He resolutely entered the house, and asked for an interview with the countess on business. She hesitated a little about receiving him; she knew that he was queer and she considered him a sort of maniac. She would have liked Marcel to be present at the interview; but she knew her old neighbor's sensitiveness, and she was afraid that she might impair Madame Thierry's interests by refusing to see him. So she bade her servant show him in. She was alone, but she thought that it would be the most absurd prudery to take alarm at a tête-à-tête with an old man whose rigid morals were well-known.
The rich man arrived prepared for a struggle; he imagined that he would have to fight to obtain this tête-à-tête. When he found that it was accorded him with no other obstacle than about two minutes of waiting, when he saw the slightly reserved but always courteous and affable greeting of his fair neighbor, his courage failed him. Like all those who have no opportunity to exchange their thoughts and no one to contradict them, he was as bold as any man could be in his projects; it was that boldness which had made him rich, and he had full confidence in it; but as he had never acted except behind the scenes, he was as incapable of taking a step in his own person on the stage of the world and of speaking to a lady, as he would have been of commanding a ship and negotiating with the Algonquin Indians. He turned pale, stammered, replaced his hat on his head, and fell into such dire confusion that Madame d'Estrelle, surprised and disturbed, was forced to come to his assistance by broaching the subject which, in her mind, was the motive of his visit.
"So we seem to be treading on delicate ground, my dear neighbor," she said to him in an amiable tone, "with respect to that wretched pavilion, which, I fondly hoped, was to establish a good understanding between us and put us on a neighborly footing. Do you know that I consider you unreasonable and that I am inclined to scold you?"
"I am mad, everyone knows that," rejoined Antoine sulkily. "If people keep on telling me so, they will end by making me believe it!"
"I ask nothing better than to be proved in the wrong," replied Julie; "but give me some good reason for accepting the gift you offer. I defy you to do it."
"You defy me? Then you wish me to speak? The reason is plain enough. I am interested in you."
"You are very kind!" said Julie, with an imperceptible smile of irony; "but——"
"But it's a fact, madame la comtesse, that you are made to make people think about you—and I was thinking about you, deuce take me! I said to myself: 'It's a pity that a person so—a lady who—in fact, a good woman should be hunted by bailiffs. I am only a vulgar fellow, but I have an idea that I'm not such a curmudgeon as the fine gentlemen and ladies of her family.'—That is why I said what I said; and you took offence at it, which shows that you look down on me."
"Oh! not that, no indeed!" cried the countess. "Look down on you because you wanted to do a kind deed? No, a hundred times, no! You know that that is impossible!"
"Then why refuse?"