A few moments later, Frontin ran to his master and said:
"Monsieur, our young neighbor's windows opposite are wide open, and she's sewing at one of them; you can see her at your ease."
Monsieur de Mardeille arose, saying:
"This devil of a Frontin! he insists that I must see his little shirtmaker. But beware! if you have disturbed me just to show me some commonplace face, I shall withdraw my confidence in your taste."
Although he pretended that he went to look at his new neighbor solely to oblige his servant, he was not at all sorry to assure himself whether she was in fact as attractive as Frontin said; for Monsieur de Mardeille had always been very fond of the fair sex; to seek to attract women had been almost the sole occupation of his life; and for the last few years that occupation had been much more laborious, and had demanded much more time and trouble. It is useless to appear only forty-four years old when one is fifty; there are women who think forty-four too old—usually those who are about that age themselves. A middle-aged man finds it easier to make the conquest of a mere girl than of a woman who has known life. Why is it? Probably because the former lacks the experience of the other.
Monsieur de Mardeille took up his position at one of his dining-room windows; he assumed a graceful attitude, leaning on the window sill; he pushed his cap a little farther over his right ear, then turned his eyes to this side and that, not choosing to let anyone suppose that he had come there to look at the new tenant of the entresol.
Soon, however, he carelessly cast a glance in that direction. Georgette was sitting at the window, sewing, and from time to time she too glanced into the courtyard; there is no law against a young woman's desiring to become acquainted with the faces of her neighbors.
Monsieur de Mardeille therefore was able to scrutinize the young shirtmaker's features at his leisure. She, when she raised her eyes from her work, saw plainly enough that her opposite neighbor was examining her; but that fact seemed not to embarrass her in the least, for she raised her head as often as before to look out of her window.
"Not bad! not bad!" muttered Monsieur de Mardeille; "a little nose à la Roxelane, fresh cheeks, eyes that look bright enough and saucy enough! But nothing extraordinary; I have seen all that a hundred times. She's rather a pretty girl, but nothing more. She doesn't deserve all your high-flown praise, my poor Frontin."
But thus far he had only seen Georgette seated, so that he had no opportunity to admire the shapeliness of her figure or the grace of her carriage. Luckily, chance willed—— But was it really chance? We will not take our oath to it; women are so quick at divining what is calculated to seduce us! But, no matter! let us charge it to the account of chance that it occurred to the girl to leave her seat to water a small pot of violets that stood on the other window sill.