UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, SAN DIEGO 3 1822 00802 2253 n/ ::K' h. presented to the UNIVERSITY LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA SAN DIEGO by Adm. & Mrs. S.F. Patten THEOPHILE GAUTIER JEAN AND JEANNETTE WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY AD. LALAUZE PREFACE BY LEO CLARETIE PARIS SOCIETE DES BEAUX ARTS LUXEMBOUKG KDITIO)^ Limited to One Thousand Copies for England and America Number J . O^ PREFACE. On the ninth of July, 1850, the newspaper La Presse commenced the publication of a story writ- ten by Theophile Gautier, " Jean and Jeannette, an old-fashioned story." In a memorandum of 1852, in which the author recapitulates his accounts, " Jean and Jeannette " is put down at three hundred francs. Must it be confessed that it was not paid ? Yes, to console the mortifications and moderate the unreasonable- ness of our authors. This little romance is a jewel, engraved with love, and elegantly set by artist fingers. If one had asked him how the idea came to him to write this story, he would have probably replied, " For two reasons : the subject pleased me, and it will please the public." That would have been a correct forecast ; for to the public of that time, as well as of to-day, the eighteenth century was the Yiii JEAN AND JEANNETTE. fashion. The infatuation for it was all the more intense because it was just beginning. It would seem to be a law for epochs to renew their lease of life sixty years after their disappearance. To-day we have returned to the tastes of 1830. " Jean and Jeannette " dates from the time when people were beginning to look with favour on the past century, to study it, to revivify it, and to refix in the public view its image, that had become commonplace. There is a stereotyped idea of the eighteenth century, as there is of Spain, of the Middle Ages, of Italy under the Borgias. The pub- lic itself stereotypes its impressions. The image is often inexact, but it prevails even against truth. It is thus that at the theatre the spectator accepts unwillingly an archaeological or learned restoration which overturns or reverses his preconceived ideas. This period has remained in the public mind somewhat as here sketched by Gautier: " The eighteenth century was never tired of its grotesque figures, its porcelains, its concave mir- rors, its little suppers, its easy conquests, its sprightly couplets, its licentious water-colours, its sofas, its snuff-boxes, its nymphs, its pug-dogs, and its phi- losophers." PEEFACE. iX People returned to it, and the movement has lasted a long time ; it is still far from having stopped. That was the time when Alfred de Mus- set wrote the exquisite nothings of La Mouche; while Paul de Musset dipped his pen in the ink- stand of the younger Crebillon, to describe the lives of the beautiful sinners of the Regency, thus inaugurating a luxuriant, graceful, and erudite lit- erature, which has opened to us every corner of that century, from the boudoirs and the salon to the caf^s and the greenrooms. If the public had a taste for the period of Louis the Fifteenth, Gautier himself did not dislike it. He had a predilection for that century of affecta- tions, and sometimes borrowed its manners, as when he sent to his friends presents wrapped up in courtly madrigals : Vous recevrez pour votre fgte, Si le chemin est diligent, Un globe de rondeur parfaite, Tout 6tam6 de vif argent. Dans sa sphere pure et brillante Le ciel reproduit ses couleiirs; Votre villa blanche et riante S'y mirera parmi les fleurs. X JEAN AND JEANNETTE. Par malheur la conrbe polie Des gens d6forme les reflets ; Mais vous saurez rester jolie Ou les autres deviennent laids.* His first sketches were the illustrations for " Estelle et NSmorin,^^ and for " Paul et Virginie." The playful carelessness and scepticism of the eighteenth century were calculated to seduce those who considered it degrading to be affected by any- thing. The Goncourts have recorded a curious inci- dent regarding Gautier : " Monday, November 9th. — Dinner with Magny. — Thdophile Gautier propounded the theory that a man ought not to show himself affected by any- thing ; that it is shameful and degrading ; that he 1 Upon your birthday you'll receive — If on the way no mishap wait — A globe of perfect rounded form, All silvered o'er with brightest plate. In this pure sphere, so shining bright, The sky rei)aints its hues serene ; Your villa, white and smiling, too. Amid its flowers may there be seen. Unluckily this polished curve Deforms the one who looks therein ; But you will beautiful remain Though others ugly be as sin. PREFACE. XI ought never to let himseK relapse into sentimental- ity in his work ; that sentiment is an inferior side in art and in literature. " ' That strength,' said he, ' which I have, and which has made me suppress feelings of the heart in my books, I have reached by stoicism of the muscles. " ' There is one thing that has served as a lesson to me. At Montfaucon they showed me one day some dogs. It was necessary to walk in the mid- dle of the road, and to hold close to one the skirts of one's overcoat. They were very vigilant watch- dogs, trained to guard the chateau and farms. When they put an ass in the road and let out the dogs on it, the ass was picked clean in five * minutes, and there remained only a carcass. " ' After that they took me to another room full of dogs ; these were extremely timid, grovel- ling around us and licking our boots. " Is this another breed ? " I asked of the man. " No, sir, they are exactly the same ; but the others have been fed on meat, while these have had nothing but sops." " ' That enlightened me. I used to eat six pounds of mutton a day, and go to the gate on Mondays to xii JEAN AND JEANNETTE. await the passing of the workmen so as to fight with them.' " We are familiar with his motto : " Nothing is nothing. And from the first there is nothing. However, everything happens; but that is quite immaterial." He had even rhymed it in an "extra-romantic profession of faith" which appeared in 1831, of which Jules Claretie, in the course of a study on " Petrus Borel," cited several verses, which he attributes to Gerard de Nerval: C'est qu'il faut etre aussi bete a manger du pain, Rentier, horame du jour et non du lendemain, Garde national, souscripteur ou poete, Ou tout autre animal a deux pieds et sans tete, Pour ne pas r^fl^chir qu'il n'est au monde rien Qui vaille seulement les quatre fers d'un chien.^ He jokingly expressed his idea of sentiment in this heartless sally : " I am strong : I can bring down 357 on the 1 One must be so stupid as to eat bread, — Capitalist, man of to-day and not of to-morrow, National guard, subscriber or poet, Or any other animal with two feet and no head, — Not to reflect that there is nothing in the world Worth even the four shoes of a dog. PREFACE. ^^^ Turk's head,i and I make metaphors accordingly; that is all there is to it ! " As for matters of the heart, one can judge the part they played in his mind from this rather ungallant definition: "Women, — they are things that hinder one from smoking." It is in this spirit that he has written " Jean and Jeannette," a romance full of wit, learning, humour, ingenuity, imagination, and fancy, but from which all affection is absent. It is a love-story, but yet without a single page of passion or a glimpse of tender feeling. Gautier describes these lovers to us from the outside; he tells us of what they do, their promenades in the streets, their walks in the woods, the decoration of their little apartment, the fashion of their clothes; but he never analyses their emotions. He assures us that they love one another, but omits telling us how. It is the reverse of classic art. Racine, or even Pradon, searched the heart, scrutinised the soul, described passions by the study of the thoughts, without caring for the exterior of a person, his 1 Probably referring to a strength-tester in the form of a Turk's bead. Xiv JEAN AND JEANNETTE. attitude, or his surroundings. Gautier neglects the inner life, leaving it to us to divine. He has only eyes for gay trimmings, for decorations, for street-corner scenes, for verdure, to which he adds much wit and charming humour ; but do not look for passion, for it is lacking. The declarations of the Vicomte de Candale are witticisms, facile man- nerisms, affectations in which the heart has no part. Once only has Gautier found or simulated feeling ; still he does not attribute it to his chief character. It is a poor devil of a druggist who has noticed, at a ball at the Moulin-Rouge, the charming Marquise de Champros^, disguised as a little seamstress, Jeannette. The marquise, at the moment of selecting a name, perhaps recalled that in this same month of July, 1850, the " Metamorplioses de Jeannette^^ of which Gautier had made a brilliant feuilleton, had been played with success at the Variete. The druggist immediately falls desperately in love with Jeannette ; he can think of nothing but her. He summons up sufficient hardihood to seek her out in her lodging. The scene between this booby, whom love has rendered more boorish, and the dainty lace-maker is one of the most delightful. It is the PREFACE. XV only scene in the whole romance where pure pas- sion speaks without artificiality. " No, Mile. Jeannette, I was not passing by, as I told you just now. I have come expressly with my mind fully made up. I suffer too much from not seeing you. It is the ball at the Moulin- Rouge that has caused it all. You were so pretty that evening, so fine, so smart-looking, that I lost my heart immediately. Up to the present I have had only likings, but now it is love in earnest. I know it from what I suffer. I have lost all desire to eat, to drink, or to sleep, much as I wish to sleep that I might dream of you. And it would always be thus. Before knowing you, I passed for a man of intelligence among my circle, — one who did not lack wit ; for my jokes were repeated from the Rue de la Yerrerie to the Rue des Yieilles- Audriettes. Now I cannot weigh correctly ; I weigh everything. I make up packages that un- roll ; I give vanilla for cinnamon, and am con- stantly mistaking the syrups. I can no longer distinguish an alkali from an acid, and lately I spoiled a tincture of sunflower in which I used to excel. I used to have a joke or something droll to say to customers or to young girls, but it is no Xvi JEAN AND JEANNETTE. longer so. I have become awkward, stupid, and quite out of sorts : all of which proves, mademoi- selle, that I love you. In short, it is not natural, and I am sure the spiteful little god has had something to do with it." Under his strange pharmaceutical terms one feels there is sincerity, and that love among the marshmallow flowers is more touching than the pompous little posies of the vicomte. As for the rest, everything takes place amidst agreeable descriptions of decorations, of styles, of scenes, and witticisms, imitation paintings, and polite affectations. All the personages practise, like their author, the nil admirari, which is pushed to the point of that amusing humour which in- spired the scene in the old Breton castle. In the old castle of Madame de Kerkaradec the visitors' bell has not sounded for fifteen years; but this day it rings four times in succession, and each time a traveller presents himself, asking for lodgings, under the pretext that his carriage has broken down. The old dowager receives without emotion these unexpected visitors, and contents herself with saying, with an accent of profound jubilation: PEEFACE. XVll " Heaven did not intend that I should die with- out once more playing a game of whist. Here are four of us, — the needed number ; Providence is good ! " They are never more moved nor more startled ; if the heavens should fall on them, they would say, " God bless you ! " This secret affinity between the period and the man explains the great liking Gautier has shown for the eighteenth century, which he has studied thoroughly and knows to a miracle. In this little romance the whole storehouse has been used, and Gautier has drawn upon it with a free hand: the toilet of a young widow, seated before her dressing-table ; the love-lorn exclama- tions of the little abb^ ; the coaches in the crowded streets, — the only thiug wanting is the tones of a harpsichord. The recital is interspersed with the familiar forms that usually frequented the Paris of that period: Guimard and her ostentatious suppers, Rameau and his music, Chardin and his pictures, Clodion and his statuettes, Jean Jacques Rousseau, behind whom smiles the gracious physiognomy of Mile. Gallet, Lancret with his shepherdesses in xviii JEAN AND JEANNETTE. satin, Moncade and his gallant adventures, and all that " clique encydopedique^' and all the artificers of the period, from Germain, the silversmith, to Payot, the lace-maker. As for the little pavilion rendezvous, where Rosette goes twice vainly in search of Candale, does it not seem as if you have already met there Valmont and the Marchioness of Mcrteuil, who introduced Laclos there ? When the country shepherdess, with her mop of tangled tow, her patched skirts, has a complexion speckled like a trout, she givts us the measure of the knowledge of her portrait painter. He bor- rows here from the Abb^ Raynal a neologism, which he had applied to the cracked porcelain, and which had not met with much favour. His information as well as his memory was enormous. How many times, relates Maxime du Camp, did his friends, uncertain on some point of history, of language, of geography, of anatomy, or art, ad- dress themselves to him and receive satisfactory answers immediately! They used to say, " It is only necessary to con- sult Gautier." The man was a living encyclopedia. Apropos of this is a curious anecdote which Gautier frequently related : PREFACE. XIX It was at a hospitable chateau in the country, where a select group of artists and savants gath- ered each summer. The park was traversed by a fish- pond, in which were kept some ancient carp, with rings in their gills, — venerable fiancees of time. One day the whim seized one of the guests to eat one of the carp for his breakfast. Unaccustomed for a hundred years to the fear of nets, besides being nearly blind, the oldest allowed himself to be caught, and was immedi- ately carried to the kitchen. But, a few moments later, the court of the chateau was filled with scullions, crying out with affright, and showing signs of the most abject terror. The head cook appeared, looking like a corpse, his face greatly disturbed, his hands trem- bling, and as in ^^Biquet a la Houppe^^ an extraor- dinary excitement was manifest throughout the basement, where the great cooking ranges were gleaming. Every one ran up, forming a group around the chef, who related that the carp, as soon as it was put into the broiler, uttered cries fit to break one's heart, and that he never heard such heartrending sounds. The assistants, who had collected around their master, confirmed his XX JEAN AND JEANNETTE. story, and all declared they would rather give up their places than have anything to do with cooking such an extraordinary fish. " Extraordinary ? " said Gautier. " By no means ! All fish cry out when they are cooked ; that carp had a stronger voice than the others, that is all." To this remark of the poet the savants demurred, saying that it was some mystification or acoustic illusion which had deceived the cooks, because it is well known and well established that fish have no vocal organs. " That fact," concluded they, " is taught in even the smallest and most elementary treatises on natural history. " Savantissimi doctores^^ said Gautier, " it is the naturalists who make natural history ! " " But how can fish cry out unless they have vocal organs?" " They have them, " replied he ; " that is where you are mistaken." And thereupon he began to give the assembly such a lesson on ichthyology, with that power of realisation which he possessed, that it seemed as if all the fish of all the rivers and oceans protested with him against the igno- rance and malevolence of the savants. He detailed, PREFACE. XXI dissected, anatomised the smallest fibres of their vocal organisms. He made them vibrate, sing, cry, howl, murmur, according to the passions which animated them, — anger, joy, despair, grief, or pleasure. He unveiled their mysterious life, their loves, their wars, and arriving at last at the abominable torment man inflicted on them in hav- ing them cooked alive, he painted them in such terms that the poor scullions burst into tears, and the savants themselves could not touch fish for a week, so that it was no longer served at table. The next day after the adventure, one of the savants, who had returned to Paris, wrote to him : " My dear friend, I have passed the night in verifying your assertions ; they are all wonderfully exact. It is you who are the savant ; we are the poets." If one had further pressed the good Theophile to tell how the idea of his old-fashioned love-story came to him, it is not difficult to surmise that he would have designated the source as Marivaux's plays, in that spirited Danish comedy the " Jeu de r Amour et du Hasard.''^ The recollection of Marivaux haunts one in this romance, where Jean and Jeannette, both of noble Xxii JEAN AND JEANNETTE. condition, love under borrowed garb, each believing the other to be of plebeian estate, as Dorante loved Sylvia in the long, coarse coat of the stable-boy Bourguignon. This disguise served to make them know each other better. The Marquise de Charapros^ spoke from experi- ence, as Sylvia had spoken before : " In the world dominated by fashion and frivol- ity, in the midst of a whirlpool of pleasures, we should not have been able to reveal to each other our true characters. We should have passed by with- out understanding one another. Notwithstanding your reputation as a fop and lady-killer, you are affectionate and frank. Let us tell no one of it, but always be for each other simple Jean and Jeannette." This is how Justine, whom Marivaux would certainly have introduced into one of his comedies under the name of Lisette, expresses herself : " I know my own value, and M. de Marivaux has put in his pieces for the Theatre Fran^ais, soubrettes who are not my equals." One recalls the mannerism of Dorante and Sylvia in their disguise : " Dorante. — You have a very distinguished air. Some- times one is well-born without knowing it. PREFACE. XXlll " Sylvia. — Ha, ha, ha ! I would thank you for your praise, if my mother did not bear the expense for it." Gautier so far remembers the passage that he repeats the thought twice within a few pages : " As for Monsieur Jean, he had beneath his plain and neat habiliments an air of distinction which made one doubt the virtue of his mother ; for it was difficult to suppose that such an Adonis could come of provincial stock, and it must have been that some fine gentleman, in passing by, had made love to Madame Jean." And later, when Candale is discovered, he speaks to the false Jeannette as did Bourguignon to the false Lisette : " You are a queen by your virtue. And besides, from the manners and morals now in vogue, no one is sure of the blood which he has in his veins." " — Oh, for pity's sake, Candale, do not calmnni- ate my mother ! " Listen to the Marquise de Champrose planning her scheme so as to make the most of it : " She took the notion, after having commenced this in- trigue, to get from it all there was in it. She had this ambition, since she had fallen into the roman- Xxiv JEAN AND JEANNETTE. tic idea of being loved for herself, of owing only to her natural cluirnis a triumph which she could so easily have won with her title, her wealth, and her high position." Say whether the marquise was not a near rela- tive to Sylvia, who declares : " Sylvia. — He thinks he is betraying his fortune and his birth ; this is a grave subject for reflection. I shall be delighted to triumph ; but I must win my victory, and not have him give it to me. I want a struggle between love and reason. " Marie. — And may reason lose ! " M. Orgox. — That is to say, you wish that he should feel the full extent of the impertinence he will think he is committing. What insatiable vanity of self-love I " Sylvia exclaims, "Ah! I see clearly into my own heart! I had great need that it should be Dorante." And Jeannette, with less delicacy, acumen, and vivacity, makes the commentary on that celebrated exclamation : "She was well satisfied with the perspicacity of her choice ; she loved her blood for not being deceived, and paid a compliment to her heart for not having aided in that plebeian caprice." What is there in this romantic story, besides PREFACE. XXV these erudite reminiscences ? The man who con- fessed one day to Maxime du Camp, " I was born romantic," would have been utterly disgusted if he had not introduced a touch of romanticism into his little love-story, — so there it is. He had declared elsewhere, " Since 1833, 1 have buried the Middle Ages ; " not so deeply, however, but that from time to time he could make exhuma- tions. So he took great care to go post-haste to the ends of Brittany in order to land us before the old castle of Kerkaradec, which is a joy to him to describe ; " The manor of Kerkaradec, an old ruin which has come down to us from barbaric times, is a Gothic fortress with walls fifteen feet in thickness, in which the windows form deep recesses ; with battlements, spy-holes, protecting galleries, loop- holes ; with drawbridge and portcullis, and all such feudal apparatus. Four turrets with roofs like pepper-boxes flank the angles, and are sur- mounted by swallow-tail weathercocks, tarnished by the wind from the sea, which breaks on the rocks at the foot of the castle walls, and whose monotonous and tiresome moan may be heard night and day. Clouds of noisy martins circle around XXVi JEAN AND JEANNETTE. this ancient remnant of gentility, striving to im- part a touch of life to its walls blackened by centuries." Is there still more? "I am corrupted with modernisms," said Gautier. A few of these ap- pear in " Jean and Jeannette," where one is sur- prised to already come across the negro of the Porte Saint Denis with his clock in his stomach, or words who.se youthfulness takes away all idea of imitation, such as a " superlieocantieux " tone, or a coach which had become a "hack," or a flutist who makes " quacks." But in spite of these there are delightful pages, — delicate and exquisite, — which make one forget some evidences of careless haste. Certain pas- sages seem written a little too quickly, with the habit of a journalist whose work is printed merely by measure, and who said, " The odour of printing- ink is the only thing that makes me move." This precipitation, far from injuring, was useful to him, since it did not hinder him from writing these brilliant and — as he himself called those of Flaubert — "truculent" pages. One forgets the traces of haste or of bad taste, the " sylphs of the air flogged by the coachmen's whips," the violinist PKEFACE. XXVii " scraping the guts of his instrument," or " Rosette tracing hieroglyphic letters which she could have written better by dipping the end of her toe in the ink." We cannot, however, pass by without condemna- tion some awkwardness of style and infelicity of expression. More than once, in writing "Jean and Jean- nette," the chiseller of " Camees" gave place to the prolix journalist, who dreams of installing himself on the ground floor of some popular jour- nal and there stretching one of those immense spider's webs that they call a " roman-feu{Ueto7i" ^ Emile Bergerat has told us what a gigantic and frightful feuiUeton we should have had if the au- thor had realised his dreams of a worn-out inva- lid, when he projected utilising the memoranda and studies of his friend Clermont Ganneau to write the legend of " Prince des Haschischins " with all its details ; a colossal and foolish un- dertaking of a kind with " VHistoire de France d partir de Teutoboehus " by Anatole France's little Fontanet. " I would have as many sec- retaries as the old scheik counted of feidawi or 1 The bottom part of a newspaper, reserved for continued storiea. Xxviii JEAN AND JEANNETTE. initiate, and we would pile the work on to you, Nono and I, until you cried for mercy. But we would make you millionaires. They would write everywhere here, — in the attic, in the kitchen, on the stairs, in the cellar, near the furnace, — ac- cording to temperament. In the summer I would have immense tables set up in the garden, and hammocks hung under the trees for the quarter- hour of rest. Refreshments, alternating with light meals, would be served among these green tables ; and when evening came, from every corner or- chestras would perform most entrancing music to the sound of gentle cascades. There should be yachts and canoes and gondolas moored to the railings, in the moonlight, for those who wished to smoke and enjoy the fresh air or the water; and for the voluptuaries I would buy of Rothschild the island that lies opposite. " Nono and I would remain in the centre, within reach of the voice, like a dictionary at one's hand, he for scientific research, I for inventions, for effects, and for technical words, so that the most ignorant would never be embarrassed. " Thursdays and Sundays we would let off fire- works, and censers of hemp powder would be of- PREFACE. XXIX fered to those who had charge of the description of visions, ecstasies, and hallucinations, and who wished to work according to nature. All day the avenue would be filled with couriers in different colours, carrying copy and bringing back proofs, and brandishing in the breeze streamers announc- ing the adventures to be contained in the feuilleton of the day." Another thing that one must admire in "Jean and Jeannette " is its marvellous limpidity of style, which resembles water checkered and irradiated by the reflections of a prism. It is the astonishing facility of adaptability which allows Gautier to dip his pen in the inkstand of Dorat and of C re- billon the younger, of Lesage and Marivaux, to transcribe ingenious imitations from them: " Abb^, you are an intolerable barbarian ! I am dying, and you insult me with pointblank com- pliments on my freshness and my air of health. Go on ; tell me at once that I am plump and ruddy ; compare me with some mythological divin- ity on the ceiling, with cheeks like apples and the figure of a nurse ! " There are felicities in style : one is pleased with the platitude of Mile. Guimard, since it gave us XXX JEAN AND JEANNETTE. that delicious pastel, of which I can reproduce the last sentence : " Her audacious decolletage showed only a sweet, childlike suggestion of womanly form which con- vinced one that nothing could be more beautiful." One is stupefied by the sparkling vocabulary of this nabob in words, " this sultan of epithets," who found fault with the language of the seven- teenth century for being too poor, and who said to Renan, " I defy you to write the article which I am going to write Tuesday, on Baudry, with words of the seventeenth century ! " Not that he had neither turgidity nor bombast. He was pitiless towards the timorous enemies of the proper word. In " Hernani " the classicists protest against the word " midnight : " " Don Carlos. — What o'clock is it? " RiCARDO. — Midnight." He laughingly proposed a variation, which had been used almost literally by Andre Chenier : " Don Carlos. — On what point of the enamel rests the foot of the hour ? " RicARDo — In its flight it touches the tweKth resting- place." PREFACE. XXXI But what one must admire above all is his fas- cinating talent as colourist, where his pen becomes a brush : " Pen Pictures," as he once wrote at the head of one of his literary collections. In truth, it is in this that he excels. He knows how to see, and to make others see. He has senses rather than sentiments. He has remained the pupil of the painter Rioult. One of his familiar metaphors for saying that he was going to work was, " I am going to put black on white." He loved to stop before an object of art, to make it again, so to speak, with his pen, adding to it with his impressions rare tints and unlooked-for details. It was like a new creation. The object furnished him the first idea, which he chiselled in his turn, working it up, and making it his own. Whether he describes a caleche of pale lilac decorated by Martin, silver vases engraved by Germain, a group of bronze by Clodion, or the Nymph Syrinx pursued by the great god Pan, he shows a worship of line, of contour, of colouring. It is like a glass focussed on nature and on the street-corners. He has col- lected thus a charming gallery of landscapes, of genre miniatures, of views, of subjects, varied and Xxxii JEAN AND JEANNETTE. picturesque as the water-colour sketches in a tour- ist's album : " This interior, which the painter Chardin — so justly praised by M. Diderot — would have been delighted to reproduce, formed, with its gray wood- work, its floor covered by a worn carpet, its man- telpiece of imitation marble surmounted by a camaieu, its window of narrow panes, some of which had a bull's-eye in the middle, the jar of Vincennes faience in which a flower was placed, its sober, tranquil light discreetly concentrated on the work-table, a setting most favourable to beauty." That is the little chamber as painted by Chardin. Here is the window : " The window, for this had been the chamber of a veritable grisette, was sur- rounded by a frame of sweet peas, of convolvulus, and of nasturtiums, some of them in flower, others about to be, or waiting to climb higher with their heart-shaped leaves, and to twine their tendrils about the threads stretched for them by some thoughtful hand." The description evokes in one's mind a concrete and complete vision ; he sees with the inward eyes what he has described. It might be said that he PREFACE. XXXlll paints after nature, so intense, luminous, and pre- cise is the picture evoked. They are beautiful panels. "The farmhouses with their rustic roofs, the windmills turning their languid wings, the little tea-gardens with their laughter and singing, ani- mated the landscape, which, while neither wild nor picturesque, was not wanting in pretty de- tails and unexpected charms." And this delicious sketch : "The White Rabbit Inn made a fairly good figure at the side of the road. Its sign, known from time immemorial, had been daubed by a very distant relative of Apelles, on both sides of a plate of sheet iron, which swung in the wind, shaded by a long branch of pine ; but the innkeeper, not quite sure of the talent of the artist, and doubting the fidelity of the representation of the white rabbit, had judged it best to establish in a cage a living sign, which the most uncultivated could not mis- take. An enormous white rabbit, with dispropor- tionate ears and great red eyes, worked its chops, nibbling at a carrot, side by side with its fallacious image, which one might have taken for either a horse, a deer, or an elephant. XXXIV JEAN AND JEANNETTE. " The front of the White Rabbit Inn was illu- minated, like the complexion of a drinker, with a joyous coat of red, which indicated to the worship- pers of the bottle a temple, or at least a chapel of Bacchus. " Upon the roof of mossy old tiles, where a few leeks had flourished, wandered pigeons of all col- ours, — poor birds of Venus, never dreaming of the broiler and green peas, and making love as if the spit were not ceaselessly turning in the kitchen. " The fowls in the back yard showed the same thoughtlessness, although some cook's helper, in his white frock and knit cap, with his cleaver at his side, would saunter from time to time into the poultry-yard and seize one by the wing, notwith- standing its cries ; for the tavern had many cus- tomers, and the bluish spiral of smoke from its chimney could be seen rising ceaselessly against the background of verdure. "Around the house stretched trellises, forming little arbours, covered with hop and Virginia creep- ers, climbing roses and honeysuckle. It was rustic and charming as possible. " The perfume of flowers neutralised the more PREFACE. XXXV substantial but less sweet odours from the kitchen, and a rose-leaf fell into a glass, as if to mingle Venus with Bacchus." Let us enter the house of the druggist, who opens his door to us : "I place the Silver Mortar at your feet, divine Jeannette, with its oak counters, its shining scales, its labelled porcelain pots, its shelves and drawers filled with cochineal and saffron and mastic, with ultramarine, dragon's-blood, and bezoar, gum-traga- canth, sandalwood, and cinnamon, and with all the aromatic spices of India, as precious as gold." One might fill an album with these delicious sketches: the carriage of Rosette the danseuse, the ball at the Moulin - Rouge, and the poetic promenade of the lovers in the woods at dawn, after the dance, — for which he borrowed this time the brush of Lancret: " These loving groups, scattered here and there along the narrow paths, would have made a most charming subject for the brush of M. Lancret, painter of lovers' fetes. The petticoats of silk and pekin of brilliant colours, trailing over the grass; the corsages which, without being cut with the noble impudence of the women of the court, left one to XXXvi JEAN AND JEANNETTE. perceive or divine the new-born charms already ripe for love ; the arms thrown lightly about waists, and heads so near together under pretext of a whisper — the lips addressing to the cheek confidences intended for the ear ; all this invited the pencil of an artist accustomed to sacrifice to the Graces, and formed an ensemble as agreeable to the eye as to the heart. " A little behind walked groups of parents and middle-aged persons : the papas in long-taUed coats with large, bright buttons, with an air of good- fellowship, and leaning heavily on a cane with a raven' s-beak handle, while their hats were set firmly on their heads ; the mammas, fat and ruddy, still attractive, dressed in their enlarged wedding dresses of gay flowered stuffs, as was the fashion at the begimiing of the reign. They listened smil- ingly to the broad jokes of their companions, keep- ing careful watch at the same time over their daughters, however sure they were of the mod- esty of their children. These groups, to which the painter might have given warmer and riper tones, formed a most harmonious background for the fresh and sparkling youth which the dawn was bathing in her roseate light. PREFACE. XXXvii " M. Lancret would assuredly have put Jean and Jeannette in the centre of the composition. To protect herself from the morning dampness, Jean- nette had flung over her shoulders the cloak of shot-coloured silk, but the garment had slipped down, and as she bent her head the white and polished nape of her neck could be seen where several little curls nestled in spite of the steel comb which held the knot of her hair. She held herself closely pressed against Monsieur Jean to avoid the dew - spangled branches, which shed pearls over her dress and seemed to wish to bar her passage and keep her longer amongst them- One has rarely seen such beautiful panels, depicted with a precision so true, a realism so delightful, a fidelity so astonishing that one really sees the groups that served as models. It is by this marvellous and powerful faculty of evocation, by this ingenious facility of painting the image in its least details, — thanks also to his subtle quali- ties of style, — that Th^ophile Gautier will remain a master among our descriptive writers, a pen- painter, an artist who has given to us dolorous sighs when it became necessary for him to write XXXVlll JEAN AND JEANNETTE. by the line for the bourgeois, and, as he said, "to suppress his sculptural and creative side." One can easily imagine the pleasure an artist must feel in interpreting by illustration subjects which the text itself so strongly suggests. To gain an idea of it, one has only to glance over the de- lightful pages in which the eminent illustrator Lalauze has rendered visible the principal scenes in " Jean and Jeannette." With dexterity and variety, well supplemented by a broad erudition and an exact knowledge of surroundings, his pencil has caused the picturesque Paris of the joyous eight- eenth century to live again for us, — her salons, her street-corners, her boudoirs, and her caf^s. With the Marquise de Champrose we descend the stair- case of the Opera, which is brilliant with the ornate tunics of the noblemen, and the satin petticoats of the women of the court. We penetrate into the H6tel de Champros^ ; our indiscretion leads us even to the bathing-hall, where the marquise leaves the alabaster basin in the elegant rotunda where a refreshing jet of water is thrown from a bronze monster mouth between the finely chiselled marble arches. We follow her to her chamber, where her maid places the last trinkets in her hair, with PREFACE. XXXIX her titled adorers about her, while the little abbd flutes his honeyed compliments, and the monkey gambols over the velvet carpet. We listen to the marquise's dolorous complaints to her maid, of her terrible ennui, and watch as she throws her- self on her reclining-chair of gilded wood, in the midst of the rich adornment of her boudoir with its wood carvings, its fine frames of shell designs, and coquettish Boule cabinets. Then we enter another world, — that of the demi- monde of actresses, and we seat ourselves at one of Mile. Guimard's gay supper parties, while the com- plaisant soubrettes pour champagne and tokay for sympathetic couples under the brilliant lights from the great bronze candelabra chiselled by Clodion ; we go with the jealous Rosette into the myste- rious little pavilion which sheltered the ephemeral loves of the Vicomte de Candale, where everything breathes of voluptuousness, comfort, and wealth, from the tapestries of mythological subjects, the copies of antique statues, to the rich, softly col- oured carpets, and the great hospitable sofas. The whim of the pretended Jeannette leads us into the streets, — those picturesque streets lined by low houses with steep-sloping roofs and wide, Xl JEAN AND JEANNETTE. heavily moulded doors, and where passed and re- passed spacious coaches decorated with gold, and the vendor of lemonade pushed his cask, mounted on a wheelbarrow, — the wheelbarrow of the vine- gar-maker. Mounting the white wooden staircase, we come into the modest little chamber where the marquise plays the r61e of a lace-maker, — before her bed hung with Indian calico, her brass-ornamented chest of drawers, and her window, enlivened by a pot of geranium and a bird in a cage, — some cousin of Jean Jacques Rousseau's canary. The dulcimers and the fifes resound on the plat- form under the luminous torches, above the couples who flit through the minuet and gavotte, — it is the ball at the Moulin-Rouge, where the sons of the shopkeepers pay their court to the fair ones of the faubourgs. Still further in the distance, on the village roadway in the environs of Paris, stands the little White Rabbit Inn, with its weather-worn front, its narrow-paned windows, its high gable covered with moss-grown thatch, where lovers come on donkey-back to eat fricassees under its flowery trellises. But it is necessary to examine for oneself the PREFACE. xli exquisite engravings in which the artist has ren- dered, in the most piquant fashion, with a rare happiness of expression, a great variety of figures, etched with a subtle delicacy and an ever-sustained gracefulness, — the triple attraction, like the triple character of this charming romance, which is a seductive restoration of three divisions of old society, — the nobility, the demi-monde, and the humbly born. One cannot praise too much M. Lalauze's intelli- gence and the skill which he has displayed in his interpretation. He has produced a strongly orig- inal work; the series of engravings does not merely complete the text, — it is one beautiful work of art by the side of another. Leo Claretie. VillenneSf August 1, 1894. CHAPTER I. HE Marquise de Champros^ is at her toilet, patient under the fingers of her maids, who are toiling at the elaborate construction, which nears completion. The puffs of swan's-down let fall a cloud of powder a la mareehale, from which the marquise protects her eyes by hiding her charming face in an extinguisher of apple green morocco, to the great despair of Monsieur I'Abbe, who protests 43 44 JEAN AND JEANNETTB. against this eclipse. At last the operation is finished. The light auburn hair of the marquise is turned back and piled on top of her head, the structure powdered so heavily over each ripple that the natural colour of the hair is lost under the white, which harmonises so perfectly with the creamy tones of her flesh. A long lock of hair, loosely curled, falls down her neck, and plays upon her slightly exposed bosom. Madame de Champros^ lowers the fatal extin- guisher, and her lovely face, fresh as a Burgundy rose, appears in all its beauty. The abb^ does not feel himself at ease. He rises abruptly from the couch, where he had been stretched at his leisure, and wanders aimlessly about the chamber. In his excitement, he knocks against the furni- ture, overturns the china, inconveniences the maids, and causes madame's little dog to yelp and the monkey to scream with fright at the disturbance he creates. He throws into a corner the unlucky leather head-covering, which he desig- nates the extinguisher of the graces, and places himself in a good position to view the charms of the marquise. JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 45 "Of a truth, marquise," said the abbe, in his enthusiasm, " that coiffure suits you in a ravishing fashion; the loves have tinted your cheeks, and your eyes are to-day wonderfully luminous." «Do you think so, abb^?" replied the mar- quise, simpering, and throwing a glance at herself in the lace-draped glass hanging above her toilet- table. "Nevertheless, I have passed a frightful night, and have a horrible headache." " I could wish the baroness many of these head- aches, which bring roses to her cheeks and render her fresher than Hebe. True headache dulls the eye and makes the complexion yellow as a quince ; and so, madame, on the contrary, I insist that you have none." " Very well, so be it ! I have not had a head- ache, but the blues." "By the cherry of your lips, by the roses of your cheeks, by the limpid brilHancy of your eyes, I hold that you are well, and that your blues are purely imaginary." "Abb^, you are an intolerable barbarian! I am dying, and you insult me with pointblank com- plunents on my freshness and my air of health. Go on; tell me at once that I am plump and 46 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. i I ruddy. Compare me with some mythological , divinity on the ceiling, with cheeks like red ap- ^ pies, and the bosom of a nurse." "j " There ! there ! marquise, don't get into a tem- \ per. I have misunderstood your symptoms — in I short, I perceive that you have a worn and -^ fatigued air, as of the effects of a ball. Come, ^ now ; hold out your little white hand, that I may \ feel your pulse. I flatter myself that I am some- what of a physician, and I give advice that is ■). not to be despised." ' * With a languishing air, in utter contrast with ■ the perfect tints of her complexion, Madame de Champrose extended to the abb^, who took it delicately between his thumb and forefinger, a beautifully rounded arm emerging from a heavy fall of lace. The abb^ appeared to listen, and count the pulsations with profound attention, and if his amiable, plump face, where laughter hid itself in dimples, was able to assume a grave expression, it was most serious at this moment. The marquise looked at him with assumed agi- tation, holding her breath with the air of a person waiting for her doom. JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 47 " Are you convinced now ? " cried she, seeing a look of compunction on the abba's face. "Hum! hum!" replied the abbe, "this pulse tells nothing good; this pretty blue vein jumps about under my finger like ^ the devil." " Can I be seriously ill ? " inquired the marquise. " Oh, not at all," replied the abbe, in a reassur- ing tone. " 1 do not discover any symptoms of a dangerous nature, such as cold, fever, inflammation of the lungs, or a disease which might make Tron- chin or Borden necessary, but I strongly suspect you of some moral illness." " Moral ! That is it !" cried the marquise, en- chanted at being so well understood. " There is, underneath, some heart affection," continued the abb^, "and Cupid has been up to his pranks; that mischievous little god does not always respect duchesses." At this assertion Madame de Champros^ assumed a supremely disdainful air, and repHed to the abbe : " Heartache ! for shame ! Do you take me for one of the lower orders ? Do I look like an amorous grisette ? " " It was only a supposition ; I withdraw it." > Fouls capricant or caprisant : a caprizant or goat-leap pulse. 48 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. " I fear you have been in bad company of late, and cultivate the bourgeois, to accuse me of such things," retorted the marquise. " Perhaps widowhood weighs upon you, and you are suffering from the melancholy which arises from being alone in the evening in a vast residence ? " " Decidedly your wit is on the decline, abb^," said the marquise, breaking into a clear and rip- pling laugh, silvery sweet, yet full of the frank insolence of the grande dame. " What is the matter with you, then, if my diagnosis deceives me, and my science is at fault ? " " I am bored," replied the marquise, with a languid air, and throwing herself back in her armchair. At this word, the face of the abb^ assumed an expression of extreme astonishment, his dimples disappeared, and his eyes remained fixed on those of Madame de Champrose with an expression of profound consternation and interrogation. The eighteenth century was never bored, with its gro- tesques, its porcelains, its hollowed^ pier-glasses, its little suppers, its easy conquests, its sprightly couplets, its licentious sketches, its sofas, its snuff- 1 Tarabiscotis : provided with little cavities which separate one moulding from another. JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 49 boxes, its nymphs, its pug-dogs, and its philoso- phers. It had no time to be sad, this joyous eight- eenth century; thus the words of the marquise threw the abbe into consternation, and appeared to him incomprehensible. " When a marquise with an income of 200,000 livres, charming, and a widow at eighteen of such a husband," said the abbd, pointing at an oval pastel, where, under the trappings of the god Mars, grinned a yellow, withered, wrinkled sexagenarian, " says she is bored, it lacks all probability." " That is, nevertheless — " " You, marquise, whose existence flows amidst laughter, play, and pleasures — you bored ! " " But what can I do to get out of such a mel- ancholy state ? " demanded the duchess. " If you change your monkey for a marmoset, and your pug for a lap-dog — " " That gives me an idea ! I will try it, but I am afraid it will hardly suffice — " " In your place," continued the abb^, " I should change the colour of this boudoir; the blue has something too languorous about it, and entices to reverie. A gayer colour would suit the condition of your mind better, — rose tendre, for instance." 60 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. " Yes, rose tendre, and frosted with silver ; that would draw me away a little from my sombre thoughts. I will send for my upholsterer. But in the meantime, discover something that will amuse me." " Shall I read to you ? The table is covered with pamphlets, books, and ' anas ' of all sorts of authors ; not that I care the least for these scrib- blers, these quill-drivers, but sometimes, among the absurdities which these people draw from their misshapen craniums, there are to be found droller- ies at which one can laugh immoderately. " Behold ^Le G-relot^' 'X '' Ecumoire^ ' Les Matins de Cytliere^ " said the abbe, turning over the volumes. " Would it amuse you to listen to the conversation of the fairy Moustache (changed into a mole by the jealousy of the fairy Jonquille), enumerating to Tanzai and to Neadarn^ the per- fections of Prince Cormoran, her lover ? It is a charming passage." The marquise nodded acquiescence, settled herself in her easy chair, stretched out upon a footstool her tiny feet, encased in slippers a Chinese woman would not have found too large, and appeared to resign herself to listening to this chef-d^oeuvre. JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 51 The abb^ commenced reading the panegyric of Cormoran, by Moustache, in an affected and pomp- ous manner : " ' He was the most beautiful dancer in the world ; no one could bow with more grace. He guessed all enigmas, played all games well, those that demanded strength as well as those of skill, from bagatelle to football. His countenance was charming, and packed with the rarest and most charming expressions. He also possessed a delight- ful voice, and could accompany himself upon all sorts of musical instruments. Besides the talents which I have enumerated, he wrote pretty verses. His conversation, gay or grave, satisfied equally by its grace and its solidity. Austere with the prude, free with the coquette, melancholy with the tender, there was not at the court a woman who was not roused to interest in him. The superiority of his wit did not render him unsociable ; with great tact he adjusted himself to every one. He was master, above all, of a brilliant wit, that overcame all adversaries; and al- though this shy, curious being, entitled good sense, did not always trouble himself to be civil in what he said, the undeniable grace of his conversation caused him to be no loser by it; and but for this airy grace, his elaborately chosen words and marvellous phraseology might have hid- den the sound good sense of the man from his most ardent followers, and would have appeared nauseously insipid.' " An imperceptible yawn, smothered out of polite- ness, contracted Madame de Champrose's lips, which 52 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. at first had been full of smiles at the amiable quali- ties of Cormoran. " ' In short,' " continued the abb6, " ' reason is vulgar ; she appears always unveiled. She fears to drown herself in cheerfulness, and does not hesitate to take a step backward when an originally turned thought presents itself, or when a brilliant imagination takes possession of her heart. After all, if she triumphs, it is in a fashion so insulting to human- ity that the best bred self-respect finds so much discredit in it, loses in it so much of its grace, takes on such a bad opinion of itself, that it would have to be very ridiculous, not to fly in its face.' " " Thanks, abbe," said the marquise, showing all her white teeth in a coquettish yawn ; " what you are reading is without doubt the most charming tale in the world, but I do not understand a word of it, and I do not care to take the trouble to com- prehend it." The volume was replaced upon the table, and visitors were announced, among them the little Chevalier de Verteuil, the big Commander de Livry, the financier Bafogne, a Midas who had not the ass's ears, however much he merited them, and who changed into gold everything that he touched. They all agreed in the opinion that JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 63 Madame de Champrose's eyes looked slightly fa- tigued, and that her manner was restless, although she was as bewitching as ever ; only the little chev- alier protested that it was a disgrace to the youth of France that a charming marquise should be dying of ennui in the midst of the joyous reign of Louis XV., the well-beloved. It was decided that a little walk would be bene- ficial, and that the air of the boudoir, heavy with the perfume of amber, caused nervousness, brought on the blues, and invested mere nothings with pecu- liarities, which the fresh air would infallibly dis- sipate. The chevalier promised to be the merriest in the company; the commander swore he would not allude to his conquests; Bafogne declared he would understand the puns of the chevalier, if they were only repeated three times. As for the abb^, an engagement called him elsewhere. He was to rejoin them at the guard-house of the swing- bridge, where they would dine together on return- ing from the Cours-la-Reine, before going to the Opdra. No sooner was it suggested than it was accom- plished. The four cream-coloured horses were har- 54 JEAN AND JEANNETTE, nessed to the soft lilac-coloured caleche, varnished by Martin, which in its shape represented the shell of Venus. The languishing beauty shone resplendent on the white velvet background of her cushions. The chev- alier said extraordinary things in the most piquant terms, and with marvellously unexpected turnings ; he dissected anybody and everybody, the court and the city ; related scandalous stories and their de- tails in an incredibly vivacious manner, and just enough veiled to prevent the modesty of the mar- quise from seeking refuge behind her fan. The commandant began a tale of one of his intrigues with a young lady of the ballet,^ but stopped at the right moment. The financier was only sufficiently stupid to exert himself a little more than usual. The coachman passed all carriages with the su- preme impertinence of a servant knowing his value to his masters, and feeling himself a member of a great and fashionable household. All went de- lightfully. The guard surpassed himself in his cooking ; the dishes were pronounced exquisite, and the wines of the choicest, by the abb6, who 1 Demoiselle (V espalier : one of the dancers who kept close to the scenery, not in the front row. JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 55 prided himself even more on his reputation as a gourmet than on his devotion to religion. At the Op^ra " Les Indes G-alantes " was sung with less robustness than usually, thanks to the criticisms of Jean Jacques Rousseau, a citizen of Geneva, who had ridiculed in his writings le urlo francese ; ^ and a ballet was performed, in which the sentiment of love was depicted by the most volup- tuous though decent attitudes, which cast a soft languor into the soul, reaching it by way of the eyes. Yet, in spite of all this, when Madame de Champros^ returned to her h8tel late in the evening, she still felt bored to death ! Was it that the marquise possessed a peevish and sullen disposition, looking upon life cross- grained, and imagining in solitude lugubrious vis- ions ? One could not be better born than she, and having always lived in the best of company, free from old-fashioned prejudices, which would have forbidden her asking for happiness from pleasure, Madame de Champros^ did not indulge in roman- tic whims; nevertheless, she could not dissemble that she knew in advance the pleasantries of the chevalier, or the arias of "ies Indes G-alantes.^' 1 French howling. 56 JEAN AND JE ANNETTE. Many a time she had taken this same promenade in Cours-la-Reine in her open carriage, preceded by her running footman Almanzor, a light-footed Basque, and swift as a deer. Neither was it the first time she had taken supper at the guard's, and without having absolutely wished for something in less good taste, the marquise would have liked some- thing a little more lively by way of entertainment. When Justine came to put her mistress to bed, she found her excessively dispirited, and after the fashion of most maids, to whom long service has accorded a certain familiarity, she hazarded a number of questions. The marquise responded by pouring out all her sufferings. For two years she had been a widow. Her husband had been so much older than she, that she had entertained for him only a sentiment of respect, and while, during this time, the marquise had had no declared lover, several had paid assiduous court to her. Justine, if she had not been discretion itself, might have affirmed that, if her mistress resembled any woman of antiquity, it was certainly not the beautiful Artemisia, widow of Mausolus. After having listened to the recital of her mis- tress's griefs, she said, in a most respectful tone : JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 57 " It seems that madame has not a lover at this present moment." " No, my poor Justine," replied Madame de Champrose, with a dejected air. " That is madame's fault, for there are many- aspirants, and I do not know a prettier lot than those who dance attendance upon her perfections." " Oh, without doubt, I am not yet ugly enough to keep them away," said the marquise, giving a sly glance at herself in the mirror. " The Chevalier de Yerteuil is madly in love with madame." " How many louis has he given you, Justine, to whisper that in my ear, when I go to bed, or when I get up?" " Madame knows I am disinterestedness itself. The passion of the chevalier touches me, that is all. But if he does not please madame, there is the Commander de Livry, who adores her." " Yes, he loves me a little more than Rose or D^sobry," replied the marquise. " If the com- mander and the chevalier lose their heads for me, it is all the same to me if I do not lose mine for them. I should like to love some one young, fresh, pure, innocent, who still believes in senti- 68 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. ment, and whose first love I can be. It bores me to share with opera singers and the demi-monde.'''' " That which madame wishes is difficult, not to say impossible." " And why so, Justine ? " " Messieurs the dukes, marquises, vicomtes, and chevaliers have not merit enough to make them love as madame wishes." " Do you believe that ? " " Oh, I am sure of it. The women throw them- selves at their heads from vanity, coquetry, or interest. These lordlings have their pockets full of love-letters, miniatures, and locks of hair, and, as madame says, the Opera is a terrible emporium for the sale of sighs ! " " So, according to you, Justine, men of rank are not capable of the sort of love I wish." " Most certainly not ; and unless madame conde- scends to stoop lower, I am afraid that she will not be able to satisfy her imagination." " Stoop lower ! What are you thinking of, Jus- tine?" "It is not advice that I am giving, only a reflection that I made." " I cannot descend lower than a baron." JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 59 " Barons are totally lacking in innocence ; some of them are even worse than dukes." " Ah, well ! Must I choose my love from among the squires ? " "The squires are so cunning in the present state of morals." " However, I could not love a plebeian ! " " A plebeian alone will love you." " What ridiculous folly ! " « Love is our wealth ; it belongs to us who have no titles, no chateaux, no equipages, no jewels, no country houses." " What is that you say ? " " It is necessary to cling to love ; pleasure is too dear." "You have a lover, then, who is smitten with you, who is faithful and tender ? " " Madame has said it ; I will not deny it." "Without doubt, some prince in livery — my runner, Almanzor, or the marquis's huntsman, Azolan ? " "Pardon me, madame, but the domestics of a great house become almost as vicious as their masters." « Who is it, then ? " 60 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. " A poor, very ordinary youth, a counter-jumper by profession, and whose only beauty is ruddy health, and his only merit, that he loves me to distraction." "This love is the best! How happy you ought to be, Justine ! " " Yes ; above all, on those days when madame does not need me, and gives me permission to go out. This evening, for instance, if you give me leave, I shall go to a little ball at the Moulin- Rouge, in honour of the marriage of my cousin." " Is she pretty, your cousin ? " " Ravishingly — blue eyes, long, sweeping lashes, and the air of a rosiere." ^ " What sort of people will go to this ball ? " " Oh, leading men, the rich shopkeepers with houses of their own, the sons and daughters of merchants, bailiffs, and attorneys' clerks. There will be a violin, a fife, and a tambourine; there will be a supper, and in the dawn they will go and gather lilac in the fields of Saint Gervais." " You make me long to go to this ball ; it would amuse me. What a droll look all those people must have ! " " If it would amuse madame, nothing would be 1 A village girl who wins a rose for good behaviour. JEAN AND JE ANNETTE. 61 easier. I could let her put on one of my dresses, and pass her off as one of my friends. With my short skirt and jacket of stout striped pink and white silk, a lawn fichu, a smooth coil of hair, and a little fall of lace, she would be perfectly dis- guised, and as beautiful as ever." "Flatterer! And do you believe those clothes would look well on me ? " "We are very nearly of the same figure, only madame has a smaller waist than I; but a tuck and a few pins will arrange all that." Madame de Champros^, roused by the piquancy of this suggestion, was no longer the indifferent woman of a moment ago. She had lost her lan- guishing air and her sleepy attitude. Her eyes grew brilliant, and her little pink nostrils trembled. She herself aided Justine in drawing over her beautifully rounded legs the fine pearl gray stock- ings clocked with red, the tiny shoes with silver buckles. The great edifice on her head, raised that morning with so much care, was demolished by several thrusts of the comb, and Madame de Champrosd was not the less pretty for it. Justine's wrap was becoming to the marquise. At this time waiting-maids modelled themselves 62 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. after soubrettes of comedy, and made themselves up as well, or even better than their mistresses. This, however, was not the case with Justine, for the Marquise de Champrose did not owe her beauty to the mysterious resources of the toilet. She had nothing to conceal, nothing to repair, and re- mained beautiful even to her waiting-maid, in spite of the old adage that a man is not a hero to his valet de chamhre. Justine sent for a cab to wait for them at the little gate in the garden, and the marquise, well muffled in a cloak of shot-coloured silk, the hood of which covered her eyes, sprang joy- ously into the cab, and the coachman whipped his old hacks in the direction of le Moulin-Rouge, be- lieving he was carrying two chambermaids to a frolic. '^J^. SsSi tSkiS 1 'rf^-^ //^ ^-^-^ 'iti^ CHAPTER II. )BOUT the time that Madame de Cham- prose left her hotel disguised as a sou- brette in her Sunday dress, a supper was taking place at the house of Guimard, a cele- brated member of the Royal Academy of music and dancing. This supper brought together a number of lords bearing the most distinguished names of France, 63 64 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. who did not disdain to unbend themselves for a time in the house of this beautiful devil, as they dubbed the protegee of Monsieur de Marmontel, to rid themselves of the boredom caused by more respectable society. The dining-room was decorated with a taste which did honour to the talent of this famous dancer, and with a richness which paid tribute to the mag- nificence of Monsieur de S . It united all that delicate luxury could put at the service of refined elegance. The most precious marbles had been gathered at great expense, to form supports for the heavily gilded ceiling. Under all this surfeit, where one felt the rich financier; in the framing of pictures, each designed for a certain spot, and due to the light and mellow brush of Fragonard, the pupil of the Graces, and the painter in ordinary of Terpsichore ; under all beauty of form, of Cu- pids, and Gods and Goddesses, in the delicate touch of fruits and flowers, one felt the artist had put his soul, in honour and love of his gentle protectress, the beautiful Guimard. The table was decorated with unheard-of dainti- ness, and served only with rarities, the earliest of fruits, exquisite dishes in profusion, the wine of Ai JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 65 and Siller J, — that truly French wine, which laughs in the bottle, and seems to sparkle with bons mots, ~ which was cooling on ice in the silver urns en- graved by Germain, and which, frequently renewed, animated the convivial gathering. Persons less accustomed to similar magnificence would have forgotten the delicate viands to contemplate the epergne, a marvel of workmanship by Clodion;for this artist, who excelled in designs of this kind, had truly outdone himself. This epergne of gilded bronze represented the history of the nymph Syrinx, pursued over the reeds by the god Pan. The stems and leaves which formed the charming ornamental designs were covered by a flight of satyrs, fawns, and nymphs. These little figur^'es had a freedom in execution, a voluptuousness in their attitudes, a passion in their gestures, which made them lifelike, and revealed in the sculptor a fire of imagination, and a marvellous facility touching matters of gallantry. The nymphs especially were charming in their modest attempts at concealing their beauty. In her fright Syrinx betrayed the very loveliness she was seeking to cover ; the reeds and the herbage, opportunely opening and closing up, allowed all to be seen without showing anything. 66 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. In the features of the nymphs connoisseurs pre- tended to discover the well-known faces of noted society women, and in the masks of the satyrs were recognised the features of successful financiers and even of some old noblemen celebrated for their luxurious manner of life. The gathering was not large, but it was select: four or five men, and about the same number of women, composed it. As we have said, the men belonged to the high- est circles, to the most influential families at court. As for the women, they were of the fashionable demi-monde, dancers and comediennes, for whom this gathering was but a pretext. One cannot tell why, when well-bred people seek to amuse them- selves, they resort to evil : this would almost make one believe vice is more fascinating than virtue, a conclusion which morality should condemn. La Guimard presided over this supper with the intellectual grace, that voluptuousness and fire which crowned her the high -priestess of pleasure, a religion which found few dissenters in the gallant eighteenth century. Her celebrated slenderness explained itself by the enthusiasm of the dancer, who had willingly sacrificed the roundness of womanly perfection to JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 67 the lightness of the dancer's art. This slenderness suggested nothing disagreeable ; on the contrary, it was elegant, full of grace and fine lines such as a sculptor loves. Her lightly clothed figure nestled into its corsage with the flexibility of a butterfly, of which her glittering skirts seemed the wings. Her fragile and transparent hand was covered with jewelled rings, which would have been too small for a child of ten. Her audacious decolletage showed only a sweet childlike suggestion of womanly form, which con- vinced one that nothing could be more beautiful. Her slender white throat, with its noble propor- tions, made her carry her head with the lightness and grace of a bird or a flower. Millions had been thrown to the winds, and fortunes dissipated, in arriving at this ardent con- summation of slenderness ; one could reckon them in the devouring glances of her brilliant eyes, in the impossible fantasies of her face, which paint reddened, without altering its delicate pallor. Many women have had the taste for luxury and pleasure — Guimard had the genius for it. The three other women had that pink and white regularity, veined with blue, those ogling eyes melt- 68 JEAN AND JEANNETTE, ing from mockery to love, the irregular nose neither Greek nor Roman, showing as much caprice as intelligence. Their pursed-up mouths were formed for kisses or for satire, and their dimples offered hospitality to laughter and to the loves. In short, their mobile and piquant physiognomy was well in accord with the manners, the arts, and the fashions of their age, and represented a type that has now disappeared. Their draperies were charmingly ar- ranged, full of knots of ribbon and butterflies, of precious stones and of flowers. The eyes were be- wildered by the profusion of agreeable and tender colours, for, to be in keeping with the season, these women were clothed in the green of early spring- time, in rose, and heaven's own blue. Guimard alone wore white, gowned like a vestal, without doubt ironically. On her whole person there was no touch of colour, save for her scarlet lips and the touch of rouge on her cheeks. All the light concentrated itself on her, proclaiming her queen of the festival. If Monsieur Fragonard had wished to paint this fete, he would not have altered the grouping, or the contrast of colours. Certainly, if one were to ask any young man, or JEAN AND JEANNETTE. QQ even a man of ripe age, if he knew a more agree- able way of killing time than to eat a delicious supper in a brilliantly lighted and well-appointed room, m company with the wits of the court and the most beautiful women from the Ope'ra and Co- medie, he would reply, no; that nothing is com- parable to drinking to beauty in brimming glasses of champag-ne, seated between two gor-eously dressed nymphs, whose ripplmg laughter and pink cheeks, in spite of paint, give one a sense of ease and pleasure. Ah, well! this diversion appeared to amuse the Vicomte de Candale but little. Tipped back in his chair, he waited, with a sad and nonchalant air, for the bubbles in his glass to break, before carrying It to his lips in reply to a toast. Standing with one beautiful hand resting on the table, the in- comparable Guimard drank to him in these words • "To M. the Vicomte de Candale, known otherwise as ' the gloomy exquisite.' " "Yes, to the health of the new Amadis of Gaul!" cried the other revellers in chorus, clink- ing their glasses with that of the vicomte. Candale, after having touched each glass offered him with his own, silently emptied it, and put it down. 70 JEAN AND JE ANNETTE. " The dear vicomte," said a pretty young woman smilingly, whose sparkling eye was rendered more so by its touch of paint below the lid ; " has the dear vicomte received bad news ? Is it by any chance that the old uncle from whom the vicomte will inherit, and who appeared to feel the absurdity of living after seventy years, has decided to send for his physician and take a new lease of life ? " " Hold your tongue, Cidalise ! " replied a tall girl in apple green taffeta frosted with silver, and who was in perfect contrast with her neighbours. " Monsieur de Oandale is not so badly off as to be sighing after his inheritance. This incomparable son of the family has only spent what belonged to him, and he still has enough of his own for him to be loved at the Op^ra for another five years." "Oh!" said Cidalise, "when he has no more money, we will give him credit, and love him on notes payable from the dot of his future wife." "And I," said a beautiful blonde, leaning towards the ear of the vicomte, with voluptuous abandon, " I will love him for nothing ! " " That is very costly. Rosette," replied Candale, giving a little friendly tap to the bare and trem- bling shoulder of the young girl. " I think I should JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 71 prefer to declare my passion to Cidalise, and mort- gage my inheritance in such an extremity. But reassure yourself, I am not more ruined than usual, and I always keep some thousands of louis in re- serve for useless things." " What is the matter with you, Candale ? " said Guimard, breaking into the conversation. "You are so unusually mournful, that one does not rec- ognise you. You, generally so quick at repartee, are frightfully grave. You sit at this supper like a magistrate seated in judgment. We are not judging any one, my dear!" "It is true that poor Candale has the most piteous face in the world, and mopes before wine and beauty," cried the Marquis de Valnoir from the other end of the table. He was already beginning to feel the effect of his numerous liba- tions to Bacchus, and had received several repri- mands on his fingers from the fan of his rather more sober neighbour. «I am going to confess him," said the fair Ro- sette ; and taking the vicomte by the hand, she drew him to a rich divan, with twisted rock-work feet, at the end of the hall, which offered to lovers every facility for an interview. 72 JEAN AND J E ANNETTE. " Dear brother, it is necessary first to go on your knees, for that is the proper attitude for a penitent at confession," said Rosette, with an edify- ing air of compunction. " I do not object," replied the vicomte, " espe- cially when the confessor has such a soft voice and gentle eye." And he knelt before Rosette, who inclined towards him her charming head. " Vicomte, what remorse is gnawing at your heart, that you carry into the world such a sad and doleful face ? What conquests have you missed, what innocence have you spared, what hus- band have you respected, in an impulse of ridicu- lous A-irtue ? for these are the faults for which there is no consolation." " I have nothing of that sort to reproach myself with. Innocence ! I have not even met it ; while as for husbands, they are too much like Vulcan for me to feel much pity for them. My con- science is in good order so far as these are concerned." " Since you have committed none of these crimes, I absolve you, and it is not necessary you should remain on your knees; come and sit by me, and kiss my hand in token of penitence." JEAN AND JE ANNETTE. T3 Candale rose and gallantly pressed his lips upon Rosette's beautiful and dimpled hand. " Now explain to me your funereal expression. If it is not remorse that makes it gloomy, it is chagrin, and what chagrin can you have ? an un- successful love ? That certainly ought not to be yours." " You flatter me, Rosette ; but I am not in a sit- uation for such unhappiness, since I love no one." " Do you know that what you are saying is neither gallant, nor French, monsieur? Learn that, in Paris, a man of the world is always sup- posed to be in love with the woman to whom he is talking." " But you are not a woman, since you are my confessor." " Not at all ; you are released from the confes- sional, and we are talking. Fie, monsieur, I am a woman, and very much a woman." " Ah, well, little one, if I were in love with you, that would not render me miserable ; for you would not receive me, like a Hyrcanian tigress, if I can believe what you just whispered in my ear." " What did I say, then, just now ? " " That you would love me even if I were ruined." 74 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. " Yes, but as you are not ruined, I love you no longer. I would have shown that generosity to your indigence. We who receive always, are some- times pleased to give. There is nothing so sweet." While she said this, the mocking voice of Rosette took a tender tone, and her beautiful blue eyes were illuminated by a soft light that struck Can- dale. " How I regret that I am not as poor as a poet ! I should like, so as to put myself in a position to be loved by you, to play every night." " You might gain by it." " To marry rosieres, to endow academies, to build cascades in my chateau garden, — which ruins even kings." "All that would not be necessary," continued Rosette, shaking her wide-spread skirts ; " if you loved me a little, I would resign myself to endure your wealth ; but you have not the least interest in me." " That was very true a short time ago ; now, perhaps, it is no longer so," replied Candale, draw- ing as near to Rosette as her train admitted, and seizing her hand, which she yielded to him with- out resistance. JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 75 "Well! do you know Candale's secret?" cried the Marquis de Valnoir, advancing with an uncer- taui drunken step towards the group, which had for some time been withdrawn from the general uproar of the orgie. "Yes, I know it," said Rosette, rising without withdrawing her hand, which the vicomte still held; "he has confided to me his unhappiness, and I brmg him back to you quite consoled." "The deuce! what a consoler! It will now be necessary to confide in her for the cure of all cases of despondency," grumbled the Marquis de Val- noir, as with an ironical air he conducted the couple back to the table. If the Yicomte de Candale was not really cured of his blues, he certainly had the air of being less melancholy. His eye had regained its brilliancy, and he replied with great grace and wit to all the' pleasantries launched at him from the four corners of the table. Guimard declared that the indisposi- tion that had eclipsed the young man's gaiety was completely dissipated, and that she once more rec- ognised her Candale of old. A toast to Rosette was voted, in honour of her having worked this miracle, and the glasses were 76 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. carefully emptied to the last drop, thanks to the vigilant care of the Marquis de Yalnoir, who placed great solemnity on these libations, and never per- mitted a guest to be less drunk than himself. In the midst of the tumult which followed this toast, while each was occupied with his own affairs, Candale and Rosette disappeared, without being noticed. Rosette, who should not have left until later, with the friend who had brought her, stepped into the vis-d-vis of the Vicomte de Candale. This kind of carriage seems to have been invented to fa- cilitate vows of love and gallant larcenies. Many a timid lover has obtained from their joltings a fleeting happiness they had not the audacity to demand. Foot touched foot, knee pressed against knee, hands met, lips and cheeks were constantly brought in contact, so that when the enormous coachman, a little more drunk than usual, drove recklessly across the gutters, less rigid virtue stepped out of the vis-d-vis than had entered it. Rosette, as one may have noticed during the evening, was not of a prudish disposition ; neither did Candale sin in excess of austerity ; yet with all JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 77 these opportunities, we can affirm, what will appear inconceivable to most persons, that in spite of the long ride, — and Candale's coachman knew better than to hurry his horses when his master was alone with a young and beautiful woman, — in spite of all, Candale did not allow himself the slightest liberty, not even when Rosette leaned towards him, showing such emotion that her sighs shook the bouquet on her bosom. Yes, such was the fact, inconceivable in the eighteenth century, which occurred that night. Candale conducted Rosette to her home without having taken a single kiss, and left her at her door with a courteous salutation. When he had reentered his carriage he said, yawning, " Heavens ! how these girls and suppers bore me ! How am I going to finish this night ? Suppose I were to lower myself a little and go incognito to the ball of which Bonnard has told me, and where he says I shall find among the bourgeoisie fresher, prettier faces than amongst these celebrated puppets, who glisten with their pomade, and shine like idols polished by the kisses of their worshippers." Rosette, who had never before experienced such 78 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. treatment, resigned herself to her maids, who put her to bed in a sohtude that astonished and dis- mayed her. "Ah! Candale! Candale!" murmured she, as she fell asleep. CHAPTER m. [ADAME DE CHAMPROSE, whom we left in a cab with her faithful Justine, was greatly amused with the joltings of the coach, as it swung on its worn springs, and during the journey, which took some time, — al- though the highly paid coachman whipped his jades conscientiously, — she uttered little shrieks of laughter, as the carriage swung from one side to the other, following the inequalities of the pave- 79 80 JEAN AND JE ANNETTE. ment, because monsieur, the lieutenant of police, occupied himself much more in hunting out scan- dalous stories to amuse the king, his master, than in serving the convenience and attending to the comfort of the citizens. At last they arrived, for one always ends by reaching one's destination, even in a cab. A little Savoyard, holding a lantern, gallantly offered his arm to the ladies, who stepped down the slippery foot-board with affected awkwardness, giving to the men gathered about the entrance a chance glimpse of neatly turned ankles and tight stockings. The ball had begun. The brilliantly illuminated windows of the tavern, the Moulin-Rouge, showed that the directors of the fete, although shopkeepers, were not stingy with their oil, which was furnished by a number of their members of the noble profes- sion of grocers; the upholsterers had contributed seats and festoons of paper flowers, so that the hall was not as unattractive as one might at first have imagined. The orchestra, perched on a platform that was covered with a spangled saddle-cloth, occupied the recess of a door from which the doors had been removed. It was composed of three performers : a JEAN AND JEANNETTB. 81 violinist, who, after having scraped his part in the spectacle of ^'■Audinot, ou les Grands Dafiseurs du Roi^'' was not sorry to earn three livres more by playing quadrilles and dances the remainder of the night; a tambourine player, who marked time vigorously for the benefit of careless dancers ; and a flutist, who only allowed himself a certain number of " quacks." Certainly, Monsieur Rameau, who invented such clever musical combinations, might have found this orchestra a little meagre and barbarous; but it sufficed for all purposes, and made up in zeal what it lacked in numbers. The violinist scraped the strings of his instrument furiously, with the most extraordinary flourishes, accompanied by grimaces, like one possessed. The flutist puffed out his cheeks as if he were an imp of ^olus in the Bal- let of the Winds, and blew into his instrument with such force that his face was of a most beautiful crimson; as for the tambourine player, he flung his arms about like a maniac, beat the drum of his instrument as if he intended to break it ; and all the three, as if fearful of losing the time, beat it with their feet like village fiddlers, raising a cloud of dust from the platform which supported them. 82 JEAN AND JE ANNETTE. A jug of wine, from which in turn they drank large bumpers, stood by these Amphions, and the host of the Moulin-Rouge complacently refilled it, having learned by experience that nothing creates thirst like music, judging from the inextinguishable appetites of the musicians. This harmony, which could be heard down the staircase, greatly amused Madame de Champrosd, who, playing well on the harpsichord herself, could distinguish the license which this untrained orchestra allowed itself with the rules of music. During the drive, Madame de Champros^ had commanded Justine not to treat her with more respect than was natural amongst cousins. She even ordered her to call her by the name " Jean- nette," which, because it was a simple and pastoral one, she had chosen for this occasion. When Justine appeared, accompanied by Jean- nette, every one surrounded them with great eager- ness. Justine presented her pretended cousin in the most natural manner possible ; and the gallan- tries of the assembly broke into compliments, which, if not so well turned, were accepted with none the less pleasure. The gods, kings, and pretty women swallow everything of the kind, and Ma- JEAN AND JE ANNETTE. 83 dame la Marquise discovered that the bourgeois were men of greater taste than she had supposed, a little absurd in their madrigals, but that did no harm — it only proved their sincerity ; for too much familiarity inspires distrust. Thus Madame de Champros^, who felt but little flattered at hearing the abbe or the commander compare her to Hebe, reddened with pleasure when a young druggist of the Rue Sainte Avoie said, in passing her, " What a peach-like cheek ! one would like to bite it ! " It is true it would have been difficult to find anything daintier, fresher, or prettier than the pretended Jeannette. Although she carried her court dress with the proud bearing of a princess and a person nobly born, the simple costume of a grisette suited her even better. The short skirt gave her more grace than the exaggerated pannier. Freed from all the headgear that fashion piles up, she was a hundred times more charming ; her beautiful blond hair, instead of being crimped, po- maded and powdered, built up into an extravagant edifice on a wire frame and filled with flowers, knots of ribbon, and porcelain butterflies, was sim- ply coiled above her white neck and drawn directly 84 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. back in Chinese fashion, showing the pretty waves of hair on her perfectly formed forehead. Madame de Champros^ was not one of these weari- some beauties of the Greek or Roman type, formed rather to put into marble than to be loved. Her charming eyes, full of expression, animated a keenly intelligent face, which, by reason of its extreme youth, was capable of playing the ingenue to per- fection. Her nose, a la Roxelane, lacked happily the extreme of regularity, which is so celebrated, but does not please ; as for her mouth, it was in form a miniature Cupid's bow, and in colour like one of those double cherries that Jean Jacques Rous- seau threw from the tree into the bosom of Mile. Gallet. Although Madame was markedly the great lady, there was nothing about her incompatible with the bearing of a grisette. Her feet were very small and daintily shod; but one must recollect that the Parisian grisettes, who ran like partridges, equalled the Spanish noblewomen in the smallness of their feet, and showed much coquetry in the manner of their adornment. As for her hands, the rosy and taper fingers of which peeped out from black silk mitts, their delicacy was easily explained. Mile. Justine had said that her cousin JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 85 was a lace-maker, and it was not in trimming the delicate threads of Arachne that one would roughen one's fingers, or break one's nails. Jeannette became immediately the belle of the ball. Scarcely had she seated herself on the bench against the wall, by the side of Justine, than she was invited to dance. A gallant had fetched for her a great bouquet of roses du roi, which she held while dancing, and of which she had put one bud in the bosom of her dress, where the points of her fichu joined. Dorat, the musketeer-poet, would have said it was to perfume the flower. Another, a bailiff's clerk, had regaled her with two oranges, and presented a green paper fan, on the back of which was printed an air from " Ernelinde.^^ These gallantries amused Jeannette exceedingly, who received them all with a laughing air, espe- cially the languishing looks and affected sighs of the young druggist and the bailift''s clerk. She had not imagined that people of this kind would resemble men of her own class so closely. These shopkeepers and smaller gentry, of whom she had hitherto only had a glimpse from the height of her carriage, crowded into the mud or splashed by her coachman, or fleeing in a deluge of rain, sur- 86 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. prised her by their simple, ahnost human manners. She would not have believed that such animals could have expressed themselves in such intelligible language, not to mention the sensible, and even po- lite, things they said. She felt the same sort of astonishment she would have experienced if her pug-dog, instead of barking, or her marmoset had suddenly joined by words in a conversation ; per- haps in an even greater degree, for had not her dog and her marmoset been brought up in a most proper manner by Monsieur I'Abbe ? It was not that Madame de Champrose affected haughtiness, or was in the least degree contemptuous. She was not infatuated with her nobility, and never spoke of her ancestors, nor did she care much for her genealogical tree ; it was only that she had never been brought in contact with others than her own class, who all believed themselves to be of a chosen clay and a particular blood. She noticed that the third clerk of the bailiff had as well turned a leg as that of the Chevalier de Verteuil, who dandled his perpetually to have it noticed. What astonished her profoundly was that the druggist's son, although he did not laugh at everything without reason, had teeth as beautiful JEAN AND JE ANNETTE. 87 in colour as those in which Monsieur I'Abbe took such pride that, to show them, he would have laughed at the most disastrous news. " These churls are as well made as gentlemen, and do not say many more foolish things," thought Madame de Champros^, in accepting an invitation for the following quadrille. Carried away by the impulse and simplicity of the general pleasure, the pretended Jeannette abandoned herself with all her heart to the dance, and held out without affectation her white aristocratic hands to the grasp of the red fists of her partners, when they formed a circle in the dance, surprised to find, notwithstanding her good birth, that she was vulgar enough to be able to amuse herself as if she had been of little or no position. One would have said that, with her petticoats, her diamonds, and rouge, she had also put off that languor which only attaches itself to people of quality, and disdains the more solid constitutions of the working classes. The naive admiration of these vulgarians flattered her. If it was not most delicately expressed, it at least had the merit of sincerity. To all these good people she was simply Jeannette, cousin of a waiting-maid, a soubrette in high life, it is true, but with no title. 88 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. Here she had no marquisate but her beautiful eyes, and no riches but those of her person. She was happy in not having lost by her incognito, which is not always favourable, even to those in high places. She danced the gavotte, the minuet, la bourree, striving not to show too many of the graces Marcel had taught her, but restraining herself to natural- ness, which suited her even better. However, although she amused herself extremely well, she had as yet seen no one who answered to her ideal, and among all these worthy faces she had not found one that produced the desired effect. Thunderclaps were the fashion in these times, when they had so abridged the old-fashioned for- malities with which the prudery of our ancestors had surrounded themselves, and it was generally agreed that hearts made for one another could understand each other at first sight, without lan- guishing under all these terrible attentions. But Madame de Champros^, however great her desire to be enchanted, did not find any such charm in the amiable druggist-presumptive, or in the amorous glances of the bailiff's clerk, that checked her perfect freedom of mind or of heart; and JEAN AND JE ANNETTE. 89 when, during a figure in the quadrille, Justine, in passing her mistress, demanded by an interrogation of the eye if her fancy had made a choice among all these gallants, an imperceptible motion of the head signified that she had not. If she herself remained insensible, she had made frightful ravages in the hearts of these bourgeois; and the beauties of this quarter, who had sparkled quite brilliantly before the rising of this new planet, found themselves half extinguished by her light. Miles. Javotte, Nanette, and Denise, almost abandoned by their habitual admirers, remained in sulky loneliness, as if they had been dowagers or antediluvians, destined by their years to be only wallflowers. They had, however, colour in their cheeks like the deep red of apples, their corsages were full to bursting, and they wore red clocked silk stockings drawn over their chubby legs. They were greatly astonished that a little person, scarcely plump, almost pale, should be able to stand against their robust charms and palpable advantages. To regain for themselves their vanished lovers, they made the most marked advances, ogling, throwing loving glances, laughing noisily, and rather bitterly; and even Denise could not help 90 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. giving what is commonly called a " pinch " to the young druggist, who till now had been her ad- mitted wooer, and acquitted himself very regularly of this duty, but who did not now trouble himself to give her the most distant attention: the pas- sionate druggist, who was speaking at the time to Jeannette, was as stoical as the Spartan boy who allowed himself to be torn in his vitals by a fox, without admitting by a cry or gesture that he was being tortured. He did not even turn his head, and Denise was obliged to return to her seat without gaining so much as a glance from his eye, or a smile. In vain Javotte extended her foot under the eyes of the bailiff's clerk, and made the rhinestone buckles glitter to attract the compliments of this young client of Themis, who never before had neglected his opportunities. But it was of no avail ; his looks were all turned in another direction, too absorbed to lower themselves to her foot, and Mile. Javotte got nothing for her coquetry. Nanette, who or- dinarily had no time to sit down, lost at least half a dozen quadrilles. Although no one in this gathering suspected the rank of the marquise, it must be said that the power of high birth and pure JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 91 blood produced a strong effect on these worthy people, who paid to the false Jeannette involuntary and delicate attentions which a grisette of equal beauty would not have won from them. To please people of this kind was not the end sought by the marquise, however much she might be flattered by the admiration she excited. The most severe queens have sometimes been more pleased with the blunt compliments of a sailor than with the most carefully studied son- nets of the court poets. There is in certain brutali- ties something which is not displeasing to the most delicate persons, and Madame de Champros^ en- joyed highly the compliments paid to Jeannette. The grisette answered to the marquise for the sin- cerity of the compliments of the chevalier, the commander, and the abb^. However, to turn the heads of plebeians was not sufficient for her; she wished to be touched herself by caprice or passion, and did not bound her escapade by a few simple dances in a public house. The modest air of the bride, in whom shy- ness veiled her love, and who strove to check the ardour of her young husband, whose resounding kisses drew laughter from the assembly and made 92 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. her blush up to her eyes, brought back the imagi- nation of the marquise to ideas of the true and simple happiness of those who do not despise nature's laws. She thought of that hand, twisted by the gout, in which she had placed hers on leaving the con- vent ; of the dull, wrinkled, and cold face of the Marquis de Champros^, — a sort of mummy dried by ambition and debauchery, — whom she had found so hideous and so ridiculous without his wig under the canopy of the bed on their wedding night, and she could not refrain from thinking that her maid's cousin had been better treated by Hymen than herself. It is true that the cousin's husband did not pos- sess sixty quarterings, but neither did he count sixty winters, which was a compensation. While the marquise made these reflections, wav- ing her green paper fan with a grace that would have betrayed her to more experienced eyes, the son of the druggist and the clerk meditated their hons mots, which had now become complicated, meantime standing fixed before her like so many posts, with the most pitiful and ridiculous air in the world. JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 93 Madame de Champrose was secretly amused, and from a malicious cruelty did not aid them in the least, so that they rolled their eyes like negroes with a clock in their stomach. Justine, seeing her mistress cornered in this manner, went to her and, taking her arm, made a tour of the ballroom, talking in a low voice. "Is madame bored at my cousin's ball, and how do these simple folk seem to her ? " "No, I amuse myself like any woman who dances, and these bourgeois seem very happy to me." "Is this all?" "Yes." "The druggist's son is well thought of in the Rue Sainte Avoie, and the most beautiful girls do not disdain his salutation when he raises his hat." " That is possible, but he does not inspire me with the least desire to lower my dignity." " And the third clerk ? " " He may become a second clerk, nothing more.'* " I am disappointed to think that madame has only this for her pains." "I almost feel inclined to call the cab, and return to the h6tel." J 94 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. '• If madame would permit me to advise her, I should say wait a little." " You are amusing yourself then so much ? " "I am not amused if madame is bored; but it might happen that, when we had left, the person we are looking for might arrive. They still ex- pect a number of young men, and besides, a ball, like fireworks, is always most beautiful at the end." Madame de Champrose submitted to so many good reasons, and made 'no mistake in doing so, as we shall see later. On such slight accidents turn the making of events ! If Madame de Champros^ had left the ball a quarter of an hour earlier, she might never have been in love. -^ Vv, CHAPTER IV. HE anticipations of Justine were not long in proving justified, and showed all the astuteness of this model lady's maid, whom Monsieur de Marivaux would not have failed to introduce into one of his comedies under the name of Lisette; and Madame de Champros^ had to congratulate herself on having listened to the 96 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. advice which her faithful domestic had given her on this occasion. The ball had lasted half as long as a reasonable ball, that is to say, until two o'clock in the morn- ing, and already they were passing the refresh- ments, consisting of sweet cider, wine of Suresnes, and roast chestnuts, when there was a great com- motion at the door, and a person who seemed to be of importance entered in a superb and trium- phant fashion. It was the steward of the Marquis de , who, being a good fellow this evening, did not disdain to come and unbend himself an instant and rest from the cares of greatness at this festival. The steward, who approached the fifties, had a red face under his little wig with close curls, which showed that the " cult " of Bacchus had in him a devotee full of fervour ; at the same time his thin, sinuous legs, encased in variegated stock- ings, and his back and shoulders, which were sharply outlined in a large coat of chestnut-col- oured cloth, showed that he was still, in spite of his age, a perennial beau, — whom they call in Cytheria " a payer of arrears." To this personage the assembly paid much def- erence ; and also to another whom Monsieur de JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 97 Bonnard brought with him, and whom he intro- duced under the modest name of Monsieur Jean, a relative from the provinces, who had come to Paris in the hope of becoming an excise commis- sioner, under Monsieur de Bonnard's all-powerful protection. " He is a little timid," explained M. de Bonnard, with the greatest benignity, shaking off, with an air of aristocratic ease, — after the manner of great lords whom he aped, — some grains of Spanish snuff which had fallen on his frill ; " but," he added, " I hope these ladies will not treat him too much as a provincial, and will be indulgent over the dehut of a youth who has just been set down by the coach from Auxerre, and who asks nothing more than to model himself after the good manners of Paris." This little speech completed, M. de Bonnard pir- ouetted on his heel nimbly enough, and believing that he had done all in his power, abandoned his protege to his own devices — left the cock among the young hens — while he himself went to make broad jokes with the mothers, and pinch the cheeks of their daughters, with that air half paternal, half libertine, of which the secret is lost. Monsieur Jean, whom Jeannette regarded from 98 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. her corner with much interest, had not as awk- ward an air as one would have expected from a provincial. He carried himself with ease, if one thought of his natural embarrassment at finding himself alone at a ball where he knew no one at all ; in the midst of shopkeepers, druggists, law- yers' clerks, maids from the great houses dressed like princesses, and rich shop-women decked in gay silks, with pearls in their ears. He had a well-set-up figure for a youth from the provinces. His coat was of dove-coloured cloth with steel but- tons, and opened over a vest of striped lilac silk, and was of a style that was not bad for a small town. Jeannette also noticed that the new-comer had a beautiful leg and a small foot; his shoes, blacked to perfection and brilliant with steel buckles, fitted him to a marvel. As for his face, it was full of charm, not spoilt by a certain air of ingenuousness which all women, even the least ex- perienced, do not object to finding in young men. His eye, though soft, did not lack fire, and from the vivacity of his looks one divined that, if he had not been restrained by timidity, he would have shown himself to be very witty. This timidity, however, had nothing in it of the awkwardness JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 99 that confuses debutants, making them commit blun- der after blunder, and rendering them the most ridiculous of objects. Although from the provinces, he did not appear to suffer from that overwhelming shyness which forces an unhappy young man, burning with a de- sire to invite a pretty cousin with whom he is in love to dance, to ask instead some hideous crea- ture whom he abominates. He went with the most humbly polite air in the world, but at the same time without the slightest confusion, to the pret- tiest, the most elegant, and the most admired young lady at the ball, that is to say, to Mile. Jeannette herself. This sublime audacity stupefied three or four boobies with figures like hop-poles, with flaxen locks and red hands, who had been hovering around Jeannette for an hour, like uneasy herons, changing from one foot to another, medi- tating the presumptuous project of inviting the beautiful lace-maker for the next dance. Sighs full of melancholy escaped from the breasts of the four imbeciles, who, although born in the streets of Puits-qui-Parle, Femme-sans-Tete, I'Homme- Arme, and Petit-Musc, could not free themselves from envy at the manner in which this nobody just 100 JEAN AND JE ANNETTE. arrived from Auxerre presented himself to pretty girls. The amiable druggist, who believed he had made a not disagreeable impression on Mile. Jeannette, and who, since the beginning of the ball, had been torturing his wits to compose a madrigal and com- pliments not too redolent of the Rue Sainte Avoie, could not see this newcomer enter into competition with him without a sense of displeasure. Although one may say that self-love renders a man blind, it does not blind druggists enough to make them have no fear of the presence of a good-looking youth near the object of their preference. Neither was the third clerk able to prevent him- self from regarding his rival with a fierce eye, and cursing secretly M. de Bonnard for having brought this puppet just out of a bandbox, who gained with one sentence more than he had in two hours of attention and gallautries ; for the smile with which Jeannette granted the request of Monsieur Jean had something in it so gracious, so soft, and so benevolent, that the basochien ^ was filled with jeal- ousy. He had obtained from Jeannette only slight 1 Literally, " member of the basoche," an old term for a " corpora- tion of lawyers." JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 101 cold smiles, given by courtesy; and yet her inex- haustible gaiety would have enlivened even the dead themselves, and this evening had been an evening of evenings to him. Monsieur Jean took Mile. Jeannette by the tips of her pretty fingers and conducted her to her place in the dance. He did not acquit himself badly in the figures, showing not the slightest awkwardness, and if M. de Bonnard had not said that the young man had just arrived from the provinces, no one would have suspected it. " You have never seen Paris, Monsieur Jean ? " said Jeannette to her partner, in an interval of the dance. " No, mademoiselle ; it is the first time I have been in this great city." " And what do you think of it ? does it come up to your idea of it ? " " Yes and no ; I find in it superb monuments, which attest the power of our kings and the wealth of individuals ; but with it all is mingled so much misery, dirt, mud, and smoke, that I do not know if I ought to admire or censure. The most wonderful thing I have seen in Paris up to the present mo- ment is yourself ; I may say this without flattery." 102 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. " Oh ! If you have seen nothing more wonder- ful than me in Paris, it is because you have but just come, and have not had time to carry your observations very far." " I have succeeded. I shall not search further. Although from the provinces, I know how to appre- ciate delicacy, beauty, and grace at their true value." " Be quiet, naughty flatterer, you make me blush." " Wliat more beautiful paint could tint your cheeks than your heart's blood, moved by the honest emotion of a youth who loves you ? " " In the case of one whom I please, I am quite agreeable. Although modest, I know that I am so made as not to inspire with dislike ; but how can you say that you love me — you who have known me scarcely an hour ! " "An hour! It does not want so long as that. I had no sooner perceived you than I felt that I belonged to you. I not know you, great gods ! Have I not seen the celestial expression of your glances, the charming grace of your smile, heard your silvery voice ? Have I not touched your hand with a light pressure ? Have I not in dan- cing breathed the odour of your bouquet, which JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 103 your bosom has perfumed ? Do I not know that you have blond hair, a supple and willowy figure, and that you dance in a ravishing fashion ? What could I know more of you, after I had followed you for months, like your dog or your shadow ? A clear and simple life like yours reveals itself in a single glance." " Do you think so ? " replied the false Jeannette, who could not repress a slight smile at the last words of Monsieur Jean. " I have blue eyes and blond hair, as you have noticed, but how do you know that I am not perfidious, peevish, bad, insup- portable ? All young girls are charming at balls, and dancing softens the most peevish characters." " Calumniate yourself at your pleasure ; divinities alone can speak so of themselves without blasphem- ing ; but you cannot make me change my opinion." "Ah, well, so be it ! I am a compound of per- fections ; I will not dispute that with you, although there is much exaggeration in all you have just said ; but for all that, it does not follow that I am going to accept your love in the sudden fashion in which it was born." "Who has demanded that of you? I wish, if you will permit me, to prove to you how durable 104 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. a sentiment can be that needed but a moment for its birth, and an hour for its development." " Oh ! I forewarn you, if this fantasy born of the ball does not die with it, and if you still think of the little lace-maker, whom you found pleasing by contrast with a few ugly faces, that you will be obliged to make your court after the regular fash- ion, to show yourself a sentimental lover like a hero of old romances ; and no one can tell but that, after all your proofs of devotion, I shall laugh in your face, and, making you a courtesy, simply say, ' Your servant.' " A new dance interrupted this conversation, and Justine, who had kept apart and very negligently chaperoned her pretended cousin, understood at once, with that deep comprehension of the human heart in general, and of their mistress's in particular, which all true waiting-maids possess, that Madame de Champros^ was extremely interested in Monsieur Jean, and that she would soon see her desire gratified. The ball drew to its end ; the musicians, tired of playing, vainly strove to moisten their throats and rouse their flagging energies in the intermissions of the music. Sleep and drunkenness overtook them ; the lamps began to flicker from lack of oil, and the JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 105 candles to sputter in their sockets. Dawn, just quitting the couch of the aged Tithonus, threw across the window-shades tones of pastel blue. Some energetic person proposed that, before returning home to bed, they should all go to the meadows of Saint Gervais to see the sun rise, drink milk at the dairy, and gather lilac. It was early May, the season of these flowers so dear to Pari- sians, who rightly admire their beautiful purple. The proposition was received with applause; and all the participants of the ball, even old men to whom bed would have been more fitting than a walk in the dews of morning, set out with shouts of pleasure for the celebrated meadows, one of the freshest pieces of verdure around Paris. Monsieur Jean offered his arm to Mile. Jean- nette, who accepted it, but under the protection of Mile. Justine, who acted as chaperon. The druggist offered his to Denise, who, happy at re- covering her captive, thought it wise not to indulge in useless recriminations. The third clerk was quite happy, with Nanette, the beauty with the buckles, to walk by his side ; and thus arranged, the party wandered in pairs along the little by-paths which separated the groups of odorous blossoms. 106 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. The greater portion of these groups consisted of lovers and fiances, and in the turns of the walks many kisses were given and received. Monsieur Jean did not dare become so bold, but he pressed against his heart Madame de Champros^'s arm, and plucked for her the most enormous bouquet of lilac and violets that ever a grisette carried home to her attic. He had overturned for her the treasures of Flora. These loving groups, scattered here and there along the narrow paths, would have made a most charming subject for the brush of M. Lancret, painter of lovers' fetes. The petticoats of silk and of pekin, of brilliant colours, trailing over the grass ; the corsages which, without being cut with the noble impudence of the women of the court, left one to discover or divine the new-born charms already ripe for love ; the arms thrown lightly about waists, and heads so near together under pretext of a whisper, — the lips addressing to the cheek confidences intended for the ear : all this invited the pencil of an artist accustomed to sac- rifice to the Graces, and formed an ensemble as agreeable to the eye as to the heart. A little behind walked groups of parents and JEAN AND JE ANNETTE. 107 of middle-aged persons : the papas in long-tailed coats, with large bright buttons, with an air of good-fellowship, and leaning heavily on a cane with a crow's beak handle, while their cocked hats were set firmly on their heads ; the mam- mas, fat and ruddy, still attractive, dressed in their enlarged wedding dresses, of gay flowered stuffs, as was the fashion at the beginning of the reign. They listened smilingly to the broad jokes of their companions, keeping an oversight at the same time of their daughters, however sure they were of the prudence of their children. These groups, to which the painter could not have given warmer and riper tones, formed a most harmonious background for the fresh and sparkling youth, which dawn, the youth of day, was bathing in her roseate light. M. Lancret would have assuredly put Jean and Jeannette in the centre of his composition. To protect herself from the morning dampness, Jean- nette had flung over her shoulders the taffeta cloak of shot-silk ; but the silk had slipped off, and as she bent her head the white and polished nape of her neck could be seen, where several wanton curls nestled in spite of the steel comb which held the knot of her hair. She held herself closely pressed 108 JEAN AND JE ANNETTE. against Monsieur Jean to avoid the dew-spangled branches, which shed pearls over her dress and seemed to wish to bar her passage, and keep her longer amongst themselves. At least that was the reason she gave to herself, for it is certain she leaned more heavily on Monsieur Jean's arm than a perfectly smooth path and her natural lightness demanded. To hide a slight embarrassment, she gave her face a bath of flowers, plunging it in the great bouquet he had gathered for her, drowning thus the roses in the lilac. They found the dairyman, who hastened to milk his cows, — astonished at seeing their stable in- vaded by this joyous band, — who turned their heads towards the invaders, while the frothing milk fell in marvellously clean bowls. As the dairyman had not a sufficient quantity of cups, Jean and Jeannette had' but one between them. Jeannette drank first, and Jean strove to find on the edge of the cup the imprint of the charming lips of the little lace-maker. The older ones and M. de Bonnard supplied themselves with wine, pre- ferring the juice of the vine to this Arcadian drink, only fit for youngsters recently weaned. Then came the time for separating. At the JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 109 moment of parting, Monsieur Jean asked whether he might again have the pleasure of seeing Mile. Jeannette, and she, after consulting for some min- utes with Justine, told him that the day after to-morrow she should go to take back some work to a customer, and if Monsieur Jean would be in the Rue Saint Martin, at three o'clock in the after- noon, they could take the walk together. Then the cab which had brought them came to take them home, and Madame de Champros^ en- tered her apartment by the secret stair- way, which was never lacking in even the most virtuous establishments of the eighteenth century, and under the armo- rial blazoning of her canopied bed went to sleep and dreamed more than once of Mon sieur Jean. ^^5^:. CHAPTER y. I HE beautiful sleeper did not awake till past midday, which was not unusual, for before that time she rarely rang for her maid. To all the world, excepting the faithful Justine, she had really passed the night in her hotel, and no one would suspect her escapade ; besides which, no one had a right to criticise, as she was a widow, and free to do as she chose. Still, it is so easy to do what one wishes, and yet guard the most nar- 110 JEAN AND JE ANNETTE. Ill row conventionalities, that it is only the awkward ones who voluntarily remove the varnish of good reputation, always agreeable and necessary. Justine's discretion was assured, for the mar- quise possessed a secret which her waiting-woman would not have had divulged for all the world ; besides, she had promised a considerable income to Justine, if she continued satisfied with her, after a certain number of years. Thus she felt certain of her fidelity, and ran no risk with her. The double curtains and padded shutters which protected this temple of sleep from light and noise were opened, and Phoebus, admitted to the infor- mal reception of the marquise, hastened to pay her his court. Justine got her mistress up, fa- tigued, or rather languid, after her great achieve- ments at the ball ; for Terpsichore, who gives such stiff joints to men, has never succeeded in really tiring a woman, whose lightness and grace have formed them for the dance. A bath was prepared ; Justine plunged her mistress into it, and if some indiscreet person could have found himself there, without being crowned by antlers and devoured by dogs, like Actaeon, he would have discovered more perfect charms than those of Diana, for it is quite 112 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. incredible that a goddess so perfectly made should have flown into a passion at being discovered naked. It must have been that she would have lost by it, and was not at all anxious that any one should be able to make a category of her charms not altogether favourable. This was not the case with Madame de Cham- pros^, of whom one could say that adornment added nothing to her charms, but rather detracted from them. As soon as Madame de Champros^ was seated in her warm and perfumed bath, a con- versation commenced between the mistress and maid ; we may imagine that it turned on the sub- ject of Monsieur Jean. " Did you not notice," said the marquise to Jus- tine, " how that young man differed from all the others at the ball, and did you not think that he had the most distinguished air of society ? " " I am of madame's opinion," said the complai- sant Justine ; " the youth was really most prepos- sessing." "He was neither brusque nor awkward in his manners." " Oh, as for that, no ; he had extremely good manners." JEAN AND JEANNETTE, 113 " He expressed himself most agreeably ; his words, although simple, were not less well chosen." " As for that, I must trust to the judgment ,of madame, who knows so much more about that than I ; besides, this young man spoke too low, and too near the ear of Mile. Jeannette for me to hear." " Do you think he is in love with me ? " "I believe that madame does not need to be enlightened by me upon that point." "He said many gallant things to me; he even made me a declaration ; but that is not enough ; I wish to know if he feels for me one of those strong and lasting passions, such as you tell me plebeians experience." " As far as I can judge from my slight knowl- edge. Monsieur Jean seems to me to have in his heart the germs of sincere love." " The germs only ? " "A little virtue and resistance will increase it to one of those passions of which I spoke to madame, and which do not exist in the great world." " Justine, it appears to me that you are a little impertinent. It would seem from your remarks 114 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. that we duchesses, marquises, and the like, do not hold ourselves sufficiently on the defensive in mat- ters of love." " Oh ! it is not for great ladies to trouble them- selves about such matters ; the rules of morality are made for the common herd ; they contain nothing to inconvenience a person of quality ; but I simply wished to insinuate that it was for this reason that the vicomtes and chevaliers and marquises only love superficially." " So, then, if I am to be loved by Monsieur Jean, you counsel me to be virtuous ? " " I should not dare to say that formally to madame for fear of being absurd, but madame has my idea." " What a singular girl you are, Justine ! Truly, you have the imaginings of another world ; but I will conform to them if only to see what will happen." " Does madame wish to leave her bath ? " " Yes, wrap me in a dressing-gown and put me to bed, and we will continue the conversation." When Madame de Champros^ was settled on her pillows, which Justine shook up with a deft hand, the conversation was resumed between mistress JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 115 and maid : " Justine, it may be contrary to your ideas of virtue, but I have made an appointment with Monsieur Jean — in the open air, it is true, and so of no importance, but still a rendezvous." " Madame, I do not blame you at all for that. Since you desire to continue this adventure, it is necessary not to lose all traces of him. Without this appointment, how should we find Monsieur Jean, at least without asking his whereabouts of M. de Bonnard, who knows him ? " " You have a quick wit, Justine, but this proj- ect, although well conceived, will still be embar- rassing in its execution." " If Madame la Marquise will deign to leave to me the details and fatigue of execution, I will disclose to her my plan of procedure ; but first she must give me twenty-five louis." " Take them ; there is plenty of gold in the little rosewood bureau near the window." " I have them." " Continue now." "With these twenty-five louis, I am going to rent a pretty, modest little apartment, fit for a pru- dent girl, and furnish it with such belongings as the nimble fingers of an accomplished lace-maker 116 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. could earn ; for if you wish to meet Monsieur Jean later, with more ease and secrecy than in the street, you would completely destroy his illusion by receiving him at the H6tel de Champros^, where your porter would be greatly astonished at having to announce so ordinary a name." " You reason wonderfully, Justine. This room appears to me the most necessary thing in the world." "I will engage it to-day, since madame agrees. It will also be necessary to have a complete trous- seau, dresses, wrappers, jackets, and mob-caps — for the wardrobe of Madame de Champrosd, well furnished as it is, will not serve Mile. Jeannette : too much of the world's goods is sometimes in- jurious! " " You are as sententious as a philosopher, but you are right, Justine, and every philosopher is not that. The trousseau is granted, but everything must be in good taste. I do not wish to push this disguise to the point of not looking pretty." " Rest content ; you will have only fine linen that will not chafe you, of striped pink and white or blue and white, sprigged Indian muslins and other fresh, springlike stuffs which the season ad- JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 117 mits of and which cost little. Then, as madame is blonde and her hair without powder will show more, we will make her some simple and coquet- tish little caps, and seeing that Jeannette is a lace- maker, we will have them of lace." " That will be charming," cried the marquise, clapping her hands in her enthusiasm over these toilets, of which the idea was as delightful to her as a repast of brown bread, strawberries, and cream, spread on a fresh lawn before a farm- house in the spring, would appear to a gourmet. " Madame would look her very best if dressed in rags ; she adorns all that she wears, and, besides, things need not always cost much to be pretty, and let us hope she will not disdain her grisette's ward- robe." " That which troubles me most is not to wear silk stockings." " There are thread and cotton stockings so fine that madame will not notice the difference. You might even risk silk stockings without being out of keeping, for the most stylish grisettes permit themselves this luxury." " You reassure me, Justine, but how shall we arrange about the interview for to-morrow ? I 118 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. cannot leave my hOtel at three o'clock dressed as a grisette." " Certainly not ; but madame can drive in her car- riage to some church or shop which has another entrance, where a cab can wait for us. We will enter it and go to Jeannette's apartment, where I will dress madame in such a fashion as to make her believe she has all her life been a lace-maker." These preliminaries being arranged, Justine as- sisted the marquise in rising, and, after putting her in the hands of the maids who completed her toilet, she left her, having obtained permission to go out. The abbe was introduced and admitted, as usual, to pay his court; and notwithstanding the suffer- ing which he complained of as caused by ardent love, his clear colour appeared very fresh for a man who was roasted, burned, and reduced to ashes, as he expressed his condition. The chevalier appeared a little later, followed by the commander, who preceded the financier, so that the ordinary household of Madame de Champros^ was present in full muster. They were all enchanted to find the marquise in better spirits, which they unanimously attributed to the excursion to Cours-la-Reine. But among all JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 119 these acute observers, no one divined that the fresh- ness of Madame de Champros^ came from having passed the night at a ball, and that the fire of her eyes came from a love which was for none of them. Justine did not lose any time, and in truth there was none to lose, since all had to be ready by the next day. She rented, near a church, a room with a closet, at the price of a hundred and forty francs a year, of which she at once paid a quarter's rent. Then she sought out a shop for second-hand furniture, and took great care in selecting the furnishings for the apartment of Mile. Jeannette, choosing only what was perfectly clean, but did not look as if it had been too recently bought. Then, with the aid of two expert uphol- sterers, she soon had the nest ready to receive the bird. She also bought at a linen shop kept by one of her friends, ready-made linen, and four well-paid dressmakers cut, tacked, and sewed the various fabrics she brought them, after a pattern fitted to Madame de Champrose's slender form. The next day all came off as arranged. Leav- ing her house in her carriage and in her customary clothes, Madame de Champrose was driven to the Church of Saint R , where she entered by one 120 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. door and passed out by another, and found in the> cab waiting for her a mantle which Justine had brought to throw over her fashionable costume, so that she might ascend to her little apartment with- out attracting attention. The stairway was rather steep, built like a ladder in a mill : a heavy balustrade of wood bordered it on one side, on the other was a rope by which to aid oneself in ascending. It differed widely from the staircase of Madame de Champros^'s hStel, so conveniently arranged by the architect Ledoux, ornamented by bas-reliefs of infant revelries, and protected by an open-flowered balustrade, the work of the celebrated locksmith. Amour ; but this con- trast rather pleased the marquise, who rested trem- blingly on these rough steps a foot accustomed to polished marble and velvet carpets. In entering her chamber, Madame de Champros^ could feel only the greatest satisfaction in Justine's zeal, for this little nest, although nothing in it was beyond mediocrity, seemed created as the resting- place of innocence and love. If Madame de Champrose had been a philoso- pher, which she was not, she might have made a thousand wise reflections on the folly of mortals JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 121 who torment themselves in a thousand ways to obtain luxuries not at all necessary to happiness. In short, this interior, which the painter Chardin, so rightly praised by M. Diderot, would have loved to reproduce, formed, with its gray wood, its worn carpet, its mantel of imitation marble surmounted by a camaieu, its narrow windows, some of whose panes had a bull's-eye in the centre, with its flower-pots of blossoms, and its tranquil, sober light, a much more effective background for the beauty of the marquise than her opulent boudoir encumbered with china grotesques, Sevres bisques, imposts by Boucher, water-colours by Baudoin, and a thousand costly superfluities. The furnishings were of the simplest, but Jus- tine had forgotten nothing. A little bed of gray wood, set off with white, was half concealed under modest Persian curtains ; several chairs with hinds' feet ; an armchair of Utrecht green velvet, slightly worn but free from spots or holes, where, one would swear, the grandmother had sat for the last ten years ; a marquetry chest of drawers with a marble top, furnished with drawers with wrought brass handles; a little well-polished table, doing honour to the cleanliness of some Flemish house- 122 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. keeper, and on which rested the bits of board, skeins of thread, pincushions, and bobbins which are the lace-maker's paraphernalia. These, with a looking-glass, completed the furnishings of a lit- tle home, which subsequently caused Madame de Champros^ to see that lavish expenditure was by no means necessary for the housing of happiness. The window, for this little chamber had not long since been the home of a veritable grisette, was wreathed about with sweet peas, blind weed, and nasturtiums, some in flower, some in bud, others yet waiting to spread out their heart-shaped leaves, and twist their tendrils about the threads fastened for them by some provident hand. This window looked out on the gardens of a large hfitel in the neighbourhood, and by this happy accident the window of Jeannette escaped the ordinary Paris horizon of roof angles, and chimney-pots, and ugly walls discoloured by rain, not built as could be wished in order to give pleasure to the eye. The tops of the chestnut-trees, variegated with flowers, were swaying, and the breeze wafted their bitter perfume on the tips of its wings. The examination of the lodgings being finished, she turned her attention to her toilet, which was JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 123 soon completed. It consisted only in the changing of a dress and a coiffure for more simple ones. Thanks to the consimimate ability of Justine, the metamorphosis was complete. It is not, perhaps, as easy as it appears, to change a marquise into a grisette — the contrary would, perhaps, be easier. Justine averred later that this toilet had been the supreme effort of her genius, and that not one of madame's court dresses had cost half the effort to conceive, or seemed so difficult in its execution. Madame de Cham prose now threw a look into her mirror, which she had disregarded till this moment, as Justine had begged her to wait and see the entire change in her appearance, rather than watch the transformation in detail, so that the surprise might be greater. The marquise was at the same time astonished and charmed. She found herself of an unimagined beauty, more distracting than ever, and hardly rec- ognisable, everything about her being changed, even to the colour of her hair and her complexion. From the absence of rouge and powder, her air, her ex- pression even, was no longer the same ; instead of her piquant grace, grand air, and insolent beauty, she had a gentle, modest, virginal, almost infantine 124 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. appearance, for this fresh simplicity had made her look younger by several years. She was even more beautiful than at the ball of the previous evening, when, dressed in Justine's clothes, she had taken with them something less pure and less distin- guished ; for clothes mould themselves after the character of those who wear them, the souls of their wearers giving them a certain individuality. Justine's was the soul of a waiting-woman. " Madame sees that she can lose her fortune without risking her beauty, and that her charms need neither fashion, nor jewels," said Justine, with a legitimate feeling of pride. "All that madame wears did not cost thirty francs." " But, then, it is Justine who has dressed me," said Madame de Champrose, willing to pay her maid a compliment. " But it is past three o'clock ; give me that bandbox, and conduct me to the corner of the Rue Saint Martin, where you may leave me to my fate." CHAPTER VI. ER disguise completed, Madame de Cham- prose descended the stairs, followed by her loyal maid, who held her by the arm with obsequious carefulness. It seemed very strange to the marquise to be walking in the streets. For the first time she found herself in contact with the pavement of Paris, so muddy, so uneven, so slippery, and yet so full of charm to the ob- 126 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. server and moralist who know how to glean a thousand strange or philosophical anecdotes from it. She met the common people on the same foot- ing, — she who till now had regarded them only from the height of her coach, — and was astonished at discovering among these sad and wan faces, on many of which misery had set its imprint, the coun- terparts of many faces she had met at the large or small receptions given at Versailles. Contrary to the habit of grisettes, who move in and out of embarrassing crowds, the marquise walked with adorable awkwardness. She hesitated at each step, and seemed to try each bit of pave- ment, as a new dancer tests the rope with her chalked slipper. The carriages frightened her and made her utter little cries. Her heart beat strongly, as that of all pretty women going in search of an adventure, for without being as rig- orous as a vestal, the marquise had never been in the habit of committing serious indiscretions, and she felt considerable disturbance. It is true that evil tongues might have said that Madame de Champrose was not yet twenty, and that without doubt she would mould herself after JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 127 the Duchesse de B , la Baronne de C , and the Prdsidente de T . While walking, she thought over the boldness of her undertaking, which had appeared so simple while planning it, — so greatly does a scheme differ from its execution. The dream is always charm- ing ; but reality brings out certain coarse exigencies of a situation calculated to wound delicate souls, which the thought of the same would not alarm. Passers-by stared at her with a curiosity that an- noyed her, until Justine reminded her that these glances, which would be impertinent if directed at Madame de Champrose, ought not to offend Mile. Jeannette, who was carrying work home in the city. After passing a few streets, the false Jeannette entered with more spirit into her r61e, springing along the pavement without spotting her pretty pearl-coloured silk stockings with mud, and meet- ing the admiring glances and words of passers-by in a more composed fashion. Justine, bold and sharp as a soubrette in a comedy, formed the wings and rear-guard, and kept at a distance the brusque attempts of young libertines and of those luxurious old men who had not changed their character since the bath of Susannah. In this manner, they reached 128 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. the Rue Saint Martin, the scene of the rendezvous. There Justine was to leave her mistress, for it is not the custom for grisettes to have maids or com- panions to follow them in walking about the city. However, she did not go far, but kept on one side, watchful in case her mistress should need her. Madame de Champros^, after Justine had left her, felt, in spite of the crowded street, more alone than in an African or American desert ; then, sum- moning up all her courage, she commenced passing along the house fronts like a furtive swallow. Her solitude did not endure long. Monsieur Jean, although the hour for the appointment had not yet struck from the clock of the church, had been for some time waiting. For if punctuality is the politeness of kings, the courtesy of lovers is to be before the time ; if one does not arrive too early, one arrives too late. Monsieur Jean, who had perceived Jeannette in the distance, while pretending to examine a miser- able signboard, with the legend the " Cat Fishing," as an apparent reason for standing there, advanced quickly towards the beautiful lace-maker, whom he saluted very respectfully when he found himself face to face with her. JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 129 Jeannette pretended to be astonished when Mon- sieur Jean addressed her, as if the meeting had been the result of chance, and the most beautiful blush tinted her cheeks; for, although she was a society lady, Madame de Champros(3 had the pecu- liarity of blushing at the slightest emotion. When Justine saw Monsieur Jean walking to- wards Jeannette, and the couple turn their steps towards the boulevard, with an air of perfect under- standing, she believed that her supervision was use- less, and discreetly retired, leaving the field clear to her mistress. Nothing could be more charming than this group. One would have said that Love, disguised as a clerk, was seeking the conquest of Psyche playing at being a grisette. The men passing them remarked, " How beautiful she is ! " the women, " How well-formed he is ! It is Cupid, it is Yenus ! " And each wished for such a mistress, or such a lover. The occupants of the Rue Saint Martin, although accustomed to see so many beautiful working girls and charming seekers after adventure pass their shops, seemed astonished at so much grace. In short, it was difficult to dream of anything 130 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. more charming than Jeannette. The coming of Monsieur Jean, although she had expected him, had brought to her cheeks roses which Flora might have envied for her basket. A soft fire animated her blue eyes veiled by their long blond lashes, like fans of gold, and her bosom, agitated by the beating of her heart, stirred slightly the lawn of her corsage. As for Monsieur Jean, he bore under his neat and simple clothes such an air of distinction as to make one doubt the honour of his mother, for it was difficult to believe that such an Adonis could come of provincial stock, and it seemed as if some man of fashion, passing by, must have made love to Madame Jean. This was the way Madame de Champrose explained the matter to herself, persuaded as she was of the plebeian family of Monsieur Jean. As for the reader, he will not be at all astonished at the fine appearance of the young man when he recalls the ennui of the Vicomte de Candale at the supper given by Guimard, his coldness to Rosette in the vis-d-vis, and the whim which had taken him to the Moulin-Rouge, to end his night in a less fashionable but more entertaining manner. JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 131 "I was afraid that you would not come," said Jean, entering into the subject without the slightest embarrassment. A look from Jeannette, full of soft reproach, and which it was impossible to translate other than, " You knew very well that I would come," was her sole reply. " My heart beats very strongly, for it is more than an hour since I have been pretending to examine the signs above the shops." " However, I was not late," replied Jeannette, raising a taper finger towards the church steeple, which the couple were at this moment passing. " Love is always ahead of time, and for him the best regulated clocks are those which stop as soon as they have to strike the hour for an appoint- ment." " Monsieur Jean, you have a gallantry — " "I am gallant, no — in love, yes. The fine men of society are gallant, and know how to say a thousand amiable impertinences, but we people of common clay are impassioned and sincere ; it is not our minds, but our hearts that speak." At these words, uttered with fire, Madame de Champros^ thought that Justine had reason for 132 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. pretending that, to be loved in this fresh and nice fashion, it was necessary to go lower in the social scale. " Ah, well, yes, I admit that you are in love, but it is not necessary to gesticulate in such a fashion as to make all passers-by look at us." " Pardon, mademoiselle, permit me to offer you my arm ; in walking near you, I have the air of a stranger who seeks to jostle, perhaps insult you. If you accept it, you are under my protection, and if your beauty attracts comment, at least my pres- ence will force it to be respectful." The Marquise de Champrosd, who felt that this reasoning was correct, and who would even have agreed to it if it had not been, leaned her del- icate hand in its thread mitten on the well- brushed sleeve of Monsieur Jean ; thus guided, she walked with a more assured step over the slippery pavement, and soon found herself on the boulevard. " But I should like to return home now," said Jeannette, in the most artless and modest manner. She was not sorry to prolong this interview, nor to give in such a simple manner her address to Mon- sieur Jean. JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 133 " Go home ! nothing easier ; but where is your home ? " Jeannette named the street, but as she only knew the streets of Paris from passing through them in her carriage, it was impossible for her to find the way. It would have appeared inconceivable to one less in love, and less preoccupied than Monsieur Jean, that a young lace-maker should not know the way to her own house. The young woman gave as an excuse that a friend went habitually with her, who knew the way about the city intimately, but that to-day she did not bring her, for a reason that Monsieur Jean, without doubt, appreciated. No young man could find fault with such an excuse, and Monsieur Jean was more than content with it. As for him, his position as one recently arrived from the provinces prevented his knowing anything of the streets of Paris ; there was no way but to ask the direction from crossing to crossing, which would be very tedious, or else take a cab ; and it must be confessed that, however reserved and modest Monsieur Jean might be, the prospect of a tHe-d-tHe in the rolling boudoir, as they called 134 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. a cab, and not in such a conspicuous manner, ap- pealed to him very strongly. He proposed this last way to Jeannette, who accepted it with a blush; but she was beginning to feel fatigue, for never before in her life had she walked so far. To find a cab was only the work of a moment, for one was passing slowly, the body painted a deep blue and the upholstering of old yellow Utrecht velvet. To lovers, at times, a cab may be as delightful as a grove of Cythera. Our two lovers mounted within, and during the journey, which unhappily was not long, Jean, with respectful hardihood, seized the hand of Jeannette, which she did not withhold too strongly, and covered the rosy tips with kisses. The carriage stopped, and the word " already ! " naively escaped the lips of Madame de Champros^ — an exclama- tion that pleased Monsieur Jean extremely, for with her it seemed an avowal, or at least the preface to one. Monsieur Jean, who had given his hand to Jean- nette to assist her in descending from the cab, did not let go the pretty little fingers, which he held delicately pressed between his own. Strict propriety would have demanded that he JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 135 salute her and retire ; but Monsieur Jean, although from the provinces, and with the most respectful manners in the world, was not a man to let an opportunity slip through his fingers when he felt himself to be master of the situation. He followed Jeannette to assist her in ascending the stairs, although she pretended to be able to do it very easily alone, grisettes not keeping squires to help them. With a gentle but obstinate insistance, and de- spite the courtesy which Jeannette made him on reaching the door, he entered the room ; and with such an air of frankness, respectfulness, and re- serve that Jeannette could not feel offended. " Ah ! what will Justine say ? " thought the mar- quise. " At the second interview the enemy has entered the citadel, and my heart is sounding a parley." A little fatigued by her walk, and even more moved than she dared to own to herself, Madame de Champros^ threw herself into her armchair, and fanned herself with her handkerchief, although the day was not hot. Taking a little footstool. Monsieur Jean proceeded to seat himself at the feet of Jeannette, which was 136 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. not at all awkward, thought the marquise, for one from Auxerre ; for this position, so respectful in appearance, and which may be taken opposite to queens, has the advantage of lending itself not less to audacity than to adoration. It is only a great strategist in the war of love who could place himself there so early in the battle, and authorities in such matters have always recommended it. It showed then in Jean a master-hand. " You are extremely well lodged, Mile. Jean- nette," said Monsieur Jean, looking about him. " Yes," answered Jeannette, negligently ; " there is room enough to work and to sing in." " And to love ! " " Oh, as for that, I know nothing. My Aunt Ursula had principles ; and, with her repulsive manner, she used to meet the advances of the gallants very harshly. Unhappily she died this last year; poor aunt!" and here Jeannette raised towards the ceiling an eye as dry as possible. " God keep her soul ! " exclaimed Jean, with an air of commiseration. In fact, he did not regret the death of this cross old aunt — this dragon, who guarded the apples of the Hesperides. " And you live alone here ? " JEAN AND JE ANNETTE. 137 " I see only my cousin Justine ; you know, it was she who took me to the ball ; she is a very good girl. I only go out during the week to carry home my work, and on Sundays, to go to mass and to vespers." "Heavens! but virtue lives here," thought Monsieur Jean, applying to the grisette the words of Moliere to the beggar. "My father and mother have been dead since I was very young, and now I have only Justine. You are the first stranger who has set foot in this retreat. My cousin will scold me well for haying let you enter." "And I thank you for it as for a precious favour. One cannot watch the warbler fly without longing to see its nest, and it will be a very sweet satisfaction to me, in thinking of you, to place behind your image the natural background belong- ing to it. By day, I shall see you seated in that great armchair near the window, a ray of sunlight gilding your hair, and those fingers made to hold a sceptre occupied with work. At night, I shall imagine your maidenly head, filled with childlike dreams, asleep on the pillows of that little blue and white bed, and I shall know in the morning that 138 JEAN AND JEANNETTE, those are the flowers whose perfume you breathe, when, to shame Aurora, you go and open your casement window." " Oh, Monsieur Jean, you talk like a writer and a poet. Are you an author, and are you writing a piece for the Comedie ? " said Jeannette, with an air of alarm. " Reassure yourself, Mile. Jeannette, I am not sufficiently devoid of poetry to write verses." " Oh, so much the better ! If I loved any one, I should wish him to have talent only for me." " So, then, you live contented ? " " Yes ; my work in lace, which has nothing in it painful or repugnant to me, and which I do even for amusement, gives me enough to live upon. It is true I see but little." "And do you not feel that you lack some- thing?" " Nothing. Do I not have good milk for my breakfast, and a kind neighbour who prepares my humble dinner, for we lace-makers are obliged to keep our hands clean ? Is not my furniture nice, above all, since my Aunt Ursula left me her great armchair with ears, and her beautiful bureau with its brass handles ? There are very few grisettes JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 139 who live so proudly and independently as I. 1 have a morning wrapper for each season of the year — green for the springtime, rose for summer, lilac for autumn, and golden brown for winter, without counting my frocks for every day. While as for my caps, that need not embarrass me ; I make my- self what is necessary to trim them, and I treat myself like a good customer." In making this enumeration of her riches, Jean- nette rose and displayed her dresses, with a child- ish coquetry admirably well assumed, or, perhaps, natural. These garments, although so simple, were in good taste, coming from the best hands, and were able to flatter the marquise, for they rendered her pretty in the eyes of Monsieur Jean. " You have no need of all that to be beautiful," said this gallant young phcenix from Auxerre, after having admired Jeannette's riches. " Oh, no, indeed ! That is all very nice, but you can never make a young girl believe that a pretty bonnet spoils a pretty face, or that a new dress adds nothing to a fine figure." Monsieur Jean, recalling to himself a little too clearly the Yicomte de Candale, had on the tip of 140 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. his tongue a broad, mythological retort, much more appropriate in Guimard's house, or in the foyer of the Opera, than in the chaste attic of a modest gri- sette, but he limited himself to saying that a fine setting embellished beauty, — an axiom which women have always received favourably, and which was well illustrated a century later by a famous writer of comic operas. This concession made, he returned to his first idea, and continued : " A chair with ears, a bureau with brass handles, cannot fill the heart, above all a heart of seventeen. Justine is an agreeable com- panion, but to be two women together is to be alone. Have you never desired to have a friend ? " " Oh, yes ; but my aunt has always taught me that men were only wheedlers of women, and that there could never be a friendship between a young man and woman." " A friendship, no ; but love ? " " Love is a sin." " The most charming sin in the world, and the one which Heaven pardons most easily," said Mon- sieur Jean, drawing Jeannette towards him, who repulsed him with such a feeble " Let me alone," that he did nothing of the kind, but kissed the rosy JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 141 forehead of the young girl, which was just on a level with his hps. The sound of a step on the stairs recalled Jean- nette to a sense of virtue. Monsieur Jean, think- ing that such an occasion might come again, let go the dove he was holding by the wing, and made his adieux with the most courteous air in the world, after having made a rendezvous for the following Sunday. To keep herself in countenance, Madame de Champrose took an imperfect book from the shelf, — " Huon de Bordeaux," or the " Four Sons of Aymon," we do not know which, — and threw herself into the armchair, her feet on the footstool, and waited patiently for Justine ; for the noise on the stairway had been only a false alarm. CHAPTER Vn. JUSTINE, having seen her mistress safely under the care of Monsieur Jean, had profited by the occasion to pay a visit to her counter-jumper, a fresh, silly fellow, who seemed to her the type of true love, and whose solid gallantries pleased her more than the affected graces of the chevalier. If he did not choose his words, he had, when with women, a certain sort of eloquence which persuaded, and Justine found JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 143 him a Cicero in a tete-d-tete. So then they had a long conversation together, and when the maid went in search of Madame de Champros^, in the chamber of Jeannette, it was already the dusk of evening. Her mistress held a book in her hand, more to look occupied than for amusement, for she had been too much aroused for that. To a woman the romances she makes are more amusing than those she reads, be they those of the citizen of Geneva, of Monsieur Voltaire, or of M. de Cr^billon, the younger. The wary Justine, who had arranged on her way back an excuse for her rather prolonged absence, had no need of it. Madame de Champrose had not perceived Justine's tardiness ; she did not even notice the brilliant eyes and reddened cheeks of her maid, nor that her hair, which she had read- justed, looked still somewhat awry, which might have made her suspect that Justine's time had not all been given up to acting as sentinel. Besides, the marquise, kind and indulgent, would never have taken exception to it, especially at this mo- ment, when she had no need of her. " Ah ! It is you, Justine," said the marquise, 144 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. starting out of her reverie with a little cry, which rather indicated surprise than impatient waiting. " I am at madame's orders," replied the sou- brette, courtesying with a most contrite and re- spectful air. " Get me out of these clothes," said the mar- quise, putting herself into the hands of her waiting- woman. "That can easily be done; 1 have everything here to reproduce Madame de Champros^." The skilful Justine with a few touches of the comb caused the lace-maker to disappear and Madame de Champros^ to take the place of Jean- nette. The striped skirt, the lawn fichu, the gray silk stockings, and the little shoes with buckles disappeared as by magic, giving place to the gar- ments of a person of rank, who does not care to attract the eye. Thus accoutred, Madame de Champrose, followed by Justine, entered the cab which awaited them and was driven to her h8tel, where her absence, having been satisfactorily ex- plained, had called forth no comment. During the drive, Justine had respected the silence of her mistress, who, with her heart agi- tated by these new emotions, gave herself up to JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 145 their sweetness; a fresh astonishment rendered her at the same time absent-minded and joyous. Although she said nothing, her charming face was alive with thoughts. The financier and the abbd, who this evening dined with her, found her most charming, without knowing why, and of a beauty they had never seen in her before ; for it may be said, without making a disrespectful comparison, that a woman is like a race-horse : to see her at her best you must excite her. And certainly Madame de Champrose had a soul this evening. She smiled agreeably on the financier, and treated the abbe much better than usual. She laughed at their pleasantries, which gave her a chance of pouring out a little of her inward gaiety, as if they said the most piquant and witty things, not'Rathstanding the financier Bafogne had about as much wit as one of his coffers, and the grace of a sack ; and the abbe, although he knew Latin as well as the jargon of the street, did not sufficiently equalise the two to make an enter- taining talker. But, as certain philosophers have said, who, in spite of their obscurity, are wise, nothing exists but in ourselves. It is our gaiety or our sadness that renders the horizons smiling or 146 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. gloomy ; a person having a joyous soul finds en- joyment where others less happy find nothing to interest them. Madame de Champrosd, being in this light-hearted frame of mind, could have amused herself very well with men less agreeable than the abb^ and the financier. However, towards the end they fatigued her, for their noisy bursts of laughter became uproarious and inconvenient, distracting her from thoughts too agreeable to be lost in the conventionalities of a trifling conversation. To indicate to her guests, who seemed inclined to prolong their evening, that the hour for depar- ture had come, she made one of those little faces which men of the world comprehend at once, although sometimes the idea of leaving a rival alone with the lady of their thoughts makes them turn a deaf ear to the plea. The marquise contracted her rosy mouth into a little nervous yawn, checked politely by the palm of her hand, but significant enough for any one who would understand to comprehend. As the financier, who had risen and taken his hat at the second yawn, saw that the abb^ did not stir, he reseated himself with obstinate jealousy. Seeing JEAN AND JE ANNETTE. 147 Bafogne take up his position in his easy-chair like a man who had arranged himself for the remain- der of the night, and the abb^ posed opposite him like a china dog, Madame de Champros^ felt she must make a decided move, and demanded the hour in a bored and fatigued tone of voice. The abb^, who was more accustomed to society than the financier, understood that it was bad taste to remain longer, and by a dexterous manoeuvre seized the arm of Bafogne, saying, in a light and off-hand manner : " Come along, my dear fellow, don't you see the dear marquise has need of rest ? " Bafogne, although greatly put out, could do nothing but imitate the abb^ in the profound salutation he made the marquise. These two men gone, Madame de Champros^, over whom Morpheus seemed but just now to have distilled his strongest poppy juices, composed of expositions of tragedies and academic discourses, now found herself of a sudden as wide awake as a cat watching a bird. She rose from the duchesse where she had been nonchalantly extended with the dying graces of a woman tired out, took two or three turns around 148 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. the room, then going to the fireplace, pulled the silk cord of the bell. At the silvery tinkle of the bell Justine ap- peared at once, for she felt that the hour for con- fidential conversation had arrived; and she held herself in readiness in the antechamber, to appear at the first summons. Justine was too much a waiting-woman of a great house to ignore the advantages to a soubrette of consultation in the love affairs of her mistress. When she had undressed Madame de Cham- pros6, who put on a great bed-wrap of India muslin trimmed with quantities of deep Malines lace, and placed on the pillow a little coquettish cap, with butterfly wings, producing a most charming effect, Justine, pretending to retire, put the decisive question : "Does madame need anything further?" " Remain, Justine, I am not at all sleepy," said the marquise, raising herself on her pretty pink elbow, sunk in the batiste pillow cover. " Madame has something to tell me ? " " Look at the cunning wretch with her air of astonishment ! Certainly 1 have something to tell you." JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 149 " I am listening," replied Justine, crossing her arms adorned with mitts. "It seems I must commence myself, for you affect a very close mouth. What is your opinion of Monsieur Jean ? " " I have the highest opinion of him." « He has beautiful teeth ! " « Very beautiful ! " " A fine form ! " " Very fine ! " " Ah, Justine, is your part of the conversation to be only an echo ? " " I am only of the same opinion as madame. Monsieur Jean appears to me to be a most accom- plished young man ; he is graceful, dresses becom- ingly, and dances ravishingly. As for his intellect, I have nothing to say, as he talked only to Mile. Jeannette ; but intellect is not necessary in love." " He has much of it, I assure you, and of the finest." " So much the worse." " Why so much the worse ? It spoils nothing." " I believe that madame wishes a love of the freshest order." " Yes ; but is it necessary to be a fool to love ? " 150 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. " There is a saying : ' To love like a simpleton ; * and proverbs contain the wisdom of nations." " What have these poor young men of wit done, that you should malign them at every turn ? " " Madame, they have done nothing to me at all." " And is that the reason you prefer the simple tons?" "Is not that a reason ?" " Reassure yourself. Monsieur Jean has not that wit which you fear." " I will not conceal from madame that, at first, I suspected he might be a poet, from a certain melan- choly air that he has." " For shame ! His nails are too well kept, his hair in too good order, his stockings too well drawn up for that ; and, besides, I have remarked nothing nonsensical in his way of expressing himself." " Since madame is sure he is not a scribbler, I find him charming at every point." " Do you think that he loves me after the fashion I desire ? " " I believe it ; one would judge him distractedly in love with madame — with ]\Ille. Jeannette, I should say." "Oh, certainly! he would never have the ef- JEAN AND JE ANNETTE. 151 frontery to raise his eyes to the Marquise de Champros^." " Perhaps ! I find a certain fire in his eye, and he has the air of possessing a courageous heart." " But it is necessary that he remain ignorant that Mile. Jeannette is a marquise." " Nothing is easier, for the young man will not go in the places madame frequents, and assuredly does not ride in the coaches of the king." " Besides, if he should meet me he would not rec- ognise me. You have certainly made two different beings of me, so that, when I have on my back Jeannette's jacket, I do not know truly who I am." " And when does madame expect to see him again, this handsome young gallant ? " " Sunday, the day when I am supposed to have no task to fulfil, and no work to do in the city." " If I could dare give madame any advice, I would recommend her, for the truthfulness of the r81e, to be a little shy with Monsieur Jean, and when he shows a disposition to be tender, if he is too free, give him a little slap on his fingers. That is the fashion of the common people." " As if I would say to him, ^Jinissez/' in a tone of the Opdra Comique." 152 JEAN AND JE ANNETTE. " I said this, madame, because if Jeannette, who in her lowly sphere ought to have old-fashioned ideas about virtue, allows herself at once the privi- leges of a lady of rank and fashion, Monsieur Jean will at once suspect a marquise." " But do you know that what you say is an impertinence ? " " Oh, madame cannot form an idea of the im- portance attached to these things among the lower classes. Any defeat is not possible before six weeks or three months of courtship ; and then, in forcing Monsieur Jean to be the perfect lover as among the bourgeois, madame will discover many things that she does not dream of to-day." " Mon Dieu, Justine ! but you are metaphysical this evening ! " " Have you ever been hungry ? " " What a singular question to ask me ! Never ! Are people hungry ? " " The peasants and working people declare so." " Nothing tempts me at the table. I touch a blanc-mange ; I nibble the wing of a partridge ; I taste different stuffs ; I drink a drop of Barbadoes cream, and that is all." " Ah, well, if madame will go a day or two JEAN AND JE ANNETTE. 153 without eating, she would eat the top of a brown bread ravenously, and think it delicious, although she might find it full of sticks and bran." " Good ! You advise me to put myself on a low diet to give me an appetite ? " " Precisely." " There may be something true in what you say about that." " Fifteen days of resistance, and I predict that madame will find herself as much in love as a dressmaker." " And Monsieur Jean, what will he say of this regimen ? " " He will become infatuated with Mile. Jeannette to the point of committing all sorts of folly." " You tell me things that are extraordinary, but they seem to have a certain sense about them. You do well to strengthen me in these ideas, for this very day I nearly made a mistake, forgetting for the moment that Jeannette was not the Mar- quise de Champrosd. It was time, for my virtue, for you to return, and my romance was within an ace of commencing at the last chapter ; but for me to conform to your plans, I will henceforth be of a wonderful and plebeian modesty." 154 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. While carrying on this small talk, Madame de Cliamprosd allowed herself to be put to bed, and Justine retired when she saw that Morpheus was scattering his golden powder over the eyes of her beautiful mistress, which was not long in happen- ing. The Marquise de Champros^ was not the only one who interested herself tenderly in the doings of Monsieur Jean. Rosette, the dancer, had also, since the supper at Guimard's, thought with the greatest persistency of the Vicomte de Candale. Rosette, who had a faithful heart, notwithstanding her life a la Manon Lescaut (and one must say in her favour that it was then only possible in that way to reach the Op^ra), experienced emotions rare enough in a member of the ballet but recently pro- moted : she loved ! That which had been most seductive to her in the vicomte was a certain sad grace, a vague air of ennui which, behind his wit, made one suspect a soul, a thing about which very few disquieted them- selves in the joyous eighteenth century. In these times it was necessary to have one's heart on one's lips, the nose in air, red on the cheek, either nat- ural or false, a strut of the leg, the sword in a JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 165 sheath, the opera-hat under the arm, the hand in a frill of lace, with the air of the Marquis de Mon- cade, offering sweetmeats from his bonboimiere, paying insipid compliments, or equivocal ones, singing the last couplets about the favourite, — to be gay, lively, smart, superficial, and above all laughing, for this was the epoch of Laughter, of Amusements, and Pleasures, which had become the reigning power in life, as in the ballets and the frieze-panels. Melancholia, that delicate flower of the soul, was considered a malady which, accord- ing to its etymology, had to do with M. Purgon and M. Fleurant. So Rosette needed a more affectionate and more refined disposition to love the vicomte at a moment when her companions and even women of elevated rank would have found that he was addicted to bitterness, and bored them by lack of wit and smartness. When he had glittered like artificial fire under the brilliant adornment of his costumes and his wit, and when, in the first moments of his conquests, he had not recognised their emptiness. Rosette had not felt herself touched by his merit, as she had been since ; a circumstance which tended to prove this enormous paradox, that, 156 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. during the reign of Cotillon III. at the Op^ra, a dancer had possessed a soul, — that which seems simply impossible, since women of this sort only love gold, contracts of rents, diamonds, silver plate, coaches, lackeys six feet in height, and other substantial benefits, and find their only amusement in indelicate pleasantries, in the slang of the foyer, or of debauchery. Poor Rosette had been profoundly astonished that Candale, after having conducted her home in his coach, had so virtuously bid her good-bye at the door of her chamber; for without vanity she believed herself made in a fashion not to deserve to be treated with such respect, and in all the reign of Louis XV. a similar act had probably never occurred. Rosette said nothing about it, for if this story had been divulged, it would have lost Candale his reputation. The next morning, much disturbed at this mis- adventure, she made a detailed examination of her charms ; she unrolled her hair, which was luxuri- ant, she looked at her teeth, examining them to their rosy gums. Never a young wolf, devouring his first lamb in the woods, had purer. She ex- amined her skin, smooth like satin or marble, the JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 157 smoothest in the world; and she did not jfind a crease, a wrinkle, a crack, or a red spot or a streak of dust. Hebe, the goddess of youth, Hygeia, the goddess of health, had assuredly less freshness. By a happy privilege, which comes more often to vice than to virtue, the cheeks of Rosette, notwith- standing the paint and the kisses, preserved that peach-like bloom which the lightest contact injures. She passed in review her arms, which were most beautiful, and her limbs, which all Paris admired, brilliant like marble under their silken covering, in the ballets of Dauberval. The result of this inspection was a smile. Rosette found herself beautiful. She was reassured, and gave herself, as explanation, that Candale had that evening some care on his mind, or that he had been fa- tigued, although the eighteenth century did not allow such a feeling. She formed a great resolution for a dancer, who was much more adroit with her feet than with her hands : she would write to the Vicomte de Candale. The danseuses, and even the great ladies of the eighteenth century, were not particularly brilliant by reason of their writing or spelling. The letters preserved of Madame de Pompadour, of Madame la 158 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. Popelini^re, have a charming style, but are written in a manner a cook would be ashamed of to-day. Rosette knew neither more nor less than the pretty women of her time about it. She took a great sheet of paper and traced on it, in letters long as your thumb, and in characters like hieroglyph- ics, the following note, which she would have written better had she dipped the end of her toe in the ink : My DEAR ViCOMTE : I am very uneasy about you, for without doubt you ■were ill the other evening, or troubled with remorse of con- science, when you -ndthdrew so brusquely and so ill-hu- mouredly. I suspect that you were hiding from me some great sin, when you were at my knees at the house of that great, bony Guimard. Come and finish your confession, and fear nothing; the penance wUl be sweet. I am at home to you all night and aU day, except from noon till two, when I practise a new step, with motions^ which will please you. It suits me much better than the rigadoons, the tambourines, and the reels. Adieu, my heart. Rosette, Second danseuse at the Op^ra. P. S. Is not Guimard too thin; and when she dances does she not look like a daddy-long-legs ? 1 Gargouillades : specially dances on the entrance of demons, fire- spirits, and comic dances generally. JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 159 This letter was carried to the H6tel Candale, and given to the vicomte on a beautiful silver platter, chased by Reveil. Candale was not surprised at the bold strokes and fantastic spelling, which he quite readily de- ciphered, and said to the tall lackey who awaited the reply, with that conceited air characteristic of the old-time lords of creation, half bored, half patronising : " Yery well, I will call." CHAPTER VIII. ■ HEN Madame de Champros^ awoke, her first thought was of Monsieur Jean. All her dreams had been of him. All night long, under the canopy of her bed, the noble mar- quise pictured herseK in the little chamber rented by Justine, dressed in the costume of Jeannette, seated in the armchair, — which looked exactly as if it had belonged to an aged person, — holding on JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 161 her knees the narrow board used by lace-makers, and weaving with her slender fingers invisible threads, which became badly tangled under the kisses of Monsieur Jean, devoutly kneeling on the little footstool before her. With change of sphere, Madame de Champros^ seemed to have changed soul and character. The constant attentions of the danglers, who bored her with insipid verses and sugared compliments, had produced on her the effect of sweets, of whipped creams, of iced meringues, which fill one without nourishing, and destroy the taste for wholesome food. With too many suitors to make any choice, too prejudiced to feel any desire, she passed her life in capricious nonchalance. Her amours had banished Cupid ; since she had met Monsieur Jean, Cupid had banished the amours. As soon as she was dressed, the desire to go to the little chamber became strong within her ; but Justine, who was prudent, notwithstanding her giddy airs, respectfully reminded her mistress that it would not be always possible to leave the hStel incognito, and that stratagems that succeeded once or twice, because they were improvised, might end by getting abroad and being discovered. 162 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. " Madame had better make a pretext of a visit to some ch§,teau in the country for six weeks." " Nothing would be easier ; but if I announce that I am going to one of my country places, I shall be expected there. Then my Paris friends would want to come and visit me, and all would be discovered." " It is not to one of madame's own chateaux that I should advise her to go." " With one of my friends the thing would be found out even more quickly." " Have I not heard madame say she had a rela- tive in Brittany ? " " It is true ; I never thought of her ; an ever- lasting old aunt, perched like an owl in an ancient donjon, in company with a pack of lesser owls, and with a name that hurts one's mouth, it is so hard to pronounce. They say that one has to pass over regular break-neck roads to reach this old castle, which overhangs the ocean at a height of some two or three hundred feet." " Ah, well, so much the better ; madame had better pay a visit to her aunt for a month or two." " Why do you say that, Justine ? " JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 163 " This relative of madame never comes to Paris or Versailles ? " " Oh, no ; she thinks she still lives in the time of Anne of Brittany and of the parliaments, and looks upon Paris as a Babylon of abominations." " That is exactly what we want ; madame, ac- companied by the faitliful Justine, will engage a post-chaise, excusing herself for not taking more servants on account of the peevish and whimsical temper of the old lady, and will start off with a great noise of bells and whips, ostensibly to visit her ; then at the first change of horses, we will don our shepherdesses' dresses, and return to Paris by another gate." " That is delicious ! " cried the marquise, clap- ping her hands joyously ; " in that way I shall have six weeks of liberty before me. Justine, you are truly a treasure ! " " Since Madame la Marquise deigns to say it, I will not contradict her," said Justine, with a comic courtesy. " I am well worth my price, and M. de Marivaux has put into his pieces at the Theatre Fran9ais soubrettes who are not my equals." Madame de Champrose made a little sign of assent, and everything was arranged as Justine had planned. 164 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. The departure having been duly announced, the post-chaise left the h6tel courtyard drawn by three vigorous horses, to the noise of the cracking of whips, which made the flogged sylphs utter pitiable cries that rent the air. The carriage soon traversed the dirty streets of the great city, covering those on foot with mud, running over dogs, overturning the philosophers who, after the manner of Rousseau, tried to get themselves run over, so as to be able to print in their papers declamations against the rich on be- half of the rabble, who always rejoice in that sort of invectives. They passed through the gate and entered the country. Although rain had fallen in the morning and the roads were soaking, the sky was brilliantly clear, and some pretty dappled clouds, as light as those painted on a ceiling by Fragonard, floated on a background of pale blue, as pure as that of the choicest Sevres china. The foliage was of a gay and tender green, — for it was still early spring, and Flora had not yet seen her flowers changed into fruits to fill the baskets of Pomona. This soft colouring rendered the horizon pleasant and smiling, like some rural scene painted for the JEAN AND JEANNETTE. 165 Op^ra by Boucher. The landscape, although less blue and apple green in the distance, had no less charm ; for Nature, although at times lacking in grace, and a little coarse, knows very well how to hold the palette and to manage the pencils, and if she were only a little more academic, there would be nothing to reproach her with. It is true that the personages who people these country places are not dressed in dove-coloured taffetas and in sea-green satin, like those in fres- coes or in pastoral pictures ; the feeding sheep hardly merited the term white, which Madame Deshoulieres lavishes on them ; they looked as if they had not been washed for many a day, if, indeed, they ever had been. The tender lambs did not wear on their necks any pink or blue favours, and if beautiful Phyllis had wished to press one to her heart, it would have inevitably soiled her corsage, ^ for nothing could be dirtier than were these lambs. These sheep astonished the marquise somewhat, for she had formed, from the verses of the abb^ and the paintings on her fans, an entirely different idea of the ovine family. * Corsage d echelle : body with a stomacher. 166 JEAN AND JEANNETTE. " What in the world is that heap of tatters saun- tering on two great, flat, ugly red feet?" " That, madame, is a shepherd." " That ! What are you telling me, Justine ? You are joking with me! A shepherd, that clumsy lout ! Impossible ! " "He does not much resemble those at the Opi AA 000 888 712 7 Ul'ill ! '!i !!iiihy lliiiilliS^^^ liiiilil ••■*M ■^iiiiii iiiilli: ,iiBiiiii'««liiiiii»^^^^^^^^ 1 I m « sti i iiiiiiiaiii^^^^ -•il6i. 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