XLVII
THE NEIGHBOR
On the following morning, Frédérique and I were in the salon on the ground floor; I was trying to extort some melody from a wretched piano, and she was laughing at my impatience, when her servant appeared and informed her that a lady desired to see her.
"A lady!" exclaimed Frédérique, in surprise; "but I don't expect any lady. Where does she come from?"
"It seems that she is the person who has hired the little house near by."
"And she thinks that, being a neighbor, she owes me a visit. Well, I will receive her, if it must be; but I propose to show her in short order that I don't choose to be intimate with my neighbors. Admit this lady who is in such a hurry to see me!"
The maid retired. I turned toward the door, curious to see the neighbor, who was said to be pretty; Frédérique continued to sit nonchalantly on the couch. A lady appeared; I made a gesture of surprise, and Madame Dauberny uttered a cry; we recognized Madame Sordeville.
Armantine seemed amazed to find me there; but she recovered herself at once and ran toward Frédérique, saying:
"It is I! You didn't expect to see me, did you? You had no idea that I had become your neighbor?"
"Why, no, surely not; I had not the slightest suspicion of it!" replied Frédérique, in a tone that was not precisely affectionate; "but who told you—how did you know that I lived in this house, where, by the way, I have been only a short time?"
"Mon Dieu! servants, you know, find out instantly who one's neighbors are, and, in the country especially, that is the first thing one thinks about."