bastien making signs to her which at first she did not understand. He held an imaginary book in one hand and appeared to be turning the pages with the other, then glanced at M. Vulfran and moved his lips as though he were reading. Suddenly Perrine understood. She was to ask if she might read to him.

"But don't you need me, sir?" she said, timidly. "Would you not like me to read to you?"

Bastien nodded his head in approval. He seemed delighted that she had guessed what he had tried to explain.

"Oh, you need some time to yourself," replied M. Vulfran.

"I a.s.sure you that I am not at all tired," said Perrine.

"Very well, then," said the blind man; "follow me into the study."

The library was a big somber room separated from the dining room by the hall. There was a strip of carpet laid from one room to the other, which was a guide for the blind man. He now walked direct to the room opposite.

Perrine had wondered how he spent his time when he was alone, as he could not read. From the appearance of the room one could not guess, for the large table was covered with papers and magazines. Before the window stood a large Voltaire chair, upholstered in tapestry. The chair was rather worn. This seemed to indicate that the blind man sat for long hours face to face with the sky, the clouds of which he could never see.

"What could you read to me?" he asked Perrine.

"A newspaper," she said, "if you wish. There are some on the table."

"The less time one gives to the newspapers the better," he replied. "Do you like books on travels?"

"Yes, sir; I do," she said.

"I do, too," he said. "They amuse one as well as instruct one."

Then, as though speaking to himself, as though unaware of her presence, he said softly: "Get away from yourself. Get interested in another life than your own."

"We'll read from 'Around the World'," he said. He led her to a bookcase which contained several volumes on travels and told her to look in the index.

"What shall I look for?" she asked.

"Look in the I's ... for the word India."

Thus he was following his own thoughts. How could he live the life of another? His one thought was of his son. He now wanted to read about the country where his boy lived.

"Tell me what you find," he said.

She read aloud the various headings concerning India. He told her which volume to take. As she was about to take it she stood as though transfixed, gazing at a portrait hanging over the fireplace which her eyes, gradually becoming accustomed to the dim light, had not seen before.

"Why are you silent?" he asked.

"I am looking at the portrait over the mantel shelf," she said, in a trembling voice.

"That was my son when he was twenty," said the old gentleman; "but you can't see it very well. I'll light up."

He touched the electric k.n.o.b and the room was flooded with light.

Perrine, who had taken a few steps nearer, uttered a cry and let the book of travels fall to the floor.

"What is the matter?" he asked.

She did not reply, but stood there with her eyes fixed on the picture of a fair young man dressed in a hunting suit leaning with one hand on a gun and the other stroking the head of a black spaniel.

There was silence in the room, then the blind man heard a little sob.

"Why are you crying?" he asked.

Perrine did not reply for a moment. With an effort she tried to control her emotion.

"It is the picture ... your son ... you are his father?" she stammered.