The proprietor was out; so much the better. I complained and stormed because my flowers had not been sent. A girl rose and declared that she had left them at my rooms. It was not Caroline; therefore, it was not she who had come. I became calmer and shifted the blame onto my neighbor’s shoulders. The forewoman scolded the girl. I bought some more wreaths, pretending that I had forgotten to buy them on my first visit; and I asked to have them sent with me. This time Caroline was selected to be the messenger. At last I was to have an opportunity to speak to her freely, to be alone with her!
“One moment!” I said to myself; “I haven’t reached that point yet; I must not be too sure beforehand; one is so often disappointed!”
Mademoiselle Caroline walked with her eyes bent on the ground, and I remained at a respectful distance; but when we were a few steps from the shop, I put her into a cab, which took us to my domicile. She hesitated at first about entering the cab, but I urged her; she consented at last, and then she had no choice but to listen to all that love impelled me to say, if I may give the name of love to the caprice that had occupied my thoughts since the preceding night.
But obstacles give added value to the most trifling fancy, and sometimes transform a simple caprice into a deep-rooted sentiment. The difficulty which I had encountered in obtaining an interview with Caroline caused me to find a greater charm in her company; my words had more fire, more eloquence; and so little is required to convince a girl whose heart is already half vanquished.
Everything, therefore, led me to hope for the most perfect success. In time the cab stopped, we alighted, and Mademoiselle Caroline handed me my box, refusing to go up to my rooms. In vain did I promise, aye, swear to be good; I was powerless to overcome the flowermaker’s obstinacy; all that I could obtain was an appointment on the boulevard for the following evening.
She left me, and I entered the house alone. I could not help thinking of the difference between Mademoiselle Caroline’s conduct and Nicette’s. The little flower girl, who had known me but a few minutes, herself proposed to come to my apartment at midnight; while the grisette, having an excuse for going there, was afraid to venture in broad daylight. What was I to conclude? That one realized the danger more fully than the other? No. Nicette realized it; but she simply did not think of it; she trusted me. That Caroline was more virtuous than Nicette was impossible; indeed, I feared the contrary, and that there might be the same difference in their respective morals as in the flowers they dealt in.
I must, in any event, wait until the time appointed for our meeting. I determined to go that evening to Madame Vauvert’s; not to hear Raymond sing the Joconde aria, but because there was generally a collection of original creatures there that amused me, to say nothing of the master and mistress of the house, who are well worth a chapter to themselves.
XIII
AN AMATEUR CONCERT
In Paris there are parties for all tastes, all social ranks, all professions, all shades of opinion; in a word, for all classes.
A young man with tact and breeding may go everywhere; nothing is so easy as to obtain admission to the enormous parties, the gorgeous fêtes and balls, which are so popular that people go thither in crowds and do not see one another. The master and mistress of the house do not know the names of half the men who crowd their salons. In the best society it is customary for an invited guest to introduce whomsoever he may choose, without asking permission. The newcomer salutes the host and his wife; they exchange the conventional phrases, smiling at each other most amicably; that is all that is necessary; and one may then proceed to play cards, dance, and regale one’s self, without paying any further attention to the master of the house.