“You must wait until another time.”
“You didn’t join me yesterday at the Café Turc; I waited in the garden till ten o’clock.”
“I am very sorry. Adieu!”
“But I say, what about my picture? Has Agathe my picture?”
I had ceased to listen, and was at the foot of the stairs. I scoured the neighborhood in search of a suitable room. I wanted one of which I could have immediate possession, and one that was not far from my own lodgings. I had not succeeded in finding what I desired,—they were all either too high up, or too dark, or too dirty,—and I was walking along with my nose in the air, looking for signs, when, as I paused in front of a porte cochère, I heard a faint cough near me. It seemed to me to be a simulated cough; I turned, and saw Nicette. I was within two yards of her stand and had no idea of it. Nicette looked at me, then lowered her eyes; she dared not bow to me or speak to me by daylight. Poor child! At that moment I remembered her bouquet, which I had entirely forgotten; I had never thanked her for her thoughtfulness. I walked up to her, and, as I selected a few flowers, told her in an undertone how deeply touched I was by her remembrance. She blushed with pleasure, and I walked away followed by her eyes.
At last I found what I wanted, on Rue Caumartin; two small rooms which were very neat and clean, very light, and could be occupied at once. It only remained to furnish them; and with plenty of money nothing is so easy. I hastened to an upholsterer’s, bought all that I required, and had it sent to the house with me. In less than three hours the little suite was completely furnished. At first I intended to supply only what was strictly necessary, but my self-esteem interfered; I determined to give Caroline a pleasant surprise; she must have an easy-chair for resting, and a sofa for us two. A pretty woman must have plenty of mirrors; but, above all else, she must have a dressing table and a comfortable bed. She must have curtains to shield her from the gaze of her neighbors; and they must be lined, to lessen the glare of the sun; lastly, she must have a little clock, so that we should not forget the time while talking of love, and I did not expect to talk of anything else to Caroline. All these little details carried me much further than I had at first proposed; but I would try to economize in some other direction, and those were extraordinary expenses and of infrequent occurrence.
At last everything was ready; I had the keys of the apartment. There was no concierge in the house; that meant one less spy. But I must provide for everything; Caroline would come that evening to take up her abode in that quarter, which was unfamiliar to her; I must, at the very least, be prepared to offer her some supper; surely there was a restaurant in the neighborhood, and I would go at once to order a dainty repast. But had I thought of everything that required to be done before my mistress should take possession of her new abode? would she have everything she needed? I decided to place fifteen louis in the commode, with which she could provide for her immediate wants; for in the first days of her changed position she would hardly feel like working, and that would be very excusable, a girl’s head is so easily turned! But we become accustomed to everything, and it seemed to me that if my pretty flowermaker chose to be respectable and orderly, and to behave herself, she might be very happy.
I went to the restaurant and ordered a dainty supper for nine o’clock. Then I set about trying to kill time until evening; it was dinner time, but I was not hungry; no matter! I determined to dine, as that would give me some occupation. When I had dined, it was six o’clock; I had still two hours and a half before me, which would never end, I thought. I decided to take a walk; it occurred to me that I should not be sorry to meet Raymond, to divert my thoughts. So I went to Rue Vivienne, where the milliner’s shop was in which Agathe was engaged; I was sure that Raymond would be prowling about the neighborhood.
As I drew near the shop, I saw a number of people collected about a paper pasted on the wall within a few yards of the door. I was not in the habit of stopping to read about lost dogs or other chattels; but I saw that everybody was laughing, and concluded that it was not one of those ordinary placards. I walked toward the crowd and listened:
“It’s a good joke,” said one.