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قراءة كتاب Frédérique, vol. 2

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Frédérique, vol. 2

Frédérique, vol. 2

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
الصفحة رقم: 7

yourself to; but all young ladies aren't like you."

"They're wrong, then. I must go now; I shall get a scolding."

"Just another minute. Tell me; if you hadn't seen that name on the theatre ticket, wouldn't you have come to see me?"

"Oh, no!"

"Then it was on account of the name alone that you came, not on my account?"

"But it was on your account, as the name's yours."

"But suppose it were not mine? suppose it were a mere accident that that name was on the ticket?"

The girl gazed earnestly at me, then exclaimed impatiently:

"Come, go on! what do you mean? I don't like to have anyone hold my nose under water."

"I mean, mademoiselle, that, like yourself, I do not choose to deceive anyone, or to hold myself out for what I am not. The author of whose works you are so fond—I am not he. My name is Charles Rochebrune; and I haven't the least little bit of renown to serve as a halo to my name. If my concierge lied to you yesterday, it was because I thought that you would not come here for poor me; and, as I ardently desired to see you again, I ventured upon that little fraud, to obtain the pleasure of receiving you here. But I never intended to carry it any further.—That is what I wanted to tell you."

Mademoiselle Rosette was silent for a few moments; I heard her mutter in a disappointed tone: "It's a pity!" But the next minute she smiled and held out her hand, saying:

"I don't care—it was good of you to tell me the truth!"

"Then you are no longer angry with me?"

"What good would that do?"

"And you will love me a little?"

"We shall see. Ah! a piano! Who plays the piano? I love music!"

I sat down at the piano, and played quadrilles, waltzes, and polkas. When I reached the last-named dance, she began to polk about the salon with fascinating grace.

"Do you like the polka?"

"I adore it! Do you polk?"

"A little."

"Let's try it."

She took my arm, and in a moment we were polking all over the salon to a tune which I was obliged to sing while we danced. It was very fatiguing; but Mademoiselle Rosette did not weary; she was an intrepid dancer. We were making our fifteenth circuit, at least, when the door was suddenly thrown open and Frédérique appeared. She stood, speechless with amazement, in the doorway; she had not eyes enough to look at us. I attempted to stop and go to her; but Mademoiselle Rosette dragged me on and compelled me to continue:

"Come on, come on!" she cried. "Do you think of stopping now? My word! Why, I can polk two hours without stopping!"

XXXV

A HIGH LIVER

Mademoiselle Rosette danced on with undiminished ardor, but I felt that mine was rapidly giving out; my voice was dying away, and there were moments when I did not make a sound. After watching us for some time, Frédérique took her place at the piano and began to play a polka for us.

Then there was no longer any reason why we should stop; I did not need to sing, it is true, but I did need the leg of a Hercules to keep pace with my partner, who exclaimed when she heard the music:

"Oh! that's fine! How much better we go with the piano!—Not quite so fast, madame, please! The polka isn't like the waltz."

But I could do no more; I stopped and threw myself into a chair. Mademoiselle Rosette thereupon concluded to sit down; and as she took out her handkerchief to wipe her face, she dropped a thimble, two skeins of cotton, a piece of cake, two sous, a spool of thread, a card, a lump of sugar, a skein of silk, and three plums.

She got down on all fours to pick them up, then glanced at the clock and cried:

"Mon Dieu! half-past one! To think that I've been here an hour and a half, and I didn't mean to stay five minutes! Oh! what a trouncing I shall get! luckily, I don't care a hang! Adieu, Monsieur What's-your-name! I'm going."

She had already left the salon; I hurried after her and overtook her in the reception room, and, seizing her around the waist, said:

"When shall I see you again?"

"Dame! I don't know; whenever you say."

"Will you dine with me to-morrow?"

"Dine with you? Yes, I'd like to."

"Will you be on Passage Vendôme at five o'clock?"

"No, no! not on Passage Vendôme; that's too near my employer's; someone might see me. Better go where we met first, on Boulevard Bonne-Nouvelle, in front of the Gymnase."

"Very good; at five o'clock?"

"That's too early; half-past five."

"Half-past five it is. Until to-morrow, then!"

"Yes; adieu!"

I kissed her, and she ran down the stairs four at a time. I returned to the salon. Frédérique's face wore a singular expression. She pretended to laugh, but her merriment seemed forced to me.

"Will you forgive me for leaving you alone a moment while I said a word to that young woman?" I said, as I sat down beside her.

"Why, of course! Do friends stand on ceremony with one another?"

"You see, I have taken advantage of the permission you gave me."

"You have done well.—Ha! ha! ha!"

"Why do you laugh?"

"Because you looked so comical, polking with that grisette just now. I had so little expectation of finding a ball in progress here!—Ha! ha! ha! I was speechless."

"By the way, how did you come in?"

"Through the door, naturally; I rang, and your servant admitted me. But you were so hard at work with your dancing that you didn't hear me—apparently.—Ha! ha! ha!"

"Oho! my servant admitted you, did he? I sent him on an errand and forbade him to return before two o'clock. The rascal! he couldn't restrain his curiosity, and he came back before the time."

"I disturbed you—I am very sorry. But it seemed to me that you had had enough; you were on your last legs. Fichtre! what a dancer that damsel is! You and I dance very well together—they took us for artists from the Opéra, you know; but if you had polked with your friend at Monsieur Bocal's ball, they would have carried you both in triumph, like Musard.—Ha! ha! ha!"

"You are in a satirical mood, Frédérique."

"Satirical with you? Bless my soul! it seems to me that that would be very unbecoming of me. You amuse yourself, you enjoy life, you know how to make the most of your best days—and you are quite right! I may envy your happiness, but certainly not laugh at it, I who can no longer do anything but bore myself and other people too."

She said these last words in a most melancholy tone, and her eyes were wet with tears.

"What's that you say about boring other people, Frédérique?" I said, taking her hand. "You didn't make that wicked remark for my benefit, I trust; if you did, it is absolutely false."

She hastily withdrew her hand.

"No, no!" she cried; "I don't know what I am saying, or what I am thinking about! Come, let us talk, my dear friend; who is this girl that I found with you?"

"She—why, she's a grisette; and a very pretty one, too, is she not?"

"Yes, that may be. She lisps when she talks."

"Oh! really now! Once in a while, there's something that makes her voice tremble, it is true, but it isn't at all disagreeable; quite the contrary."

"That's a matter of taste. Some men like women who lisp, just as some like red hair. I have known some who even went so far as to adore women with a limp."

"Oh! how caustic you are to-day, Frédérique!"

"And this beauty, with the quivering voice—how long have you known her?"

"Since day before yesterday."

"Peste! she's quite new! And the acquaintance is already—complete; you have nothing else to wish for?"

"Oh! I beg your pardon. We don't go so fast."

"But I should say that you go at quite a good pace. If the young lady should prove cruel, I should be much surprised."

"I trust that she won't be to-morrow."

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