m 
 
 
 ilifcLJHTjS* 1 ^ 
 
 1. I E> R.ARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U NIVERSITY 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 645Z.74 
 OpoE 
 
 1887
 
 
 i. HSP A~Ur XvwiWvi ^>^S^ 

 
 - 
 
 -
 
 A MUMMER'S WIFE, 
 
 A REALISTIC NOVEL. 
 
 By the Author of "A MODERN LOVER." 
 
 %* This book has been placed in the Index Kxpurgatorius of the 
 Select Circulating Libraries of Messra. Mudie and W. H. Smith and 
 Son. 
 
 PRESS NOTICES. 
 
 THE ATHEN.EUM. 
 
 "A Mummer's Wife" is a striking book, clever, unpleasant, realistic. . . . The 
 woman's character is a very powerful study, and the strolling player, if less original, 
 is not less completely presented. In developing the commonplace lower middle- 
 class woman, with whom religion is a strong prejudice and no more, and love a mere 
 passion, into a heroine of comic opera, and ultimately into a drunkard a woman 
 without intellect, education, principle, or any strong emotion he has drawn a bit of 
 human nature to the life. . . . No one who wishes to examine the subject of realism 
 in fiction with regard to English novels can afford to neglect " A Mummer's Wife." 
 
 THE GRAPHIC. 
 
 " A Mummer's Wife " holds at present a unique position among English novels. It 
 is the first thoroughgoing attempt, at any rate of importance, to carry out the principles 
 of realism in fiction to their final, and possibly their only logical, result. Regarding 
 Mr. George Moore as intentionally representing a school to which we are opposed, 
 root and branch, we must, nevertheless, bear witness, however unwillingly, to the 
 remarkable fidelity and ability with which his work is done. "A Mummer's Wife" 
 is anything but a piece of ordinary novel manufacture. It comprises the results of 
 close and elaborate observation, of artistic labour, and of a conscientious effort on 
 the author's part to make the very best and utmost of his materials. For theso 
 reasons alone failure was well-nigh impossible. "A Mummer's Wife" is a conspicuous 
 success of its kind. 
 
 THE PALL MALL GAZETTE. 
 
 " A Mummer's Wife " is a patient, laborious study of the decline of a woman, who 
 quits middle-class respectability to plunge into theatrical bohemianism, and despite 
 the indolent kindness of her seducer, afterwards her husband sinks into dipsomania 
 and moral and physical ruin. ... It Is interesting and even absorbing. Mr. Moore 
 
 a
 
 observes closely and accurately, describes vividly and unflinchingly. His picture of 
 the life of a travelling opera-bouffe company may be commended to the church and 
 stage sentimentalists, who imagine the lower walks of the drama are, or can possibly 
 be, schools of all the virtues. . . . The novel deserves recognition as a serious attempt 
 at something better than the ordinary fictional frivolities of the day. 
 
 THE ACADEMY. 
 
 As a realist Mr. Moore does not spare us. The surroundings of the wretched Kate 
 Lennox are from first to last of the most sordid character. The black moral fog that 
 descends upon her at the beginning of the story never lifts, but becomes even darker 
 and fouler. Mr. Moore shows unquestionable power in telling her story, and the 
 sketch of her second husband big, frankly sensual, yet good-natured is probably as 
 good as anything of the kind could be. 
 
 THE SPECTATOR. 
 
 " A Mummer's Wife," In virtue of its vividness of presentation and real literary 
 skill, may be regarded as in some degree a representative example of the work of a 
 literary school that has of late years attracted to itself a good deal of the notoriety 
 which is a very useful substitute for fame. . . . Vice in its pages is loathsome in its 
 bideousness. Mr. Moore has not gone out of his way to invest with adventitious 
 attractiveness the sin with which he deals. Roses and raptures are not without a 
 place in his record, but there are plenty of thorns and torments ; and assuredly if art, 
 literary or pictorial, fulfils its true mission in photographic presentation of the details 
 of sensuality and sottishness, it is well that such presentation should have the photo- 
 graphic veracity which allows no item of foulness or ugliness to escape. 
 
 SOCIETY. 
 
 " A Mummer's Wife " contains passages of striking force and cynical humour, and 
 at least one scene intensely pathetic and weirdly sad. It is a description of the death 
 of an infant which wears out its little life in convulsions while its mother is in a 
 drunken sleep by its side. It is not too much to say that if all the book were as power- 
 ful as this, Mr. Moore might fairly claim the title of the English Zola. 
 
 WHITEHALL REVIEW. 
 
 We gently hinted to Mr. Moore that his " Modern Lover" was an unpleasant young 
 man, but he was a model of chastity compared to his " Mummer's Wife." Mr. Moore 
 may have written his book with the best of purposes, and with the wish to make his 
 readers detest sin, and shudder at its consequences ; but such books as his ought not to 
 be cast wholesale into circulating libraries with the chance of falling into the hands of 
 those "young unmarried ladies" at whom Mr. Henry James gives a gentle, passing 
 sneer ; or those older married ladies, who devour novels quite as greedily as their 
 younger sisters, and who are supposed to know both halves of life. 
 
 THE WEEKLY ECHO. 
 
 Mr. Moore's novel is written with something of Zola's ability. It is in every way 
 remarkable among recent books o| fiction, for plot, for close observation, for intensity 
 of feeling, and power of vivid description. Most of the characters are drawn with such 
 maturity of power that it is startling to here and there come across traces of a raw 
 hand. Mr. Moore is one of the devotees of the realistic theory. 
 
 NEWCASTLE CHRONICLE. 
 
 The tale is well told, with deep pathos blending with humour. Purists may possibly 
 object to its morality or lack of morality but no one can say that it is not a truthful 
 picture of the seamy side of life.
 
 PIPING HOT! 
 
 A REALISTIC NOVEL.
 
 ZOLA'S POWERFUL BEALISTIC NOVELS. 
 
 A LOVE EPISODE. 
 
 FROM THE 52ND FRENCH EDITION. 
 
 Illustrated with Eight Page Engravingt. 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF PLASSANS. 
 
 FROM THE 23RD FRENCH EDITION. 
 
 Illustrated with Eight Page Engravings. 
 
 HIS EXCELLENCE EUGENE ROUGON. 
 
 FROM THE 22ND FRENCH EDITION. 
 
 Illustrated with Eight Page Engravingt. 
 
 HOW JOLLY LIFE IS ! 
 
 FROM THE 44TH FRENCH EDITION. 
 
 Illustrated with Eight Page Engravings. 
 
 THE FORTUNE OF THE ROUGONS. 
 
 FROM THE 24TH FRENCH EDITION. 
 
 Illustrated with Eight Page Engravings. 
 
 ABBE MOURET'S TRANSGRESSION. 
 
 FROM THE 34TH FRENCH EDITION. 
 
 Illustrated with Eight Page Engravings. 
 
 HIS MASTERPIECE? (L'ozuvRE.) 
 
 With a Portrait of the Author, etched by Bocourt. 
 
 THE LADIES' PARADISE. Sequel to " PIPING-HOT!" 
 
 FROM THE 50TH FRENCH EDITION. 
 
 Illustrated with Eight Tinted Page Engravings. 
 
 THERESE RAQUIN. 
 
 Illustrated with Sixteen Page Engravings, by CasMU. 
 
 THE RUSH FOR THE SPOIL. (LA CUREE.) 
 
 FROM THE 35TH FRENCH EDITION. 
 
 Illustrated with Twelve Page Engravings. 
 
 PIPING HOT ! (PoT-BouiLLE.) 
 
 FROM THE 63RD FRENCH EDITION. 
 
 Illustrated with Sixteen Page Engravings, by French Artists. 
 
 GERMINAL; OR, MASTER AND MAN. 
 
 FROM THE 47TH FRENCH EDITION. 
 
 Illustrated with Sixteen Page Engravings, from designs by J. Ferat. 
 
 N ANA. 
 
 FROM THE 127TH FRENCH EDITION. 
 
 Illustrated with Twenty-Four Tinted Page Engravings, by French Artists. 
 
 THE "ASSOMMOIR." (The Prelude to "NANA,") 
 
 FROM THE 97TH FRENCH EDITION. 
 
 Illustrated with Sixteen Tinted Page Engravings, by French Artists.
 
 ^^ \ *-84'Vi^V 
 
 ANGELE PINCHES LISA IN A FRIENDLY WAY. 
 
 p. 24.
 
 PIPING HOT! 
 
 (POT-BOUILLE.) 
 
 JUBILATION OF THE JOSSERAXUS AT BEllTHE's ENGAGEMENT. p. 102. 
 
 By 
 
 ZOLA.
 
 PIPING HOT! 
 
 (POT-BOUILLE.) 
 
 A REALISTIC NOVEL. 
 
 EMILE ZOLA. 
 
 TBANSLATKD FBOM THE 63ED FBBNOH EDITION. 
 
 toith .Sixteen -page 
 
 FROM DESIGNS BY GEORGES BELLENGER. 
 NEW EDITION. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 VlZETELLY &> CO., 42 CATHERINE STREET, STRAND. 
 
 1887.
 
 H6~Z Pf 
 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 '<, ONE day, in the middle of a long literary conversation, 
 Theodore Duret said to me : "I have known in my life 
 two men of supreme intelligence. I knew of both before 
 the world knew of either. Never did I doubt, nor was it 
 possible to doubt, but that they would one day or other 
 gain the highest distinctions those men were Le'on 
 . Gambetta and ^rnile Zola." 
 
 Of Zola I am able to speak, and I can thoroughly 
 realise how interesting it must have been to have watched 
 him, at that time, when he was poor and unknown, ob- 
 taining acceptance of his articles with difficulty, and sur- 
 rounded by the feeble and trivial in spirit, who, out of 
 inborn ignorance and acquired idiocy, look with ridicule 
 js on those who believe that there is still a new word to say, 
 4^ still a new cry to ciy. 
 
 I did not know mile Zola in those days, but he must 
 have been then as he is now, and I should find it difficult 
 to understand how any man of average discrimination 
 could speak with him for half- an-h our without recognising 
 he was one of those mighty monumental intelligences, 
 statues of a century, that remain and are gazed upon 
 u gh the long pages of the world's history. This, at 
 ^0 least, is the impression ifimile Zola has always produced 
 upon me. I have seen him in company, and company of 
 ^no mean order, and when pitted against his compeers, the 
 -contrast has only made him appear grander, greater, 
 ^nobler. The witty, the clever Alphonse Daudet, ever as 
 , ready for a supper party as a literary discussion, with all 
 his splendid gifts, can do no more when Zola speaks than 
 shelter himself behind an epigram ; Edmond De Goncourt, 
 aristocratic, dignified, seated amid his Japanese water- 
 -colours, bronzes, and Louis XV. furniture, bitterly admits,
 
 vi PREFACE. 
 
 if not that there is a greater naturalistic god than he, at 
 least that there is a colossus whose strength he is unable 
 to oppose. 
 
 This is the position Emile Zola takes amid his contem- 
 poraries. By some strange power of assimilation, he 
 appropriates and makes his own of all things ; ideas that 
 before were scattered, dislocated, are suddenly united, 
 fitted into their places. In speaking, as in writing, he 
 always appears greater than his subject, and, Titan-like, 
 grasps it as a whole ; in speaking, as in writing, the 
 strength and beauty of his style is an unfailing use of the 
 right word ; each phrase is a solid piece of masonry, and 
 as he talks an edifice of thought rises architecturally per- 
 fect and complete in design. 
 
 And it is of this side of firnile Zola's genius that I wish 
 particularly to speak a side that has never been taken 
 sufficiently into consideration, but which, nevertheless, is 
 its ever-guiding and determinating quality, fimile Zola 
 is to me a great epic poet, and he may be, I think, not 
 inappropriately termed the Homer of modern life. For 
 he, more than any other writer, it seems, possesses the 
 power of seeing a subject as a \vhole, can divest it at 
 will of all side issues, can seize with a firm, logical com- 
 prehension on the main lines of its construction, and that 
 without losing sight of the remotest causes or the furthest 
 consequences of its existence. It is here that his strength 
 lies, and hh is the strength which has conquered the 
 world. Of his realism a great deal, of course, has been 
 said, but only because it is the most obvious, not the most 
 dominant quality of his work. The mistletoe invariably 
 hides the oak from the eyes of the vulgar. 
 
 That mile Zola has done well to characterise his 
 creations with the vivid sentiment of modern life rather 
 than the pale dream which reveals to us the past, that he 
 was able to bend, to model, to make serviceable to his 
 purpose the ephemeral habits and customs of our day, 
 few will now deny. But this was only the off-shoot of 
 his genius. That the colour of the nineteenth century 
 with which he clothes the bodies of his heroes and 
 heroines is no* always exact, that none other has
 
 PREFACE. vii 
 
 attempted to spin these garments before, I do not dispute. 
 They will grow threadbare and fall to dust, even as the hide 
 of the megatharium, of which only the colossal bones now 
 remain to us wherewith to construct the fabric of the prim- 
 eval world. And, in like manner, when the dream of the 
 socialist is realized, when the burden of pleasure and 
 work is pi'oportioned out equally to all, and men live on 
 a more strictly regulated plan than do either the ant or 
 the bee, I believe that the gigantic skeleton of the 
 Rougon-Macquart family will stiJl continue to resist the 
 ravages of time, and that western scientists will refer 
 to it when disputing about the idiosyncrasies of a past 
 civilization. 
 
 In the preceeding paragraph, I have said neither more nor 
 less than my meaning, for I am convinced that the living 
 history of no age has been as well written as the last half 
 of the nineteenth century is in the Rougon-Macquart 
 series. I pass over the question whether, in describing 
 ReneVs dress, a mistake was made in the price of lace, 
 also whether the author was wrong in permitting himself 
 the anachronism of describing a fete in the opera-house a 
 couple of years before the building was completed. 
 Errors of this kind do not appear to me to be worth con- 
 sidering. What I maintain is, that what ]mile Zola has 
 done, and what he alone has done and I do not make an 
 exception even in the case of the mighty Balzac is to 
 have conceived and constructed the frame-work of a com- 
 plex civilization like ours, in all its worse ramifications. 
 Never, it seems to me, was the existence of the epic 
 faculty more amply demonstrated than by the genealogical 
 tree of this now celebrated family. 
 
 The grandeur, the amplitude of this scheme will be u een 
 at once. Adelaide Fouque, a mad woman confined in a 
 lunatic asylum at Plassans, is the first ancestor ; she is the 
 transmitter of the original neurosis, which, regulated by 
 his or her physical constitution, assumes various forms in 
 each individual member of the family, and is developed 
 according to the surroundings in which he or she lives. 
 By Rougon this woman had two children ; by Macquart, 
 with whom she cohabited on the death of her husband,
 
 viii PREFACE. 
 
 she had three. Ursule Macquart married a man named 
 Mouret,. and their children are therefore cousins of the 
 Rougon-Macquarts. This family has some forty or fifty 
 members, who are distributed through the different grades 
 of our social system. Some have attained the highest 
 positions, as, Son Excellence Eugene Rougon, others have 
 sunk to the lowest depths, as Gervaise in " L'Assom- 
 moir," but all are tainted with the hereditary malady. 
 By it Nana is invincibly driven to prostitution ; by it 
 Etienne Lantier, in "Germinal," will be driven to crime; by 
 it his brother, Claude, will be made a great painter. Pro- 
 tean-like is this disease. Sometimes it skips over a genera- 
 tion, sometimes lies almost latent, and the balance of the 
 intelligence is but slightly disturbed, as in the instance of 
 Octave in " Pot-Bouille," and Lazare in " La Joie de 
 Vivre." But the mind of the latter is more distorted 
 than is Octave's. Lazare lives in a perpetual fear of 
 death, and is prevented from realizing any of his 
 magnificent projects by his vacillating temperament ; 
 in him we have an example how a splendid intel- 
 ligence may be drained away like water through an 
 imperceptible crack in the vase, and how what might 
 have been the fruit of a life withers like the flowers from 
 which the nourishing liquid has been withdrawn. 
 
 And so in the Rougon-Hacquart series we have instances 
 of all kinds of psychical development and decay; and 
 with an overt and an intuitive reading of character truly 
 -wonderful, Emile Zola makes us feel that as the north and 
 south poles and torrid zones are hemmed about with a 
 girdle of air, so an ever varying but ever recognisable 
 kinship unites, sometimes, indeed, by an almost imper- 
 ceptible thread, the ends the most opposed of this remark- 
 able race, and is diffused through the different variation 
 each individual member successively presents. Can we 
 not trace a mysterious physical resemblance between 
 Octave Mouret in " Le Bonheur des Dames " and Maxime 
 in " La Cure's ? " Is not the moral something by which 
 Claude Lantier in " Le Ventre de Paris " escapes the fate 
 of Lazare made apparent ? Then, again, does not the in- 
 herited neurosis that makes of Octave a millionaire, of
 
 PREFACE. ix 
 
 Lazare a wretched hypochondriac, of Claude Lantier a 
 genius, of Maxime a symbol of ephemeral vice, reappear 
 in a new and more deadly form in Jeanne, the hysterical 
 child, in that most beautiful of beautiful books, " Une 
 Paged'Amour?" 
 
 As beasts at a fair are urged on by the goads of their 
 drivers, so certain fate pushes this wretched family 
 forward into irrevocable death that is awaiting it. At 
 each generation they grow more nervous, more worn out, 
 more ready to succumb beneath the ravages of the horrible 
 disease that in a hundred different ways is sweeping them 
 into the night of the grave. 
 
 Even from this imperfect outline, what majesty, what 
 grandeur there is in this dark design ! Does not the great 
 idea of fate receive a new and more terrible signification ? 
 Is not the horror and gloom of the tragedy increased by 
 the fact that the thought was born in the study of the 
 scientist, and not in the cloud-palace of the dreamer ? 
 What poet ever conceived an idea more vast ! 4nd if fur- 
 ther proof of the epic faculty with which I have credited 
 fimile Zola be wanting, I have only to refer to Pascal 
 Rougon. Noah survived the deluge. Pascal Rougon, 
 by some miracle, escapes the inherited stain he, and 
 he alone, is completely free from it. He is a doctor, an 
 advanced scientist, and he, in the twentieth volume, 
 will analyse the terrible neurosis that has devastated his 
 family. 
 
 In the upbuilding of this enormous edifice, mile Zola 
 shows the same constructive talent as he did in its con- 
 ception. The energy he displays is marvellous. Every 
 year a wing, courtyard, cupola, or tower is added, and 
 each is as varied as the most imaginative could 
 desire. Without looking further back than "L'Assom- 
 moir," let us consider what has been done. In this 
 work, we have a study of the life of the working 
 people in Paris, written, for the sake of preserving the 
 " milieu," for the most part in their own language. It 
 shows how the workers of our great social machine live, 
 and must live, in ignorance and misery; it shows, as 
 never was shown before, what the accident of birth
 
 x PREFACE. 
 
 means ; it shows in a new way, and, to my mind, in as 
 grand a way as did the laments of the chorus in the 
 Greek play, the irrevocability of fate. " L'Assommoir " 
 was followed by " Une Page d'Amour," a beautiful 
 Parisian idyl. Here we see the " bourgeois " at their best. 
 We have seven descriptions of Paris seen from a distance 
 of which Turner might be proud ; we have a picture of a 
 children's costume ball which Meissonier might fall down 
 and worship ; we have the portrait of a beautiful and 
 virtuous woman with -her love story told, as it were, over 
 the dying head of Jeanne (her little girl), the child whose 
 nervous sensibilities are so delicate that she trembles with 
 jealousy when she suspects that behind her back her 
 mother is looking at the doctor. After " Une Page 
 d'Amour " comes " Nana," and with her we are transported 
 to a world of pleasure-seekers ; vicious men and women 
 who have no thought but the killing of time and the 
 gratification of their lusts. Nana is the Messaline of 
 modern days, and, obeying the epic tendency of his genius, 
 mile Zola has instituted a comparison between the death 
 of the "gilded fly," conceived in drunkenness and de- 
 bauchery, and the harlot city of the third Emperor, 
 which, rotten with vice, falls before the victorious arms 
 of the Germans. 
 
 " Nana " and " Une Page d'Amour " are psychological 
 and philological studies of two radically different types of 
 women; in both works, and likewise in "L'Assommoir," 
 there is much descriptive writing, and, doubtless, Emile 
 Zola had this fact present in his mind when he set himself 
 to write " Pot-Bouille," that terrible satire on the " bour- 
 geoisie." He must have said, as his plan formulated itself 
 in his mind, " this is a novel dealing with the home-life of 
 the middle-classes : if I wish to avoid repeating myself, 
 this book must contain a vast number of characters, and 
 the descriptions must be reduced to a bare sufficiency, no 
 more than will allow my readers to form an exact impres- 
 sion of the surroundings through which the action passes." 
 " Pot-Bouille," or " Piping Hot ! " as the present translation 
 is called, is, therefore, an inquiry into the private lives of 
 a number of individuals, who, while they follow differ-
 
 PREFACE. xl 
 
 ent occupations, belong to the same class and live under 
 the same roof. The house in the Rue de Choiseul is one of 
 those immense "maisons bourgeoises," in which, apparently, 
 an infinite number of people live. On the first floor, we 
 find Monsieur Duveyrier, an " avocat de la cour," with 
 his musical wife, Clotilde, and her father, Monsieur 
 Vabre, a retired notary and proprietor of the house, who 
 is absorbed in the preparation of an important statistical 
 work; on the fourth floor are Madame Josserand, her two 
 daughters, whom she is always trying to marry, her 
 crazy son Saturnin, and her husband who spends his 
 nights addressing advertising circulars at three francs a 
 thousand, in order to eke out an additional something to 
 help his family to ape an appearance of easy circum- 
 stances. On the third floor is an arcnitect, Monsieur 
 Campardon, with his ailing, yet blooming, wife Rose, and 
 her cousin, " 1'autre Madame Campardon." There is also 
 one of Monsieur Vabre's sons, and "a distinguished 
 gentleman who comes one night a week to work." 
 
 These are the principal "locataires ;" but, in various odd 
 corners, "des petits appartements qui donnent sur la cour," 
 we find all sorts and conditions of people. First on the 
 list is the government clerk Jules and his wife Marie. 
 She is a weak-minded little thing who commits adultery 
 without affection, without dssire, and the frequency of 
 her confinements excites the ire of her mother and father. 
 Then come two young men, Octave and Trublot. The 
 former plays a part similar to that of a tenor in an opera ; 
 he is the accepted lover of the ladies. The latter is 
 equally beloved by the maids. From the frequency of 
 his visits, he may almost be said to live in the house ; he 
 is constantly asked to dine by one or other of the in- 
 mates, and in the morning he is generally found hiding 
 behind the door of one of the servants' rooms, waiting 
 for an opportunity of descending the staircase unperceived 
 by the terrible " concierge," the moral guardian of the 
 house. 
 
 Other visitors who figure prominently in the story are 
 Madame Josserand's brother, Uncle Bachelard, a dissipated 
 widower, and his nephew Gueulin; the Abbd Mouret, ever
 
 xii PREFACE. 
 
 ready to throw the mantle of religion over the back- 
 slidings of his flock, and Madame He'douin, the frigid 
 directress of "The Ladies' Paradise," where Octave is 
 originally engaged. The remaining " locataires " are 
 Madame Juzeur, a lady who only reads poetry, and who 
 was deserted by her husband after a single week of 
 matrimonial, bliss ; a workwoman who has a garret under 
 the slates ; and last, but not least, an author who lives 
 on the second floor. He is rarely ever seen, he makes no 
 one's acquaintance, and thereby excites the enmity of 
 everyone. 
 
 All these, the author of course excepted, pass and re- 
 pass before the reader, and each is at once individual and 
 representative; even the maid-servants who only answer 
 "yes" and "no" to their masters and mistresses are 
 adroitly characterised. We see them in their kitchens 
 engaged in their daily occupations : while peeling 
 onions and gutting rabbits and fish they call to and 
 abuse each other from window to window. There 
 is Julie, the belle of the attics, of whose perfume and 
 pomatum Trublot makes liberal use when he honours 
 her with a visit ; there is fat Adele whose dirty habits 
 and slovenly ways make of her a butt whereat is levelled 
 the ridicule and scorn of her fellow -servants; there are the 
 lovers, Hippolyte and Cle'mence, whose carnal intercourse 
 affords to Madame Duveyrier much ground for uneasiness, 
 and in the end necessitates the intervention of the Abbd 
 Never were the manners and morals of servants so 
 thoroughly sifted before, never was the relationship which 
 their lives bear to those of their masters and mistresses 
 so cunningly contrasted. The courtyard of the house 
 echoes with their quarrelling voices, and it is there, in a 
 scene of which Swift might be proud, that is spoken the 
 last and terrible word of scorn which Emile Zola flings 
 against the " bourgeoisie." From her kitchen window a 
 fellow-servant of Julie's is congratulating her on being 
 about to leave, and wishing that she may find a better 
 place. To which Julie replies, " Toutes les baraques se 
 ressemblent. Au jour d'aujourd'hui, qui a fait 1'une a fait 
 1'autre. C'est cochon et compagnie."
 
 PREFACE xiii 
 
 I do not know to what other work to go to find so much 
 successful sketching of character. I had better, I think, 
 explain the meaning I attach to this phrase, " sketch- 
 ing of character," for it is too common an error 
 to associate the idea of superficiality with the word 
 "sketch." The true artist never allows anything to 
 leave his studio that he deems superficial, or even 
 unfinished. The word unfinished is not found in his 
 vocabulary; to him a sketch is as complete as a 
 finished picture. In the former he has painted broadly 
 and freely, wishing to render the vividness, the vitality 
 of a first impression; in the latter he is anxious to render 
 the subtlety of a more intellectual and consequently a less 
 sensual emotion. The portrait of Madame Josserand is a 
 case in point, it is certainly less minute than that of 
 Helene Mouret, but is not for that less finished. In both, 
 the artist has achieved, and perfectly, the task he set him- 
 self. " Piping Hot ! " cannot be better defined than as a 
 portrait album in which many of our French neighbours 
 may be readily recognized. 
 
 This merit will not fail to strike any intelligent reader; 
 but the marvellous way the almost insurmountable diffi- 
 culties of binding together the stories of the lives of the 
 different inhabitants of the house in the Rue de Choiseul 
 are overcome, none but a fellow-worker will be able to 
 appreciate at their full value. Up and down the famous 
 staircase we go, from one household to another, interested 
 equally in each, disgusted equally with all. And this 
 sentence leads us right up to the enemies' guns, brings us 
 face to face with the two batteries from which the critics 
 have directed their fire. The first is the truthfulness of 
 the picture, the second is the coarseness with which it is 
 painted. I will attempt to reply to both. 
 
 M. Albert Wolff in the " Figaro " declared that in a 
 " maison bourgeoise " so far were " locataires " from being 
 all on visiting terms, that it was of constant occurrence 
 that the people on one floor not only did not know by 
 sight but were ignorant of the names of those living 
 above and below them ; that the spectacle of a " maison 
 bourgeoise," with the lodgers running up and down stairs
 
 xiv PREFACE. 
 
 in and out of each other's apartments at all hours of the 
 night and day, was absolutely false ; had never existed in 
 Paris, and was an invention of the writer. Without a 
 word of parley I admit the truth of this indictment. I 
 will admit that no house could be found in Paris where 
 from basement to attic the inhabitants are on such terms 
 of intimacy as they are in the house in the Rue de 
 Choiseul ; but at the same time I deny that the extreme 
 isolation described by M. Wolff could be found or is even 
 possible in any house inhabited over a term of years by 
 the same people, fimile Zola has then done no more than 
 to exaggerate, to draw the strings that attach the different 
 parts a little tighter than they would be in nature. Art, 
 let there be no mistake on this point, be it romantic or 
 naturalistic, is a perpetual concession ; and the char- 
 acter of the artist is determined by the selection he makes 
 amid the mass of conflicting issues that, all clamouring 
 equally to be chosen, present themselves to his mind. 
 In the case of mile Zola, the epic faculty which has 
 been already mentioned as the dominant trait of his 
 genius naturally impelled him to make too perfect a 
 whole of the heterogeneous mass of material that he had 
 determined to construct from. The flaw is more obvious 
 than in his other works, but in " Piping Hot ! " he has 
 only done what he has done since he first put pen to 
 paper, what he will continue to do till he ceases to write. 
 We will admit that to make all the people living in the 
 house in the Rue de Choiseul on visiting terms was a trick 
 of composition et puis ? 
 
 This was the point from which the critics who pre- 
 tended to be guided by artistic considerations attacked 
 the book ; the others entrenched themselves behind the 
 good old earthworks of morality, and primed their rusty 
 popguns. Now there was a time, and a very good time 
 it must have been, when a book was judged on its literary 
 merits ; but of late years a new school of criticism has 
 come into fashion. Its manners are very summary indeed. 
 " Would you or would you not give that book to your 
 sister of sixteen to read ? " If you hesitate you are lost ; 
 for then the question is dismissed with a smile and you
 
 PREFACE. xv 
 
 are voted out of court. It would be vain to suggest that 
 there are other people in the world besides your sister of 
 sixteen summers. 
 
 I do not intend putting forward any well known para- 
 dox, that art is morals, and morals are art. That there are 
 great and eternal moral laws which must be acted up to 
 in art as in life I am more than ready to admit ; but these 
 are very different from the wretched conventionalities 
 which have been arbitrarily imposed upon us in England. 
 To begin with, it must be clear to the meanest intelligence 
 that it would never do to judge the dead by the same 
 standard as the living. If that were done, all the dramatists 
 of the sixteenth century would have to go ; those of the 
 Restoration would follow. To burn Swift somebody lower 
 in the social scale than Mr. Binns would have to be found, 
 although he might do to commit Sterne to the flames. 
 Byron, Shelley, yes, even Landor would have to go the 
 same way. What would happen then, it is hard to- say ; 
 but it is not unfair to hint that if the burning were 
 argued to its logical conclusion, some of the extra good 
 people would find it difficult to show reason, if the inten- 
 tion of the author were not taken into account, why their 
 most favourite reading should be saved from the general 
 destruction. 
 
 Many writers have lately been trying to put their 
 readers in the possession of infallible recipes for the 
 production of good fiction; they would, to my mind, 
 have employed their time and talents to far more 
 purpose had they come boldly to the point and stated 
 that the overflow of bad fiction with which we are 
 inundated is owing to the influence of the circulating 
 library, which, on one side, sustains a quantity of worth- 
 less writers who on their own merits would not sell a 
 dozen copies of their books ; and, on the other, deprives 
 those who have something to say and are eager to say it 
 of the liberty of doing so. It may be a sad fact, but it is 
 nevertheless a fact, that literature and young girls are irre- 
 concilable elements, and the sooner we leave off trying to 
 reconcile them the better. At this vain endeavour the 
 circulating library has been at work for the last
 
 xvi PREFACE. 
 
 twenty years, and what has been the result ? A litera- 
 ture of bandboxes. Were Pope, Addison, Johnson, 
 Fielding, Smollet, suddenly raised from their graves 
 and started on reviewing " three vols.," think you that 
 they would not all cry together, " This is a literature 
 of bandboxes ? " 
 
 We judge a pudding by the eating, and I judge Messrs. 
 Mudie and Smith by what they have produced ; for they, 
 not the ladies and gentlemen who place their names on the 
 title pages, are the authors of our fiction. And what a 
 terrible brood to admit the parentage of ! Let those who 
 doubt put aside pre-conceived opinions, and forgetting the 
 bolstered up reputation of the authors, read the volumes by 
 the light of a little common sense. Cast a glance at those 
 that lie in Miss Rboda Broughton's lap. What a wheezing, 
 drivelling lot of bairns they are ! They have not a virtue 
 amongst them, and their pinafore pages are sticky with 
 childish sensualities. 
 
 And here we touch the keynote of the whole system. For. 
 mark you, you can say what you like provided you speak 
 according to rule. Everything is agreed according to 
 precedent. I could give a hundred instances, but one 
 will suffice. On the publication of " Adam Bede " a howl 
 was raised, but the book was alive ; it finished by being 
 accepted, and the libraries were obliged to give way. 
 The employment of seduction in the fabulation of a story 
 was therefore established. This would have been a great 
 point gained, if Mr. Mudie had not succeeded in forcing 
 on all succeeding writers George Eliot's manner of con- 
 ducting her story. In " Adam Bede " we have Hetty 
 described as an extremely fascinating dairymaid and 
 Arthur as a noble-minded young man. After a good deal 
 of flirtation they are shown to us walking through a wood 
 together, and three months after we hear that Hetty is 
 enceinte. Now, ever since the success of this book was 
 assured, we have had numberless novels dealing with 
 seductions, but invariably an interval of three months is 
 allowed wherein the reader's fancy may disport until the 
 truth be told. 
 
 Not being a select librarian I will not undertake to
 
 PKEFACE. xvil 
 
 say that the cause of morality is advanced by leaving 
 the occurrence of the offence unmarked by a no more 
 precise date than that of three months, but being a writer 
 who loves and believes in his art, I fearlessly declare 
 that such quibblery is not worthy of the consideration 
 of serious men ; and it was to break through this puerile 
 conventionality that I was daring enough in my " Mum- 
 mer's Wife " to write that Dick dragged Kate into the 
 room and that the door was slammed behind her. And 
 it is on this passage that the select circulating libraries 
 base a refusal to take the book. And it is such illiterate 
 censorship that has thrown English fiction into the abyss of 
 nonsense in which it lies ; it is for this reason and no other 
 that the writers. of the present day have ceased even to try 
 to produce good work, and have resigned themselves to the 
 task of turning out their humdrum stories of sentimental 
 misunderstanding. Yet, strange to say, in every other 
 department of art, an unceasing intellectual activity pre- 
 vails. Our poetry, our histories, our biographies, our 
 newspapers are strong and vigorous, pregnant with 
 thought, trenchant in style; it is not until we turn to the 
 novel that we find a wearisome absence of everything but 
 driveL 
 
 Though much that I would like to have said is still un- 
 said, the exigencies of space compel me to bring this 
 notice to a close. However, this one thing I hope I have 
 made clear : that it is my firm opinion that if fiction is to 
 exist at all, the right to speak as he pleases on politics, 
 morals, and religion must be granted to the writer, and 
 that he on his side must take cognizance of other readers 
 than sentimental young girls, who require to be provided 
 with harmless occupation until something fresh turns up 
 in the matrimonial market. Therefore the great literary 
 battle of' our day is not to be fought for either realism or 
 romanticism, but for freedom of speech ; and until that 
 battle be gained I, for one, will continue fearlessly to hold 
 out a hand of welcome to all comers who dare to attack 
 the sovereignty of the circulating library. 
 
 The first of these is " Piping Hot ! " and, I think, the 
 pungent odour of life it exhales, as well as its scorching
 
 xviii PREFACE. 
 
 satire on the middle- classes, will be relished by all who 
 prefer the fortifying brutalities of truth to the soft plati- 
 tudes of lies. As a satire " Piping Hot ! " must be read ; 
 and as a satire it will rank with Juvenal, Voltaire, Pope, 
 and Swift. 
 
 GEORGE MOORE.
 
 PIPING HOT! 
 
 (POT-BOUILLE.) 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IN the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin, a block of vehicles arrested 
 the cab which was bringing Octave Mouret and his three trunks 
 from the Lyons railway station. The young man lowered one 
 of the windows, in spite of the already intense cold of that dull 
 November afternoon. He was surprised at the abrupt approach 
 of twilight in this neighbourhood of narrow streets, all swarm- 
 ing with a busy crowd. The oaths of the drivers as they 
 lashed their snorting horses, the endless jostlings on the foot- 
 pavements, the serried line of shops swarming with attendants 
 and customers, bewildered him ; for, though he had dreamed 
 of a cleaner Paris than the one he beheld, he had never hoped 
 to find it so eager for trade, and he felt that it was publicly open 
 to the appetites of energetic young fellows. 
 The driver leant towards him. 
 " It's the Passage Choiseul you want, isn't it 1 " 
 11 No, the Rue de Choiseul. A new house, I think." 
 And the cab only had to turn the corner. The house was the 
 second one in the street : a big house four storeys high, the 
 stonework of whjch was scarcely discoloured, in the midst of 
 the dirty stucco of the adjoining old frontages. Octave, who 
 had alighted on to the pavement, measured it and studied it 
 with a mechanical glance, from the silk warehouse on the 
 ground floor to the projecting windows on the fourth floor 
 opening on to a narrow terrace. On the first floor, carved female 
 heads supported a highly elaborate cast-iron balcony. The 
 windows were surrounded with complicated frames, roughly 
 chiselled in the soft stcne ; and, lower down, above the tall
 
 10 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 doorway, two cupids were unrolling a scroll bearing the number, 
 which at night-time was lighted up by a jet of gas from the 
 inside. 
 
 A stout fair gentleman, who was coming out of the vestibule, 
 stopped short on catching sight of Octave. 
 
 " What ! you here ! " exclaimed he. " Why, I was not ex- 
 pecting you till to-morrow ! " 
 
 " The truth is," replied the young man, "I left Flassans a 
 day earlier than I originally intended. Isn't the room ready ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes. I took it a fortnight ago, and I furnished it at 
 once in the way you desired. Wait a bit, I will take you to it." 
 
 He re-entered the house, though Octave begged he would not 
 give himself the trouble. The driver had got the three trunks 
 off the cab. Inside the doorkeeper's room, a dignified-looking 
 man with a long face, clean-shaven like a diplomatist, was 
 standing up gravely reading the " Moniteur." He deigned, 
 however, to interest himself about these trunks which were 
 being deposited in his doorway ; and, taking a few steps for- 
 ward, he asked his tenant, the architect of the third floor as he 
 called him : 
 
 " Is this the person, Monsieur Campardon 1 " 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur Gourd, this is Monsieur Octave Mouret, for 
 whom I have taken the room on the fourth floor. He will sleep 
 there and take his meals with us. Monsieur Mouret is a friend 
 of my wife's relations, and I beg you will show him every 
 attention." 
 
 Octave was examining the entrance with its panels of imitation 
 marble and its vaulted ceiling decorated with rosettes. 
 The courtyard at the end was paved and cemented, and had a 
 grand air of cold cleanliness ; the only occupant was a coach- 
 man engaged in polishing a bit with a chamois leather at the 
 entrance to the stables. There were no signs of the sun ever 
 shining there. 
 
 Meanwhile, Monsieur Gourd was inspecting the trunks. He 
 pushed them with his foot, and, their weight filling him with 
 respect, he talked of fetching a porter to carry them up the 
 servants' staircase. 
 
 " Madame Gourd, I'm going out," cried he, just putting his 
 head inside his room. 
 
 tt was like a drawing-room, with bright looking-glasses, a red 
 flowered Wilton carpet and violet ebony furniture ; and, through 
 a partly opened door, one caught a glimpse of the bed-chamber 
 with a bedstead hung with garnet rep. Madame Gourd, a very
 
 PIPING HOT ! 11 
 
 fat woman with yellow ribbons in her hair, was stretched out 
 in an efisy-chair with her hands clasped, and doing nothing. 
 
 " Well ! let's go up,'' said the architect. 
 
 And seeing how impressed the young man seemed to be by 
 Monsieur Gourd's black velvet cap and sky blue slippers, he 
 added, as he pushed open the mahogany door of the vestibule : 
 
 "You know he was formerly the Duke de Vaugelade's valet." 
 
 "Ah ! " simply ejaculated Octave. 
 
 " It's as I tell you, and he married the widow of a little 
 bailiff of Mort-la-Ville. They even own a house there. But 
 they are waiting until they have three thousand francs a year 
 before going there to live. Oh ! they are most respectable 
 doorkeepers ! " 
 
 The decorations of the vestibule and the staircase were 
 gaudily luxurious. At the foot of the stairs was the figure of a 
 woman, a kind of gilded Neapolitan, supporting on her head an 
 amphora from which issued three gas-jets protected by ground 
 glass globes. The panels of imitation white marble with pink 
 borders succeeded each other at regular intervals up the wall of the 
 staircase, Avhilst the cast-iron balustrade with its mahogany hand- 
 rail was in imitation of old silver with clusters of golden leaves. 
 A red carpet, secured with brass rods, covered the stairs. But 
 what especially struck Octave on entering was a green-house 
 temperature, a warm breath which seemed to be puffed from 
 some mouth into his face. 
 
 " Hallo ! " said he, " the staircase is warmed." 
 
 " Of course," replied Campardon. " All landlords who have 
 the least self-respect go to that expense now. The house is a 
 very fine one, very fine." 
 
 He looked about him as though he were sounding the walls 
 with his architect's eyes. 
 
 " My dear fellow, you will see, it is a most comfortable place, 
 and inhabited solely by highly respectable people ! " 
 
 Then, slowly ascending, he mentioned thenarnesof the different 
 tenants. On each floor were two separate suites of apartments, 
 one looking on to the street, the other on to the courtyard, and 
 the polished mahogany doors of which faced each other. He 
 began by saying a few words respecting Monsieur Auguste 
 Vabre ; he was the landlord's eldest son ; since the spring he 
 had rented the silk warehouse on the ground floor, and he also 
 occupied the whole of the " entresol " above. Then, on the 
 first floor the landlord's other son, Monsieur Theophile Vabre 
 and his wife, resided in the apartment overlooking the court-
 
 12 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 yard ; and in the one overlooking the street lived the landlord 
 himself, formerly a notary at Versailles, but who was now 
 lodging with his son-in-law, Monsieur Duveyrier, a judge at the 
 Court of Appeal. 
 
 " A fellow who is not yet forty-five," said Campardon, stopping 
 short. " That's something remarkable, is it not ? " 
 
 He ascended two steps, and then suddenly turning round, he 
 added : 
 
 " Water and gas on every floor." 
 
 Beneath the tall window on each landing, the panes of which, 
 bordered with fretwork, lit up the staircase with a white light, 
 was placed a narrow velvet covered bench. The architect ob- 
 served that elderly persons could sit down and rest. Then, as 
 he passed the second floor without naming the tenants : 
 
 "And there?" asked Octave, pointing to the door of the 
 principal suite. 
 
 " Oh ! there," said he, " persons whom one never sees, whom 
 no one knows. The house could well do without them. 
 Blemishes, you know, are to be found everywhere." 
 
 He gave a little snort of contempt. 
 
 " The gentleman writes books, I believe." 
 
 But on the third floor his smile of satisfaction reappeared. 
 The apartments looking on to the courtyard were divided into 
 two suites ; they were occupied by Madame Juzeur, a little 
 woman who was most unhappy, and a very distinguished gentle- 
 man who had taken a room to which he came once a week on 
 business matters. Whilst giving these particulars, Campardon 
 opened the door on the other side of the lauding. 
 
 " And this is where I live," resumed he. " Wait a moment, 
 I must get your key. We will first go up to your room ; you 
 can see my wife afterwards." 
 
 During the two minutes he was left alone, Octave felt pene- 
 trated by the grave silence of the staircase. He leant over the 
 balustrade, in the warm air which ascended from the vestibule ; 
 he raised his head, listening if any noise came from above. It 
 was the death-like peacefulness of a middle-class drawing-room, 
 carefully shut in and not admitting a breath from outside. 
 Behind the beautiful shining mahogany doors there seemed to 
 be unfathomable depths of respectability. 
 
 " You will have some excellent neighbours," said Campardon, 
 reappearing with the key ; " on the street side there are the 
 Josserands, quite a family, the father who is cashier at the 
 Saint-Joseph glass works, and also two marriageable daughters ;
 
 PIPING HOT ! 13 
 
 and next to you the Pichons, the husband is a clerk ; they are 
 not rolling in wealth, but they are educated people. Every- 
 thing has to be let, has it not? even in a house like this." 
 
 From the third landing, the red carpet ceased and was re- 
 placed by a simple grey Holland. Octave's vanity was slightly 
 ruffled. The staircase had, little by little, filled him with 
 respect ; he was deeply moved at inhabiting such a fine house 
 as the architect termed it. As, following the latter, he turned 
 into the passage leading to his room, he caught sight through 
 a partly open door of a young woman standing up before a 
 cradle. She raised her head at the noise. She was fair, with 
 clear and vacant eyes j and all he carried away was this very 
 distinct look, for the young woman, suddenly blushing, pushed 
 the door to in the shame-faced way of a person taken by 
 surprise. 
 
 Campardon turned round to repeat : 
 
 " Water and gas on every floor, my dear fellow." 
 
 Then he pointed out a door which opened on to the servants' 
 staircase. Their rooms were up above. And stopping at the 
 end of the passage, he added : 
 
 " Here we are at last." 
 
 The room, which was square, pretty large, and hung with a 
 grey wall-paper with blue flowers, was furnished very simply. 
 Close to the alcove was a little dressing-closet with just room 
 enough to wash one's hands. Octave went straight to the 
 window, which admitted a greenish light. Below was the court- 
 yard looking sad and clean, with its regular pavement, and the 
 shining brass tap of its cistern. And still not a human being, 
 nor even a noise ; nothing but the uniform windows, withoxit a 
 bird-cage, without a flower-pot, displaying the monotony of their 
 white curtaius. To hide the big bare wall of the house on the 
 left hand side, which shut in the square of the courtyard, the 
 windows had been repeated, imitation windows in paint, with 
 shutters eternally closed, behind which the walled-in life of the 
 neighbouring apartments appeared to continue. 
 
 "But I shall be very comfortable here !" cried Octave de- 
 lighted. 
 
 " I thought so," said Campardon. " Well ! I did everything 
 as though it had been for myself; and, moreover, I carried out 
 the instructions contained in your letters. So the furniture 
 pleases you ? It is all that is necessery for a young man. 
 Later on, you can make any changes you like." 
 
 And, as Octave shook his hand, thanking him, and apolog's-
 
 14 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 ing for having given him so much trouble, he resumed in a 
 serious tone of voice : 
 
 " Only, my boy, no rows here, and above all no women ! On 
 my word of honour, if you were to bring a woman here it would 
 revolutionize the whole house ! " 
 
 " Be easy ! " murmured the young man, feeling rather anxious. 
 
 "No, let me tell you, for it is I who would be compromised. 
 You have seen the house. All middle-class people, and of ex- 
 treme morality ! between ourselves, they affect it rather too 
 much. Never a word, never more noise than you have heard just 
 now. Ah, well ! Monsieur Gourd would at once fetch Monsieur 
 Vabre, and we should both be in a nice pickle ! My dear 
 fellow, I ask it of you for my own peace of mind : respect the 
 liouse." 
 
 Octave, overpowered by so much virtue and respectability, 
 swore to do so. Then, Campardon, casting a mistrustful glance 
 around, and lowering his voice as though some one might have 
 heard him, added with sparkling eyes : 
 
 " Outside it concerns nobody. Paris is big enough, is it not 1 
 there is plenty of room. As for myself, I am at heart an 
 artist, therefore I think nothing of it ! " 
 
 A porter carried up the trunks. When everything was 
 straight, the architect assisted paternally at Octave's toilet. 
 Then, rising to his feet he said : 
 
 " Now we will go and see my wife." 
 
 Down on the third floor the maid, a slim, dark, and coquet- 
 tish looking girl, said that madame was busy. Campardon, with 
 a view of putting his young friend at ease, showed him over the 
 rooms : first of all, there was the huge white and gold drawing- 
 room, highly decorated with artificial mouldings, and situated 
 between a green parlour which the architect had turned into a 
 workroom and the bedroom, into which they could not enter, 
 but the narrow shape of which, and the mauve wall-paper, he 
 described. As he next ushered him into the dining-room, all 
 in imitation wood, with an extraordinary complication of 
 baguettes and coffers, Octave, enchanted, exclaimed : 
 
 " It is very handsome ! " 
 
 On the ceilinsr, two big cracks cut right through the coffers, 
 and, in a corner, the paint had peeled off and displayed the 
 plaster. 
 
 " Yes, it creates an effect," slowly observed the architect, his 
 eyes fixed on the ceiling. " You see, these kind of houses are 
 built to create effect. Only, the walls will not bear much look-
 
 PIPING HOT ! 15 
 
 ing into. It is not twelve years old yet, and it is already crack- 
 ing. One builds the frontage of handsome stone, with a lot of 
 sculpture about it ; one gives three coats of varnish to the walls 
 of the staircase ; one paints and gilds the rooms ; and all that 
 flatters people, and inspires respect. Oh ! it is still solid, it 
 will certainly last as long as we shall ! " 
 
 He led him again across the ante-room, which was lighted by 
 a window of ground glass. To the left, looking on to the court- 
 yard, there was a second bed-chamber where his daughter 
 Angele slept, and which, all in white, looked on this November 
 afternoon as sad as a tomb. Then at the end of the passage, 
 came the kitchen, into which he insisted on conducting Octave, 
 saying that it was necessary to see everything. 
 
 " Walk in," repeated he, pushing open the door. 
 
 A terrible uproar issued from it. In spite of the cold, the 
 window was wide open. With their elbows on the rail, the dark 
 maid and a fat cook, a dissolute looking old party, were leaning 
 out into the narrow well of an inner courtyard, which lighted 
 the kitchens of each floor, placed opposite to each other. They 
 were both yelling with their backs bent, whilst, from the depths 
 of this hole, arose the sounds of vulgar voices, mingled with 
 oaths and bursts of laughter. It was like the overflow of some 
 sewer : all the domestics of the house were there, easing their 
 minds. Octave's thoughts reverted to the peaceful majesty of 
 the grand staircase. 
 
 Just then the two women, warned by some instinct, turned 
 round. They remained thunderstruck on beholding their mas- 
 ter with a gentleman. There was a gentle whistle, windows 
 were shut, and all was once more as silent as death. 
 
 "What is the'matter, Lisa?" asked Campardon. 
 
 " Sir," replied the maid, greatly excited, " it's that filthy 
 A dele again. She has thrown a rabbit's guts out of the window. 
 You should speak to Monsieur Josserand, sir." 
 
 Campardon became very grave, anxious not to make 
 any promise. He returned to his workroom, saying to 
 Octave : 
 
 " You have seen all. On each floor, the rooms are arranged 
 the same. I pay a rent of two thousand five hundred francs, 
 and on a third floor, too ! Rents are rising every day. Mon- 
 sieur Vabre must make about twenty-two thousand francs a 
 year from his house. And it will increase still more, for there 
 is a question of opening a wide thoroughfare from the Place de 
 la Bourse to the new Opera-house. And he had the ground
 
 16 PITINGHOT! 
 
 this is built upon almost for nothing, twelve years ago, after 
 that great fire caused by a druggist's servant ! " 
 
 As they entered, Octave observed, hanging above a drawing- 
 table, and in the full light from the window, a richly framed 
 picture of a Virgin, displaying in her opened breast an enor- 
 mous flaming heart. He could not repress a movement of sur- 
 prise ; he looked at Campardon, whom he had known to be a 
 rather wild fellow at Plassans. 
 
 "Ah ! I forgot to tell you," resumed the latter slightly 
 colouring, " I have been appointed diocesan architect, yes, at 
 Evreux. Oh ! a mere bagatelle as regards money, in all barely 
 two thousand francs a year. But there is scarcely anything to 
 do, a journey now and again ; for the rest I have an inspector 
 there. And, you see, it is a great deal, when one can print on 
 one's cards : ' government architect.' You can have no idea 
 what an amount of work that procures me in the highest so- 
 ciety." 
 
 Whilst speaking, he looked at the Virgin with the flaming 
 heart. 
 
 " After all," continued he in a sudden fit of frankness, " I do 
 not care a button for their paraphernalia ! " 
 
 But, on Octave bursting out laughing, the architect was 
 seized with fear. Why confide in that young man 1 He gave 
 a side glance, and, putting on an air of compunction, he tried 
 to smooth over what he had said. 
 
 " I do not care and yet I do care. Well ! yes, I am becoming 
 like that. You will see, you will see, my friend : when you 
 have lived a little longer, you will do as every one else." 
 
 And he spoke of his forty-two years, of the emptiness of life, 
 posing for being very melancholy, which his robust health belied. 
 In the artist's head which he had fashioned for himself, with 
 flowing hair and beard trimmed in the Henri IV. style, one 
 found the flat skull and square jaw of a middle-class man of 
 limited intelligence and voracious appetites. When younger, he 
 had a fatiguing gaiety. 
 
 Octave's eyes became fixed on a number of the " Gazette de 
 France," which was lying amongst some plans. Then, Campar- 
 don, more and more ill at ease, rang for the maid to know if 
 madame was at length disengaged. Yes, the doctor was just 
 leaving, madame would be there directly. 
 
 " Is Madame Campardon unwell ? " asked the young man. 
 
 " No, she is the same as usual," said the architect in a bored 
 tone of voice.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 17 
 
 "Ah ! and what is the matter with her?" 
 
 Again embarrassed, he did not give a straightforward answer. 
 
 " You know, there is always something going wrong with 
 women. She has been in this state for the last thirteen years, 
 ever since her confinement. Otherwise, she is as well as can be. 
 You will even find her stouter." 
 
 Octave asked no further questions. Just then, Lisa returned, 
 bringing a card ; and the architect, begging to be excused, 
 hastened to the drawing-room, telling the young man as he dis- 
 appeared to talk to his wife and have patience. Octave had 
 caught sight, on the door being quickly opened and closed, of 
 the black mass of a cassock in the centre of the large white and 
 gold apartment. 
 
 At the same moment, Madame Campardon entered from the 
 ante-room. He scarcely knew her again. In other days, when 
 a youngster, he had known her at Plassans, at her father's, 
 Monsieur Domergue, government clerk of the works, she was 
 thin and ugly, as puny-looking as a young girl suffering from 
 the crisis of her puberty ; and now he beheld her plump, with 
 the clear and placid complexion of a nun, soft eyes, dimples, and 
 a general appearance of an overfed she-cat. If she had not 
 been able to grow pretty, she had ripened towards thirty, 
 gaining a sweet savour and a nice fresh odour of autumn fruit. 
 He remarked, however, that she walked with difficulty, her 
 whole body wrapped, in a mignonette coloured silk dressing- 
 gown, moving ; which gave her a languid air. 
 
 "But you are a man, now !" said she gaily, holding out her 
 hands. " How you have grown, since our last journey to the 
 country ! " 
 
 And she gazed at him : tall, dark, handsome, with his well 
 kept moustache and beard. When he told her his age, twenty- 
 two, she scarcely believed it : he looked twenty-five at least. 
 He, whom the presence of a woman, even though she were the 
 lowest of servants, filled with rapture, laughed melodiously, en- 
 veloping her with his eyes of the colour of old gold, and of the 
 softness of velvet. 
 
 "Ah! yes," repeated he gently, "I have grown, I have 
 grown. Do you recollect, when your cousin Gasparine used to 
 buy me marbles 1 " 
 
 Then, he gave her news of her parents. Monsieur and 
 Madame Domergue were living happily, in the house to which 
 they had retired ; they merely complained of being very lonely, 
 bearing Campardon a grudge for having taken their little Rose
 
 18 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 from them, during a stay lie had made at Plassans ou business. 
 Then, the young man tried to bring the conversation round to 
 cousin Gasparine, having a precocious youngster's old curiosity 
 to satisfy, in the matter of an hitherto unexplained adventure: 
 the architect's mad passion for Gasparine, a tall lovely girl, but 
 poor, and his sudden marriage with skinny Rose who had a 
 dowry of thirty thousand francs, and quite a tearful scene, and 
 a quarrel, and the flight of the abandoned one to Paris, to an 
 aunt who was a dressmaker. But Madame Campardon, whose 
 placid complexion preserved a rosy paleness, did not appear to 
 understand. He was unable to draw a. single particular from 
 her. 
 
 " And your parents ? " inquired she in her turn. " How are 
 Monsieur and Madame Mouret ? " 
 
 " Very well, thank you," replied he. " My mother scarcely 
 leaves her garden. You would find the house in the Rue de la 
 Banne, just as you left it." 
 
 Madame Campardon, who seemed unable to remain standing 
 for long without feeling tired, had seated herself on a high 
 drawing-chair, her legs stretched out in her dressing-gown ; and 
 he, taking a low chair beside her, raised his head when speaking, 
 with his air of habitual adoration. With his large shoulders, he 
 was like a woman, he had a woman's feeling which at once ad- 
 mitted him to their hearts. So that, at the end of ten minutes, 
 they were both talking like two lady friends of long standing. 
 
 " Now I am your boarder," said he, passing a handsome hand 
 with neatly trimmed nails over his beard. " We shall get on 
 well together, you will see. How charming it was of you to re- 
 member the Plassans youngster and to busy yourself about 
 everything, at the first word ! " 
 
 But she protested. 
 
 " No, do not thank me. I am a great deal too lazy, I never 
 move. It was Achille who arranged everything. And, besides, 
 was it not sufficient that my mother mentioned to us your de- 
 sire to board in some family, for us to think at once of opening 
 our doors to you ? You will not be with strangers, and will be 
 company for us." 
 
 Then, he told her of his own affairs. After having obtained 
 a bachelor's diploma, to please his family, he had just passed 
 three years at Marseilles, in a big calico print warehouse, which 
 had a factory in the neighbourhood of Plassans. He had a 
 passion for trade, the trade in women's luxuries, into which 
 enters a seduction, a slow possession by gilded words and adul-
 
 PIPING HOT I 19 
 
 atory glances. And he related, laughing victoriously, how he 
 had made the five thousand francs, without which he would 
 never have ventured on coming to Paris, for he had the prudence 
 of a Jew beneath the exterior of an amiable giddy-headed fellow. 
 
 " Just fancy, they had a Pompadour calico, an old design, 
 something marvellous. No one would bite at it ; it had been 
 stowed away in the cellars for two years past. Then, as I was 
 about to travel through the departments of the Var and the 
 Basses-Alpes, it occurred to me to purchase the whole of the 
 stock and to sell it on my own account. Oh ! such a success ! 
 an amazing success ! The women quarrelled for the remnants ; 
 and to-day, thei'e is not one there who is not wearing some of 
 my calico. I must say that I talked them over so nicely ! 
 They were all with me, I might have done as I pleased with 
 them." 
 
 And he laughed, whilst Madame Campardon, charmed, and 
 troubled by thought of that Pompadour calico, questioned him : 
 " Little bouquets on an unbleached ground, was it not ? " She 
 had been trying to obtain the same thing everywhere for a 
 summer dressing-gown. 
 
 " I have travelled for two years, which is enough," resumed 
 he. " Besides, there is Paris to conquer. I must immediately 
 look out for something." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed she, " has not Achille told you ? But 
 he has a berth for you, and close by, too ! " 
 
 Pie uttered his thanks, as surprised as though he were in fairy 
 land, asking, by way of a joke, whether he would not find a wife 
 and a hundred thousand francs a-year in his room that evening, 
 when a young girl of fourteen, tall and ugly, with fair insipid- 
 looking hair, pushed open the door, and gave a slight cry of 
 fright, 
 
 " Come in and don't be afraid," said Madame Campardon. 
 " It is Monsieur Octave Mouret, whom you have heard us speak 
 of." 
 
 Then, turning towards the latter, she added : 
 
 " My daughter, Angele. We did not bring her with us at 
 our last journey. She was so delicate ! But she is getting 
 stouter now." 
 
 Angele, with the awkwardness of girls in the ungrateful age, 
 went and placed herself behind her mother, and cast glances at 
 the smiling young man. Almost immediately, Campardon re- 
 appeai-ed, looking excited ; and he could not contain himself, 
 but told his wife in a few words of his good fortune : the Abbe
 
 20 HHXG HOT ! 
 
 Mauduit, Vicar of Saint-Koch, had called about some work, 
 merely some repairs, but which might lead to many other things. 
 Then, annoyed at having spoken before Octave, and still quiver- 
 ing, he rapped one hand in the other, saying : 
 
 " Well ! well ! what are we going to do 1 " 
 
 "Why, you were going out," said Octave. " Do not let me 
 disturb you." 
 
 " Achille," murmured Madame Campardon, " that berth, at 
 the Hedouins'" 
 
 " Why, of course ! I was forgetting," exclaimed the archi- 
 tect. " My dear fellow, a place of first clerk at a large linen- 
 draper's. I know some one there who has said a word for you. 
 You are expected. It is not yet four o'clock ; shall I introduce 
 you now ? " 
 
 Octave hesitated, anxious about the bow of his necktie, 
 flurried by his mania for being neatly dressed. However, he 
 decided to go, when Madame Campardon assured him that he 
 looked very well. With a languid movement, she offered her 
 forehead to her husband, who kissed her with a great show of 
 tenderness, repeating : 
 
 " Good-bye, my darling good-bye, my pet." 
 
 " Do not forget that we dine at seven," said she, accompany- 
 ing them across the drawing-room, where they had left their hats. 
 
 Angele followed them without the slightest grace. But her 
 music-master was waiting for her, and she at once commenced 
 to strum on the instrument with her bony fingers. Octave, who 
 was lingering in the ante-room, repeating his thanks, was unable 
 to make himself heard. And, as he went downstairs, the sound 
 of the piano seemed to follow him : in the midst of the warm 
 silence other pianos from Madame Juzeur's, the Vabres', and 
 Duveyriers' were answering, playing on each floor other airs, 
 which issued, distantly and religiously, from the calm solemnity 
 of the doors. 
 
 Ou reaching the street, Campardon turned into the Rue 
 Neuve-Saint-Augustin. He remained silent, with the absorbed 
 air of a man seeking for an opportunity to broach a subject. 
 
 " Do you remember Mademoiselle Gasparine ? " asked he, at 
 length. " She is first lady assistant at the Hedouins'. You 
 will see her." 
 
 Octave thought this a good time for satisfying his curiosity. 
 
 " Ah ! " said he. " Does she live with you ] " 
 
 "No ! no ! " exclaimed the architect, hastily, and as though 
 feeling hurt at the bare idea.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 21 
 
 Then, as the young man appeared surprised at his vehemence, 
 he gently continued, speaking in an embarrassed way : 
 
 " No ; she and my wife no longer see each other. Ycu 
 know, in families Well, I met her, and I could not refuse to 
 shake hands, could 1 1 more especially as she is not very well 
 off, poor girl. So that, now, they have news of each other 
 through me. In these old quarrels, one must leave the task of 
 healing the wounds to time." 
 
 Octave was about to question him plainly on the subject of 
 his marriage, when the architect suddenly put an end to the 
 conversation by saying : 
 
 "Here we are !" 
 
 It was a large linendrapers, opening on to the narrow triangle 
 of the Place Gaillon, at the corner of the Rue Neuve-Saint- 
 Augustin and the Rue de la Michodiere. Across two windows 
 immediately above the shop was a signboard, with the words, 
 " The Ladies' Paradise, founded in 1822," in faded gilt letters, 
 whilst on the shop windows was inscribed, in red, the name of 
 the firm, " Deleuze, Hedouin, & Co." 
 
 " It has not the modern style, but it is honest and solid," 
 rapidly explained Campardon. " Monsieur Hedouin, formerly a 
 clerk, married the daughter of the elder Deleuze, who died a 
 couple of years ago ; so that the business is now managed by 
 the young couple the old Deleuze and another partner, I 
 think, both keep out of it. You will see Madame Hedouin. 
 Oh ! a woman with brains ! Let us go in." 
 
 It so happened that Monsieur Hedouin was at Lille buying 
 some linen ; therefore Madame HeYlouin received them. She 
 was standing up, a penholder behind her ear, giving orders to 
 two shopmen who were putting away some pieces of stuff on the 
 shelves ; and she appeared to him so tall, so admirably lovely, 
 with her regular features and her tidy hair, so gravely smiling, 
 in her black dress, with a turn-down collar and a man's tie, that 
 Octave, not usually timid, could only stammer out a few observa- 
 tions. Everything was settled without any waste of words. 
 
 " Well ! " said she, in her quiet way, and with her trades- 
 woman's accustomed gracefulness, " you may as well look over 
 the place, as you are not engaged." 
 
 She called one of her clerks, and put Octave under his guid- 
 ance ; then, after having politely replied to a question of Cam- 
 pardon's that Mademoiselle Gasparine was out on an errand, she 
 turned her back and resumed her work, continuing to give her 
 orders in her gentle and concise voice.
 
 22 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 " Not there, Alexandre. Put the silks up at the top. Be 
 careful, those are not the same make ! " 
 
 Campardon, after hesitating, at length said to Octave that he 
 would call again for him to take him back to dinner. Then, 
 during two hours, the young man went over the warehouse. Ho 
 found it badly lighted, small, encumbered with stock, which, 
 overflowing from the basement, became heaped up in the 
 corners, leaving only narrow passages between high walls of 
 bales. On several different occasions he ran against Madame 
 Hedouin, busy, and scuttling along the narrowest passages with- 
 out ever catching her dress in anything. She seemed the very 
 life and soul of the establishment, all the assistants belonging 
 to which obeyed the slightest sign of her white hands. Octave 
 felt hurt that she did not take more notice of him. Towards a 
 quarter to seven, as he was coming up a last time from the base- 
 ment, he was told that Campardon was on the first floor with 
 Mademoiselle Gasparine. Up there was the hosiery department, 
 which that young lady looked after. But, at the top of the 
 winding staircase, the young man stopped abruptly behind a 
 pyramid of pieces of calico systematically arranged, on hearing 
 the architect talking most familiarly to Gasparine. 
 
 " I swear to you it is not so ! " cried he, forgetting himself so 
 far as to raise his voice. 
 
 A slight pause ensued. 
 
 " How is she now ] " at length inquired the young woman. 
 
 " Well ! always the same. It comes and goes. She feels that 
 it is all over now. She will never get right again." 
 
 Gasparine resum'ed, in compassionate tones : 
 
 " My poor friend, it is you who are to be pitied. However, 
 as you have been able to manage in another way, tell her how 
 sorry I am to hear that she is still unwell " 
 
 Campardon, without letting her finish, seized hold of her by 
 the shoulders and kissed her roughly on the lips, in the gas- 
 heated air already becoming heavy beneath the low ceiling. She 
 returned his kiss, murmuring : 
 
 " To-morrow morning, if you can, at six o'clock T will remain 
 in bed. Knock three times." 
 
 Octave, bewildered, and beginning to understand, coughed, 
 and showed himself. Another surprise awaited him. Cousin 
 Gasparine had become dried up, thin and angular, with her jaw 
 projecting, and her hair coarse ; and all she had preserved of 
 her former self were her large superb eyes, in a face that had 
 now become cadaverous. "With her jealous forehead, her ardent
 
 PIPING HOT ! 23 
 
 and obstinate mouth, she troubled him as much as Rose had 
 charmed him by her tardy expansion of an indolent blonde. 
 
 Gasparine was polite, without effusiveness. She remembered 
 Plassans she talked to the young man of the old times. When 
 they went off, Campardon and he, she shook their hand.-?. 
 Downstairs, Madame He"douin simply said to Octave : 
 
 " To-morrow, then, sir." 
 
 Out in the street the young man, deafened by the cabs, 
 jostled by the passers-by, could not help remarking that this 
 lady was very beautiful, but that she did not seem particularly 
 amiable. On the black and muddy pavement, the bright win- 
 dows of freshly-painted shops, flaring with gas, cast broad rays 
 of vivid light ; whilst the old shops, with their sombre displays, 
 lit up in the interior only by smoking lamps, which burnt like 
 distant stars, saddened the streets with masses of shadow. In 
 the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin, just before turning into the Rue 
 de Choiseul, the architect bowed on passing before one of these 
 establishments. 
 
 A young woman, slim and elegant, dressed in a silk mantlet, 
 was standing in the doorway, drawing a little boy of three to- 
 wards her, so that he might not get run over. She was talking 
 to an old bareheaded lady, the shopkeeper, no doubt, whom she 
 addressed in a familiar manner. Octave could not distinguish 
 her features in that dim light, beneath the dancing reflections 
 of the neighbouring gas-jets ; she seemed to him to be pretty, 
 he only saw two bright eyes, which were fixed a moment upon 
 him like two flames. Behind her yawned the shop, damp like 
 a cellar, and emitting an odour of saltpetre. 
 
 " That is Madame Vabre, the wife of Monsieur The"ophile 
 Vabre, the landlord's younger son. You know the people who 
 live on the first floor," resumed Campardon, when he had gone 
 a few steps. " Oh ! a most charming lady ! She was born in 
 that shop, one of the best paying haberdashers of the neigh- 
 bourhood, which her parents, Monsieur and Madame Louhette, 
 still manage, for the sake of having something to occupy them. 
 They have made some money there, I will warrant ! " 
 
 But Octave did not understand trade of that sort, in those 
 holes of old Paris, where at one time a piece of stuff was 
 sufficient sign. He swore that nothing in the world would ever 
 make him consent to live in such a den. One surely caught 
 some rare aches and pains there ! 
 
 Whilst talking, they had reached the top of the stairs. They 
 were being waited for. Madame Campardon had put on a grey
 
 24 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 bilk dress, had arranged her hair coquettishly, and looked very 
 neat and prim. Campardon kissed her on the neck, with the 
 emotion of a good husband. 
 
 " Good evening, my darling ; good evening, my pet." 
 
 And they passed into the dining-room. The dinner was 
 delightful. Madame Campardon at first talked of the Deleuzes 
 and the Hedouins families respected throughout the neigh- 
 bourhood, and whose members were well known ; a cousin who 
 was a stationer in the Rue Gaillon, an uncle who had an 
 umbrella shop in the Passage Choiseul, and nephews and nieces 
 in business all round about. Then the conversation turned, 
 and they talked of Angele, who was sitting stiffly on her chair, 
 and eating with inert gestures. Her mother was bringing her 
 up at home, it was preferable ; and, not wishing to say more, 
 she blinked her eyes, to convey that young girls learnt very 
 naughty things at boarding-schools. The child had slyly 
 balanced her plate on her knife. Lisa, who was clearing the 
 cloth, missed breaking it, and exclaimed : 
 
 " It was your fault, mademoiselle ! " 
 
 A mad laugh, violently restrained, passed over Angele's face. 
 Madame Campardon contented herself with shaking her head; 
 and, when Lisa had left the room to fetch the dessert, she sang 
 her praises very intelligent, very active, a regular Paris girl, 
 always knowing which way to turn. They might very well do 
 without Victoire, the cook, who was no longer very clean, on 
 account of her great age ; but she had seen her master born at 
 his father's she was a family ruin which they respected. Then 
 as the maid returned with some baked apples : 
 
 " Conduct irreproachable," continued Madame Campardon in 
 Octave's ear. " I have discovered nothing against her as yet. 
 One holiday a month to go and embrace her old aunt, who lives 
 some distance off." 
 
 Octave observed Lisa. Seeing her nervous, flat-chested, 
 blear-eyed, the thought came to him that she must go in for a 
 precious fling, when at her old aunt's. However, he greatly 
 approved what the mother said, as she continued to give him 
 her views on education a young girl is such a heavy responsi- 
 bility, it is necessary to keep her clear even of the breaths of 
 the street. And, during this, Angele, each time Lisa leant over 
 near her chair to remove a plate, pinched her in a friendly way, 
 whilst they both maintained their composure, without even 
 moving an eyelid. 
 
 " One should be virtuous for one's own sake/' said the
 
 PIPING HOT ! 25 
 
 architect learnedly, as though by way of conclusion to thoughts 
 he had not expressed. " I do not care a button for public 
 opinion ; I am an artist ! " 
 
 After dinner, they remained in the drawing-room until mid- 
 night. It was a little jollification to celebrate Octave's arrival. 
 Madame Campardon appeared to be very tired ; little by little 
 she abandoned herself, leaning back on the sofa. 
 
 " Are you suffering, my darling ? " asked her husband. 
 
 " No," replied she in a low voice. " It is always the same 
 thing." 
 
 She looked at him, and then gently asked : 
 
 " Did you see her at the He"douins' ? " 
 
 " Yes. She asked after you." 
 
 Tears came to Eose's eyes. 
 
 " She is in good health, she is ! " 
 
 " Come, come," said the architect, showering little kisses on 
 her hair, forgetting they were not alone. " You will make 
 yourself worse again. You know very well that I love you all 
 the same, my poor pet ! " 
 
 Octave, who had discreetly retired to the window, under the 
 pretence of looking into the street, returned to study Madame 
 Campardon's countenance, his curiosity again awakened, and 
 wondering if she knew. But she had resumed her amiable and 
 doleful expression, and was curled up in the depths of the sofa, 
 like a woman who has to find her pleasure in herself, and who 
 is forcibly resigned to receiving the caresses that fall to her 
 share. 
 
 At length Octave wished them good-night. With his candle- 
 stick in his hand, he was still on the landing, when he heard the 
 sound of silk dresses rustling over the stairs. He politely stood 
 on one side. It was evidently the ladies of the fourth floor, 
 Madame Josserand and her two daughters, returning from some 
 party. As they passed, the mother, a superb and corpulent 
 woman, stared in his face; whilst the elder of the young ladies 
 kept at a distance with a sour air, and the younger, giddily 
 looked at him and laughed, in the full light of the candle. She 
 was charming, this one, with her irregular but agreeable 
 features, her clear complexion, and her auburn hair gilded with 
 light reflections ; and she had a bold grace, the free gait of a 
 young bride returning from a ball in a complicated costume of 
 ribbons and lace, like unmarried girls do not wear. The trains 
 disappeared along the balustrade : a door closed. Octave 
 lingered a moment, greatly amused by the gaiety of her eyes.
 
 26 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 He slowly ascended in his turn. A single gas-jet was burn- 
 ing, the staircase was slumbering in a heavy warmth. It seemed 
 to him more wrapped up in itself than ever, with its chaste 
 doors, its doors of rich mahogany, closing the entrances to 
 virtuous alcoves. Not a sigh passed along, it was the silence of 
 well-mannered people who hold their breath. Presently a slight 
 noise was heard; Octave leant over and beheld Monsieur 
 Gourd, in his cap and slippers, turning out the last gas-jet. 
 Then all subsided, the house became enveloped by the solemnity 
 of darkness, as though annihilated in the distinction and decency 
 of its slumbers. 
 
 Octave, nevertheless, had great difficulty in getting to sleep. 
 He kept feverishly turning over, his brain occupied with the new 
 faces he had seen. Why the devil were the Campardons so 
 amiable 1 Were they dreaming of marrying their daughter to 
 him later on ] Perhaps, too, the husband took him to board 
 with them so that he might amuse and enliven the wife 1 And 
 that poor lady, what peculiar complaint could she be suffering 
 from ? Then his ideas got more mixed ; he saw shadows pass 
 little Madame Pichon, his neighbour, with her clear empty 
 glances ; beautiful Madame Hedouin, correct and grave in her 
 black dress ; and Madame Vabre's ardent eyes, and Made- 
 moiselle Josserand's gay laugh. How they swarmed in a few 
 hours in the streets of Paris ! It had always been his dream, 
 ladies who would take him by the hand and help him in his 
 affairs. But these kept returning and mingling with fatiguing 
 obstinacy. He knew not which to choose ; he tried to keep his 
 voice soft, his gestures cajoling. And suddenly, worn-out, 
 exasperated, he yielded to his brutal inner nature, to the 
 ferocious disdain in which he held woman, beneath his air of 
 amorous adoration. 
 
 "Are they going to let me sleep at all?" said he out loud, 
 turning violently on to his back. " The first who likes, it is the 
 same to me, and all together if it pleases them ! To sleep now, 
 it will be daylight to-morrow."
 
 27 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 WHEN Madame Josscraud, preceded by her young ladies, left 
 the evening party given by Madame Dambreville, who resided 
 on a fourth floor in the Rue de Rivoli, at the corner of the Rue 
 de 1'Oratoive, she roxighly slammed the street door, in the sud- 
 den outburst of a passion she had been keeping under for the 
 past two hours. Berthe, her younger daughter, had again just 
 gone and missed a husband. 
 
 "Well ! what are you doing there 1" said she angrily to the 
 young girls, who were standing under the arcade and watching 
 the cabs pass by. u Walk on ! don't have any idea we are 
 going to ride ! To waste another two francs, eh ? " 
 
 And as Hor tense, the elder, murmured : 
 
 " It will be pleasant, with this mud. My shoes will never 
 recover it." 
 
 " Walk on ! " resumed the mother, all beside herself. " When 
 you have no more shoes, you can stop in bed, that's all. A 
 deal of good it is, taking you out ! " 
 
 Berthe and Hortense bowed their heads and turned into the 
 Rue de 1'Oratoire. They held their long skirts up as high as 
 they could over their crinolines, squeezing their shoulders to- 
 gether and shivering under their thin opera-cloaks. Madame 
 Josserand followed behind, wrapped in an old fur cloak made 
 of Calabar skins, looking as shabby as cats'. All three, without 
 bonnets, had their hair enveloped in lace wraps, head-dresses 
 which caused the last passers-by to look back, surprised at see- 
 ing them glide along the houses, one by one, with bent backs, 
 and their eyes fixed on the puddles. And the mother's exas- 
 peration increased still more at the recollection of many similar 
 returns home, for three winters past, hampered by their gay 
 dresses, amidst the black mud of the streets and the jeers of 
 belated blackguards. No, decidedly, she had had enough of 
 dragging her young ladies about to the four comers of Paris,
 
 28 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 without daring to venture on the luxury of a cab, for fear of 
 having to omit a dish from the morrow's dinner ! 
 
 " And she makes marriages ! " said she out loud, returning 
 to Madame Dambreville, and talking alone to ease herself, 
 without even addressing her daughters, who had turned down 
 the Rue Saint-Honore. " They are pretty, her marriages ! A 
 lot of impertinent minxes, who come from no one knows where ! 
 Ah ! if one was not obliged ! It's like her last success, that 
 bride whom she brought out, to show us that it did not always 
 fail ; a fine specimen ! a wretched child who had to be sent 
 back to her convent for six months, after a little mistake, to be 
 re-whitewashed ! " 
 
 The young girls were crossing the Place du Palais-Royal, 
 when a shower came on. It was a regular rout. They stopped, 
 slipping, splashing, looking again at the vehicles passing empty 
 along. 
 
 " Walk on ! " cried the mother, pitilessly. " We are too 
 near now ; it is not worth two francs. And your brother Le"ou, 
 who refused to leave with us for fear of having to pay for the 
 cab ! So much the better for him if he gets what he wants at 
 that lady's , but we can say that it is not at all decent. A 
 woman who is over fifty and who only receives young men ! 
 An old nothing-much whom a high personage married to that 
 fool Dambreville, appointing him head clerk ! " 
 
 Hortense and Berthe trotted along in the rain, one before the 
 other, without seeming to hear. When their mother thus 
 eased herself, letting everything out, arid forgetting the whole- 
 some strictness with which she kept them, it was agreed that 
 they should be deaf. Berthe, however, revolted on entering 
 the gloomy and deserted Rue de 1'Echelle. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " said she, " the heel of my shoe is coming off. 
 I cannot go a step further ! " 
 
 Madame Josserand's wrath became terrible. 
 
 " Just walk on ! Do I complain 1 Is it my place to be out 
 in the street at such a time and in such weather ] It would be 
 different if you had a father like others ! But no, the fine 
 gentleman stays at home taking his ease. It is always my turn 
 to drag you about ; he would never accept the burden. Well 1 
 I declare to you that I have had enough of it. Your father 
 may take you out in future if he likes ; may the devil have me 
 if ever again I accompany you to houses where I am plagued 
 like that ! A man who deceived me as to his capacities, and 
 who has never yet procured me the least pleasure ! Ah ! good
 
 PIPING HOT 1 29 
 
 heavens ! there is one I would not marry now, if it were to 
 come over again ! " 
 
 The young ladies no longer protested. They were already 
 acquainted with this inexhaustible chapter of their mother's 
 blighted hopes. With their lace wraps drawn over their faces, 
 their shoes sopping wet, they rapidly followed the Rue Sainte- 
 Anne. But, in the Rue de Choiseul, at the very door of her 
 house, a last humiliation awaited Madame Josserand : the 
 Duveyriers' carriage splashed her as it passed in. 
 
 On the stairs, the mother and the young ladies, worn out and 
 enraged, recovered their gracefulness when they had to pass 
 before Octave. Only, as soon as ever their door was closed be- 
 hind them, they rushed through the dark apartment, knocking 
 up against the furniture, and tumbled into the dining-room, 
 where Monsieur Josserand was writing by the feeble light of a 
 little lamp. 
 
 " Failed ! " cried Madame Josserand, letting herself fall on to 
 a chair. 
 
 And, with a rough gesture, she tore the lace wrap from her 
 head, threw her fur cloak on to the back of her chair, and ap- 
 peared in a flaring dress trimmed with black satin and cut very 
 low in the neck, looking enormous, her shoulders still beautiful, 
 and resembling a mare's shining flanks. Her square face, with 
 its drooping cheeks and too big nose, ex-pressed the tragic fury 
 of a queen restraining herself from descending to the use of 
 coarse, vulgar expressions. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Monsieur Josseraud simply, bewildered by this 
 violent entrance. 
 
 He kept blinking his eyes and was seized with uneasiness. 
 His wife positively crushed him when she displayed that giant 
 throat, the full weight of which he seemed to feel on the nape 
 of his neck. Dressed in an old thread-bare frock-coat which he 
 was finishing to wear out at home, his face looking as though 
 tempered and expunged by thirty-five years spent at an office 
 desk, he watched her for a moment with his big lifeless blue 
 eyes. Then, after thrusting his grey locks behind his ears, 
 feeling very embarrassed and unable to find a word to say, he 
 attempted to resume his work. 
 
 " But you do not seem to understand ! " resumed Madame 
 Josserand in a shrill voice. " I tell you that there is another 
 marriage knocked on the head, and it is the fourth ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know, the fourth," murmured he. " It is 
 annoying, very annoying."
 
 30 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 And, to escape from his wife's terrifying nudity, he turned 
 towards his daughters with a good-natured smile. They also 
 were removing their lace wraps and their opera-cloaks ; the 
 elder one was in blue and the younger in pink ; their dresses, 
 too, free in cut and over- trimmed, were like a provocation, 
 Hortcnse, with her sallow complexion, and her face spoilt by a 
 nose like her mother's, which gave her an air of disdainful ob- 
 stinacy, had just turned twenty-three and looked twenty-eight ; 
 whilst Berthe, two years younger, retained all a child's grace- 
 fulness, having, however, the same features, but more delicate 
 and dazzlingly white, and only menaced with the coarse family 
 mask after she entered the fifties. 
 
 " It will do no good if you go on looking at us for ever ! " 
 cried Madame Josserand, "And, for God's sake, put your 
 writing away ; it worries my nerves ! " 
 
 " But, my dear," said he peacefully, " I am addressing 
 wrappers." 
 
 " Ah ! yes, your wrappers at three francs a thousand ! Is it 
 with those three francs that you "hope to marry your daughters?" 
 
 Beneath the feeble light of the little lamp, the table was in- 
 deed covered with large sheets of coarse paper, printed wrappers, 
 the blanks of which Monsieur Josserand filled in for a largo 
 publisher who had several periodicals. As his salary as cashier 
 did not suffice, he passed whole nights at this unprofitable 
 labour, working in secret, and seized with shame at the idea 
 that any one might discover their penury. 
 
 " Three francs are three francs," replied he in his slow, tired 
 voice. " Those three francs will enable you to add ribbons to 
 your dresses, and to offer some pastry to your guests on your 
 Tuesdays at home." 
 
 He regretted his words as soon as he had uttered them ; for he 
 felt that they struck Madame Josseraud full in the heart, in the 
 most sensitive part of her wounded pride. A rush of blood 
 purpled her shoulders ; she seemed on the point of breaking out 
 into revengeful utterances ; then, by an effort of dignity, she 
 merely stammered, 
 
 " Ah ! good heavens ! ah ! good heavens ! " 
 
 And she looked at her daughters ; she magisterially crushed 
 her husband beneath a shrug of her terrible shoulders, as much 
 as to say, " Eh ! you hear him ? what an idiot ! " The daughters 
 nodded their heads. Then, seeing himself beaten, and laying 
 down his pen with regret, the father opened the "Temps" news- 
 paper, which he brought home every evening from his office.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 31 
 
 " Is Saturnin asleep ? " sharply inquired Madame Josserand, 
 speaking of her younger son. 
 
 "Yes, long ago," replied he. "I also sent Adele to bed. 
 And Le'on, did you see him at the Dambrevillea' ? " 
 
 " Of course ! he sleeps there I " she let out in a cry of rancour 
 which she was unable to restrain. 
 
 The father, surprised, naively added, 
 
 "Ah ! you think so?" 
 
 Hortense and Bei the had become deaf again. They faintly 
 smiled, however, affecting to be busy with their shoes, which 
 were in a pitiful state. To create a diversion, Madame Josseraud 
 tried to pick another quarrel with Monsieur Josserand ; she 
 begged him to take his newspaper away every morning, not to 
 leavp it lying about in the room all day, as he had done with 
 the previous number, for instance, a number containing the re- 
 port of an abominable trial, which his daughters might have 
 read. She well recognised there his want of morality. 
 
 " Well, are we going to bed 1 " asked Hortense. " I am 
 hungry." 
 
 " Oh ! and I too ! " said Berthe. " I am famishing." 
 
 " What ! you are hungry ! " cried Madame Josserand beside 
 herself. " Did you not eat any cake there, then ? What a 
 couple of geese ! You should have eaten some ! I did." 
 
 The young ladies resisted. They were hungry, they were 
 feeling quite ill. So the mother accompanied them to the 
 kitchen, to see if they could discover anything. The father at 
 once returned stealthily to his wrappers. He well knew that, 
 without them, every little luxury in the home would have dis- 
 appeared ; and that was why, in spite of the scorn and unjust 
 quarrels, he obstinately remained till daybreak engaged in this 
 secret work, happy like the worthy man he was whenever he 
 fancied that an extra piece of lace would hook a rich husband. 
 As they were already stinting the food, without managing to 
 save sufficient for the dresses and the Tuesday receptions, he 
 resigned himself to his martyr-like labour, dressed in rags, 
 whilst the mother and daughters wandered from drawing-room 
 to drawing-room with flowers in their hair. 
 
 " What a stench there is here ! " cried Madame Josserand on 
 entering the kitchen. " To think that I can never get that 
 slut Adele to leave the window slightly open ! She pretends 
 that the room is so very .cold in the morning." 
 
 She went and opened the window, and from the narrow court- 
 yard separating the kitchens there rose an icy dampness, the
 
 32 PIPIXG HOT ! 
 
 unsavoury odour of a musty cellar. The caudle which Berthe 
 had lighted caused colossal shadows of naked shoulders to dance 
 upon the wall. 
 
 " And what a state the place is in ! " continued Madame 
 Josserand, sniffing about, and poking her nose into all the 
 dirty corners. " She has not scrubbed her table for a fortnight. 
 Here are plates which have been waiting to be washed since 
 the day before yesterday. On my word, it is disgusting ! And 
 her sink, just look ! smell it now, smell her sink ! " 
 
 Her rage was lashing itself. She tumbled the crockery about 
 with her arms white with rice powder and bedecked with gold 
 bangles ; she trailed her flaring dress amidst the grease stains, 
 catching it in cooking utensils thrown under the tables, risking 
 her hardly earned luxury amongst the vegetable parings. At 
 last, the discovery of a notched knife made her auger break all 
 bounds. 
 
 " I will turn her into the street to-morrow morning ! " 
 
 " You will be no better off," quietly remarked Hortense. 
 " We are never able to keep anyone. This is the first who has 
 stayed three months. The moment they begin to get a little 
 decent and know how to make melted butter, off they go." 
 
 Madame Josserand bit her lips. As a matter of fact, Adele 
 alone, stupid and lousy, and only lately arrived from her native 
 Brittany, could put up with the ridiculously vain penury of 
 these middle-class people, who took advantage of her ignorance 
 and her slovenliness to half starve her. Twenty times already, 
 on account of a comb found on the bread or of some abominable 
 stew which gave them all the colic, they had talked of sending 
 her about her business ; then, they had resigned themselves to 
 putting up with her, in the presence of the difficulty of replac- 
 ing her, for the pilferers themselves declined to be engaged, to 
 enter that hole, where even the lumps of sugar were counted. 
 
 " I can't discover anything ! " murmured Berthe, who was 
 rummaging a cupboard. 
 
 The shelves had the melancholy emptiness and the false 
 luxury of families where inferior meat is purchased, so as to be 
 able to put flowers on the table. All that was lying about 
 were some white and gold porcelain plates, perfectly empty, a 
 crumb-brush, the silver-plated handle of which was all tarnished, 
 and some cruets without a drain of oil or vinegar in them ; 
 there was not a forgotten crust, not a morsel of dessert, not a 
 fruit, nor a sweet, nor a remnant of cheese. One could feel 
 that Adele's hunger never satisfied, lapped up the rare dribblets
 
 PIPING HOT ! S3 
 
 of sauce which her betters left at the bottoms of the dishes, to 
 the extent of rubbing the gilt off. 
 
 " But she has gone and eaten all the rabbit ! " cried Madame 
 Josserand. 
 
 "True," said Hortense, " there was the tail piece. Ah! no, 
 here it is. It would have surprised me if she had dared. I 
 shall stick to it, you know. It is cold, but it is better than 
 nothing ! " 
 
 Berthe, on her side, was rummaging about, but without re- 
 sult. At length her hand encountered a bottle, in which her 
 mother had diluted the contents of an old pot of jam, so as to 
 manufacture some red currant syrup for her evening parties. 
 She poured herself out half a glass, saying : 
 
 " Ah ! an idea ! I will soak some bread in this, as it is all 
 there is ! " 
 
 But Madame Josserand, all anxiety, looked at her sternly. 
 
 " Pray, don't restrain yourself, fill your glass whilst you are 
 about it I It will be quite sufficient if I offer water to the 
 ladies and gentlemen to-morrow, will it not ] " 
 
 Fortunately, the discovery of another of Adele's evil doings 
 interrupted her reprimand. She was still turning about, 
 searching for crimes, when she caught sight of a volume on the 
 table ; and then occurred a supreme explosion. 
 
 " Oh ! the beast ! she has again brought my Lamartine into 
 the kitchen ! " 
 
 It was a copy of " Jocelyn." She took it up and rubbed it 
 hard, as though dusting it ; and she kept repeating that she 
 had twenty times forbidden her to leave it lying about in that 
 way, to write her accounts upon. Berthe and Hortense, mean- 
 while, had shared the little piece of bread which remained ; 
 then carrying their suppers away with them, they said that they 
 would undress first. The mother gave the icy cold stove a last 
 glance, and returned to the dining-room, tightly holding her 
 Lamartine beneath the massive flesh of her arm. 
 
 Monsieur Josserand continued writing. He trusted that hia 
 wife would be satisfied with crushing him with a glance of con- 
 tempt as she crossed the room to go to bed. But she again 
 dropped on to a chair, facing him, and looked at him fixedly 
 without speaking. He felt this look, and was seized with such 
 uneasiness, that his pen kept sputtering on the flimsy wrapper 
 paper. 
 
 " So it was you who prevented Adele making a cream for to- 
 morrow evening 1 " said she at length. 
 
 .c
 
 34 PIPING HOT I 
 
 He raised his head in amazement. 
 
 " I, my dear ! " 
 
 " Oh 1 you will again deny it, as you always do. Then, why 
 has she not made the cream I ordered ? You know very well 
 that before our party to-morrow uncle Bachelard is coming to 
 dinner, it is his saint's-day, which is very awkward, happen- 
 ing as it does on my reception day. If there is no cream, 
 we must have an ice, and that will be another five francs 
 squandered ! " 
 
 He did not attempt to exculpate himself. Not daring to 
 resume his work, he began to play with his penholder. There 
 was a brief pause. 
 
 " To-morrow morning," resumed Madame Josserand, " you 
 will oblige me by calling on the Campardons and reminding 
 them very politely, if you can, that we are expecting to see 
 them in the evening. Their young man arrived this afternoon. 
 Ask them to bring him with them. Do you understand ? I 
 wish him to come." 
 
 " What young man ? " 
 
 " A young man ; it woiild take too long to explain everything 
 to you. I have obtained all necessary information about him. 
 I am obliged to try everything, as you leave your daughters 
 entirely to me, like a bundle of rubbish, without occupying 
 yourself about marrying them any more than about marrying 
 the Grand Turk." 
 
 The thought revived her anger. 
 
 " You see, I contain myself, but it is more, oh ! it is more 
 than I can stand I Say nothing, sir, say nothing, or really my 
 anger will get the better of me." 
 
 He said nothing, but she vented her wrath upon him all the 
 same. 
 
 " It has become unbearable ! I warn you, that one of these 
 mornings I shall go off, and leave you here with your two 
 idiotic daughters. Was I born to live such a skinflint life as 
 this ? Always cutting farthings into four, never even having a 
 decent pair of boots, and not being able to receive my friends 
 decently ! And all that through your fault ! Ah ! do not 
 shako your head, do not exasperate me more than I am already ! 
 Yes, your fault ! You deceived me, sir, basely deceived me. 
 One should not marry a woman, when one is decided to let her 
 want for everything. You played the boaster, you pretended 
 you had a fine future before you, you were the friend of your 
 employer's sons, of thos brothers Bernheim, who, since, have
 
 PIPING HOT I 86 
 
 merely made a fool of you. What ! You dare to pretend that 
 they have not made a fool of you ! But you ought to be their 
 partner by now ! It is you who made their business what it is, 
 one of the first glass-houses in Paris, and you have remained 
 their cashier, a subordinate, a hireling. Keally ! you have no 
 spirit ; hold your tongue." 
 
 " I get eight thousand francs a year," murmured the cashier. 
 " It is a very good berth." 
 
 "A good berth, after more than thirty years' labour !" re- 
 sumed Madame Josserand. " They grind you down, and you 
 are delighted. Do you know what I would have done, had I 
 been in your place ? well ! I would have put the business into 
 my pocket twenty times over. It was so easy. I saw it when I 
 married you, and since then I have never ceased advising you 
 to do so. But it required some initiative and intelligence ; it 
 was a question of not going to sleep on your leather-covered 
 stool, like a blockhead." 
 
 " Come," interrupted Monsieur Josserand, " are you going to 
 reproach me now with being honest 1 " 
 
 She jumped up, and advanced towards him, flourishing her 
 Lamartine. 
 
 "Honest! in what way do you mean? Begin by being 
 honest towards me. Others do not count till afterwards, I 
 hope ! And I repeat, sir, it is not honest to take a young girl 
 in, pretending to be ambitious to become rich some day, and 
 then to end by losing what little wits you had in looking after 
 somebody else's cashbox. On my word, I was nicely swindled ! 
 Ah ! if it were to happen over again, and if I had only known 
 your family ! " 
 
 She was walking violently about. He could not restrain a 
 slight sign of impatience, in spite of his great desire for peace. 
 
 " You would do better to go to bed, Eleonore," said he. " It 
 is past one o'clock, and I assure you this work is pressing. My 
 family has done you no harm, so do not speak of it." 
 
 "Ah ! and why, pray? Your family is no more sacred than 
 another, I suppose. Every one at Clermont knows that your 
 father, after selling his business of solicitor, let himself bo 
 ruined by a servant. You might have seen your daughters 
 married long ago, had he not taken up with a strumpet when 
 over seventy. There is another who has swindled me ! " 
 
 Monsieur Josserand turned pale. He replied in a trembling 
 voice, which rose higher as he went on : 
 
 " Listen, do not let us throw our relations at each other's
 
 36 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 heads. Your father never paid me your dowry, the thirty 
 thousand francs he promised." 
 
 "Ehl what] thirty thousand francs !" 
 
 " Exactly ; don't pretend to be surprised. And if my father 
 met with misfortunes, yours behaved in a most disgraceful way 
 towards us. I was never able to find out clearly what he left. 
 There were all sorts of underhand dealings, so that the school 
 in the Rue des Fosses-Saint-Victor should remain with your 
 sister's husband, that shabby usher who no longer recognises us 
 now. "We were robbed as though in a wood." 
 
 Madame Josserand, now ghastly white, was choking with 
 rage before her husband's inconceivable revolt. 
 
 " Do not say a word against papa ! For forty years he was 
 a credit to instruction. Go and talk of the Bachelard Academy 
 in the neighbourhood of the Pantheon ! And as for my sister 
 and my brother-in-law, they are what they are. They have 
 robbed me, I know ; but it is not for you to say so. I will not 
 permit it, understand that ! Do I speak to you of your sister, 
 who eloped with an officer 1 Oh ! you have indeed some nice 
 relations ! " 
 
 "An officer who married her, madame. There is uncle 
 Bachelard, too, your brother, a man totally destitute of all 
 morality " 
 
 " But you are becoming cracked, sir ! He is rich, he earns 
 what he pleases as a commission merchant, and he has promised 
 to provide Berthe's dowry. Do you then respect nothing ? " 
 
 " Ah ! yes, provide Berthe's dowry ! Will you bet that he 
 will give a sou, and that we shall not have had to put up with 
 his nasty habits for nothing 1 He makes me feel ashamed of 
 him every time he comes here. A liar, a rake, a person who 
 takes advantage of the situation, who for fifteen years past, 
 seeing us all on our knees before his fortune, has been taking 
 me eveiy Saturday to spend two hours in his office, to go over 
 his books ! It saves him five francs. We have never yet been 
 favoured with a single present from him." 
 
 Madame Josserand, catching her breath, was wrapped for a 
 moment in thought. Then she uttered thii last cry : 
 
 " And you have a nephew in the police, sir ! " 
 
 A fresh pause ensued. The light from the little lamp was 
 becoming dimmer, wrappers were flying about beneath Monsieur 
 Josserand's feverish gestures ; and he looked his wife full in 
 the face his wife in her low neck dress determined to say 
 everything, and quivering with courage.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 87 
 
 " With eight thousand francs a year one can do many 
 things," resumed he. "You are always complaining. But 
 you should not have arranged your housekeeping on a footing 
 superior to our means. It is your mania for receiving and for 
 paying visits, of having your at homes, of giving tea and 
 pastry " 
 
 She did not let him finish. 
 
 " Now we have come to it ! Shut me up in a box at once. 
 Reproach me for not walking out as naked as my hand. And 
 your daughters, sir, who will marry them if we never see any 
 one? We don't see many people as it is. It does well to 
 sacrifice oneself, to be judged afterwards with such meanness of 
 heart !" 
 
 " We have all of us, rnadame, sacrificed ourselves. Le"on had 
 to make way for his sisters ; and he left the house to earn his 
 own living without any assistance from us. As for Saturnin, 
 poor child, he does not even know how to read. And I deny 
 myself everything ; I pass my nights " 
 
 " Why did you have daughters then, sir? You are surely 
 not going to reproach them with their education, I hope ? Any 
 other man in your place would be proud of Hortense's diploma 
 and of Berthe's talents. The dear child again delighted every 
 one this evening with her waltz, the ' Banks of the Oise,' and 
 her last painting will certainly enchant our guests to-morrow. 
 But you, sir, you are not even a father ; you would have sent 
 your children to take cows to grass, instead of sending them to 
 school." 
 
 " Well ! I took out an assurance for Berthe's benefit. Was 
 it not you, madame, who, when the fourth payment became 
 due, made use of the money to cover the drawing-room furni- 
 ture ? And, since then, you have even negotiated the premiums 
 that had been paid." 
 
 " Of course ! as } 7 ou leave us to die of hunger. Ah ! you 
 may indeed bite your fingers, if your daughters become old 
 maids." 
 
 " Bite my fingers ! But, Jove's thunder ! it is you who 
 frighten the likely men away, with your dresses and your 
 ridiculous parties ! " 
 
 Never before had Monsieur Josserand gone so far. Madame 
 Josserand, suffocating, stammered forth the words : " I I 
 ridiculous ! " when the door opened. Hortense and Berthe 
 were returning, in their petticoats and little calico jackets, their 
 hair let down, and their feet in old slippers.
 
 88 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 " Ah, well ! it is too cold in our room ! " said Berthe shiver- 
 ing. " The food freezes in your mouth. Here, at least, there 
 has been a fire this evening." 
 
 And both dragging their chairs along the floor, seated them- 
 selves close to the stove, which still retained a little warmth. 
 Hortense held her rabbit bone in the tips of her fingers, and 
 was. skilfully picking it. Berthe dipped pieces of bread in her 
 glass of syrup. The parents, however, were so excited that 
 they did not even appear to notice their arrival. They con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " Ridiculous ridiculous, sir ! I shall not be ridiculous 
 again ! Let my head be cut off if I wear out another pair of 
 gloves in trying to get them husbands. It is your turn now ! 
 And try not to be more ridiculous than I have been ! " 
 
 "I daresay, madame, now that you have exhibited them and 
 compromised them everywhere ! Whether you marry them or 
 whether you don't, I don't care a button ! " 
 
 " And I care less, Monsieur Josserand ! I care so little that 
 I will bundle them out into the street if you aggravate me 
 much more. And if you have a mind to, you can follow them, 
 the door is open. Ah, heavens ! what a good riddance ! " 
 
 The young ladies quietly listened, used to these lively re- 
 criminations. They were still eating, their little jackets 
 dropping from their shoulders, and their bare skin gently rub- 
 bing against the lukewarm earthenware of the stove ; and they 
 looked charming in this undress, with their youth and their 
 hearty appetites and their eyes heavy with sleep. 
 
 " You are very foolish to quarrel," at length observed Hor- 
 tense, with her mouth full. " Mamma only spoils her temper, 
 and papa will be ill ngain to-morrow at his office. It seems to 
 me that we are eld enough to be able to find husbands for our- 
 selves." 
 
 This created a diversion. The father, thoroughly exhausted, 
 made a feint of returning to his wrappers; and he sat with 
 his nose over the paper, unable to write, his hands trembling 
 violently. The mother, who had been moving about the room 
 like an escaped lioness, went and planted herself in front of 
 Hortense. 
 
 " If you are speaking for yourself," cried she, " you are a 
 great ninny ! Your -Verdier will never marry you." 
 
 " That is my business," boldly replied the young girl. 
 
 After having contemptuously refused five or six suitors, a 
 little clerk, the son of a tailor, and other yotuig fellows whose
 
 PIPING HOT ! 80 
 
 prospects she did not consider good enough, she had ended by 
 setting her cap at a barrister, whom she had met at the Dam- 
 brevilles', and who was already turned forty. She considered 
 him very clever, and destined to make a name in the world. 
 But the misfortune was that for fifteen years past Verdier had 
 been living with a mistress, who in the neighbourhood even 
 passed for his wife. She knew of this, though, and by no 
 means let it trouble her. 
 
 " My child," said the father, raising his head once more, " I 
 begged you not to think of this marriage. You know the 
 situation." 
 
 She stopped sucking her bone, and said with an air of im- 
 patience : 
 
 " What of it ? Verdier has promised me he will leave her. 
 She is a fool." 
 
 " You are wrong, Hortense, to speak in that way. And if he 
 should also leave you one day to return to her whom you would 
 have caused him to abandon 1 " 
 
 " That is my business," sharply retorted the young woman. 
 
 Berthe listened, fully acquainted with this matter, the con- 
 tingencies of which she discussed daily with her sister. She 
 was, besides, like her father, all in favour of the poor woman, 
 whom it was proposed to turn out into the street, after having 
 performed a wife's duties for fifteen years. But Madame 
 Josserand intervened. 
 
 "Leave off, do ! those wretched women always end by re- 
 turning to the gutter. Only, it is Verdier who will never bring 
 himself to leave her. He is fooling you, my dear. In your 
 place, I would not wait a second for him ; I would try and find 
 some one else." 
 
 Hortense's voice became sourer still, whilst two livid spots 
 appeared on her cheeks. 
 
 "Mamma, you know how I am. I -want him, and I will 
 have him. I will never marry any one else, even, though he 
 kept me waiting a hundred years." 
 
 The mother shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " And you call others fools ! " 
 
 But the young girl rose up, quivering with rage. 
 
 " Here ! don't go pitching into me ! " cried she. " T have 
 finished my rabbit. I prefer to go to bed. As you are unable 
 to find us husbands, you must let us fiud them in our own 
 way." 
 
 And she withdrew, violently slamming the door behind her.
 
 40 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 Madame Josserand turned majestically towards her husband, 
 and uttered this profound remark : 
 
 " That, sir, is the result of your bringing up ! " 
 
 Monsieur Josseraud did not protest ; he was occupied in 
 dotting his thumb nail with ink, whilst waiting till they 
 allowed him to resume his writing. Berthe, who had eaten her 
 bread, dipped a finger in the glass to finish up her syrup. 
 She felt comfortable, with her back nice and warm, and did 
 not hurry herself, being undesirous of encountering her sister's 
 quarrelsome temper in their bedroom. 
 
 " Ah ! and that is the reward ! " continued Madame Josser- 
 and, resuming her walk to and fro across the dining-room. 
 " For twenty years one wears oneself out for these young ladies, 
 one goes in want of everything in order to make them accom- 
 plished women, and they will not even let one have the satis- 
 faction of seeing them married according to one's own fancy. 
 It would be different if they had ever been refused a single 
 thing ! But I have never kept a sou for myself, and 
 have even gone without clothes to dress them as though we 
 had an income of fifty thousand francs. No, really, it is too 
 absurd ! When those hussies have had a careful education, 
 have got just as much religion as is necessary, and the airs of 
 rich girls, they leave you in the lurch, they talk of marrying 
 barristers, adventurers, who lead lives of debauchery !" 
 
 She stopped before Berthe, and, menacing her with her finger, 
 said : 
 
 " As for you, if you follow your sister's example, you will 
 have me to deal with." 
 
 Then she recommenced stamping round the room, speaking 
 to herself, jumping from one idea to another, contradicting 
 herself with the brazenness of a woman who will always be in 
 the right. 
 
 " I did what I ought to do, and were it to be done over again 
 I should do the same. In life, it is only the most shamefaced 
 who lose. Money is money ; when one has none, one may as 
 well retire. Whenever I had twenty sous, I always said I had 
 forty ; for that is real wisdom, it is better to be envied than 
 pitied. It is no use having a good education if one has not 
 good clothes to wear, for then people despise you. It is not 
 just, but it is so. I would sooner wear dirty petticoats than a 
 cotton dress. Feed on potatoes, but have a chicken when you 
 have any one to dinner. And only fools would say the con- 
 trary 1 "
 
 PIPING HOT ! 41 
 
 She looked fixedly at her husband, to whom those last re- 
 flections were addressed. The latter, worn out, and declining 
 another battle, had the cowardice to declare : 
 
 " It is true ; money is everything in our days." 
 
 " You hear," resumed Madame Josserand, returning towards 
 her daughter. "Go straight ahead and try to give iis satis- 
 faction. How is it you let this marriage fall through ? " 
 
 Berthe understood that her turn had come. 
 
 " I don't know, mamma," murmured she 
 
 " A second head-clerk in a government office," continued the 
 mother ; " not yet thirty, with a splendid future before him. 
 Eveiy month he would be bringing you his money ; it is some- 
 thing substantial that, there is nothing like it. You have been 
 up to some tomfoolery again, just the same as with the others." 
 
 " I have not, mamma, I assure you. He must have obtained 
 some information have heard that I had no money." 
 
 But Madame Josserand cried out at this. 
 
 " And the dowry that your uncle is going to give you ! 
 Every one knows about that dowry. No, there is something 
 else ; he withdrew too abruptly. When dancing you passed 
 into the parlour." 
 
 Berthe became confused. 
 
 " Yes, mamma. And, as we were alone, he even tried to do 
 some naughty things ; he kissed me, seizing hold of me like 
 that. Then I was frightened ; I pushed him up against the 
 furniture " 
 
 Her mother, again overcome with rage, interrupted her. 
 
 " Pushed him up against the furniture, ah ! the wretched 
 girl pushed him up against the furniture 1 " 
 
 " But, mamma, he held me " 
 
 " What of it 1 He held you, that was nothing ! A fat lot 
 of good it is sending such fools to school ! Whatever did they 
 teach you, eh 1 " 
 
 A rush of colour rose to the young girl's cheeks and shoulders. 
 Tears filled her eyes, whilst she looked as confused as a violated 
 virgin. 
 
 " It was not my fault ; he looked so wicked. I did not know 
 what to do." 
 
 " Did not know what to do ! she did not know what to do ! 
 Have I not told you a hundred times that your fears are ri- 
 diculous? It is your lot to live in society. When a man is 
 rough, it is because he loves you, and there is always a way of 
 keeping him in his place in a nice manner. For a kiss behind a
 
 42 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 door ! in truth now, ought you to mention such a thing to us, 
 your parents ? And you push people against the furniture, and 
 you drive away your suitors ! " 
 
 She assumed a doctoral air as she continued : 
 
 " It is ended ; I despair of doing anything with you, you are 
 too stupid, my girl. One would have to coach you in every- 
 thing, and that would be awkward. As you have no fortune, 
 understand at least that you must hook the men by some other 
 means. One should be amiable, have loving eyes, abandon 
 one's hand occasionally, allow a little playfulness, without 
 seeming to do so ; in short, one should angle for a husband. 
 You make a great mistake, if you think it improves your eyes 
 to cry like a fool ! " 
 
 Berthe was sobbing. 
 
 "You aggravate me leave off crying. Monsieur Josserand, 
 just tell your daughter not to spoil her face by crying in that 
 \vay. It will be too much if she becomes ugly ! " 
 
 " My child," said the father, " be reasonable ; listen to your 
 mother's good advice. You must not spoil your good looks, 
 my darling." 
 
 " And what irritates me is that she is not so bad when she 
 likes," resumed Madame Josserand. " Come, wipe your eyes, 
 look at me as if I was a gentleman courting you. You smile, 
 you drop your fan, so that the gentleman, in picking it up, 
 slightly touches your fingers. That is not the way. You 
 are holding you head up too stifly, you look like a sick hen. 
 Lean back more, show your neck ; it is too young to be 
 hidden." 
 
 " Then, like this, mamma 1 '' 
 
 " Yes, that is better. And never be stiff, be supple. Men 
 do not care for planks. And, above all, if they go too far do 
 not play the simpleton. A man who goes too far is done for, 
 my dear." 
 
 The drawing-room clock struck two; and, in the excitement 
 of that prolonged vigil, in her desire now become furious for an 
 immediate marriage, the mother forgot herself in thinking out 
 loud, making her daughter turn about like a papier-mache doll. 
 The latter, without spirit or will, abandoned herself ; but she 
 felt very heavy at heart, fear and shame brought a lump to her 
 throat. Suddenly, in the midst of a silvery laugh which her 
 mother was forcing her to attempt, she burst into sobs, her 
 face all upset : 
 
 " No 1 no ! it pains me ! " stammered she.
 
 PIPING HOT I 43 
 
 For a second, Madame Josseraud remained incensed and 
 amazed. Ever since she left the Dambrevilles', her hand had 
 been itching, there were slaps in the air. Then, she landed 
 Berthe a clout with all her might. 
 
 " Take that ! you are too aggravating ! What a fool ! On 
 my word, the men are right ! " 
 
 In the shock, her Lamartine, which she had kept under her 
 arm, fell to the floor. She picked it up, wiped it, and without 
 adding another word, she retired into the bedroom, royally 
 drawing her ball-dress around her. 
 
 " It was bound to end thus," murmured Monsieur Josserand, 
 not daring to detain his daughter, who went off also, holding 
 her cheek and crying louder than ever. 
 
 But, as Berthe felt her way across the ante-room, she found 
 her brother Saturnin up, barefooted and listening. Saturn in 
 was a big, ill-formed fellow of twenty-five, with wild-looking 
 eyes, and who had remained childish after an attack of brain- 
 fever. Without being mad, he terrified the household by at- 
 tacks of blind violence, whenever he was thwarted. Berthe, 
 alone, was able to subdue him with a look. He had nursed her 
 when she was still quite a child, through a long illness, obedient 
 as a dog to her little invalid girl's caprices ; and, ever since he 
 had saved her, he was seized with an adoration for her, into 
 which entered every kind of love. 
 
 " Has she been beating you again ? " asked he in a low and 
 ardent voice. 
 
 Berthe, uneasy at finding him there, tried to send him away. 
 
 "Go to bed, it is nothing to do with you." 
 
 "Yes, it is. I will not have her beat you! She woke me up, 
 she was shouting so. She had better not try it on again, or I 
 will strike her ! " 
 
 Then, she seized him by the wrists, and spoke to him as to a 
 disobedient animal. He submitted at once, and stuttered, cry- 
 ing like a little boy : 
 
 " It hurts you very much, does it not ? Where is the sore 
 place, that I may kiss it 1 " 
 
 And, having found her cheek in the dark, he kissed it, wetting 
 it with his tears, as he repeated : 
 
 " It is well, now, it is well, now." 
 
 Meanwhile, Monsieur Josserand, left alone, had laid down 
 his pen, his heart was so full of grief. At the end of a few 
 minutes, he got up gently to go and listen at the doors. Madame 
 Josserand was snoring. No sounds of crying issued from his
 
 44 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 daughters' room. All was dark and peaceful. Then he re- 
 turned, feeling slightly relieved. He saw to the lamp which 
 was smoking, and mechanically resumed his writing. Two big 
 tears, unfelt by him, dropped on to the wrappers, in the solemn 
 silence of the slumbering house.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 So soon as the fish was served, skate of doubtful freshness with 
 black butter, which that bungler Adele had drowned in a flood 
 of vinegar, Hortense and Berthe, seated on the right and left of 
 uncle Bachelard, incited him to drink, filling his glass one after 
 the other, and repeating : 
 
 "It's your saint's-day, drink now, drink! Here's your health, 
 uncle ! " 
 
 They had plotted together to make him give them twenty 
 francs. Every year, their provident mother placed them thus 
 on either side of her brother, abandoning him to them. But it 
 was a difficult task, and required all the greediness of two girls 
 prompted by dreams of Louis XV. shoes and five button gloves. 
 To get him to give the twenty francs, it was necessary to make 
 the uncle completely drunk. He was ferociously miserly when- 
 ever he found himself amongst his relations, though out of 
 doors he squandered in crapulous boozes the eighty thousand 
 francs he made each year out of his commission business. For- 
 tunately, that evening, he was already half fuddled when he 
 arrived, having passed the afternoon with the wife of a dyer of 
 the Faubourg Montmartre, who kept a stock of Marseilles ver- 
 mouth expressly for him. 
 
 " Your health, my little ducks ! " replied he each time, with 
 his thick husky voice, as he emptied his glass. 
 
 Covered with jewellery, a rose in his button-hole, enormous 
 in build, he filled the middle of the table, with his broad 
 shoulders of a boozing and brawling tradesman, who has wal- 
 lowed in every vice. His false teeth lit up with too harsh a 
 whiteness his ravaged face, the big red nose of which blazed be- 
 neath the snowy crest of his short cropped hair ; and, now and 
 again, his eyelids dropped of themselves over his pale and misty 
 eyes. Gueulin, the son of one of his wife's sisters, affirmed that 
 his uncle had not been sober during the ten years he had been 
 a widower.
 
 48 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 " Narcisse, a little skate, I can recommend it," said Madame 
 Josserand, smiling at her brother's tipsy condition, though at 
 heart it made her feel rather disgusted. 
 
 She was sitting opposite to him, having little Gueulin on her 
 left, and another young man on her right, Hector Trublot, to 
 whom she was desirous of showing some politeness. She usually 
 took advantage of family gatherings like the present to get rid 
 of certain invitations she had to return ; and it was thus that a 
 lady living in the house, Madame Juzeur, was also present, 
 seated next to Monsieur Josserand. As the uncle behaved very 
 badly at table, and it was the expectation of his fortune aloue 
 which enabled them to put up with him without absolute dis- 
 gust, she only had intimate acquaintances to meet him or else 
 persons whom she thought it was no longer worth while trying 
 to dazzle. For instance, she had at one time thought of find- 
 ing a son-in-law in young Trublot, who was employed at a stock- 
 broker's, whilst waiting till his father, a wealthy man, pur- 
 chased him a share in the business ; but, Trublot having pro- 
 fessed a determined objection to matrimony, she no longer stood 
 upon ceremony with him, even placing him next to Saturnin, 
 who had never known how to eat decently. Berthe, who always 
 had a seat beside her brother, was commissioned to subdue him 
 with a look, whenever he put his fingers too much into the 
 gravy. 
 
 After the fish came a meat pie, and the young ladies thought 
 the moment arrived to commence their attack. 
 
 " Take another glass, uncle ! " said Hortense. " It is your 
 saint's day. Don't you give anything when it's your saint's- 
 day?" 
 
 "Dear me ! why of course," added Berthe naively. "People 
 always give something on their saint's-day. You must give us 
 twenty francs." 
 
 On hearing them speak of money, Bachelard at once exag- 
 gerated his tipsy condition. It was his usual dodge ; his eye- 
 lids dropped, and he became quite idiotic. 
 
 " Eh? what ? " stuttered he. 
 
 " Twenty francs. You know very well what twenty francs are, 
 it is no use your pretending you don't," resumed Berthe. " Give 
 iis twenty francs, and we will love you, oh ! we will love you so 
 much ! " 
 
 They threw their arms round his neck, called him the most 
 endearing names, and kissed his inflamed face without the least 
 repugnance for the horrid odour of debatichery which he ex-
 
 PIPING HOT ! 47 
 
 haled. Monsieur Josserand, whom these continual fumes of 
 absinthe, tobacco and musk upset, had a feeling of disgust on 
 seeing his daughters' virgin charms rubbing up against those 
 infamies gathered in the vilest places. 
 
 " Leave him alone ! " cried he. 
 
 " Why ? " asked Madame Josserand, giving her husband a 
 terrible look. " They are amusing themselves. If Narcissc 
 wishes to give them twenty francs, he is quite at liberty to do 
 so." 
 
 " Monsieur Bachelard is so good to them ! " complacently 
 murmured little Madame Juzeur. 
 
 But the uncle struggled, becoming more idiotic than ever, 
 and repeating, with his mouth full of saliva : 
 
 " It's funny. I don't know, word of honour! I don't know." 
 
 Then, Hortense and Berthe, exchanging a glance, released 
 him. No doubt he had not had enough to drink. And they again 
 resorted to filling his glass, laughing like courtesans who intend 
 robbing a man. Their bare arms, of an adorable youthful 
 plumpness, kept passing every minute under the uncle's big 
 flaming nose. 
 
 Meanwhile, Trublot, like a quiet fellow who takes his plea- 
 sures alone, was watching Adele as she turned heavily round 
 the table. Being very short-sighted he thought her pretty, with 
 her pronounced Breton features and her hair the colotir of dirty 
 hemp. When she brought in the roast, a piece of veal, she 
 leant right over his shoulder, to reach the centre of the table ; 
 and he, pretending to pick up his napkin, gave her a good pinch 
 on the calf of her leg. The servant, not understanding, looked 
 at him, as though he had asked her for some bread. 
 
 " What is it ] " said Madame Josserand. " Did she knock 
 ngainst you, sir? Oh! that girl! she is so awkward! But, 
 you know, she is quite new to the work ; she will be better when 
 she has had a little training." 
 
 "No doubt, there is no harm clone," replied Trublot, strok- 
 ing his bushy black beard with the serenity of a young Indian 
 god. 
 
 The conversation was becoming more animated in the dining- 
 room, at first icy cold, and now gradually warming with the 
 fumes of the dishes. Madame Juzeur was once more confiding 
 to Monsieur Josserand the dreariness of her thirty } - ears of soli- 
 tary existence. She raised her eyes to heaven, and contented 
 herself with this discreet allusion to the drama of her life : her 
 husband had left her after ten days of married bliss, and no
 
 48 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 one knew why ; she said nothing more. Now, she lived by her- 
 self in a lodging that was as soft as down and always closed, 
 and which was frequented by priests. 
 
 " It is so sad, at my age ! " murmured she languishingly, 
 cutting up her veal with delicate gestures. 
 
 "A very unfortunate little woman," whispered Madame 
 Josserand in Trublot's ear, with an air of profound sympathy. 
 
 But Trublot glanced indifferently at this clear-eyed devotee, 
 so full of reserve and hidden meanings. She was not his style. 
 
 Then there was a regular panic. Saturnin, whom Berthe 
 was not watching so closely, being too busy with her uncle, had 
 amused himself by cutting up his meat into various designs on 
 his plate. This poor creature exasperated his mother, who was 
 both afraid and ashamed of him ; she did not know how to get 
 rid of him, not daring through pride to make a workman of 
 him, after having sacrificed him to his sisters by having re- 
 moved him from the school where his slumbering intelligence 
 was too long awakening ; and, during the years he had been 
 hanging about the house, useless and stinted, she was in a con- 
 stant state of fright whenever she had to let him appear before 
 company. Her pride suffered cruelly. 
 
 " Saturnin ! " cried she. 
 
 But Saturnin began to chuckle, delighted with the mess he 
 had made in his plate. He did not respect his mother, but 
 called her roundly a great liar and a horrid nuisance, with the 
 perspicacity of madmen who think out loud. Things certainly 
 seemed to be going wrong. He would have thrown his plate 
 at her head, if Berthe, reminded of her duties, had not looked 
 him straight in the face. He tried to resist ; then the fire in 
 his eyes died out ; he remained gloomy and depressed on his 
 chair, as though in a dream, until the end of the meal. 
 
 "I hope, Gueulin, that you have brought your flute ?" asked 
 Madame Josserand, trying to dispel her guests' uneasiness. 
 
 Gueulin was an amateur flute-player, but solely in the houses 
 where he was treated without ceremony. 
 
 " My flute ! Of course I have," replied he. 
 
 He was absent-minded, his carroty hair and whiskers were 
 more bristly than usual, as he watched with deep interest the 
 young ladies' manoeuvres around their \incle. Employed at an 
 assurance office, he would go straight to Bachelard on leaving 
 off work, and stick to him, visiting the same cafes and the same 
 disreputable places. Behind the big, ill-shaped body of the 
 one, the little pale face of the other was sure always to be seen.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 40 
 
 " Cheerily, there ! stick to him ! " said he, suddenly, like a 
 true sportsman. 
 
 The uncle was indeed losing ground. When, after the 
 vegetables, French beans swimming in water, Adele placed a 
 vanilla and currant ice on the table, it caused unexpected 
 delight amongst the guests; and the young ladies took advantage 
 of the situation to make the uncle drink half of the bottla 
 of champagne, which Madame Josserand had bought for three 
 francs of a neighbouring grocer. He was becoming quite affec-- 
 tionate, and forgetting his pretended idiocy. 
 
 " Eh, twenty francs ! Why twenty francs 1 Ah ! you want 
 twenty francs ! But I have not got them, really now. Ask 
 Gueulin. Is it not true, Gueulin, that I forgot my purse, and 
 that you had to pay at the cafe ? If I had them, my little 
 ducks, I would give them to you, you are so nice." 
 
 Gueulin was laughing in his cool way, making a noise like a 
 pulley that required greasing. And he murmured : 
 
 " The old swindler ! " 
 
 Then, suddenly, unable to restrain himself, he cried : 
 
 "Search him!" 
 
 So Hortense and Berthe again threw themselves on the uncle, 
 this time without the least restraint. The desire for the twenty 
 francs, which their good education had hitherto kept within 
 bounds, bereft them of their senses in the end, and they forgot 
 everything else. The one, with both hands, examined his waist- 
 coat pockets, whilst the other buried her fingers inside the 
 pockets of his frock-coat. The uncle, however, pressed back on 
 his chair, still struggled ; but he gradually burst out into a 
 laugh a laugh broken by drunken hiccoughs. 
 
 " On my word of honour, I haven't a sou ! Leave off, do ; 
 you're tickling me." 
 
 " In the trousers ! " energetically exclaimed Gueulin, excited 
 by the spectacle. 
 
 And Berthe resohitely searched one of the trouser pockets. 
 Their hands trembled ; they were both becoming exceedingly 
 rough, and could have smacked the uncle. But Berthe littered 
 a cry of victory : from the depths of the pocket she brought 
 forth a handful of money, which she spread out in a plate ; and 
 there, amongst a heap of coppers and pieces of silver, was a 
 twenty-franc piece. 
 
 " I have it ! " said she, her face all red, her hair undone, as 
 she tossed the coin in the air and caught it again. 
 
 There was a general clapping of hands, every one thought it 
 
 D
 
 50 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 very funny. It created quite a hubbub, and was the success of 
 the dinner. Madame Josserand looked at her daughters with a 
 mother's tender smile. The uncle, who was gathering up his 
 money, sententiously observed that, when one wanted twenty 
 francs, one should earn them. And the young ladies, worn out 
 and satisfied, were panting on his right and left, their lips still 
 trembling in the enervation of their desire. 
 
 A bell was heard to ring. They had been eating slowly, and 
 the other guests were already arriving. Monsieur Josserand, 
 who had decided to laugh like his wife, enjoyed singing some of 
 Beranger's songs at table ; but as this outraged his better half s 
 poetic tastes, she compelled him to keep quiet She got the 
 dessert over as quickly as possible, more especially as, since the 
 forced present of the twenty francs, the uncle had been trying 
 to pick a quarrel, complaining that his nephew, Le"on, had not 
 deigned to put himself out to come and wish him many 
 happy returns of the day. Le'on was only coming to the even- 
 ing party. At length, as they were rising from table, Adele 
 said that the architect from the floor below and a young man 
 were in the drawing-room. 
 
 "Ah ! yes, that young man," murmured Madame Juzeur, 
 accepting Monsieur Josserand's arm. u So you have invited 
 him ? I saw him to-day talking to the doorkeeper. He is very 
 good-looking." 
 
 Madame Josserand was taking Trublot's arm, when Saturnin, 
 who had been left by himself at the table, and who had not been 
 roused from slumbering with his eyes open by all the uproar 
 about the twenty francs, kicked back his chair, in a sudden 
 outburst of fury, shouting : 
 
 " I won't have it, damnation ! I won't have it ! " 
 
 It was the very thing his mother always dreaded. She sig- 
 nalled to Monsieur Josserand to take Madame Juzeur away. 
 Then she freed herself from Trublot, who understood, and dis- 
 appeared ; but he probably made a mistake, for he went off in 
 the direction of the kitchen, close upon Adele's heels. Bache- 
 lard and Gueulin, without troubling themselves about the 
 maniac, as they called him, chuckled in a corner, whilst play- 
 fully slapping one another. 
 
 " He was so peculiar, I felt there would be something this 
 evening," murmured Madame Josserand, uneasily. " Berthe, 
 come quick ! " 
 
 But Bertbe was showing the twenty -franc piece to Hortense. 
 Saturnin had caught up a knife. He repeated :
 
 HORTENSE AND BERTHE SEARCHING UNCLE BACHELARD'S POCKETS. 
 
 p. 50.
 
 PIPING HOT! 61 
 
 " Damnation ! I won't have it ! I'll rip their stomachs open ! " 
 
 " Berthe ! " called her mother in despair. 
 
 And, when the young girl hastened to the spot, she only just 
 had time to seize him by the hand and prevent him from entering 
 the drawing-room. She shook him angrily, whilst he tried to 
 explain, with his madman's logic. 
 
 " Let me be, I must settle them. I tell you it's best. I've 
 had enough of their dirty ways. They'll sell the whole lot of us." 
 
 " Oh ! this is too much ! " cried Berthe. " What is the mat- 
 ter with you 1 what are you talking about ? " 
 
 He looked at her in a bewildered way, trembling with a 
 gloomy rage, and stuttered : 
 
 " They're going to marry you again. Never, you hear ! I 
 won't have you hurt." 
 
 The young girl could not help laughing. Where had he got 
 the idea from that they were going to marry her ? But he 
 nodded his head : he knew it, he felt it. And as his mother 
 intervened to try and calm him, he grasped his knife so tightly 
 that she drew back. However, she trembled for fear he should 
 be overheard, and hastily told Berthe to take him away and 
 lock him in his room ; whilst he, becoming crazier than ever, 
 raised his voice : 
 
 " I won't have you married, I won't have you hurt. If they 
 marry you, I'll rip their stomachs open." 
 
 Then Berthe put her hands on his shoulders, and looked him 
 straight in the face. 
 
 " Listen," said she, " keep quiet, or I will not love you any 
 more." 
 
 He staggered, despair softened the expression of his face, his 
 eyes filled with tears. 
 
 " You won't love me any more, you won't love me any more. 
 Don't say that. Oh ! I implore you, say that yo\i will love me still, 
 say that you will love me always, and that you will never love 
 any one else." 
 
 She had seized him by the wrist, and she led him away as 
 gentle as a child. 
 
 In the drawing-room Madame Josserand, exaggerating her 
 intimacy, called Campardon her dear neighbour. Why had 
 Madame Campardon not done her the great pleasure of coming 
 also ? and on the architect replying that his wife still continued 
 poorly, she exclaimed that they would have been delighted to 
 have received her in her dressing-gown and her slippers. But 
 her smile never left Octave, who was conversing with Mon- 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
 
 62 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 sieur Josserand ; all her amiability was directed towards him, 
 over Campardon's shoulder. When her husband introduced 
 the young man to her, her cordiality was so great that the latter 
 felt quite uncomfortable. 
 
 Other guests were arriving ; stout mothers with skinny 
 daughters, fathers and uncles scarcely roused from their office 
 drowsiness, pushing before them flocks of marriageable young 
 ladies. Two lamps, with pink paper shades, lit up the drawing- 
 room with a pale light, which only faintly displayed the old, 
 worn, yellow velvet covered furniture, the scratched piano, and 
 the three smoky Swiss views, which looked like black stains on 
 the cold, bare, white and gold panels. And, in this miserly 
 light, the guests poor, and, so to say, worn-out figures, without 
 resignation, and whose attire was the cause of much pinching 
 and saving seemed to become obliterated. Madame Josserand 
 wore her fiery costume of the day before ; only, with a view of 
 throwing dust in people's eyes, she had passed the day hi sewing 
 sleeves on to the body, and in making herself a lace tippet to 
 cover her shoulders ; whilst her two daughters, seated beside 
 her in their dirty cotton jackets, vigorously plied their needles, 
 rearranging with new trimmings their only presentable dresses, 
 which they had been thus altering bit by bit ever since the pre- 
 vious winter. 
 
 After each ring at the bell, the sound of whispering issued 
 from, the ante-chamber. They conversed in low tones in the 
 gloomy drawing-room, where the forced laugh of some young 
 lady jarred at times like a false note. Behind little Madame 
 Juzeur, Bachelard and Gueulin were nudging each other, and 
 making smutty remarks ; and Madame Josserand watched them 
 with an alarmed look, for she dreaded her brother's vulgar be- 
 haviour. But Madame Juzeur might hear anything; her lips 
 quivered, and she smiled with angelic sweetness as she listened 
 to the naughty stories. Uncle Bachelard had the reputation of 
 being a dangerous man. His nephew, on the contrary, was 
 chaste. No matter how splendid the opportunities were, 
 Gueulin declined to have anything to do with women upon 
 principle, not that he disdained them, but because he dreaded 
 the morrows of bliss : always very unpleasant, he said. 
 
 Berthe at length appeared, and went hurriedly up to her 
 mother. 
 
 "Ah, well ! I have had a deal of trouble !" whispered she 
 in her ear. " He would not go to bed, so I double-locked the 
 door. But I am afraid he will break everything in the room."
 
 PIPING HOT ! 53 
 
 Madame Josserand violently tugged at her dress. Octave, 
 who was close to them, had turned his head. 
 
 " My daughter, Berthe, Monsieur Mouret," said she, in her 
 most gracious manner, as she introduced them. " Monsieur 
 Octave Mouret, my darling." 
 
 And she looked at her daughter. The latter was well 
 acquainted with this look, which was like an order to clear for 
 action, and which recalled to her the lessons of the night before. 
 She at once obeyed, with the complaisance and the indifference 
 of a girl who no longer stops to examine the person she is to 
 marry. She prettily recited her little part with the easy grace 
 of a Parisian already weary of the world, and acquainted with 
 every subject, and she talked enthusiastically of the South, 
 where she had never been. Octave, used to the stiffness of pro- 
 vincial virgins, was delighted with this little woman's cackle and 
 her sociable manner. 
 
 Presently, Trublot, who had not been seen since dinner was 
 over, entered stealthily from the dining-room ; and Berthe, 
 catching sight of him, asked thoughtlessly where he had been. 
 He remained silent, at which she felt very confused ; then, to 
 put an end to the awkward pause which ensued, she introduced 
 the two young men to each other. Her mother had not taken 
 her eyes off her ; she had assumed the attitude of a commander- 
 in-chief, and directed the campaign from the easy-chair in which 
 she had settled herself. When she judged that the first engage- 
 ment had given all the result that could have been expected 
 from it, she recalled her daughter with a sign, and said to her, 
 in a low voice : 
 
 "Wait till the Vabre's are here before commencing your 
 music. And play loud." 
 
 Octave, left alone with Trublot, began to engage him in 
 conversation. 
 
 " A charming person." 
 
 " Yes, not bad." 
 
 " The young lady in blue is her elder sister, is she not ? She 
 is not so good-looking." 
 
 " Of course not ; she is thinner ! " 
 
 Trublot, who looked without seeing with his near-sighted 
 eyes, had the broad shoulders of a solid male, obstinate in his 
 tastes. He had come back from the kitchen perfectly satisfied, 
 crunching little black things which Octave recognised with 
 surprise to be coffee berries. 
 
 " I say," asked he abruptly, " the women are plump in the 
 South, are they not 1 "
 
 64 PIPING HOT! 
 
 Octave smiled, and at once became on an excellent footing 
 with Trublot. They had many ideas in common which brought 
 them closer together. They exchanged confidences on an out- 
 of-the-way sofa ; the one talked of his employer at " The Ladies' 
 Paradise," Madame He"douin, a confoundedly fine woman, but 
 too cold ; the other said that he had been put on to the corres- 
 pondence, from nine to five, at his stockbroker's, Monsieur 
 Desmarquay, where there was a stunning maid servant. Just 
 then the drawing-room door opened, and three persons entered. 
 
 " They are the Vabres," murmured Trublot, bending over 
 towards his new friend. " Auguste, the tall one, he who has a 
 face like a sick sheep, is the landlord's eldest son thirty-three 
 years old, ever suffering from headaches which make his eyes 
 start from his head, and which, some years ago, prevented him 
 from continuing to learn Latin ; a sullen fellow who has gone in 
 for trade. The other, Theophile, that abortion with carroty hair 
 and thin beard, that little old-looking man of twenty-eight, ever 
 shaking with fits of coughing and of rage, tried a dozen different 
 trades, and then married the young woman who leads the way, 
 Madame Valerie " 
 
 " I have already seen her," interrupted Octave. " She is the 
 daughter of a haberdasher of the neighbourhood, is she not? 
 But how those veils deceive one ! I thought her pretty. She 
 is only peculiar, with her shrivelled face and her leaden com- 
 plexion." 
 
 " She is another who is not my ideal," sententiously resumed 
 Trublot. " She has superb eyes, and that is enough for some 
 men. But she's a thin piece of goods." 
 
 Madame Josserand had risen to shake Valerie's hand. 
 
 " How is it," cried she, " that Monsieur Vabre is not with you 1 
 and that neither Monsieur nor Madame Duveyrier have done us 
 the honour of coming 1 They promised us though. Ah ! it is 
 very wrong of them ! " 
 
 The young woman made excuses for her father-in-law, whose 
 age kept him at home, and who, moreover, preferred to work of 
 an evening. As for her brother and sister-in-law, they had 
 asked her to apologise for them, they having received an invita- 
 tion to an official party, which they "were obliged to attend. 
 Madame Josserand bit her lips. She never missed one of the 
 Saturdays at home of those stuck-up people on the first floor, 
 who would have thought themselves dishonoured had they 
 ascended, one Tuesday, to the fourth. No doubt her modest 
 tea was not equal to their grand orchestral concerts. But,
 
 PIPING HOT ! 55 
 
 patience ! when her two daughters were married, and she had 
 two sons-in-law and their relations to fill her drawing-room, sho 
 also would go in for choruses. 
 
 " Get yourself ready," whispered she in Berthe's ear. 
 
 They were about thirty, and rather tightly packed, for the 
 parlour, having been turned into a bedroom for the young 
 ladies, was not thrown open. The new arrivals distributed 
 handshakes round. Valerie seated herself beside Madame 
 Juzeur, whilst Bachelard and Gueulin made unpleasant remarks 
 out loud about Theophile Vabre, whom they thought it funny to 
 call " good for nothing." Monsieur Josserand who in his own 
 home kept himself so much in the background that one would 
 have taken him for a guest, and whom one would fail to find 
 when wanted, even though he were standing close by was in a 
 corner listening in a bewildered way to a story related by one 
 of his old friends, Bonnaud. He knew Bonnaud, who was for- 
 merly the general accountant of the Northern railway, and 
 whose daughter had married in the previous spring 1 Well ! 
 Bonnaud had just discovered that his son-in-law, a very respect- 
 able-looking man, was an ex-clown, who had lived for ten years 
 at the expense of a female circus-rider. 
 
 "Silence ! silence ! " murmured some good-natured voices. 
 
 Berthe had opened the piano. 
 
 " Really ! " explained Madame Josserand, " it is merely an 
 unpretentious piece, a simple reverie. Monsieur Mouret, you 
 like music, I think. Come nearer then. My daughter plays 
 pretty fairly oh ! purely as an amateur, but with expression ; 
 yes, with a great deal of expression." 
 
 "Caught ! " said Trublot in a low voice. " The sonata stroke." 
 
 Octave was obliged to leave his seat and stand up beside the 
 piano. To see the caressing attentions which Madame 
 Josserand showered upon him, it seemed as though she were 
 making Berthe play solely for him. 
 
 " ' The Banks of the Oise,' " resumed she. " It is really very 
 pretty. Come begin, my love, and do not be confused. 
 Monsieur Mouret will be indulgent." 
 
 The young girl commenced the piece without being in the 
 least confused. Besides, her mother kept her eyes upon her 
 like a sergeant ready to punish with a blow the least theoretical 
 mistake. Her great regret was that the instrument, worn-out 
 by fifteen years of daily scales, did not possess the sonorous 
 tones of the Duveyriers' grand piano ; and her daughter never 
 played loud enough in her opinion.
 
 56 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 After the sixth bar, Octave, looking thoughtful and nodding 
 his head at each spirited passage, no longer listened. He looked 
 at the audience, the politely absent-minded attention of the 
 men, and the affected delight of the women, all that relaxation 
 of persons for a moment at rest, but soon again to be harassed 
 by the cares of every hour, the shadows of which, before long, 
 would be once more reflected on their weary faces. Mothers 
 were visibly dreaming that they were marrying their daughters, 
 whilst a smile hovered about their mouths, revealing their 
 fierce-loooking teeth in their unconscious abandonment ; it was 
 the mania of this drawing-room, a furious appetite for sons-in- 
 law, which consumed these worthy middle-class mothers to the 
 asthmatic sounds of the piano. 
 
 The daughters, who were very weary, were falling asleep, with 
 their heads dropping on to their shoulders, forgetting to sit up 
 erect. Octave, who had a certain contempt for young ladies, 
 was more interested in Valerie she looked decidedly ugly in her 
 peculiar yellow silk dress, trimmed with black satin and feeling 
 ill at ease, yet attracted all the same, his gaze kept returning 
 to her ; whilst she, with a vague look in her eyes, and unnerved 
 by the discordant music, was smiling like a crazy person. 
 
 At this moment quite a catastrophe occurred. A ring at the 
 bell was heard, and a gentleman entered the room without the 
 least regard for what was taking place. 
 
 " Oh ! doctor ! " said Madame Josserand angrily. 
 
 Doctor Juillerat made a gesture of apology, and stood stock- 
 still. Berthe, at this moment, was executing a little passage 
 with a slow and dreamy fingering, which the guests greeted with 
 flattering murmurs. Ah ! delightful ! delicious ! Madame 
 Juzeur was almost swooning away, as though being tickled. 
 Hortense, who was standing beside her sister, turning the pages, 
 was sulkily listening for a ring at the bell amidst the avalanche 
 of notes ; and, when the doctor entered, she made such a gesture 
 of disappointment that she tore one of the pages on the stand. 
 But, suddenly, the piano trembled beneath Berthe's weak 
 fingers, thrumming away like hammers ; it was the end of the 
 reverie, amidst a deafening uproar of clangorous chords. 
 
 There was a moment of hesitation. The audience was waking 
 up again. Was it finished? Then the compliments burst out 
 on all sides. Adorable ! a superior talent ! 
 
 "Mademoiselle is really a first-rate musician," said Octave, 
 interrupted in his observations. " No one has ever given ni3 
 such pleasure."
 
 PIPING HOT ! 57 
 
 " Do you really mean it, sir ?" exclaimed Madame Josserand 
 delighted. " She does not play badly, I must admit. Well ! 
 we have never refused the child anything ; she is our treasure ! 
 She possesses every talent she wished for. Ah ! sir, if you only 
 knew her." 
 
 A confused murmur of voices again filled the drawing-room. 
 Berthe very calmly received the praise showered upon her, and 
 did not leave the piano, but sat waiting till her mother relieved 
 her from fatigue-duty. The latter was already speaking to 
 Octave of the surprising manner in which her daughter dashed 
 off " The Harvesters," a brilliant gallop, when some dull and 
 distant thuds created a stir amongst the guests. For several 
 moments past there had been violent shocks, as though some 
 one was trying to burst a door open. Everybody left off talk- 
 ing, and looked about inquiringly. 
 
 " What is it ? " Valerie ventured to ask. " I heard it before, 
 during the finish of the piece." 
 
 Madame Josserand had turned .quite pale. She had recog- 
 nised Saturnin's blows. Ah ! the wretched lunatic ! and in her 
 mind's eye she beheld him tumbling in amongst the guests. 
 If he continued hammering like that, it would be another 
 marriage done for ! 
 
 " It is the kitchen door slamming," said she with a constrained 
 smile. " Adele never will shut it. Go and see, Berthe." 
 
 The young girl had also understood. She rose and dis- 
 appeared. The noise ceased at once, but she did not return 
 immediately. Uncle Bachelard, who had scandalously dis- 
 turbed " The Banks of the Oise " with reflections uttered out 
 loud, finished putting his sister out of countenance by calling to 
 Gueulin that he felt awfully bored and was going to have a grog. 
 They both returned to the dining-room, banging the door behind 
 them. 
 
 " That dear old Narcisse, he is always original ! " said Madame 
 Josserand to Madame Juzeur and Valerie, between whom sho 
 had gone and seated herself. " His business occupies him so 
 much ! You know, he has made almost a hundred thousand 
 francs this year ! " 
 
 Octave, at length free, had hastened to rejoin Trublot, who 
 was half asleep on the sofa. Near them, a group surrounded 
 Doctor Juillerat, the old medical man of the neighbourhood, 
 not over brilliant, but who had become in course of time a good 
 practitioner, and who had delivered all the mothers in their 
 confinements and had attended all the daughters. He made a
 
 58 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 speciality of women's ailments, which caused him to be in great 
 demand of an evening, the husbands all trying to obtain a 
 gratuitous consultation in some corner ot the drawing-room. 
 Just then, Theophile was telling him that Valerie had had 
 another attack the day before; she was for ever having a 
 choking fit and complaining of a lump rising in her throat ; and 
 he, too, was not very well, but his complaint was not the same. 
 Then he did nothing but speak of himself, and relate his vexa- 
 tions : he had commenced to read for the law, had engaged iu 
 manufactures at a foundry, and had tried omce management at 
 the Mont-de-Pie"te ; then he had busied himself with photo- 
 graphy, and thought he had found a means of making vehicles 
 supply their own motive power; meanwhile, out of kindness, he 
 was travelling some piano-flutes, an invention of one of his 
 friends. And he complained of his wife : it was her fault if 
 nothing went right at home ; she was killing him with her per- 
 petual nervous attacks. 
 
 " Do pray give her something, doctor ! " implored he, cough- 
 ing and moaning, his eyes lit up with hatred, in the querulous 
 rage of his impotency. 
 
 Trublot watched him, full of contempt; and he laughed 
 silently as he glanced at Octave. Doctor Juillerat uttered 
 vague and calming words : no doubt, they would relieve her, 
 the dear lady. At fourteen, she was already stifling, in the 
 shop of the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin ; he had attended her 
 for vertigo which always ended by bleeding at the nose ; and, 
 as Theophile recalled with despair her languid gentleness when 
 a young girl, whilst now, fantastic and her temper changing 
 twenty times in a day, she absolutely tortured him, the doctor 
 merely shook his head. Marriage did not succeed with all 
 women. 
 
 " Of course ! " murmured Trublot, " a father who has gone 
 off his chump by passing thirty years of his life in selling 
 needles and thread, a mother who has always had her face 
 covered with pimples, and that in an airless hole of old Paris, 
 no one can expect such people to have daughters like other 
 folks ! " 
 
 Octave was surprised. He was losing some of his respect for 
 that drawing-room which he had entered with a provincial's 
 emotion. Curiosity was awakened within him, when he ob- 
 served Campardon consulting the doctor in his turn, but in 
 whispers, like a sedate person desirous of letting no one be- 
 come acquainted with his family mishaps.
 
 PIPING HOT ! B9 
 
 " By the way, as you appear to know everything," said 
 Octave to Trublot, " tell me what it is that Madame Campar- 
 don is suffering from. Every one puts on a very sad face when- 
 ever it is mentioned." 
 
 "Why, my dear fellow," replied the young man, "she has " 
 
 And he whispered in Octave's ear. Whilst he listened, the 
 latter's face first assumed a smile, and then became very long 
 with a look of profound astonishment. 
 
 "It is not possible ! " said he. 
 
 Then, Trublot gave his word of honour. He knew another 
 lady in the same state. 
 
 " Besides," resumed he, " it sometimes happens after a con- 
 finement that " 
 
 And he began to whisper again. Octave, convinced, became 
 quite sad. He who had fancied all sorts of things, who had 
 imagined quite a romance, the architect occupied elsewhere 
 and drawing him towards his wife to amuse her ! In any case 
 he now knew that she was well guarded. The young men 
 pressed up against each other, in the excitement caused by 
 these feminine secrets which they were stirring up, forgetting 
 that they might be overheard. 
 
 Madame Juzeuv was just then confiding to Madame Josser- 
 and her impressions of Octave. She thought him very be- 
 coming, no doubt, but she preferred Monsieur Auguste Vabre 
 The latter, standing up in a corner of the drawing-room, re- 
 mained silent, in his insignificance and with his usual evening 
 headache. 
 
 "What surprises me, dear madame, is that you have not 
 thought of him for your Berthe. A young man set up in 
 business, who is prudence itself. And he is in want of a wife, 
 I kuow that he is desirous of getting married." 
 
 Madame Josserand listened, surprised. She would never 
 herself have thought of the linendraper. Madame Juzeur, 
 however, insisted, for in her misfortune, she had the mania of 
 working for the happiness of other women, which caused her to 
 busy herself with everything relating to the tender passions of 
 the house. She affirmed that Auguste never took his eyes oft* 
 Berthe. In short, she invoked her experience of men : Mon- 
 sieur Mouret would never let himself be caught, whilst that 
 good Monsieur Vabre would be very easy and very advan- 
 tageous. But Madame Josserand, weighing the latter with a 
 glance, came decidedly to the conclusion that such a son-in-law 
 would not be of much use in filling her drawing-room.
 
 60 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 " My daughter detests him," said she, " and I would never 
 oppose the dictates of her heart." 
 
 A tall thin young lady had just played a fantasia on the 
 " Dame Blanche." As uncle Bachelard had fallen asleep in 
 the dining-room, Gueulin reappeared and imitated the 
 nightingale on his flute. No one listened, however, for the 
 story about Bonnaud had spread. Monsieur Josserand was 
 quite upset, the fathers held up their arms, the mothers were 
 stifling. What ! Bonnaud's son-in-law was a clown ! Then 
 who could one believe in now ? and the parents, in their appe- 
 tites for marriages, suffered regular nightmares, like so many 
 distinguished convicts in evening dress. The fact was, that 
 Bonnaud had been so delighted at the opportunity of getting 
 rid of his daughter that he had not troubled much about re- 
 ferences, in spite of his rigid prudence of an over-scrupulous 
 general accountant. 
 
 " Mamma, the tea is served," said Berthe, as she and Adele 
 opened the folding doors. 
 
 And, whilst the company passed slowly into the dining-room, 
 she went up to her mother and murmured : 
 
 " I have had enough of it ! He wants me to stay and tell 
 him stories, or he threatens to smash everything ! " 
 
 On a grey cloth which was too narrow, was served one of 
 those teas laboriously got together, a cake bought at a neigh- 
 bouring baker's, with some mixed sweet biscuits, and some 
 sandwiches on either side. At either end of the table quite a 
 luxury of flowers, superb and costly roses, withdrew attention 
 from the ancient dust on the biscuits, and the poor quality 
 of the butter. The sight caused a commotion, and jealousies 
 were kindled : really those Josserands were ruining themselves 
 in trying to marry off their daughters. And the guests, having 
 but poorly dined, and only thinking of going to bed with 
 their bellies full, casting side glances at the bouquets, gorged 
 themselves with weak tea and imprudently devoured the hard 
 stale biscuits and the heavy cake. For those persons who did 
 not like tea, Adele handed round some glasses of red currant 
 syrup. It was pronounced excellent. 
 
 Meanwhile, the uncle was asleep in a corner. They did not 
 wake him, they even politely pretended not to see him. A 
 lady talked of the fatigues of business. Berthe went from one 
 to another, offering sandwiches, handing cups of tea, and asking 
 the men if they would like any more sugar. But she was un- 
 able to attend to every one, and Madame Josserand was looking
 
 TRUBLOT PINCHING ADELE AT THE JOSSERANDS' PARTY. 
 
 p. 61-
 
 PIPING HOT ! 61 
 
 for her daughter Hortense, when she caught sight of her 
 standing in the middle of the deserted drawing-room, talking 
 to a gentleman, of whom one could only see the back. 
 
 " Ah ! yes ! he has come at last," she permitted, in her anger, 
 to escape her. 
 
 There was some whispering. It was that Verdier, who had 
 been living with a woman for fifteen years past, whilst waiting 
 to marry Hortense. Every one knew the story, the young 
 ladies exchanged glances ; but they bit their lips, and avoided 
 speaking of it, out of propriety. Octave, being made ac- 
 quainted with it, examined the gentleman's back with interest. 
 Trublot knew the mistress, a good girl, a reformed street- 
 walker, who was better now, said he, than the best of wives, 
 taking care of her man, and looking after his clothes ; and he 
 was full of a fraternal sympathy for her. Whilst they were 
 being watched from the dining-room, Hortense was scolding 
 Verdier with all the sulkiness of a badly brought up virgin for 
 having come so late. 
 
 " Hallo ! red currant syrup ! " said Trublot, seeing Adele 
 standing before him, a tray in her hand. 
 
 He sniffed it and declined. But, as the servant turned 
 round, a stout lady's elbow pushed her against him, and he 
 pinched her back. She smiled, and returned to him with the tray. 
 
 " No, thanks," said he. " By-and-by." 
 
 Women were seated round the table, whilst the men were 
 eating, standing up behind them. Exclamations were, heard, 
 an enthusiasm, which died away as the mouths were filled with 
 food. The gentlemen were appealed to. Madame Josserand cried: 
 
 " Ah ! yes, I was forgetting. Come and look, Monsieur 
 Mouret, you who love the arts." 
 
 " Take care, the water-colour stroke ! " murmured Trublot, 
 who knew the house. 
 
 It was better than a water-colonr. As though by chance, a 
 porcelain bowl was standing on the table ; right at the very 
 bottom of it, surrounded by the brand new varnished bronze 
 mounting, Greuze's " Young girl with the broken Pitcher" 
 was painted in light colours, passing from pale lilac to faint 
 blue. Berthe smiled in the midst of the praise. 
 
 " Mademoiselle possesses every talent," said Octave with his 
 good-natured grace. " Oh ! the colours are so well blended, 
 and it is very accurate, very .accurate ! " 
 
 " I can guarantee that the design is ! " resumed Madame 
 Josserand, triumphantly. " There is not a hair too many or
 
 62 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 few. Berthe copied it here, from an engraving. There are 
 really such a number of nude subjects at the Louvre, and the 
 people there are at times so mixed ! " 
 
 She had lowered her voice when giving this last piece of in- 
 formation, desirous of letting the young man know that, though 
 her daughter was an artist, she did not let that carry her be- 
 yond the limits of propriety. She probably, however, thought 
 Octave rather cold, she felt that the bowl had not met with 
 the success she had anticipated, and she watched him with an 
 anxious look, whilst Valerie and Madame Juzeur, who were 
 drinking their fourth cup of tea, examined the painting and 
 gave vent to little cries of admiration. 
 
 " You are looking at her again," said Trublot to Octave, on 
 seeing him with his eyes fixed on Valerie. 
 
 " Why, yes," replied he, slightly confused. " It is funny, 
 she looks pretty just at this moment. A warm woman, 
 evidently. I say, do you think one might venture 1 " 
 
 " Warm, one never knows. It is a peculiar fancy ! Any- 
 how, it would be better than marrying the girl." 
 
 " What girl 1 " exclaimed Octave, forgetting himself. 
 " What ! you think I am going to let myself be hooked ' 
 Never ! My dear fellow, we don't marry at Marseilles ! " 
 
 Madame Josserand had drawn near. The words came upon 
 her like a stab in the heart. Another fruitless campaign, 
 another evening party wasted ! The blow was such, that she 
 was obliged to lean against a chair, as she looked with despair 
 at the now despoiled table, where all that remained was a burnt 
 piece of the cake. She had given up counting her defeats, but 
 this one should be the last ; she took a frightful oath, swearing 
 that she would no longer feed persons who came to see her 
 solely to gorge. And, upset and exasperated, she glanced 
 round the dining-room, seeking into what man's arms she could 
 throw her daughter, when she caught sight of Auguste resignedly 
 standing against the wall and not having partaken of anything. 
 
 Just then, Berthe, with a smile on her face, was moving to- 
 wards Octave, with a cup of tea in her hand. She was con- 
 tinuing the campaign, obedient to her mother's wishes. But 
 the latter caught her by the arm and called her a silly fool 
 under her breath. 
 
 " Take that cup to Monsieur Vabre, who has been waiting 
 for an hour past," said she, graciously and very loud. 
 
 Then, whispering again in her daughter's ear, and giving 
 her another of her warlike looks, she added :
 
 PIPING HOT ! 68 
 
 " Be amiable, or you will have me to deal with ! " 
 
 Berthe, for a moment put out of countenance, soon recovered 
 herself. It often changed thus three times in an evening. 
 She carried the cup to Auguste, with the smile which she had 
 commenced for Octave ; she was amiable, talked of Lyons silks, 
 and did the engaging young person who would look very well 
 behind a counter. Auguste's hands trembled a little, and he 
 was very red, as he was suffering a good deal from his head 
 that evening. 
 
 Out of politeness, a few persons returned and sat down for 
 some moments in the drawing-room. Having fed, they were 
 all going off. When they looked for Verdier, he had already 
 taken his departure; and some young ladies, greatly put out, 
 only carried away an indistinct view of his back. Campardon, 
 without waiting for Octave, retired with the doctor, whom he 
 detained on the landing, to ask him if there was really no 
 more hope. During the tea, one of the lamps had gone out, 
 emitting a stench of rancid oil, and the other lamp, the wick of 
 which was all charred, lit up the room with so poor a light, 
 that the Vabres themselves rose to leave in spite of the atten- 
 tions with which Madame Josserand overwhelmed them. 
 Octave had preceded them into the ante-room, where he had a 
 surprise : Trublot, who was looking for his hat, suddenly dis- 
 appeared. He could only have gone off by the passage leading 
 to the kitchen. 
 
 " Well ! wherever has he got to ? does he leave by the 
 servants' staircase ? " murmured the young man. 
 
 But he did not seek to clear up the mystery. Vale'rie was 
 there, looking for a lace neckerchief. The two brothers, Thdo- 
 phile and Auguste, were going downstairs, without troubling 
 themselves about her. Octave, having found the neckerchief, 
 handed it to her, with the air of admiration he put on when 
 serving the pretty lady customers of " The Ladies' Paradise." 
 She looked at him, and he felt certain that her eyes, on fixing 
 themselves on his, had flashed forth flames. 
 
 " You are too kind, sir," said she, simply. 
 
 Madame Juzeur, who was the last to leave, enveloped them 
 both in a tender and discreet smile. And when Octave, 
 highly excited, had reached his cold chamber, he looked at 
 himself for an instant in the glass, and he thought it worth 
 while to make the attempt ! 
 
 Meanwhile, Madame Josserand was wandering about the 
 deserted room, without saying a word, and as though carried
 
 W PIPING HOT ! 
 
 away by some gale of wind. She had violently closed the piano 
 and turned out the last lamp ; then, passing into the dining- 
 room, she began to blow out the candles so vigorously that the 
 chandelier quite shook. The sight of the despoiled table 
 covered with dirty plates and empty cups, increased her rage ; 
 and she turned round it, casting terrible glances at her 
 daughter Hortense, who, quietly sitting down, was devouring 
 the piece of burnt cake. 
 
 " You are putting yourself in a fine state again, mamma," 
 said the latter. " Is it not going on all right, then ? For myself, 
 I am satisfied. He is purchasing some chemises for her to 
 enable her to leave." 
 
 The mother shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 "Eh 1 ? you say that this proves nothing. Very good, only 
 steer your ship as well as I steer mine. Here now is a cake 
 which may flatter itself it is a precious bad one ! They must 
 be a wretched lot to swallow such stuff." 
 
 Monsieur Josserand, who was always worn out by his wife's 
 parties, was reposing on a chair ; but he was in dread of an 
 encounter, he feared that Madame Josserand might drive him 
 before her in her furious promenade ; and he drew close to 
 Bachelard and Gueulin, who were seated at the table in front 
 of Hortense. The \incle, on awaking, had discovered a decanter 
 of rum. He was emptying it, and bitterly alluding to the 
 twenty francs. 
 
 " It is not for the money," he kept repeating to his nephew, 
 " it is the way the thing was done. You know how I behave 
 to women : I would give them the shirt off my back, but I do 
 not like them to ask me for anything. The moment they 
 begin to ask, it annoys me, and I don't even chuck them a 
 radish." 
 
 And, as his sister was about to remind him of his promises : 
 
 "Be quiet, Eleonore ! I know what I have to do for the 
 child. But, you see, when a woman asks, it is more than I 
 can stand. I have never been able to keep friends with one, 
 have I now, Gueulin 1 And besides, there is really such little 
 respect shown me ! Leon has not even deigned to wish me 
 many happy returns of the day." 
 
 Madame Josserand resumed her walk, clinching her fists. It 
 was true, there was Leon too, who promised and then disap- 
 pointed her like the others. There was one who would not 
 sacrifice an evening to help to marry off his sisters ! She had 
 just discovered a sweet biscuit, fallen behind one of the flower
 
 PIPING HOT ! 65 
 
 vases, and was locking it up in a drawer when Berthe, who had 
 gone to release Saturnin, brought him back with her. She was 
 quieting him, whilst he, haggard and with a mistrustful look 
 in his eyes, was searching the corners, with the feverish excite- 
 ment of a dog that has been long shut up. 
 
 " How stupid he is ! " said Berthe, " he thinks that I have 
 just been married. And he is seeking for the husband ! Ah ! 
 my poor Saturnin, you may seek. I tell you that it has come 
 to nothing ! You know very well that it never comes to any- 
 thing." 
 
 Then, Madame Josserand's rage burst all bounds. 
 
 " Ah ! I swear to you that it sha'n't come to nothing next 
 time, even if I have to tie him to you myself! There is one 
 who shall pay for all the others. Yes, yes, Monsieur Josserand, 
 you may stare at me, as though you did not understand : the 
 wedding shall take place, and without you, if it does not please 
 you. You hear, Berthe ? you have only to pick that one up ! " 
 
 Saturnin appeared not to hear. He was looking under the 
 table. The young girl pointed to him ; but Madame Josserand 
 made a gesture which seemed to imply that he would be got 
 out of /he way. And Berthe murmured : 
 
 " So then it is decidedly to be Monsieur Vabre ? Oh ! it is 
 all the same to me. To think though that not a single sand- 
 wich has been saved for mo I "
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 4.S early as the morrow, Octave commenced to occupy himself 
 about Valerie. He studied her habits, and ascertained the 
 hour when he would have a chance of meeting her on the stairs ; 
 and he arranged matters so that he could frequently go up to 
 his room, taking advantage of his coming home to lunch at the 
 Campardons', and leaving "The Ladies' Paradise" for a few 
 minutes under some pretext or other. He soon noticed that, 
 every day towards two o'clock, the young woman, who took her 
 child to the Tuileries gardens, passed along the Rue Gaillon. 
 Then he would stand at the door, wait till she came, and greet 
 her with one of his handsome shopman's smiles. At each of 
 their meetings, Valerie politely inclined her head and passed 
 on ; but he perceived her dark glance to be full of passionate 
 fire ; he found encouragement in her ravaged complexion and 
 in the supple swing of her gait. 
 
 His plan was already formed, the bold plan of a seducer used 
 to cavalierly overcoming the virtue of shop-girls. It was simply 
 a question of luring Valerie inside his room on the fourth floor ; 
 the staircase was always silent and deserted, no one would dis- 
 cover them up there ; and he laughed at the thought of the 
 architect's moral admonitions ; for taking a woman belonging 
 to the house was not the same as bringing one into it. 
 
 One thing, however, made Octave uneasy. The passage 
 separated the Pichons' kitchen from their dining-room, and this 
 obliged them to constantly have their door open. At nine 
 o'clock in the morning, the husband started off for his office, 
 and did not return home until about five in the evening ; and, 
 en alternate days of the week, he went out again after his 
 dinner to do some bookkeeping, from eight to midnight. Be- 
 sides this, though, the young woman, who was very reserved 
 almost wildly timid would push her door to, directly she 
 heard Octave's footsteps. He never caught sight of more than 
 her back, which always seemed to be flying away, with her light 
 hair d one up into a scanty chignon. Through that door kept
 
 PIPING HOT ! fi? 
 
 discreetly ajar, he had, up till then, only beheld a small portion 
 of the room : sad and clean looking furniture, linen of a dull 
 whiteness in the grey light admitted through a window which 
 he could not see, and the corner of a child's crib inside an inner 
 room; all the monotonous solitude of a wife occupied from 
 morning to night with the recurring cares of a clerk's home. 
 Moreover, there was never a sound ; the child seemed dumb 
 and worn-out like the mother ; one scarcely distinguished at 
 times the soft murmur of some ballad which the latter would 
 hum for hours together in an expiring voice. But Octave was 
 none the less furious with the disdainful creature as he called 
 her. She was playing the spy upon him perhaps. In any 
 case, Vale'rie could never come up to him if the Pichons' door 
 was thus being continually opened. 
 
 He was just beginning to think that things were taking the 
 right course. One Sunday when the husband was absent, he 
 had manoeuvred in such a way as to be on the first-floor land- 
 ing at the moment the young woman, wrapped in her dressing- 
 gown, was leaving her sister-in-law's to return to her own 
 apartments ; and she being obliged to speak to him, they had 
 stood some minutes exchanging polite remarks. So he was 
 hoping that next time she would ask him in. With a woman 
 with such a temperament the rest would follow as a matter of 
 course. That evening during dinner, there was some talk 
 about Valerie at the Campardons'. Octave tried to draw the 
 others out. But as Angele was listening and casting sly 
 glances at Lisa, who was handing round some leg of mutton 
 and looking very serious, the parents .at first did nothing but 
 sing the young woman's praises. Moreover, the architect al- 
 ways stood up for the respectability of the house, with the vain 
 conviction of a tenant who seemed to obtain from it a regular 
 certificate of his own gentility. 
 
 "Oh ! my dear fellow, most respectable people. You saw 
 them at the Josserands'. The husband is no fool ; he is full of 
 ideas, he will end by discovering something very grand. As 
 for the wife, she has some style about her, as we artists 
 say." 
 
 Madame Campardon, who had been rather worse since the 
 day before, and who was half reclining, though her :llness did 
 not prevent her eating thick underdone slices of meat, lan- 
 guidly murmured in her turn : 
 
 " That poor Monsieur Theophile, he is like me, he dr\igs along. 
 Ah ! great praise is due to Valerie, for it is not lively always
 
 68 ttfING fiOf! 
 
 having by one a man trembling with fever, and whose infirmity 
 usually makes him quarrelsome and unjust." 
 
 During dessert, Octave, seated between the architect and his 
 wife, learnt more than he asked. They forgot Angele, they 
 spoke in hints, with glances which underlined the double 
 meanings of the words ; and, when they were at a loss for an 
 expression, they bent towards him one after the other, and 
 coarsely whispered the rest of the disclosure in his ear. In 
 short, that Theophile was a stupid and impotent person, who 
 deserved to be what his wife made him. As for Valerie, she 
 was not worth much, she would have behaved just as badly 
 even if her husband had been different, for with her, nature 
 had so much the mastery. Moreover, no one was ignorant of 
 the fact that, two months after her marriage, in despair at re- 
 cognising that she would never have a child by her husband, 
 and fearing she would lose her share of old Vabre's fortune if 
 Thdophile happened to die, she had her little Camille got for 
 her by a butcher's man of the Hue Saiute-Anne. 
 
 Campardon bent down and whispered a last time in Octave's 
 ear : 
 
 " Well ! you know, my dear fellow, a hysterical woman ! " 
 
 And he put into the word all the middle-class wantonness of 
 an indelicacy combined with the blobber-lipped smile of a 
 father of a family whose imagination, abruptly let loose, revels 
 in licentiousness. The conversation then took a different turn, 
 they were speaking of the Pichons, and words of praise were not 
 stinted. 
 
 " Oh ! they are indeed worthy people ! " repeated Madame 
 Campardon. " Sometimes, when Marie takes her little Lilitte 
 out, I also let her take Angele. And I assure you, Monsieur 
 Mouret, I do not trust my daughter to everyone ; I must be 
 absolutely certain of the person's morality. You love Marie 
 very much, do you not, Angele 1 " 
 
 " Yes, mamma," answered the child. 
 
 The details continued. It was impossible to find a woman 
 better brought up, or according to severer principles. And it 
 was a pleasure to see how happy the husband was ! Such a 
 nice little home, and so clean, and a couple that adored each 
 other, who never said one word louder than another ! 
 
 " Besides, they would not be allowed to remain in the house, 
 if they did not behave themselves properly," said the architect 
 gravely, forgetting his disclosures about Valerie. "We will 
 only havt respectable people here. On my word of honour ! I
 
 PIPING HOT ! 69 
 
 would give notice, the day that my daughter ran the risk of 
 meeting disreputable women on the stairs." 
 
 That evening, he had secretly arranged to take cousin 
 Gasparine to the Opera-Comique. He therefore went and 
 fetched his hat at once, talking of a business matter which 
 would keep him out till very late. Rose though probably 
 knew of the arrangement, for Octave heard her murmur, in her 
 resigned and maternal voice, when her husband came to kiss 
 her with his habitual effusive tenderness : 
 
 " Amuse yourself well, and do not catch cold on coming out." 
 
 On the morrow, Octave had an idea : it was to become ac- 
 quainted with Madame Pichon, by rendering her a few 
 neighbourly services ; in this way, if she ever caught Valerie, 
 she would keep her eyes shut. And an opportunity occurred 
 that very day. Madame Pichon was in the habit of taking 
 Lilitte, then eighteen months old, out in a little basket-work 
 perambulator, which raised Monsieur Gourd's ire ; the door- 
 keeper would never permit it to be carried up the principal 
 staircase, so that she had to take it up the servants' ; and as 
 the door of her apartment was too narrow, she had to remove 
 the wheels every time, which was quite a job. It so happened 
 that that day Octave was returning home, just as his neigh- 
 bour, incommoded by her gloves, was giving herself a great 
 deal of trouble to get the nuts off. When she felt him stand- 
 ing up behind her, waiting till the passage was cleat*, she quite 
 lost her head, and her hands trembled. 
 
 " But, madame, why do you take all that trouble ? " asked 
 he at length. " It would be far simpler to put the perambul- 
 ator at the end of the passage, behind my door." 
 
 She did not reply, her excessive timidity kept her squatting 
 there, without strength to rise ; and, beneath the curtain of 
 her bonnet, he beheld a hot blush invade the nape of her neck 
 and her ears. Then he insisted : 
 
 " I assure you, madame, it will not inconvenience me in the 
 least." 
 
 Without waiting, he lifted up the perambulator and carried 
 it in his easy way. She was obliged to follow him ; but she 
 remained so confused, so frightened by this important adventure 
 in her uneventful every-day life, that she looked on, only able 
 to stutter fragments of sentences. 
 
 " Dear me ! sir, it is too much trouble I feel quite ashamed 
 you will find it very awkward. My husband will be very 
 pleased "
 
 70 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 And she entered her room and locked herself in, this time 
 hermetically, with a sort of shame. Octave thought that she 
 was stupid. The perambulator was a great deal in his way for 
 /t prevented him opening his door wide, and he had to slip into 
 his room sideways. But his neighbour seemed to be won over, 
 more especially as Monsieur Gourd consented to authorize the 
 obstruction at that end of the passage, thanks to Campardon's 
 influence. 
 
 Every Sunday, Marie's parents, Monsieur and Madame Vuil- 
 laume, came to spend the day. On the Sunday following, as 
 Octave was going out, he beheld all the family seated taking 
 their coffee, and he was discreetly hastening by, when the young 
 woman, whispering quickly in her husband's ear, the latter 
 jumped up, saying : 
 
 " Excuse me, sir, I am always out, I have not yet had an 
 opportunity of thanking you. But I wish to tell you how 
 pleased I was " 
 
 Octave protested. At length he was obliged to give in. 
 Though he had already had his coffee, they made him accept 
 another cup. They gave him the place of honour, between 
 Monsieur and Madame Vuillaume. Opposite to him, on the 
 other side of the round table, Marie was again thrown into one 
 of those confused conditions which at any mimite, without ap 
 pareut cause, brought all the blood from her heart to her face. 
 He watched her, never having seen her at his ease. But, as 
 Trublot said, she was not his fancy : she seemed to him wretched 
 and washed out, with her flat face and her thin hair, though 
 her features were refined and pretty. When she recovered her- 
 self a little, she laughed lightly as she again talked of the 
 perambulator, about which she found a great deal to say. 
 
 " Jules, if you had only seen Monsieur Mouret carry it in his 
 arms. Ah well ! it did not take long ! " 
 
 Pichon again uttered his thanks. He was tall and thin, with 
 a doleful look about him, already subdued to the routine of 
 office life, his dull eyes full of the apathetic resignation dis- 
 played by circus horses. 
 
 " Pray say no more about it ! " Octave ended by observing, 
 " it is really not worth while. Madame, your coffee is exquisite. 
 I have never drunk any like it." 
 
 She blushed again, and so much that her hands even became 
 quite rosy. 
 
 " Do not spoil her, sir," said Monsieur Vuillaume gravely
 
 PIPING HOT ! 71 
 
 " Her coffee is good, but there is bettor. And you see how 
 proud she has become at once ! " 
 
 "Pride is worth nothing," declared Maiame Vuillaume. 
 " We have always taught her to be modest." 
 
 They were both of them little and dried up, very old, and 
 with dark-looking countenances ; the wife wore a tight black 
 dress, and the husband a thin frock-coat, on which only the 
 mark of a big red ribbon was to be seen. 
 
 " Sir," resumed the latter, "I was decorated at the age of 
 sixty, on the day I was pensioned off, after having been for 
 thirty-nine years employed at the Ministry of Public Instruction. 
 Well ! sir, on that day I dined the same as on other days, and 
 did not let pride interfere with any of my habits. The Cross 
 was due to me, I knew it. I was simply filled with gratitude." 
 
 His life was perfectly clear, he wished every one to know it. 
 After twenty-five years' service, he had been promoted to four 
 thousand francs. His pension, therefore, was two thousand. 
 But he had had to re-engage himself in a subordinate position 
 at fifteen hundred francs, as they had had their little Marie 
 late in life when Madame Vuillaume was no longer expecting 
 either son or daughter. Now that the child was established in 
 life, they were living on the pension, by pinching themselves, 
 in the Rue Durantin at Moutmartre, where things were cheaper. 
 
 " I am sixty-three," said he, in conclusion, " and that is all 
 about it, and that is all about it, son-in-law ! " 
 
 Pichon looked at him in a silent and weary way, his eyes fixed 
 on his red ribbon. Yes, it would be his own story if luck favoured 
 him. He was the last born of a greengrocer who had spent 
 the entire worth of her shop in her anxiety to make her son take 
 a degree, just because all the neighbourhood said he was very 
 intelligent ; and she had died bankrupt eight days before his 
 triumph at the Sorbonne. After three years of hardships at 
 his uncle's, he had had the unexpected luck of getting a berth 
 at the Ministry, which was to lead him to everything, and on 
 the strength of which he had already married. 
 
 " When one does one's duty, the government does the same," 
 murmured he, mechanically reckoning that he still had thirty- 
 six years to wait before obtaining the right to wear a piece of 
 red ribbon and to enjoy a pension of two thousand francs. 
 
 Then he turned towards Octave. 
 
 " You see, sir, it is the children who are such a heavy weight." 
 
 " No doubt," said Madame Vuillaume. " If we had had 
 another we should never have made both ends meet. There-
 
 72 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 fore, remember, Jules, what I insisted upon when I gave you 
 Marie : one child and no more, or else we shall quarrel ! It is 
 only workpeople who have children like fowls lay eggs, without 
 troubling themselves as to what it will cost them. It is true 
 that they turn the youngsters out on to the streets, like flocks of 
 animals, which make me feel sick when I pass by." 
 
 Octave had looked at Marie, thinking that this delicate sub- 
 ject would make her cheeks crimson ; but she remained pale, 
 approving her mother's words with ingenuous serenity. He 
 was feeling awfully bored, and did not know how to retire. In the 
 little cold dining-room these people thus spent their afternoon, 
 slowly muttering a few words every five minutes, and always 
 about their own affairs. Even dominoes disturbed them too 
 much. 
 
 Madame Vuillaume now explained her notions. At the end of 
 a long silence, which left all four of them in no way embarrassed 
 as though they had felt the necessity of rearranging their ideas, 
 she resumed : 
 
 "You have no child, sir? It will come in time. Ah ! it is 
 a responsibility, especially for a mother ! When my little one 
 was born I was forty-nine, sir, an age when luckily one knows 
 how to behave. A boy will get on anyhow, but a girl ! And 
 I have the consolation of knowing that I have done my duty, 
 oh, yes ! " 
 
 Then, she explained her plan of education, in short sentences. 
 Honesty first. No playing on the stairs, the little one always 
 kept at home and watched closely, for childron think of nothing 
 but evil. The doors and windows shut, never any draughts, 
 which bring the wicked things of the street with them. Out of 
 doors, never leave go of the child's hand, teach it to keep its 
 eyes lowered to avoid seeing anything wrong. With regard to 
 religion, it should not be overdone, just sufficient as a moral 
 restraint. Then, when she has grown up, engage teachers 
 instead of sending her to school, where the innocent ones are 
 corrupted ; and assist also at the lessons, see that she does not 
 learn what she should not know, hide all newspapers of course, 
 and keep the bookcase locked. 
 
 " A young person always knows too much," declared the old 
 lady coming to an end. 
 
 Whilst her mother spoke, Marie kept her eyes vaguely fixed 
 on space. She once more beheld the little convent-like lodging, 
 those narrow rooms in the Rue Durantin, where she was not 
 even allowed to lean out of a window. It was one prolonged
 
 PIPING HOT ! 78 
 
 childhood, all sorts of prohibitions which she did not under- 
 stand, lines which her mother inked out on their fashion paper, 
 the black marks of which made her blush, lessons purified to 
 such an extent that even her teachers were embarrassed when 
 she questioned them. A very gentle childhood, however, the 
 soft warm growth of a greenhouse, a waking dream in which the 
 words uttered by the tongue, and the facts of every day life 
 acquired ridiculous meanings. And, even at that hour as she 
 gazed vacantly, and was filled with these recollections, a childish 
 smile hovered about her lips, as though she had remained in 
 ignorance spite even of her marriage. 
 
 "You will believe me if you like, sir," said Monsieur Vuillaumc, 
 "but my daughter had not read a single novel when she was 
 past eighteen. Is it not true, Marie 1 " 
 
 " Yes, papa." 
 
 "I have George Sand's works very handsomely bound," he 
 continued, " and in spite of her mother's fears I decided, a few 
 months before her marriage, to permit her to read ' Andre",' a 
 perfectly innocent work, full of imagination, and which elevates 
 the soul. I am for a liberal education. Literature has certainly 
 its rights. The book produced an extraordinary effect upon 
 her, sir. She cried all night in her sleep : which proves that 
 there is nothing like a pure imagination to understand genius." 
 
 " It is so beautiful ! " murmured the young woman, her eyes 
 sparkling. 
 
 But Pichon having enunciated this theory : no novels before 
 marriage, and as many as one likes afterwards Madame 
 Vuillaume shook her head. She never read, and was none the 
 worse for it. Then, Marie gently spoke of her loneliness. 
 
 " Well ! I sometimes take up a book. Jules chooses them 
 for me at the library in the Passage Choiseul. If I only played 
 the piano ! " 
 
 For some time past, Octave had felt the necessity of saying 
 something. 
 
 " What ! madame," exclaimed he, " you do not plsy ! " 
 
 A slight awkwardness ensued. The parents talked of a suc- 
 cession of unfortunate circumstances, not wishing to admit that 
 they had not been willing to incur the expense. Madame 
 Vuillaume, moreover, affirmed, that Marie sang in tune from 
 her birth ; when she was a child she knew all sorts of very 
 pretty ballads, she had only to hear the tunes once to remember 
 them ; and the mother spoke of a song about Spain, the story 
 of a captive weeping for her lover, which the child gave out
 
 74 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 with an expression that would draw tears from the hardest 
 hearts. But Marie remained disconsolate. She let this cry 
 escape her, as she extended her hand in the direction of the 
 inner room, where her little one was sleeping : 
 
 " Ah ! I swear that Lilitte shall learn to play the piano, even 
 though I have to make the greatest sacrifices ! " 
 
 " Think first of bringing her up as we brought you up," said 
 Madame Vuillaurne, severely. "I certainly do not condemn 
 music, it develops one's feelings. But, above all, watch over 
 your daughter, keep every foul breath from her, strive that she 
 may preserve her innocence." 
 
 She started off again, giving even more weight to religion, 
 settling the number of times to go to confess each month, 
 naming the masses that it was absolutely necessary to attend, 
 all from the point of view of propriety. Then Octave, unable 
 to bear any more of it, talked of an appointment which obliged 
 him to go out. He had a singing in his ears, he felt that this 
 conversation would continue in a like manner until the evening. 
 And he hastened away, leaving the Vuillauraes and the Pichons 
 telling one another, around the same cups of coffee slowly 
 emptied, what they told each other every Sunday. As he was 
 bowing a last time, Marie, suddenly and without any reason, 
 became scarlet. 
 
 Ever since that afternoon, Octave hastened past the Pichons' 
 door whenever he heard the slow tones of Monsieur and Madame 
 Vuillaume on a Sunday. Moreover, he was entirely absorbed 
 in his conquest of Valerie. In spite of the fiery glances of 
 which he thought himself the object, she maintained an in- 
 explicable reserve ; and in that he fancied he saw the play of a 
 coquette. He even met her one day, as though by chance, in 
 the Tuileries gardens, when she quietly began to talk of a storm 
 of the day before ; which finally convinced him that she was 
 devilish smart. And he was constantly on the staircase, 
 watching for an opportunity of entering her apartments, decided 
 if necessary upon being positively rude. 
 
 Now, every time that he passed her, Marie smiled and 
 blushed. They exchanged the greetings of good neighbours. 
 One morning, at lunch-tune, as he brought her up a letter, 
 which Monsieur Gourd had given him, to avoid having to go up 
 the four flights of stairs himself, he found her in a sad way : 
 she had seated Lilitte in her chemise on the round- table, and 
 was trying to dress her again. 
 
 " What is the matter 1 " asked the young man.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 75 
 
 " Why, this child ! " replied she. " I foolishly took her 
 things off, because she was complaining. And now I don't 
 know what to do, I don't know what to do ! " 
 
 He looked at her in surprise. She was turning a skirt over 
 and over, looking for the hooks. Then, she added : 
 
 "You see, her father always helps me to dress her in the 
 morning before he goes out. I can never manage it by myself. 
 It bothers me, it annoys me." 
 
 The child, meanwhile, tired of being in her chemise and 
 frightened by the sight of Octave, was struggling and tumbling 
 about on the table. 
 
 " Take care ! " cried he, " she will fall." 
 
 It was quite a catastrophe. Marie looked as though she dare 
 not touch her child's naked limbs. She continued contemplating 
 her, with the surprise of a virgin, amazed at having been able 
 to produce such a thing. However, assisted by Octave, who 
 quieted the little one, she succeeded in dressing her again. 
 
 " How will you manage when you have a dozen 1 " asked he, 
 aughing. 
 
 " But we shall never have any more ! " answered she in a 
 fright. 
 
 Then, he joked : she was wrong to be so sure, a child comes 
 so easily ! 
 
 " No ! no ! " repeated she obstinately. " You heard what 
 mamma said, the other day. She forbade Jules to have any 
 more. You do not know her ; it would lead to endless quarrels, 
 if another came." 
 
 Octave was amused by the quiet way in which she discussed 
 this question. He drew her out, without, however, succeeding 
 in embarrassing her. She, moreover, did as her husband wished. 
 No doubt, she loved children ; had she been allowed to desire 
 others, she would not have said no. And, beneath this com- 
 placency, which was restricted to her mother's commands, the 
 indifference of a woman whose maternity was still slumbering 
 could be recognized. Lilitte occupied her like her home, which 
 she looked after through duty. When she had washed up the 
 breakfast things and taken the child for her walk, she continued 
 her former young girl's existence, of a somnolent emptiness, 
 lulled by the vague expectation of a joy which never came. 
 Octave having remarked that she must feel very dull, being 
 always alone, she seemed surprised : no, she was never dull, the 
 days passed somehow or other, without her knowing, when she 
 went to bed, how she had employed her time. Then, on Suu-
 
 76 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 days, she sometimes went out with her husband; or her parents 
 called, or else she read. If reading did not give her headaches, 
 she would have read from morning till night, now that she was 
 allowed to read everything. 
 
 " What is really annoying," resumed she, " is that they have 
 scarcely anything at the library in the Passage Choiseul. For 
 instance, I wanted ' Andre",' to read it again, because it made me 
 cry so much the other time. Well ! their copy has been stolen. 
 Besides that, my father refuses to lend me his, because Lilitte 
 might tear the pictures." 
 
 " But," said Octave, " my friend Campardon has all George 
 Sand's works. I will ask him to lend me ' Andr6 ' for you." 
 
 She blushed, and her eyes sparkled. He was really too kind ! 
 And, when he left her, she stood before Lilitte, her arms hang- 
 ing down by her sides, without an idea in her head, in the atti- 
 tude which she maintained for whole afternoons together. She 
 detested sewing, she did crochet work, always the same piece, 
 which she left lying about the room. 
 
 Octave brought her the book on the morrow, a Sunday. 
 Pichou had had to go out, to leave his card on one of his super- 
 iors. And, as the young man found her dressed for walking, 
 she having just been on some errand in the neighbourhood, he 
 asked her out of curiosity whether she had been to church, 
 having the idea that she was religious. She answered no. 
 Before marrying her off, her mother used to take her regularly 
 to mass. During the six first months of her married life, she 
 continued going through force of habit, with the constant fear 
 of being too late. Then, she scarcely knew why, after missing 
 a few times, she left off going altogether. Her husband de- 
 tested priests, and her mother never even mentioned them now. 
 Octave's question, * however, disturbed her, as though it had 
 awakened within her things that had been long buried beneath 
 the idleness of her existence. 
 
 " I must go to Saint-Boob one of these mornings," said she. 
 " An occupation gone always leaves a void behind it." 
 
 And, on the pale face of this late child, born of parents too 
 old, there appeared the unhealthy regret of another existence, 
 dreamed of once upon a time, in the land of chimeras. She could 
 conceal nothing, everything was reflected in her face, beneath 
 her skin, which had the softness and the transparency accom- 
 panying an attack of chlorosis. Then, she gave way to her feel- 
 ings, and caught hold of Octave's hands with a familiar gesture. 
 
 " Ah ! let me thank you for having brought me this book !
 
 PITIKG HOT ! 77 
 
 Come to-morrow after lunch. I will return it to you and tell 
 you the effect that it produced on me. It will be amusing, 
 will it not ? " 
 
 On leaving her, Octave thought that she was funny all the 
 same. She was beginning to interest him, he contemplated 
 speaking to Pichon so as to make him rouse her up a bit ; for 
 the little woman, most decidedly, only wanted a shaking. It 
 so happened that on the morrow he came across the clerk just 
 as he was going off", and he accompanied him part of the way, 
 at the risk of being late himself at " The Ladies' Paradise." 
 But Pichon seemed to him to be even more benumbed than his 
 wife, full of manias in their early stage, and entirely occupied 
 with the dread of getting mud on his shoes in wet weather. 
 He walked on his toes, and continually talked of the second 
 head-clerk of his office. Octave, who was only animated by 
 fraternal intentions in the matter, ended by leaving him in the 
 Rue Saint-Honor^, after advising him to take Marie to the 
 theatre frequently. 
 
 " Whatever for ? " asked Pichon in amazement. 
 
 " Because it is good for women. It makes them nicer." 
 
 " Ah ! you really think so 1 " 
 
 He promised to give the matter his attention, and crossed the 
 street, eyeing the cabs with terror, the only thing in life which 
 worried him being the fear of getting splashed. 
 
 At lunch-time, Octave knocked at the Pichons' door for the 
 book. Marie was reading, her elbows on the table, her hands 
 buried in her dishevelled hair. She had just eaten an egg 
 cooked in a tin pan which was lying in the centre of the hastily 
 laid table without any cloth. Lilitte, forgotten on the floor, was 
 sleeping with her nose on the pieces of a plate which she had no 
 doubt broken. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 Marie did not answer at once. She was still wrapped in her 
 morning dressing-gown, which, from the buttons being torn off, 
 displayed her throat, in all the disorder of a woman just risen 
 from her bed. 
 
 "I have scarcely read a hundred pages," she ended by saying. 
 " My parents came yesterday." 
 
 And she spoke in a painful tone of voice, with a sourness about 
 her mouth. When she was younger, she longed to live in the 
 midst of the woods. She was for ever dreaming that she met 
 a huntsman who was sounding his horn. He approached her 
 and knelt down. This took place in a copse, very far away,
 
 78 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 where roses were blooming like in a park. Then, suddenly, 
 they had been married, and afterwards lived there, wandering 
 about till eternity. She, very happy, wished for nothing more ; 
 he, as tender and submissive as a slave, was continually at her 
 feet. 
 
 " I had a talk with your husband this morning," said Octave. 
 " You do not go out enough, and I have persuaded him to take 
 you to the theatre." 
 
 But she shook her head, turning pale and shivering. A 
 silence ensued. She again beheld the narrow dining-room with 
 its cold light. Jules's image, sullen and correct, had suddenly 
 cast a shadow over the huntsman of the romance whom she had 
 been imagining, and the sound of whose horn in the distance 
 again rang in her ears. Every now and then she listened : 
 perhaps he was coming. Her husband had never taken her 
 feet in his hands to kiss them ; he had never either knelt be- 
 side her to tell her he adored her. Yet, she loved him well ; 
 but she was surprised that love did not contain more sweetness. 
 
 " What stifles me, you know," resumed she, returning to the 
 book, " is when there are passages in novels about the characters 
 telling one another of their love." 
 
 Octave then sat down. He wished to laugh, not caring for 
 such sentimental trifling. 
 
 " I detest a lot of phrases/' said he. " When two persons 
 adore each other, the best thing is to prove it at once." 
 
 But she did not seem to understand, her eyes remained un- 
 dimmed. He stretched out his hand, slightly touching hers, 
 and leant over so close to her to observe a passage in the book 
 that his breath warmed her shoulder through the open dressing- 
 gown ; yet she remained insensible. Then, he rose up, full of 
 a contempt mingled with pity. As he was leaving, she said : 
 
 " I read very slowly, I shall not have finished it before to- 
 morrow. It will be amusing to-morrow ! Look in during the 
 evening." 
 
 He certainly had no designs upon her, and yet he felt indig- 
 nant He conceived a singular friendship for this young couple 
 who exasperated him, they seemed to take life so stupidly. 
 And the idea came to him of rendering them a service in spite 
 of them ; he would take them out to dinner, make them tipsy, 
 and then amuse himself by pushing them into each other's arms. 
 When such fits of kindness got hold of him, he, who would 
 not have lent ten francs, delighted in flinging his money out of 
 the window, to bring two lovers together and give them joy.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 7D 
 
 Little Madame Pichon's coldness, however, brought Octave 
 back to the ardent Valerie. This one, certainly, would not 
 require to be breathed upon twice on the back of her neck. He 
 was advancing in her favour : one day that she was going up- 
 stairs before him, he had ventured to compliment her on her 
 ankle, without her appearing displeased. 
 
 At length the opportunity so long watched for presented it- 
 self. It was the evening that Marie had made him promise to 
 look in ; they would be alone to talk about the novel, as her 
 husband was not to be home till very late. But the young man 
 had preferred to go out, seized wi.h fright at the thought of this 
 literary treat. However, he had decided to venture upon it, 
 towards ten o'clock, when he met Valerie's maid on the first- 
 floor landing with a scared look on her face, and who said to him : 
 
 "Madame has gone iuto hysterics, my master is out, and 
 every one opposite has gone to the theatre. Pray come in. I 
 am all alone, I don't know what to do." 
 
 Valerie was stretched out in an easy-chair in her bedroom, 
 her limbs rigid. The maid had unlaced her stays, and her 
 bosom was heaving. The attack subsided almost immediately. 
 She opened her eyes, was surprised to see Octave there, and 
 acted moreover as she might have done in the pi'esence of a 
 doctor. 
 
 " I nmst ask you to excuse me, sir," murmured she, her voice 
 still choking. " I have only had this girl since yesterday, and 
 she lost her head." 
 
 Her perfect coolness in adjusting her stays and fastening up 
 her dress again, embarrassed the young man. He remained 
 standing, swearing not to depart thus, yet not daring to sit 
 down. She had sent away the maid, the sight of whom seemed 
 to irritate her ; then she went to the window to breathe the 
 cool outdoor air in long nervous inspirations, her mouth wide 
 open. After a short silence, they commenced talking. She 
 had first suffered from these attacks when fourteen years old ; 
 Doctor Juillerat was tired of prescribing for her ; sometimes 
 they seized her in the arms, sometimes in the loins. However, 
 she was getting used to them ; she might as well have them as 
 anything else, as no one was really perfectly well. And, whilst 
 she talked, with scarcely any life in her limbs, he excited him- 
 self with looking at her, he thought her provoking in the midst 
 of her disorder, with her leaden complexion, her face upset by 
 the attack as though by a whole night of love. Behind the 
 black mass of her loose hair, which hung over her shoulders, he
 
 80 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 fancied he beheld the husband's poor and beardless head. Then, 
 stretching out his hands, with the tmrestrained gesture with 
 which he would have seized some harlot, he tried to take hold 
 of her. 
 
 "Well! what now?" asked she, in a voice full of sur- 
 prise. 
 
 In her turn she looked at him, whilst her eyes were so cold, 
 her flesh so calm, that he felt frozen and let his hands fall with 
 an awkward slowness, fully aware of the ridiculousness of his 
 gesture. Then, in a last nervous gape which she stifled, she 
 slowly added : 
 
 " Ah ! my dear sir, if you only knew ! " 
 
 And she shrugged her shoulders, without getting angry, as 
 though crushed beneath her contempt for man and her weariness 
 of him. Octave thought she was about to have him turned out 
 when he saw her move towards a bell-pull, dragging her loosely 
 fastened skirts along with her. But she merely required some 
 tea ; and she ordered it to be very weak and very hot. Alto- 
 gether nonplussed, he muttered some excuses and made for the 
 door, whilst she again reclined in the depths of her easy-chair, 
 with the air of a chilly woman greatly in want of sleep. 
 
 On the stairs, Octave stopped at each landing. She did not 
 like that then? He had just seen how indifferent she was, 
 without desire as without indignation, as difficult to deal with 
 as his employer, Madame Hedouin. Why did Campardon say 
 she was hysterical 1 it was absurd to take him in by telling him 
 such humbug ; for had it not been for the architect's lie, he 
 would never have risked such an adventure. And he remained 
 quite bewildered by the result, his ideas of hysteria altogether 
 upset, and thinking of the different stories that were going 
 about. He recalled Trublot's words : one never knows what to 
 expect, with those crazy sort of people whose eyes shine like 
 balls of fire. 
 
 Up on his landing Octave, annoyed with all women, walked 
 as softly as he could. But the Pichons' door opened, and he 
 had to resign himself. Marie awaited him, standing in the 
 narrow room, which the charred wick of the lamp but imper- 
 fectly lighted. She had drawn the crib close to the table, and 
 Lilitte was sleeping there in the circle of the yellow light. The 
 lunch things had probably also served for the dinner, for the 
 closed book was lying beside a dirty plate full of radish ends. 
 
 "Have you finished it?" asked Octave, surprised at the 
 young woman's silence
 
 PIPING HOT ! 81 
 
 She seemed intoxicated, her face was swollen as though she 
 had just awakened from a too heavy sleep. 
 
 "Yes, yes," said she, with an effort. " Oh ! I have passed 
 the day, my head in my hands, buried '4n it. When the fit 
 takes one, one no longer knows where orfo is. I have such a 
 stiff neck." 
 
 And, feeling pains all over her, she did not speak any more of 
 the book, but was so full of her emotion and of confused dreams 
 engendered by her reading, that she was choking. Her ears 
 rang with the distant calls of the horn, blown by the huntsman 
 of her romances, in the blue background of ideal loves. Then, 
 without the least reason, she said that she had been to Saint- 
 Roch that morning to hear the nine o'clock mass. She had 
 wept a great deal, religion replaced everything. 
 
 " Ah ! I feel better," resumed she, heaving a deep sigh and 
 standing still in front of Octave. 
 
 A pause ensued. She smiled at him with her candid eyes. 
 He had never thought her so useless, with her scanty hair and 
 her washed-out features. But as she continued looking at him, 
 she became very pale and almost stumbled ; and he was obliged 
 to put out his hands to support her. 
 
 " Good heavens ! good heavens ! " stuttered she, sobbing. 
 He continued to hold her, feeling considerably embarrassed. 
 " You should take a little infusion. You have been reading 
 too much." 
 
 " Yes, it upset me, when on closing the book I found myself 
 alone. How kind you are, Monsieur Mouret ! I might have 
 hurt myself, had it not been for you." 
 
 He looked for a chair on which to seat her. 
 "Shall I light a fire?" 
 
 f< No, thank you, it would dirty your hands. I have noticed 
 that you always wear gloves." 
 
 And choking again at the idea, and suddenly feeling faint, 
 she launched an awkward kiss into space as though in a dream, 
 a kiss which slightly touched the young man's ear. 
 
 Octave received this kiss with amazement. The young 
 woman's lips were as cold as ice. Then, when she had sank 
 upon his breast in an abandonment of her whole frame, he was 
 seized with a sudden desire, and sought to bear her into the 
 inner room. But this brusque wooing roused Marie ; her 
 womanly instinct revolted ; she struggled and called upon her 
 mother, forgetting her husband, who was shortly to return, and 
 her daughter who was sleeping near her. 
 
 F
 
 82 PIPING HOT! 
 
 " No, oh ! no, no. It is wrong." 
 
 But he kept ardently repeating : 
 
 " No one will ever know I shall never tell." 
 
 " No, Monsieur Octave. Do not spoil the happiness I have 
 in knowing you. It will do no good I assure you, and I had 
 dreamed things " 
 
 Then he left off speaking, having a revenge to take on 
 woman-kind, and saying coarsely to himself: "You, at any 
 rate, shall succumb ! " The door had not even been shut, the 
 solemnity of the staircase seemed to ascend in the midst of tho 
 silence. Lilitte was peacefully sleeping on the pillow of her 
 crib. 
 
 When Marie and Octave rose up, they could find nothing to 
 say to each other. She, mechanically, went and looked at her 
 daughter, took up the plate, and then laid it down again. He 
 remained silent, a prey to similar uneasiness, the adventure 
 had been so unexpected ; and he recalled to mind how he had 
 fraternally planned to restore the young woman to her husband's 
 arms. Feeling the necessity of breaking that intolerable silence 
 he ended by murmuring : 
 
 " You did not shut the door, then?" 
 
 She glanced out on to the lauding, and stammered : 
 
 " That is true, it was open," 
 
 Her face wore an expression of disgust. The young man too 
 was now thinking that after all there was nothing the least 
 funny in this adventure with a helpless woman, in the midst of 
 that solitude. 
 
 " Dear me ! the book has fallen on the floor ! " she continued, 
 picking the volume up. 
 
 A corner of the cover was broken. That drew them together, 
 and afforded some relief. Speech returned to them. Marie 
 appeared quite distressed. 
 
 " It was not my fault. You see, I had covered it with paper 
 for fear of soiling it. We must have knocked it over, without 
 doing so on purpose." 
 
 " Was it there then ? " asked Octave. " I did not notice it. 
 Oh ! for myself, I don't care a bit ! But Campardon thinks so 
 much of his books ! " 
 
 They kept passing it from one to the other, trying to put the 
 corner straight again. Their fingers touched without a quiver. 
 As they reflected on the consequences, they were quite dismayed 
 
 >at the accident which had happened to that handsome volume of 
 George Sand.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 83 
 
 " It was bound to end badly," concluded Marie, with tears in 
 her eyes. 
 
 Octave was obliged to console her. He would invent some 
 story, Campardon would not eat him. And their uneasiness 
 returned, at the moment of separation. They would have liked 
 at least to have said something amiable to each other ; but the 
 words choked them. Fortunately, a step was heard, it was the 
 husband coming upstairs. Octave silently took her in his arms 
 again and kissed her in his turn on the mouth. She once more 
 complaisantly submitted, her lips icy cold as before. When he 
 had noiselessly regained his room, he asked himself, as he took 
 oft' his overcoat, whatever was it that she wanted ? Women, he 
 said, were decidedly very peculiar. 
 
 On the morrow, at the Campardons', just as lunch was finished, 
 Octave was once more explaining that he had clumsily knocked 
 the book over, when Marie entered the room. She was going 
 to take Lilitte to the Tuileries gardens, and she had called to 
 ask if they would allow Angele to accompany her. And she 
 smiled at Octave, without the least confusion, and glanced in 
 her innocent way at the book lying on a chair. 
 
 " Why, I shall be only too pleased ! " said Madame Campar- 
 don. " Angele, go and put your hat on. I have no fear in 
 trusting her with you." 
 
 Marie, looking very modest, in a simple dress of dark woollen 
 stuff, talked of her husband, who had caught a cold the night 
 before, and of the price of meat, which would soon prevent 
 people buying it at all. Then, when she had left with Angele, 
 they all leant out of the windows to see them depart. Marie 
 gently pushed Lilitte's perambulator along the pavement with 
 her gloved hands ; whilst Angele, knowing that they were look- 
 ing at her, walked beside her friend, with her eyes fixed on the 
 ground. 
 
 " How respectable she looks ! " exclaimed Madame Campar- 
 don. " And so gentle ! so decorous ! " 
 
 Then, slapping Octave on the shoulder, the architect said : 
 
 " Education is everything in a family, my dear fellow ; there 
 is nothing like it I "
 
 84 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THAT evening, there was a reception and concert at the Duvey- 
 riers'. Towards nine o'clock, Octave, who had been invited for 
 the first time, was just finishing dressing. He was grave, and 
 felt irritated with himself. Why had he missed fire with 
 Valerie, a woman so well connected ? And Berthe Josserand, 
 ought he not to have reflected before refusing her ? At the 
 moment he was tying his white tie, the thought of Marie Pichon 
 had become unbearable to him : five months in Paris, and nothing 
 but that wretched adventure ! It was as painful to him as a 
 disgrace, for he well saw the emptiness and the uselessness of 
 such a connection. And he vowed to himself, as he took up 
 his gloves, that he would no longer waste his time in such a 
 manner. He was decided to act, as he had at length got into 
 society, where opportunities were certainly not wanting. 
 
 But, at the end of the passage, Marie was watching for him, 
 Pichon not being there, he was obliged to go in for a moment. 
 " How smart you are ! " murmured she. 
 They had never been invited to the Duveyriers', and that 
 filled her with respect for the first floor drawing-room. Besides, 
 she was jealous of no one, she had neither the strength nor the 
 will to be so. 
 
 "I shall wait for you," resumed she holding up her forehead. 
 " Do not come up too late ; you can tell me how you amused 
 yourself." 
 
 Octave had to deposit a kiss on her hair. Though relations 
 were established between them, according to his fancy, when- 
 ever a desire or want of something to do drew him to her, they 
 did not as yet address each other very familiarly. He at length 
 went downstairs; and she, leaning over the balustrade, follovved 
 him with her eyes. 
 
 At the same minute, quite a drama was enacting at the 
 Josserands'. In the mind of the mother, the Duveyriers' party 
 to which they were going, was to decide the question of a 
 marriage between Berthe and Auguste Vabre. The latter, who
 
 PIPING HOT ! 86 
 
 had been vigorously attacked for a fortnight past, still hesitated, 
 evidently entertaining donbts with respect to the dowry. So 
 Madame Josserand, for the purpose of striking a decisive blow, 
 had written to her brother, informing him of the contemplated 
 marriage and reminding him of his promises, with the hope 
 that, in his answer, he might say something that she could turn 
 to account. And all the family were awaiting nine o'clock be- 
 fore the dining-room stove, dressed ready to go down, when 
 Monsieur Gourd brought up a letter from uncle Bachelard 
 which had been forgotten \mder Madame Gourd's snuS-box since 
 the last delivery. 
 
 " Ah ! at last ! " said Madame Josserand, tearing open the 
 envelope. 
 
 The father and the two daughters watched her anxiously as 
 she read. Adele, who had had to dress the ladies, was moving 
 heavily about, clearing the table still covered with the dirty 
 crockery from the dinner. But Madame Josserand turned 
 ghastly pale. 
 
 " Nothing ! nothing ! " stuttered she, "not a clear sentence ! 
 He will see later on, at the time of the marriage. And he adds 
 that he loves us very much all the same. What a confounded 
 scoundrel ! " 
 
 Monsieur Josserand in his evening dress sank into a chair. 
 Hortense and Berthe also sat down, their legs feeling worn out \ 
 and they remained there, the one in blue, the other in pink, in 
 their eternal costumes, altered once again. 
 
 "I have always said," murmured the father, " that Bachelard 
 is imposing upon us. He will never give a sou." 
 
 Standing up in her flaring dress, Madame Josserand was 
 reading the letter over again. Then, her anger burst out. 
 
 " Ah ! men ! men ! That one, one would think him an idiot, 
 he leads such a life. Well ! not a bit of it ! Though he never 
 seems to be in his right mind, he opens his eye the moment 
 any one speaks to him of money. Ah ! men ! men ! " 
 
 She turned towards her daughters, to whom this lesson was 
 addressed. 
 
 " It has come to the point, you see, that I ask myself why it 
 is you have such a mania for getting married. Ah ! if you had 
 been worried out of your lives by it as I have ! Not a fellow 
 who loves you for yourselves and who would' bring you a for- 
 tune without haggling ! Millionaire uncles who, after having 
 beeu fed for twenty years, will not even give their nieces a
 
 86 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 dowry ! Husbands who are quite incompetent, oh ! yes, sir, 
 incompetent ! " 
 
 Monsieur Josserand bowed his head. Adele, who was not 
 even listening, was quietly finishing clearing the table. But 
 Madame Josserand suddenly turned angrily upon her. 
 
 " What are you doing there, spying upon us ? Go into your 
 kitchen and see if I am there ! " 
 
 And she wound up by saying : 
 
 " In short, everything for those wretched beings, the men ; 
 and for us, not even enough to satisfy our hunger. Listen ! 
 they are only fit for being taken in ! Remember my words ! " 
 
 Hortense and Berthe nodded their heads, as though deeply 
 penetrated by what their mother had been saying. For a long 
 time past she had completely convinced them of man's utter in- 
 feriority, his unique part in life being to marry and to pay. A long 
 silence ensued in the smoky dining-room, where the remainder 
 of the things left on the table by Adele emitted a stuffy smell 
 of food. The Josserands, gorgeously arrayed, scattered on differ- 
 ent chairs and overwhelmed, were forgetting the Duveyriers' 
 concert as they reflected on the continual deceptions of life 
 From the depths of the adjoining chamber, one could hear the 
 snoring of Saturnin, whom they had sent to bed early. 
 
 At length, Berthe spoke : 
 
 " So it is all up. Shall we take our things off? " 
 
 But, at this, Madame Josserand's energy at once returned to 
 her. Eh ? what ? take their things off ! and why pray ! were 
 they not respectable people, was not an alliance with their 
 family as good as with any other ? The marriage should take 
 place all the same, she would die rather. And she rapidly dis- 
 tributed their parts to each : the two young ladies were in- 
 structed to be very amiable to Auguste, and not to leave him 
 until he had taken the leap ; the father received the mission of 
 overcoming old Vabre and Duveyrier, by agreeing with every- 
 thing they said, if his intelligence was sufficient to enable him 
 to do such a thing; as for herself, desirous of neglecting nothing, 
 she undertook the women, she would know how to get them all 
 on her side. Then, collecting her thoughts and casting a last 
 glance round the dining-room, as though to make sure that no 
 weapon had been forgotten, she put on the terrible look of a 
 man of war about to lead his daughters to massacre, and uttered 
 these words in a powerful voice : 
 
 " Let us go down ! " 
 
 And down they went. In the solemnity of the staircase,
 
 PIPING HOT ! 87 
 
 Monsieur Josserand was full of uneasiness, for he foresaw many 
 disagreeable things for the too narrow conscience of a worthy 
 man like himself. 
 
 When they entered, there was already a crush at the Du- 
 veyriers'. The enormous grand piano occupied one entire end 
 of the drawing-room, the ladies being seated in front of it on 
 rows of chairs, like at the theatre ; and two dense masses of 
 black coats filled up the doorways leading to the dining-room 
 and the parlour. The chandelier and the candelabra, and the 
 six lamps standing on side-tables, lit up with a blinding light 
 the white and gold room in which the red silk of the furniture 
 and of the hangings showed up vividly. It was very warm, the 
 fans produced a breeze at regular intervals, impregnated with 
 the penetrating odours of bodices and bare shoulders. 
 
 Just at that moment, Madame Duveyrier was taking her 
 seat at the piano. With a gesture, Madame Josserand smil- 
 ingly begged she would not disturb herself; and she left her 
 daughters in the midst of the men, as she accepted a chair for 
 herself between Valerie [and Madame Juzeur. Monsieur Josse- 
 rand had made for the parlour, where the landlord, Monsieur 
 Vabre, was dozing at his usual place, in the corner of a sofa. 
 There were also Campardon, Th6ophile and Auguste Vabre, 
 Doctor Juillerat and the Abbe Mauduit, forming a group; whilst 
 Trublot and Octave, who had rejoined each other, had flown 
 from the music to the end of the dining-room. Near them, 
 and behind the stream of black coats, Duveyrier, thin and tall 
 of stature, was looking fixedly at his wife seated at the piano 
 waiting for silence. In the button-hole of his coat he wore the 
 ribbon of the Legion of Honour in a neat little rosette. 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! silence ! " murmured some friendly voices. 
 
 Then, Clotilde Duveyrier commenced one of Chopin's most 
 difficult serenades. Tall and handsome, with magnificent red 
 hair, she had a long face, as pale and cold as snow ; and, in her 
 grey eyes, music alone kindled a flame, an exaggerated passion 
 on which she existed without any other desire either of the 
 flesh or the spirit. Duveyrier continued watching her ; then, 
 after the first bars, a nervous exasperation contracted his lips, 
 he drew aside and kept himself at the farthest end of the 
 dining-room. On his clean-shaven face, with its pointed chin 
 and "eyes all askew, large red blotches indicated a bad blood, 
 quite a pollution festering just beneath the skin. 
 
 Trublot, who was examining him, quietly observed : 
 
 " He does pot like music."
 
 88 PIPING HOT! 
 
 " Nor I either," replied Octave. 
 
 " Oh ! the unpleasantness is not the same for you. A man, 
 my dear fellow, who was always lucky. Not a whit more 
 intelligent than another, but who was helped along by every 
 one. Belonging to an old middle-class family, the father an 
 ex-presiding judge, called to the bar the moment he had 
 completed his studies, then appointed, deputy judge at Reims, 
 from whence he was removed to Paris and made judge of the 
 Court of First Instance, decorated, and now a counsellor before 
 he is forty-five years of age. It's stiff, isn't it ? But he does 
 not like music, that piano has been the bane of nis life. One 
 cannot have everything." 
 
 Meanwhile, Clotilde was knocking off the difficult passages 
 with extraordinary composure. She handled her piano like a 
 circus-rider her horse. Octave's attention was solely occupied 
 with the furious working of her hands. 
 
 " Just look at her fingers," said he, " it is astonishing ! A 
 quarter of an hour of that must hurt her immensely." 
 
 And they both fell to talking of women without troubling 
 themselves any further with what she was playing. Octave 
 felt rather embarrassed on catching sight of Valerie : what line 
 of conduct should he pursue 1 ought he to speak to her or pre- 
 tend not to see her? Trublot affected a great disdain : there 
 was still not one to take his fancy ; and, as his companion pro- 
 tested, looking about, and saying that there was surely one 
 amongst the number who would suit him, he learnedly 
 declared : 
 
 " Well ! take your choice, and you will see afterwards, when 
 the gloss is off. Eh 1 not the one with the feathers over there ; 
 nor the blonde in the mauve dress ; nor that old party, though 
 she at least has the merit of being fat. I tell you, my dear 
 fellow, it is absurd to seek for anything of the kind in society. 
 Plenty of airs, but not a particle of pleasure ! " 
 
 Octave smiled. He had to make his position in the world ; 
 he could not afford merely to consider his taste, like Trublot, 
 whose father was so rich. The sight of those rows of women 
 set him musing, he asked himself which among them he would 
 have chosen for his fortune and his pleasure, if he had been 
 allowed to take one of them away. As he was weighing them 
 with a glance, one after the other, he suddenly exclaimed : 
 
 " Hallo ! my employer's wife ! She visits here then 1 " 
 
 " Did you not know it 1 ?" asked Trublot. " In spite of the 
 difference in their ages, Madame Hedouin and Madame
 
 TKUBLOT CKlTICI^ftfG THE FEMALE GUESTS AT THE DUVEYBIEES' RECEPTION. 
 
 p. 88.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 89 
 
 Duveyrier are two school friends. They used to be insepar- 
 able, and were called the polar bears, because they were always 
 fully twenty degrees below freezing point. They are some 
 more of the ornamental class ! Duveyrier would be in a sad 
 plight if he had not some other hot water-bottle for his feet in 
 winter time ! " 
 
 But Octave had now become serious. For the first time, he 
 beheld Madame Hedouin in a low neck dress, her shoulders 
 and arms bare, with her black hair plaited in front ; and she 
 appeared in the ardent light as the realisation of his desires : a 
 superb woman, extremely healthy and calmly beautiful, who 
 would be a benefit in every way to a man. Complicated plans 
 were already absorbing him, when an awful din awoke him from 
 his dream. 
 
 " What a relief ! it is finished ! " said Trublot. 
 
 Compliments were being showered upon Clotilde. Madame 
 Josserand, who had hastened to her, was pressing her hands ; 
 whilst the men resumed their conversation, and the ladies 
 fanned themselves more vigorously. Duveyrier then ventured 
 back into the parlour, where Trublot and Octave followed him. 
 Whilst in the midst of the skirts, the former whispered into 
 the latter's ear : 
 
 " Look on your right. The angling has commenced." 
 
 It was Madame Josserand who was setting Berthe on to 
 Auguste. He had imprudently gone up to the ladies to wish 
 them good evening. His head was not bothering him so much 
 just then ; he merely felt a touch of neuralgia in his left eye ; 
 but he dreaded the end of the party, for there was going to be 
 singing, and nothing was worse for him than this. 
 
 " Berthe," said the mother, " tell Monsieur Vabre of the 
 remedy you copied for him out of that book. Oh ! it is a 
 sovereign cure for headaches ! " 
 
 And, having started the affair, she left them standing beside 
 a window. 
 
 " By Jove ! they are going in for chemistry ! " murmured 
 Trublot. 
 
 In the parlour, Monsieur Josserand, desirous of pleasing his 
 wife, had remained seated before Monsieur Vabre, feeling very 
 embarrassed, for the old gentleman was asleep, and he did not 
 dare awake him to do the amiable. But, when the music 
 ceased, Monsieur Vabre raised his eye-lids. Short and stout, 
 and completely bald, save for two tufts of white hair over his 
 ears, he had a ruddy face, with thick lips, and round eyes
 
 90 FIFING HOTI 
 
 almost at the top of his head. Monsieur Josserand having 
 politely inquired after his health, the conversation began. The 
 retired notary, whose four or five ideas always followed the 
 same order, commenced by making an observation about Ver- 
 sailles, where he had practiced during forty years ; then, he 
 talked of his sons, once more regretting that neither the one 
 nor the other had shown himself capable of carrying on the 
 practice, so that he had decided to sell it and inhabit Paris ; 
 after which, he came to the history of his house, the buildino- 
 of which was the romance of his life. 
 
 " I have buried three hundred thousand francs in it, sir. A 
 superb speculation, my architect said. But to-day I have great 
 difficulty in getting the value of my money ; more especially 
 as all my children have come to live here, with the idea of not 
 paying me, and I should never have a quarter's rent, if I did 
 not apply for it myself on the fifteenth. Fortunately, I have 
 work to console me." 
 
 " Do you still work much ? " asked Monsieur Josserand. 
 " Always, always, sir ! " replied the old gentleman with the 
 energy of despair. " Work is life to me." 
 
 And he explained his great task. For ten years past, he had 
 every year waded through the official catalogue of the exhibi- 
 tion of paintings, writing on tickets each painter's name, and 
 the paintings exhibited. He spoke of it with an air of weari- 
 ness and anguish ; the whole year scarcely gave him sufficient 
 time, the task was often so arduous, that it sometimes proved 
 too much for him ; for instance, when a lady artist married, and 
 then exhibited under her husband's name, how was he to see 
 his way clearly ? 
 
 " My work will never be complete, it is that which is killing 
 me," murmured he. 
 
 " You take a great interest in art, do you not 1 " resumed 
 Monsieur Josserand, to flatter him. 
 
 Monsieur Vabre looked at him, full of surprise. 
 " No, I do not require to see the paintings. It is merely a 
 matter of statistics. There now ! I had better go to bed, my 
 head will be all the clearer to-morrow. Good-night, sir." 
 
 He leant on a walking-stick, which he used even in the house, 
 and withdrew, walking painfully, the lower part of his back 
 already succumbing to paralysis. Monsieur Josserand felt per- 
 plexed : he had not uderstood very clearly, he feared he had 
 not spoken of the tickets with sufficient enthusiasm. 
 
 But a slight hubbub coming from the drawing room, attracted
 
 PIPING HOT ! 91 
 
 Trublot aud Octave again to the door. They saw a lady of 
 about fifty enter, very stout, and still handsome, followed by a 
 young man, correctly attired, and with a serious air about him. 
 
 "What! they arrive together!" murmured Trublot. "Well! 
 I never ! " 
 
 The new-comers were Madame Dambreville and L6on Josse- 
 rand. She had undertaken to find him a wife ; then, whilst 
 waiting, she had kept him for her own personal use ; and they 
 were now in their full honeymoon, attracting general attention 
 in the middle-class drawing-rooms. There were whisperings 
 amongst the mothers who had daughters to marry. But 
 Madame Duveyrier was advancing to meet Madame Dambre- 
 ville, who supplied her with young men for her choruses. 
 Madame Josserand at once supplanted her, and overwhelmed 
 her son's friend with all sorts of attentions, reflecting that she 
 might have need of her. Le"on coldly exchanged a few words 
 with his mother ; yet, she was now beginning to think that he 
 would after all be able to do something for himself. 
 
 " Berthe does not see you," said she to Madame Dambreville. 
 " Excuse her, she is telling Monsieur Auguste of some remedy." 
 
 " But they are very well together, we must leave them 
 alone," replied the lady, understanding at a glance. 
 
 They both watched Berthe maternally. She had ended by 
 pushing Auguste into the recess caused by the window, and 
 was keeping him there with her pretty gestures. He was be- 
 coming animated, and running the risk of a bad headache. 
 
 Meanwhile, a group of grave men were talking politics in the 
 parlour. There had been a stormy sitting of the Senate the 
 day before, where they were discussing the address respecting 
 the Roman question ; and Doctor Juillerat, whose opinions 
 were atheistical and revolutionary, was maintaining that Rome 
 ought to be given to the king of Italy ; whilst the Abbe" Mau- 
 duit, one of the heads of the Ultramontane party prophesied 
 the most awful catastrophes, if Frenchmen did not shed the 
 last drop of their blood in supporting the tempo al power of 
 the pope. 
 
 "Perhaps some modus vivendi may be found which will 
 prove acceptable to both parties," observed Leon Josserand 
 arriving. 
 
 He was just then the secretary of a celebrated ba -rister, one 
 of the deputies of the left. During two years, having nothing tc 
 expect from his parents, whose mediocrity moreover )xasperated 
 him, he had frequented the students' quarter in the guise of a
 
 92 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 ferocious demagogue. But, since his acquaintance with the 
 Dambrevilles, at whose expense he was satisfying his first 
 appetites, he was calming down, and drifting into the learned 
 Republican. 
 
 " No, no agreement is possible," said the priest " The 
 Church could not make terms." 
 
 " Then, it shall vanish ! " exclaimed the doctor. 
 
 And, though great friends, having met at the bedsides of all 
 the departing souls of the Saint-lloch district, they seemed irre- 
 concilable, the doctor thin and nervous, the priest fat and affable. 
 The latter preserved a polite smile, even when making his 
 most absolute statements, like a man of the world, tolerant for 
 the short- com ings of existence, but also like a Catholic who did 
 not intend to abandon any of his religious belief. 
 
 " The Church vanish, pooh ! " said Campardon with a furious 
 air, just to be well with the priest, from whom he was expecting 
 a large order. 
 
 Besides, it was the opinion of almost all the gentlemen : it 
 could not vanish. Theophile Vabre, who, coughing and spitting, 
 and shaking with fever, dreamed of universal happiness through 
 the organization of a humanitarian republic, alone maintained 
 that, perhaps, it would be transformed. 
 
 The priest resumed in his gentle voice : 
 
 " The Empire is committing suicide. You will see it is so, 
 next year, when the elections come on." 
 
 " Oh ! as for the Empire, we permit you to rid us of it," said 
 the doctor boldly. " You will be rendering us a precious ser- 
 vice." 
 
 Then, Duveyrier, who seemed listening profoundly, shook his 
 head. He belonged to an Orleanist family ; but he owed every- 
 thing to the Empire and considered he ought to defend it. 
 
 " Believe me," he at length declared severely, "do not shake 
 the foundations of society, or everything will collapse. It is we, 
 as sure as fate, who suffer from every catastrophe." 
 
 " Very true ! " observed Monsieur Josserand, who entertained 
 no opinion, but remembered his wife's instructions. 
 
 All spoke at once. None of them liked the Empire. Doctor 
 Juillerat condemned the Mexican expedition, the Abbe Mauduit 
 blamed the recognition of the kingdom of Italy. Yet, Theophile 
 Vabre and even L6on felt anxious when Duveyrier threatened 
 them with another '93. What was the use of those continual 
 revolutions 1 had not liberty been obtained 1 and the hatred of 
 new iuoas, the fear of the people wishing their share, calmed the
 
 PIPING HOT ! 93 
 
 liberalism of those satisfied middle-class men. They all de- 
 clared, however, that they would vote against the Emperor, for 
 he was in need of a lesson. 
 
 " Ah ! how they bore me ! " said Trublot, who had been trying 
 to understand for some minutes past. 
 
 Octave persuaded him to return to the ladies. In the recess 
 of the window, Berthe was deafening Auguste with her laughter. 
 This big follow, with his pale blood, was forgetting his fear of 
 women, and was becoming quite red, beneath the attacks of the 
 lovely girl, whose breath warmed his face. Madame Josseraud, 
 however, probably considered that the affair was dragging, for 
 she looked fixedly at Hortense ; and the latter obediently went 
 and gave her sister her assistance. 
 
 "Are you quite recovered, madame?" Octave dared to ask Valerie. 
 
 " Quite, sir, thank you," replied she coolly, as though she re- 
 membered nothing. 
 
 Madame Juzeur spoke to the young man about some old lace 
 which she wished to show him, to have his opinion of it ; and 
 he had to promise to look in on her for a moment on the morrow. 
 Then, as the Abbe Mauduit re-entered the drawing-room, she 
 called him and made him sit beside her with an air of rapture. 
 
 The conversation had again resumed. The ladies were dis- 
 cussing their servants. 
 
 " Well ! yes," continued Madame Duveyrier, " I am satisfied 
 with Clemence, she is a very clean and very active girl." 
 
 " And your Hippolyte," asked Madame Josserand, " had you 
 not the intention of discharging him ? " 
 
 Just then, Hippolyte, the footman, was handing round some 
 ices. When he had withdrawn, tall, strong, and with a florid 
 complexion, Clotilde answered in an embarrassed way : 
 
 " We have decided to keep him. It is so unpleasant chang- 
 ing 1 You know, servants get used to one another, and I 
 should not like to part with Clemence." 
 
 Madame Josserand hastened to agree with her, feeling that 
 they were on delicate ground. There was some hope of marry- 
 ing the two together, some day ; and the Abbe Mauduit, whom 
 the Duveyriers' had consulted in the matter, slowly wagged his 
 head, as though to dissemble a state of affairs known to all the 
 house, but of which no one ever spoke. All the ladies now 
 opened their hearts : Valerie had sent another servant about 
 her business that very morning, and that made three in a 
 week ; Madame Juzeur had decided to take a young girl of 
 fifteen from the foundling hospital so as to teach her herself; as
 
 94 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 for Madame Josserand, her complaints of Adele seemed 
 nover likely to cease, a slut, a good-for-nothing, whose goings-on 
 were most extraordinary. And they all, feeling languid in the 
 blaze of the candles and the perfume of the flowers, sank deeper 
 into these ante-room stories, wading through greasy account- 
 books, and taking a delight in relating the insolence of a coach- 
 man or of a scullery-maid. 
 
 " Have you seen Julie ? " abruptly asked Trublot of Octave, 
 in a mysterious tone of voice. 
 
 And, as the other looked at him in amazement, he added : 
 
 " My dear fellow, she is stunning. Go and see her. Just 
 pretend you want to go somewhere, and then slip into the 
 kitchen. She is stunning ! " 
 
 He was speaking of the Duveyriers' cook. The ladies' con- 
 versation was taking a turn : Madame Josserand was describing, 
 with overflowing admiration, a very modest estate which the 
 Duveyriers had near Villeneuve-Saint-Georges, and which she 
 had merely caught a glimpse of from the train, one day when 
 she was going to Fontaiuebleaxi. But Clotilde did not like the 
 country, she lived there as little as possible, merely during the 
 holidays of her son, Gustave, who was then studying rhetoric 
 at the Lycee Bonaparte. 
 
 " Caroline is right in not wishing to have any children," de- 
 clared she, turning towards Madame H^douin, seated two chairs 
 away from her. "The little things interfere with all your habits !" 
 
 Madame Hedouin said that she liked them a good deal. But 
 she was much too busy; her husband was constantly away, 
 and she had everything to look after. 
 
 Octave, standing up behind her chair, searched with a side 
 glance the little curly hairs, as black as ink, on the nape of her 
 neck, and the snowy whiteness of her bosom, which her dress 
 being open very low disappeared in a mass of lace. She 
 ended by completely confusing him, as she sat there so calm, 
 speaking but rarely and with a continuous smile on her hand- 
 some face ; he had never before seen so superb a creature, even 
 at Marseilles. Decidedly, it was worth trying, though it would 
 be a long task. 
 
 " Having children robs women of their good looks so 
 quickly ! " said he in her ear, leaning over, feeling an absolute 
 necessity to speak to her, and yet finding nothing else to say. 
 
 She slowly raised her large eyes, and then replied with the 
 simple air with which she would give him an order at the 
 warehouse.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 98 
 
 " Oh ! no, Monsieur Octave ; with me it is not for that. 
 One must have the time, that is all." 
 
 But Madame Duveyrier intervened. She had merely greeted 
 the young man with a slight bow, when Campardon had intro- 
 duced him to her; and now she was examining him, and 
 listening to him, without seeking to hide a sudden interest. 
 When she heard him conversing with her friend, she could not 
 help asking : 
 
 " Pray, excuse me, sir. What voice have you ? " 
 
 He did not understand immediately ; but he ended by saying 
 that his was a tenor voice. Then, Clotilde became quite en- 
 thusiastic : a tenor voice, really ! what a piece of luck, tenor 
 voices were becoming so rare ! For instance, for the " Blessing 
 of the Daggers," which they were going to sing by-and-by, she 
 had never been able to find more than three tenors among her 
 acquaintances, when at least five were required. And, suddenly 
 excited, her eyes sparkling, she had to restrain herself from 
 going at once to the piano to try his voice. He was obliged to 
 promise to come one evening for the purpose. Trublot, who 
 was behind him, kept nudging him with his elbow, ferociously 
 enjoying himself in his impassibility. 
 
 " Ah ! so you are in for it too ! " murmured he, when she had 
 moved away. "For myself, my dear fellow, she first of all thought 
 I had a barytone voice ; then, seeing that 1 did not get on " all 
 right, she tried me as a tenor ; but as I went no better, she has 
 decided to use me to-night as bass. I am one of the monks." 
 
 But he had to leave Octave as Madame Duveyrier was just 
 then calling him ; they were about to sing the chorus, the great 
 piece of the evening. There was quite a commotion. Some 
 fifteen men, all amateurs, and all recruited among the guests 
 of the house, painfully opened a passage for themselves through 
 the groups of ladies, to form in front of the piano. They were 
 constantly brought to a standstill, and asked to be excused, in 
 voices drowned by the hum of conversations ; whilst the fans 
 were moved more rapidly in the increasing heat. At length, 
 Madame Duveyrier counted them ; they were all there, and she 
 distributed them their parts, which she had copied out herself. 
 Campardon took the part of Saint-Bris ; a young auditor at- 
 tached to the Council of State was intrusted with De Nevers's 
 few bars ; then came eight nobles, four aldermen, and three 
 monks, represented by barristers, clerks, and simple house- 
 holders. She, who accompanied, had also reserved herself the 
 part of Valentine, passionate cries which she uttered whilst
 
 96 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 striking chords ; for she would have no lady amongst the 
 gentlemen, the resigned troop of whom she directed with all the 
 severity of a conductor of an orchestra. 
 
 The conversations continued, an intolerable noise issued from 
 the parlour especially, where the political discussions were evi- 
 dently entering on a disagreeable phase. Then Clotilde, taking 
 a key from her pocket, tapped gently with it on the piano. A 
 murmur ran through the room, the voices dropped, two streams 
 of black coats again flowed to the doors ; and, looking over the 
 heads, one beheld for a moment Duveyrier's red spotted face 
 wearing an agonised expression. Octave had remained standing 
 behind Madame Hedouin, the glances from his lowered eyes 
 losing themselves in the shadows of her bosom, in the depths of 
 the lace. But when the silence was almost complete, there 
 was a burst of laughter, and he raised his head. It was Berthe, 
 who was amused at some joke of Auguste's ; she had heated his 
 poor blood to such a point that he was becoming quite jovial. 
 Every person in the drawing-room looked at them, mothers be- 
 came grave, members of the family exchanged a glance. 
 
 " She has such spirits ! " murmured Madame Josserand ten- 
 derly, in such a way as to be heard. 
 
 Hortense, close to her sister, was assisting her with com- 
 plaisant abnegation, joining in her laughter, and pushing her 
 up against the young man ; whilst the breeze which entered 
 through the partly open window behind them gently swelled the 
 big crimson silk curtains. 
 
 But a sepulchral voice resounded, all the heads turned to- 
 wards the piano. Campardon, his mouth wide open, his beard 
 spread out in a lyrical blast, was giving the first line : 
 
 "Yes, we are here assembled by the queen's command." 
 
 Clotilde at once ran up a scale and down again ; then, her eyes 
 fixed on the ceiling, a look of fright on her face, she uttered 
 the cry : 
 
 "I tremble!" 
 
 And the whole thing followed, the eight barristers, clerks and 
 householders, their noses on their parts, in the postures of school- 
 boys humming and hawing over a page of Greek, swore that they 
 were ready to deliver France. This opening was a surprise, for 
 the voices were stifled beneath the low ceiling, one was unable to 
 catch more than a sort of lmm,like a noise of passing carts full of 
 paving stones causing the windows to rattle. But when Saint- 
 Bris's melodious line : " For this holy cause " unrolled the
 
 PIPING HOT ! 97 
 
 principal theme, some of the ladies recognised it and nodded 
 their heads knowingly. All were warming to the work, the 
 nobles shouted out at random : " We swear it ! We will 
 follow you ! " and, each time, it was like an explosion which 
 caught the guests full in the chest. 
 
 "They sing too loud," murmured Octave in Madame Hedouiu's 
 ear. 
 
 She did not move. Then, as De Nevers's and Valentine's ex- 
 planations bored him, more especially as the auditor attached 
 to the Council of State was a false barytone, he corresponded 
 by signs with Trublot who, whilst awaiting the entrance of the 
 monks, drew his attention with a wink to the window where 
 Berthe was continuing to keep Auguste imprisoned. Now, they 
 were alone, in the fresh breeze from outside ; whilst, with her 
 ear pricked up, Hortense stood before them, leaning against the 
 curtain and mechanically twisting the loop. No one was watch- 
 ing them now, even Madame Josserand and Madame Dambrevillo 
 were looking away, after an instinctive exchange of glances. 
 
 Meanwhile, Clotilde, her fingers on the keys, carried away 
 and unable to risk a gesture, stretched her neck and addressed 
 to the music stand this oath intended for De Nevers : 
 
 " Ah ! from to-day all my blood is yours ! " 
 
 The aldermen had made their entrance, a substitute, two 
 attorneys, and a notary. The quartette was well delivered, the 
 line : " For this holy cause " returned, spread out, supported 
 by half the chorus, in a continuous expansion. Campardon, 
 his mouth opened wider and wider, gave the orders for the com- 
 bat, with a terrible roll of syllables, And, suddenly, the chant 
 of the monks burst forth : Trublot sang from his stomach, so 
 as to reach the low notes. 
 
 Octave, having had the curiosity to watch him singing, was 
 struck with surprise, when he again cast his eyes in the 
 direction of the window. As though carried away by the 
 chorus, Hortense had unfastened the loop, by a move- 
 ment which . might have been unintentional ; and, in fall- 
 ing, the big crimson silk curtain had completely hidden Auguste 
 and Berthe. They were there behind it, leaning against the 
 window bar, without a movement betraying their presence. 
 Octavo no longer troubled himself about Trublot, who was just 
 then blessing the daggers : " Holy daggers, by us be blessed." 
 Whatever could they be doing behind that curtain? The fugue 
 was commencing ; to the deep tones of the monks, the chorus re- 
 
 G
 
 98 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 plied : "Death ! death ! death !" And still they did not move ; 
 perhaps, feeling the heat too much, they were simply watching 
 the cabs pass. But Saint-Bris's melodious line had again re- 
 turned, by degrees all the voices uttered it with the whole 
 strength of their lungs, progressively and in a final outburst of 
 extraordinary force. It was like a gust of wind burying itself 
 in the farthest corners of the too narrow room, scaring the 
 candles, making the guests turn pale and their ears bleed. 
 Clotilde furiously strummed away on the piano, carrying the 
 gentlemen along with her with a glance; then the voices 
 quieted down, almost whispering : " At midnight, let there be 
 not a sound ! " and she continued on alone, using the soft 
 pedal, and imitating the cadenced and distant footsteps of some 
 departing patrol. 
 
 Then, suddenly, in the midst of this expiring music, of this 
 relief after so much uproar, one heard a voice exclaim : 
 
 " You are hurting me ! " 
 
 All the heads again turned towards the window. Madame 
 Dambreville kindly made herself useful, by going and pulling 
 the curtain aside. And the whole drawing-room beheld Augusta 
 looking very confused and Berthe very red, still leaning against 
 the bar of the window. 
 
 " What is the matter, my treasure 1 " asked Madame Josse- 
 rand earnestly. 
 
 "Nothing, mamma. Monsieur Auguste knocked my arm 
 with the window. I was so warm ! " 
 
 She turned redder still. There were affected smiles and 
 scandalized pouts. Madame Duveyrier, who, for a month past, 
 had been trying to keep her brother out of Berthe's way, turned 
 quite pale, more especially as the incident had spoilt the effect 
 of her chorus. However, after the first moment of surprise, the 
 applause burst forth, she was congratulated, and some amiable 
 things were said about the gentlemen. How delightfully they 
 had sung ! what pains she must have taken to get them to sing 
 so well in time ! Really, it could not have been rendered 
 better at a theatre. But, beneath all this praise, she could not 
 fail to hear the whispering which went round the drawing-room : 
 the young girl was too much compromised, a marriage had be- 
 come inevitable. 
 
 " Well ! he is hooked ! " observed Trublot as he rejoined 
 Octave. " What a ninny ! as though he could not have pinched 
 her whilst we were all bellowing! I thought all the while that 
 he was taking advantage of it. You know, in drawing-rooms
 
 CONFUSION OF BEHTHE AND AUGL'STE AT THE DUVEYRIERS' RECEPTION. 
 
 p. 98.
 
 PIPING HOT! 99 
 
 where they go in for singing, one pinches a lady, and if she 
 cries out it does not matter, no one hears ! " 
 
 Berthe, now very calm, was again laughing, whilst Hortense 
 looked at Auguste with her crabbed air of a girl who had taken 
 a diploma ; and, in their triumph, the mother's lessons re- 
 appeared, the undisguised contempt for man. All the gentle- 
 men had now invaded the drawing-room, mingling with the 
 ladies, and raising their voices. Monsieur Josserand, feeling sick 
 at heart through Berthe's adventure, had drawn near his wife. 
 He listened uneasily as she thanked Madame Dambreville for all 
 her kindness to their son Le"on, whom she had most decidedly 
 changed to his advantage. But his uneasiness increased when 
 he heard her again refer to her daughters. She pretended to 
 converse in low tones with Madame Juzeur, though speaking 
 all the while for Valerie and Clotilde, who were standing up 
 close beside her. 
 
 " Well, yes ! her uncle mentioned it in a letter again to-day ; 
 Berthe will have fifty thousand francs. It is not much, no 
 doubt, but when the money is there, and as safe as the bank too !" 
 
 This lie roused his indignation. He could not help stealthily 
 touching her shoulder. She looked at him, forcing him to 
 lower his eyes before the resolute expression of her face. Then, 
 as Madame Duveyrier turned round quite amiably, she asked 
 her with great concern for news of her father. 
 
 " Oh ! papa has probably gone to bed," replied the young 
 woman, quite won over. " He works so hard ! " 
 
 Monsieur Josserand said that Monsieur Vabre had indeed 
 retired, so as to have his ideas clear on the morrow. And he 
 mumbled a few words : a most remarkable mind, extraordinary 
 faculties ; asking himself at the same time where he would get 
 that dowry from, and thinking what a figure he would cut, the 
 day the marriage contract had to be signed. 
 
 A great noise of chairs being moved now filled the drawing- 
 room. The ladies passed into the dining-room, where the tea 
 was ready served. Madame Josserand sailed victoriously in, 
 surrounded by her daughters and the Vabre family. Soon only 
 the group of serious men remained amidst the vacant chairs. 
 Campardou had button-holed the Abbe Mauduit : there was a 
 question of some repairs to the calvary at Saint-Roch. The 
 architect said he was quite free, for the diocese of Evreux gave 
 him very little to do. All he had in hand there were a pulpit 
 and a heating apparatus, and also some new ranges to be placed 
 in the bishop's kitchen, which work his inspector was quite
 
 100 PIPING HOT! 
 
 competent to see after. Then, the priest promised to have the 
 matter definitely settled at the next meeting of the vestry. 
 And they both joined the group where Duveyrier was being 
 complimented on a judgment, of which he admitted himself to 
 be the author ; the presiding judge, who was his friend, re- 
 served certain easy and brilliant tasks for him, so as to bring 
 him to the fore. 
 
 " Have you read this last novel 1 ?" asked Leon, looking through 
 a number of the " Revue des Deux Moudes," lying on a table. 
 " It is well written ; but there is another adultery, it is really 
 becoming wearisome ! " 
 
 And the conversation turned upon morality. Campardou said 
 that there were some very virtuous women. All the others 
 agreed with him. Moreover, according to the architect, one 
 could- always live peacefully at home, if one only went the 
 right way about it. Theophile Vabre observed that it depended 
 on the woman, without explaining himself farther. They wished 
 to have Doctor Juillerat's opinion, but he smiled and begged to 
 be excused : he considered virtue was a question of health. 
 During this, Duveyrier had remained wrapped in thought 
 
 " Dear me ! " murmured he at length, " these authors ex- 
 aggerate ; adultery is very rare amongst educated people. A 
 woman who comes from a good family, has in her soul a 
 flower" 
 
 He was for grand sentiments, he uttered the word "ideal" 
 with an emotion which brought a mist to his eyes. And he 
 said that the Abbe Mauduit was right when the latter spoke of 
 the necessity for the wife and mother having some religious be- 
 lief. The conversation was thus brought back to religion and 
 politics, at the point where these gentlemen had previously 
 left it. The Church would never disappear, because it was the 
 foundation of all families, the same as it was the natural support 
 of governments. 
 
 "As a sort of police, perhaps it is," murmured the 
 doctor. 
 
 Duveyrier, however, did not like politics being discussed in 
 his house, and he contented himself with severely declaring, as 
 he glanced into the dining-room where Berthe and Hortense 
 were stuffing Auguste with sandwiches : 
 
 "There is one fact, gentlemen, which settles everything: 
 religion moralizes marriage." 
 
 At the same moment, Trublot, seated on a sofa beside Octave, 
 was bending towards the latter.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 101 
 
 " By the way," asked he, " would you like me to get you 
 invited to a lady's where there is plenty of amusement 1 " 
 
 And as his companion desired to know what kind of a lady, 
 he added, indicating the counsellor by a sign : 
 
 " His mistress." 
 
 " Impossible ! " said Octave in amazement. 
 
 Trublot slowly opened and closed his eyes. It was so. 
 When one married a woman who was disobliging and disgusted 
 with one's little ailments, and who strummed on her piano to 
 the point of making all the dogs of the neighbourhood ill, one 
 had to go elsewhere and be made a fool of ! 
 
 "Let us moralize marriage, gentlemen, let us moralize 
 marriage," repeated Duvevrier in his rigid way, with his in- 
 flamed face, where Octave now distinguished the foul blood of 
 secret vices. 
 
 The gentlemen were being called into the dining-room. The 
 Abbe" Mauduit, left for a moment alone in the middle of the 
 empty drawing-room, looked from a distance at the crush of 
 guests. His fat shrewd face bore an expression of sadness. He 
 who heard all those ladies, both old and young, at confession, 
 knew them all in the flesh, the same as Doctor Juillerat, and he 
 had had to end by merely watching over appearances, like a 
 master of the ceremonies throwing the mantle of religion over 
 the corruption of the middle classes, trembling at the certainty 
 of a final downfall, the day when the canker would appear in 
 all its hideousuess. At times, in his ardent and sincere faith of 
 a priest, his indignation would overcome him. But his smile re- 
 turned ; he took the cup of tea which Berthe came and offered 
 him, and conversed a minute with her so as to cover, as it were, 
 the scandal of the window, with his sacred character ; and he 
 again became the man of the world, resigned to merely insisting 
 upon a decent behaviour from those sinners, who were escaping 
 him, and who would have compromised providence. 
 
 " Well, these are fine goings-on ! " murmured Octave, whose 
 respect for the house had received another shock. 
 
 And seeing Madame Hedouin move towards the ante-room, 
 he wished to reach there before her, and followed Trublot, who 
 was also leaving. His intention was to see her home. She re- 
 fused ; it was scarcely midnight, and she lived so near. Then, 
 a rose having fallen from the bouquet at her breast, he picked 
 it up in spite and made a pretence of keeping it. The young 
 woman s beautiful eyebrows contracted ; then, she said in her 
 quiet way :
 
 102 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 " Tray open the door for me, Monsieur Octave. Thank you." 
 When she had departed, the young man, who was rather con- 
 fused, looked for Trublot. But Trublot had disappeared, the 
 same as he had done at the Josserands'. This time also he 
 must have slipped along the passage leading to the kitchen. 
 
 Octave, greatly put out, went off to his room, his rose in his 
 hand. Upstairs, he beheld Marie leaning over the balustrade, 
 at the place where he had left her ; she had been listening for 
 his footstep, and had hastened to see him come up. And when 
 she had made him enter her room, she said: 
 
 " Jules has not yet come home. Did you enjoy yourself ? 
 "Were there any pretty dresses ? " 
 
 But she did not give him time to answer. She had caught 
 sight of the rose, and was seized with a childish delight 
 
 " Is that flower for me? You have thought of me? Ah! 
 how nice of you ! how nice of you ! " 
 
 And her eyes filled with tears, she became quite confused and 
 very red. Then Octave, suddenly moved, kissed her tenderly. 
 Towards one o'clock, the Josserands withdrew in their turn. 
 Adele always left a candle and some matches on a chair. 
 When the members of the family, who had not exchanged a 
 word coming upstairs, had entered the dining-room, from whence 
 they had gone down in despair, they suddenly yielded to a mad 
 delirious joy, holding each others' hands, and dancing like sa- 
 vages round the table ; the father himself gave way to the con- 
 tagion, the mother cut capers, and the daughters uttered little 
 inarticulate cries; whilst the candle in the middle of them 
 showed up their huge shadows careering along the walls. 
 
 " At last, it is settled ! " said Madame Josserand, out of 
 breath, dropping on to a chair. 
 
 But she jumped up again at once, in a fit of maternal affec- 
 tion, and ran and imprinted two big kisses on Berthe's cheeks, 
 
 " I am very pleased, very pleased indeed with you, my dar- 
 ling. You have just rewarded me for all my efforts. My poor 
 girl, my poor girl it is true then, this time ! " 
 
 Her voice was choking, her heart was in her mouth. She 
 succumbed in her flaring dress, beneath the weight of a deep 
 and sincere emotion, suddenly overwhelmed in the hour of her 
 triumph by the fatigues of her terrible campaign which had 
 lasted three winters. Berthe had to swear that she was not ill; 
 for her mother thought she looked ill, and was full of little at- 
 tentions, almost insisting on making her a cup of infusion. 
 When the young girl was in bed, she went barefooted and care-
 
 PIPING HOT ! 103 
 
 fully tucked her in, like in the already distant days of her child- 
 hood. 
 
 Meanwhile, Monsieur Josserand, his head on his pillow, 
 awaited her. She blew out the light, and stepped over him, to 
 reach the side of the bed nearest the wall. He was wrapped in 
 thought, his uneasiness having returned, his conscience all up- 
 set by that promise of a dowry of fifty thousand francs. And 
 he ventured to mention his scruples aloud. Why make a 
 promise, when one has a doubt of being able to keep it ? It 
 was not honest. 
 
 " Not honest ! " exclaimed Madame Josserand in the dark, 
 her voice resuming its ferocious tone. " It is no thonest to let 
 your daughters become old maids, sir ; yes, old maids, such was 
 perhaps your dream ! We have plenty of time to turn about, 
 we can talk the matter over, we will end by persuading her 
 uncle. And understand, sir, that in my family, we have always 
 been honest ! "
 
 104 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 ON the morrow, which was a Sunday, Octave with his eyes 
 open lay thinking for an hour in the warmth of the sheets. 
 He awoke happy, full of the lucidity of the morning laziness. 
 What need was there to hurry ? He was very comfortable at 
 "The Ladies' Paradise," he was there losing all his provincial 
 ways, and he had an absolute and profound conviction of one 
 day possessing Madame Hedouin, who would make his fortune ; 
 but it was an affair that required prudence, a long series of 
 gallant tactics, which his voluptuous passion for women was 
 already enjoying by anticipation. As he was dozing off again, 
 forming his plans, allowing himself six months to succeed in, 
 Marie Pichon's image resulted in calming his impatience. A 
 woman like that was a real boon ; he h<xd merely to stretch 
 out his arm, when he reqiiired her, and she did not cost him a 
 sou. Whilst awaiting the other, he could certainly not hope 
 for anything better. In his half-slumber, this bargain and this 
 convenience ended by making him quite tender-hearted : she 
 appeared to him very nice and pretty with all her good-nature, 
 and he promised himself he would behave better to her in 
 future. 
 
 " Hang it ! nine o'clock ! " said he thoroughly roused by his 
 clock striking. " I mnst get up." 
 
 A fine rain was falling. Then, he made up his mind not to 
 go out all day. He would accept an invitation to dine with the 
 Pichons, which he had been refusing for some time past, dread- 
 ing another meeting with the Vuiliaumes ; it would please 
 Marie, he would find opportunities of kissing her behind the 
 doors; and, as she was always asking for books, he even 
 thought of giving her the surprise of a quantity which he had, 
 stowed away in one of his boxes in the loft. When he was 
 dressed, he went down to Monsieur Gourd to get the key of 
 this common loft, where all the tenants got rid of what-
 
 PIPING HOT ! 105 
 
 ever things were in their way, or which they had no present 
 use for. 
 
 Down below, on that damp morning, it was quite stifling in 
 the heated staircase, the imitation marble, the tall looking- 
 glasses, and the mahogany doors of which were covered with 
 steam. Under the porch, a poorly clad woman, mother Perou, 
 to whom the Gourds paid four sous an hour for doing the heavy 
 work of the house, was washing the pavement with plenty of 
 water, in face of the icy-cold blast blowing from the court- 
 yard. 
 
 "Eh ! I say old 'un, just rub that a bit better, that I may 
 not find a spot on it i " called out Monsieur Gourd, warmly 
 covered up, standing on the threshold of his apartment. 
 
 And, Octave arriving, he talked to him of mother Perou with 
 the brutal domineering spirit, the mad mania for revenge, of 
 former servants who were being served in their turn. 
 
 " A lazy creature that I can do nothing with ! I should like 
 to have seen her at the duke's ! Ah well ! they stood no 
 nonsense there ! I'll send her to the right about, if she doesn't 
 give me my money's worth ! That's all I care about. But, excuse 
 me, what is it you require, Monsieur Mouret ? " 
 
 Octave asked for the key. Then the doorkeeper, without 
 hurrying himself, continued to explain to him that, if they had 
 chosen, Madame Gourd and he, they might have lived respect- 
 ably in their own house, at Mort-la-Ville; only, Madame Gourd 
 adored Paris, in spite of her swollen legs which prevented her 
 getting as far as the pavement ; and they were waiting until 
 they had made their income into a round sum, their hearts 
 almost breaking moreover and drawing back, each time that 
 they felt a desire to go and live at last upon the little fortune 
 which they had got together sou by sou. 
 
 " No one had better bother me," concluded he, drawing him- 
 self up to the full height of his handsome figure. " I'm no 
 longer working for a living. The key of the loft you said, did 
 you not, Monsieur Mouret 1 Wherever have we put the key of 
 the loft, my dear ? " 
 
 Madame Gourd, tenderly seated before a wood fire, the flames 
 of which enlivened the big light room, was drinking her coffee 
 and milk out of a silver cup. She had no idea ; perhaps in one 
 of the drawers. And, whilst soaking her toast, she did not 
 take her eyes off the door of the servants' staircase, at the 
 other end of the courtyard, looking barer and severer than ever 
 in the rain.
 
 106 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 " Look out ! here she is ! " said she suddenly, as a woman 
 appeared in the doorway. 
 
 Monsieur Gourd at once went and placed himself before his 
 room, so as to prevent the woman from passing, whilst she 
 slackened her footsteps with an air of anxiety. 
 
 " We have been on the look-out for her since the first thing 
 this morning, Monsieur Mouret," resumed he, in a low voice. 
 " Last night we saw her pass. You know she comes from that 
 carpenter, upstairs, the only workman we have in the house, 
 thank goodness ! And if the landlord only listened to me, he 
 would let the room remain empty, a servant's room which does 
 not go with the other apartments. For one hundred and thirty 
 francs a year, it is really not worth while having such a scum 
 in the place " 
 
 He interrupted himself, to ask the woman roughly : 
 
 " Where do you come from ] " 
 
 " From upstairs, of course !" answered she, walking on. 
 
 Then, he exploded. 
 
 " We'll have no women here, understand ! The man who 
 brings you has already been told so. If you return here to 
 sleep, I'll fetch a policeman, that's what I'll do ! and we'll see 
 if you'll continue your goings-on in a respectable house ! " 
 
 " Oh ! don't bother me ! " said the woman. " I've a right 
 here ; I shall come if I choose." 
 
 And she went off, followed by Monsieur Gourd's indignation, 
 as he talked of going up to fetch the landlord. Had any one 
 ever heard the like ! such a creature amongst respectable people, 
 who did not tolerate the least immorality ! And it seemed as 
 though that little room occupied by a workman was the abomi- 
 nation of the house, a bad place, the supervision of which 
 offended the doorkeeper's delicacy and spoilt his rest at night. 
 
 " And that key ! " Octave ventured to observe. 
 
 But the doorkeeper, furious at a tenant's having been able to 
 see his authority disputed, fell on mother P^rou, wishing to 
 show that he knew how to make himself obeyed. Did she take 
 him for a fool ? She had again splashed the door of h:s room 
 with her broom. If he paid her out of his own pocket, it was 
 to save him from dirtying his hands, and yet he continually 
 had to clean up after her. Might the devil take him if he was 
 ever again charitable enough to have anything more to do with 
 her ! she could go and croak. Without answering, and bent 
 double by the fatigue of this task so much above her strength, 
 the old body continued to scrub with her skinny arms, struggling
 
 PIPING HOT ! 107 
 
 to keep back her tears, so great was the respectful fright that 
 broad shouldered gentleman in cap and slippers caused her. 
 
 " I remember, my darling," called Madame Gourd from her 
 easy chair in which she passed the day, warming her fat person. 
 " It was I who hid the key under the shirts, so that the 
 servants should not be always going into the loft. Come, give 
 it to Monsieur Mouret." 
 
 "They're a nice lot, too, those servants !" murmured Monsieur 
 Gourd, who, from his many years in service, had preserved a 
 hatred for menials. " Here is the key, sir ; but I must ask 
 you to bring it me back, for no place can be left open, without 
 the servants getting in there and misconducting themselves." 
 
 To save crossing the wet courtyard, Octave went back up the 
 principal staircase. It was not till he had reached the fourth 
 floor that he gained the servants' staircase, by taking the door 
 of communication that was close to his room. Up above, a 
 long passage was intersected twice at right angles, it was painted 
 pale yellow with a dado of darker ochre ; and the doors of the 
 servants' rooms, also yellow, were uniform and placed at equai 
 distances, the same as in the corridor of a hospital. An icy 
 chill came from the zinc roof. All was bare and clean, with 
 that unsavoury odour of the lodgings of the poor. 
 
 The loft overlooking the courtyard was in the right wing, at 
 the further end. But Octave, who had not been there since 
 the day of his arrival, was going along the left wing, when, 
 suddenly, a spectacle which he beheld inside one of the rooms, 
 by the partly open door, brought him to a standstill and filled 
 him with amazement. A gentleman was standing in his shirt 
 sleeves before a little looking-glass, tying his white cravat. 
 
 " What ! you here ? " said he. 
 
 It was Trublot. He also, at first, stood as one petrified. 
 No one ever came near there at that hour. Octave, who had 
 walked in, looked at him in that room with its narrow iron 
 bedstead, and its washstand on which a little bundle of woman's 
 hair was floating on the soapy water ; and, perceiving the black 
 dress coat hanging up amongst some aprons, he could not 
 restrain himself from saying : 
 
 " So you sleep with the cook ? " 
 
 " Not at all ! " replied Trublot, in a fright. 
 
 Then, recognising the stupidity of this lie, he began to laugh 
 in his convinced and satisfied way. 
 
 " Eh ! she is amusing ! I assure you, my dear fellow, it is 
 wfully fine ! "
 
 108 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 Whenever he dined out, he escaped from the drawing-room 
 to go and pinch the cook before her stove ; and when she was 
 willing to trust him with her key, he would take his departure 
 before midnight, and go and wait patiently for her in her room, 
 seated on a trunk, in his black dress coat and white tie. On 
 the morrow, he would leave by the principal staircase towards 
 ten o'clock, and pass before the doorkeeper as though he had 
 been making an early call on one of the tenants. So long as he 
 was pretty punctual at the stockbroker's, his father was satisfied. 
 Moreover, he was now employed in attending the Bourse from 
 twelve to three. It would sometimes happen that on a Sunday 
 he would spend the whole day in some servant's bed, happy, 
 lost, his nose buried in the pillow. 
 
 " You, who are going to be so rich some day ! "said Octave, 
 his face retaining an expression of disgust. 
 
 Then Trublot learnedly declared : 
 
 " My dear fellow, you don't know what it is ; don't speak 
 about it." 
 
 And he stood up for Julie, a tall Burgundian of forty, with 
 her big face pitted with small-pox, but who had the body of a 
 superb woman. One might disrobe the ladies of the house ; 
 they were all sticks, not one would come up to her knee. 
 Besides that, she was a girl very well to do ; and to prove it he 
 opened her drawers, displayed a bonnet, some jewellery, and 
 some chemises trimmed with lace, no doubt stolen from Madame 
 Duveyrier. Octave, indeed, now noticed a certain coquettish- 
 ness about the room, some gilded cardboard boxes on the 
 drawers, a chintz curtain hung over the skirts, all the accessories 
 of a cook aping the grand lady. 
 
 " There is no denying, you see, that one may own to this 
 one," repeated Trublot. " If they were only all like her ! " 
 
 At this moment a noise came from the servants' staircase. 
 It was Adele coming up to wash her ears, Madame Josserand 
 having furiously forbidden her to proceed with her work until 
 she had cleaned them with soap. Trublot peeped out and re- 
 cognised her. 
 
 " Shut the door quick ! " said he very anxiously. " Hush ! 
 don't say a word ! " 
 
 He pricked up his ear, and listened to Adele's heavy footstep 
 along the passage. 
 
 " You sleep with her too, then 1 " asked Octave, surprised at 
 his paleness, and guessing that he dreaded a scene. 
 
 But this time Trublot was coward enough to deny.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 109 
 
 " Oh ! no indeed ! not with that slut ! Whoever do you take 
 me for, my dear fellow 1 " 
 
 He had seated himself on the edge of the bed, and while 
 waiting to finish dressing, begged Octave not to move ; and 
 both remained perfectly still, whilst that filthy Adele scoured 
 out her ears, which took at least ten good minutes. They heard 
 the tempest in her washhand basin. 
 
 "There is, however, a room between this one and hers," 
 softly explained Trublot, " a room that is let to a workman, a 
 carpenter who stinks the place out with his onion soup. This 
 morning again, it almost made me sick. And you know, in all 
 houses, the partitions of the servants' rooms are now almost as 
 thin as sheets of paper. I don't understand the landlords. It 
 is not very decent, one can scarcely turn in one's bed. I think 
 it very inconvenient." 
 
 When Adele had gone down again, he resumed his swagger 
 and finished dressing himself, making free use of Julie's combs 
 and pomatum. Octave having spoken of the loft, he insisted 
 on taking him there, for he knew the most out-of-the-way corner 
 of that floor. And, as he passed the doors, he familiarly men- 
 tioned the servants' names : in this bit of a passage, after Adele 
 came Lisa, the Campardons' maid, a wench who took her plea- 
 sures outside ; then, Victoire, their cook, a stranded whale, 
 seventy years old, the only one he respected ; then, Frangoise, 
 who had entered Madame Valerie's service the day before, and 
 whose trunk would perhaps only remain twenty-four hours be- 
 hind the meagre bed upon which such a gallop of maids passed, 
 that it was always necessary to make inquiries before going 
 there and waiting in the warmth of the blanket ; then, a quiet 
 couple, in the service of the people on the second floor; then, 
 these people's coachman, a strapping fellow of whom he spoke 
 with the jealousy of a handsome man, suspecting him of going 
 from door to door and noiselessly doing some very fine work ; 
 finally, at the other end of the passage, there were Clemence, 
 the Duveyriers' maid, whom her neighbour Hippolyte, the 
 butler, rejoined matrimonially every night, and little Louise, 
 the orphan whom Madame Juzeur had taken on trial, a chit of 
 fifteen, who must hear some very strange things in the small 
 hours, if she were a light sleeper. 
 
 "My dear fellow, don't lock the door, do this to oblige me," 
 said he to Octave, when he had helped him to take the books 
 from the box. " You see, when the loft is open, one can hide 
 there and wait."
 
 110 PIPING HOT! 
 
 Octave, having consented to deceive Monsieur Gourd, returned 
 with Trublot to Julie's room. The young man had left his 
 overcoat there. Then it was his gloves that he could not find ; 
 he shook the skirts, overturned the bed-clothes, raised such a 
 dust and such an odour of soiled linen, that his companion, 
 half-suffocated, opened the window. It looked on to the 
 narrow inner courtyard, which gave light to all the kitchens. 
 And he was stretching out his head over this damp well, which 
 exhaled the greasy odours of dirty sinks, when a sound of voices 
 made him hastily withdraw. 
 
 " The little morning gossip," said Trublot on all fours under 
 the bed, still searching. " Just listen to it." 
 
 It was Lisa, who was leaning out of the window of the Cam- 
 pardons' kitchen to speak to Julie, two storeys below her. 
 
 " So it's come off then this time ?" 
 
 "It seems so," replied Julie, raising her head. " You see, she 
 did all she could to catch him. Hippolyte came from the 
 drawing-room so disgusted, that he almost had an attack of in- 
 digestion." 
 
 ' If we were only to do a quarter as much ! " resumed Lisa. 
 
 But she disappeared a moment, to drink some broth that 
 Victoire brought her. They got on well together, nursing each 
 other's vices, the maid hiding the cook's drunkenness, and the 
 cook facilitating the maid's outings, from which the latter re- 
 turned quite worn out, her limbs aching, her eyelids blue. 
 
 " Ah ! my children," said Victoire leaning out in her turn, 
 her elbows touching Lisa's, "you're young. When you've seen 
 what I've seen ! At old Campardon's, there was a niece who 
 had been well brought up, and who used to go and look at the 
 men through the key-hole." 
 
 " Pretty goings-on ! " murmured Julie with the horrified air 
 of a lady. " Had I been in the place of the little one of the 
 fourth floor, I'd have boxed Monsieur Auguste's ears, if he'd 
 touched me in the drawing-room ! He's a fine fellow ! " 
 
 At these words, a shrill laugh issued from Madame Juzeur's 
 kitchen. Lisa, who was opposite, searched the room with a 
 glance, and caught sight of Louise, whose precocious fifteen 
 years took a delight in listening to the other servants. 
 
 " She's spying on us from morning to night, the chit," said 
 she. " How stupid it is to thrust a child upon us! We sha'n't 
 be able .to talk at all soon." 
 
 She did not finish. The sound of a suddenly opened window 
 chased them away. A profound silence ensued. But they ven- '
 
 PIPING HOT ! Ill 
 
 tured to look out again. Eh ! what ! what was the matter ? 
 They had thought that Madame Valerie or Madame Josserand 
 was going to catch them. 
 
 " No fear ! " resumed Lisa. " They're all soaking ia their 
 washhand basins. They're too busy with their skins, to think 
 of bothering us. It's the only moment in all the day when one 
 can breathe freely." 
 
 " So it still goes on the same at your place ? " asked Julie, 
 who was paring a carrot. 
 
 " Still the same," replied Victoire. " It's all over, she's 
 no more use." 
 
 "But your big noodle of an architect, what does he do then?" 
 
 " Takes up with the cousin, of course ! " 
 
 They were laughing louder than ever, when they beheld the 
 new servant, Fran9oise, in Madame Valerie's kitchen. It was 
 she who had caused the alarm, by opening the window. At 
 first there was an exchange of politeness. 
 
 " Ah ! it's you, mademoiselle." 
 
 "Why, yes, mademoiselle. I am trying to make myself at 
 home, but this kitchen is so filthy ! " 
 
 Then came scraps of abominable information. 
 
 " You will be more than constant, if you remain there long. 
 The last one had her arms all scratched by the child, and 
 madame worked her so hard, that we could hear her crying 
 from here." 
 
 " Ah well ! that won't last long with me," said Fran9oise. 
 " Thanks all the same, mademoiselle." 
 
 " Where is she, your missus 1 " asked Victoire curiously. 
 
 " She's just gone off to lunch with a lady." 
 
 Lisa and Julie stretched their necks, to exchange a glance. 
 They knew her well, the lady. A funny sort of lunch, with 
 her head down and her feet in the air ! Was it possible, to lie 
 to that extent ! They did not pity the husband, for he deserved 
 more than that ; only, it was a disgrace to humanity, that a 
 woman should not behave herself better. 
 
 ' There's Dish-cloth ! " interrupted Lisa, discovering the Jos- 
 serands' servant overhead. 
 
 Then a host of vulgar expressions were bawled from the 
 depths of this hole, as obscure and infected as a sewer. All, 
 with their faces raised, violently yelled at Adele, who was their 
 butt, the dirty awkward creature on whom the entire household 
 vented their spite. 
 
 " Hallo ! she's washed herself, it's evident ! "
 
 *12 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 " Just throw yoiir fish bones into the yard again, and I'll 
 come up and rub 'em in your face ! " 
 
 Thoroughly bewildered, Adele looked down upon them from 
 above, her body half out of the window. She ended by answer- 
 ing: 
 
 " Leave me alone, can't you ? or I'll water you." 
 But the yells and the laughter increased. 
 " You married your young mistress, last night, didn't you] 
 Eh ! it's you, perhaps, who teach her how to hook the men ? " 
 
 " ( Ah ! the heartless thing ! she stops in a place where they 
 don't give you enough to eat ! On my word, it's that which 
 exasperates me against her ! You're such a fool, you should 
 send 'ern to blazes ! " 
 
 Adele's eyes filled with tears. 
 
 " You can only talk nonsense," stammered she. " It's not 
 my fault if I don't get enough to eat." 
 
 And the voices swelled, unpleasant words commenced to be 
 exchanged between Lisa and the new servant, Frangoise, who 
 stuck up for Adele, when the latter, forgetting the abuse 
 heaped upon her, and yielding to party instinct, called out : 
 " Look out ! here's madame ! " 
 
 The silence of the tomb ensued. They all immediately 
 plunged back into their kitchens ; and from the dark chasm of 
 the narrow courtyard all that ascended was the stench of the 
 dirty sinks, like the exhalation of the hidden abominations of 
 the families, stirred up there by the spite of the hirelings. It 
 was the sewer of the house, the shames of which it carried off, 
 whilst the masters were still lounging in their slippers, and the 
 grand staircase unfolded the solemnity of its flights, in the 
 silent suffocation- of the hot air stove. Octave recalled the 
 blast of uproar he received full in the face, when enterin^ the 
 Campardons' kitchen, the day of his arrival. 
 " They are very nice," said he simply. 
 
 And, leaning out in his turn, he looked at the walls, as though 
 annoyed at not having at once read through them, behind the 
 imitation marble and the mouldings bright with gilding. 
 
 " Where the devil has she stowed them away ? " repeated 
 Trublot who had searched everywhere for his white kid gloves. 
 At length, he discovered them at the bottom of the bed it- 
 self, flattened out and quite warm. He gave a last glance in 
 the glass, went and hid the key in the place agreed upon, right 
 at the end of the passage, underneath an old sideboard left Ibe- 
 hiud by some lodger, and led the way downstairs, accompanied
 
 PIPING HOT! 113 
 
 by Octave. After passing the Josserands' door, on the grand 
 staircase, he recovered all his assurance, with his overcoat but- 
 toned up to the neck to hide his dress clothes and white tie. 
 
 " Good-bye, my dear fellow," said he raising his voice. " I 
 felt anxious, so I just looked in to hear how the ladies were. 
 They passed a very good night. Good-bye." 
 
 Octave watched him with a smile as he went downstairs. 
 Then, as it was almost lunch time, he decided to return the key 
 of the loft later on. During lunch, at the Campardons', he par- 
 ticularly watched Lisa, who waited at table. She had her usual 
 clean and agreeable look ; but, in his mind, he could still hear 
 her defiling her lips with the most abominable words. His 
 knowledge of women had not deceived him with respect to that 
 girl with the flat chest. Madame Campardon continued to be 
 enchanted with her, surprised that she did not steal anything, 
 which was a fact, for her vice was of a different kind. More- 
 over, the girl seemed very kind to Angele, and the mother 
 entirely trusted her. 
 
 It so happened, that on that day Angele disappeared when 
 the dessert was placed on the table, and she could be heard 
 laughing in the kitchen. Octave ventured to make an obser- 
 vation. 
 
 "You are perhaps wrong, to let her be so free with the 
 servants." 
 
 " Oh ! there is not much harm in it," replied Madame Cam- 
 pardon, in her languid way. " Victoire saw my husband born, 
 and I am so sure of Lisa. Besides, how can I help it ? the 
 child gives me a headache. I should go crazy, if I heard her 
 jumping about me all day." 
 
 The architect gravely chewed the end of his cigar. 
 
 " It is I," said he, " who make Angele pass two hours in the 
 kitchen, every afternoon. I wish her to become a good house- 
 wife. It teaches her a great deal. She never goes out, my 
 dear fellow, she is continually under our sheltering wing. 
 You will see what a jewel we shall make of her." 
 
 Octave said no more. On certain days, Campai'don appeared 
 to him to be very stupid ; and as the architect pressed him to 
 go and hear a great preacher at Saint-Koch, he refused, obstin- 
 ately persisting in remaining indoors. After telling Madame 
 Campardon that he would not dine with them that evening, he 
 was returning to his room, when he felt the key of the loft in 
 his pocket. He preferred to go down and return it at once. 
 
 But on the lauding an unexpected sight attracted his atten 
 
 H
 
 114 PIPING HOT! 
 
 tion. The door of the room let to the highly distinguished 
 gentleman, whose name was never mentioned, happened to be 
 open ; and this was quite an event, for it was invariably shut, 
 as though barred by the silence of the tomb. His surprise in- 
 creased : he was looking for the gentleman's work-table, and in 
 its stead had discovered the corner of a big bedstead, when he 
 beheld a slim lady dressed in black, her face hidden behind a 
 thick veil, come out of the room, whilst the door closed noise- 
 lessly behind her. 
 
 Then, his curiosity being roused, he followed the lady down- 
 stairs, to find out if she were pretty. But she hastened along 
 with an anxious nimbleness, scarcely touching the Wilton car- 
 pet with her tiny boots, and leaving no trace in the house, save 
 a faint odour of verbena. As he reached the vestibule, she dis- 
 appeared, and he only beheld Monsieur Gourd standing under 
 the porch, cap in hand and bowing very low to her. 
 
 When the young man had returned the dooi'keeper his key, 
 he tried to make him talk. 
 
 " She looks very lady-like," said he. " Who is she ? " 
 
 " A lady," answered Monsieur Gourd. 
 
 And he would add nothing further. But he was more com- 
 municative regarding the gentleman on the third floor. Oh ! 
 a man belonging to the very best society, who had taken that 
 room to come and work there quietly, one night a week. 
 
 " Ah ! he works ! " interrupted Octave. " What at, pray 1 " 
 
 " He was kind enough to ask me to keep his room tidy for 
 him," continued Monsieur Gourd, without appearing to have 
 heard the question. " And, you know, he pays money down. 
 Ah ! sir, when one waits on people, one soon knows whether 
 they are decent. He is everything that is most respectable : it 
 is easily seen by his clothes." 
 
 He was obliged to jump on one side, and Octave himself had 
 to enter the doorkeepers' room for a moment, in order to let 
 the carriage of the second floor people, who were going to the 
 Bois, pass. The horses pawed the ground, held back by the 
 coachman the reins high ; and, when the big closed landau 
 rolled under the vaulted roof, one beheld through the windows 
 two handsome children, whose smiling faces almost hid the 
 vague profiles of the father and mother. Monsieur Gourd 
 drew himself up, polite, but cold. 
 
 "They don't make much noise in the house," observed 
 Octave. 
 
 "No one makes any noise," said the doorkeeper, curtly.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 115 
 
 " Each one lives as he thinks best, that's all. There are people 
 who know how to live, and there are people who don't know 
 how to live." 
 
 The second floor tenants were judged severely, because they 
 associated with no one. They appeared to be well off, however ; 
 but the husband wrote books, and Monsieur Gourd mistrusted 
 him, curling his lip with contempt ; more especially as no one 
 knew what the family was up to in there, with its air of re- 
 quiring nobody, and being always perfectly happy. It did not 
 seem to him natiiral. 
 
 Octave was opening the vestibule door, when Vale'rie re- 
 turned. He drew politely on one side, to allow her to pass 
 before him. 
 
 " Are you quite well, madame 1 " 
 
 " Yes, sir, thank you." 
 
 She was out of breath; and as she went upstairs he looked 
 at her muddy boots, thinking of that lunch, with her head 
 down and her feet in the air, which the servants had spoken of. 
 She had no doubt walked home, not having been able to find a 
 cab. A hot unsavoury odour came from her damp skirts. 
 Fatigue, a placid weariness of all her flesh, made her at times, 
 in spite of herself, place her hand on the balustrade. 
 
 " What a disagreeable day, is it not, madame ? " 
 
 " Frightful, sir. And, with that, the atmosphere is very 
 close." 
 
 She had reached the first-floor landing, and they bowed to 
 each other. But, with a glance, he had seen her haggard face, 
 her eyelids heavy with sleep, her unkempt hair beneath the 
 bonnet tied on in haste ; and as he continued on his way up- 
 stairs, he reflected, annoyed and angry. Then, why not with 
 him 1 He was neither more stupid nor uglier than the 
 others. 
 
 When before Madame Juzeur's door, on the third floor, his 
 promise of the evening before recurred to him. He felt 
 curious about that little woman, so discreet and with eyes like 
 periwinkles. He rang. It was Madame Juzeur herself who 
 answered the door. 
 
 " Ah ! dear sir, how kind of you ! Pray walk in." 
 
 There was a softness about the lodging which smelt a bit 
 stuffy : carpets and hangings everywhere, seats as yielding as 
 down, with the warm unruffled atmosphere of a chest padded 
 with old rainbow coloured satin. In the drawing-room, to 
 which the double curtains imparted the peacefulness of a
 
 116 MPING HOT 
 
 church, Octave was invited to seat himself on a broad aud very 
 low sofa. 
 
 " Here is the lace," resumed Madame Juzeur, reappearing 
 with a sandal-wood box full of finery. " I am going to make a 
 present of it to some one, and I am curious to know its 
 value." 
 
 It was a piece of very fine old Brussels. Octave examined it 
 carefully, and ended by valuing it at three hundred francs. 
 Then, without waiting further, as their hands were both hand- 
 ling the lace, he bent forward and kissed her fingers, fingers as 
 delicate as a little girl's. 
 
 " Oh ! Monsieur Octave, at my age ! you cannot think what 
 you are doing ! " murmured Madame Juzeur, prettily, without 
 getting angry. 
 
 She was thirty-two, and pretended she was quite old. And 
 she made her usual allusion to her misfortunes ; good heavens! 
 yes, after ten days of married bliss, the cruel man had gone off 
 one morning and had not returned, nobody had ever discovered 
 why. 
 
 "You can understand," continued she, gazing up at the 
 ceiling, " that all is over for the woman who has gone through 
 this." 
 
 Octave had kept hold of her little warm hand which seemed 
 to mould itself to his, and he continued kissing it lightly, on 
 the fingers. She turned her eyes towards him, and gazed upon 
 him with a vague and tender look ; then, hi a maternal way, 
 she uttered this single word : 
 
 Child ! " 
 
 Thinking himself encouraged, he wished to take her round 
 the waist, and draw her on to the sofa ; but she freed herself 
 without any violence, and slipped from his arms, laughing, and 
 with an air of thinking that he was merely playing. 
 
 " No, leave me alone, do not touch me, if you wish that we 
 should remain good friends." 
 
 " Then, no ? " asked he in a low voice. 
 
 "What, no] What do you mean 1 Oh ! my hand, as much 
 as you like ! " 
 
 He had again taken hold of her hand. But, this time, 
 he opened it, kissing it on the palm ; and, her eyes half closed, 
 treating the little game as a joke, she opened her fingers like a 
 cat spreads out its claws to be tickled inside its paw. She 
 did not let him go farther than the wrist The first day, a 
 sacred line was drawn there, where harm began.
 
 PIPING HOT 1 117 
 
 "The priest is coming upstairs," Louise suddenly entered 
 and said, on returning from some errand. 
 
 The orphan had the yellow complexion, and the squashed 
 features of girls forgotten on doorsteps. She burst into an 
 idiotic laugh on beholding the gentleman eating, as she 
 thought, out of her mistress's hand. But at a glance from the 
 latter, she hastened away. 
 
 " I greatly fear I shall never be able to do anything with 
 her," resumed Madame Juzeur. " However, it is only right to 
 try and put oue of those poor souls into the straight path. 
 Come this way, if you please, Monsieur Mouret." 
 
 She conducted him to the dining-room, so as to leave the 
 drawing-room to the priest, whom Louise ushered in. She in- 
 vited Octave to come again and have a chat. It would be a 
 little company for her ; she was always so sad and so lonely ! 
 Happily, religion consoled her. 
 
 That evening, towards five o'clock, Octave experienced a real 
 relief in making himself comfortable at the Pichons'whilstwaiting 
 for dinner. The house bewildered him somewhat ; after hav- 
 ing allowed himself to be impressed with a provincial's respect, 
 in the face of the rich solemnity of the staircase, he was gliding 
 to an exaggerated contempt for what he thought he could guess 
 took place behind the high mahogany doors. He was quite at 
 sea ; it seemed to him now that those middle-class women, 
 whose virtue had frozen him at first, should yield at a sign ; 
 and, when one of them resisted, he was filled with surprise and 
 rancour. 
 
 Marie blushed with joy on seeing him place the pile of books 
 which he had fetched for her in the morning on the sideboard. 
 She kept saying, 
 
 " How nice of you, Monsieur Octave ! Oh ! thank you, thank 
 you ! And how kind to come early ! Will you have a glass of 
 sugar and water with some cognac 1 It assists the appetite." 
 
 He accepted, just to please her. Everything appeared 
 pleasant to him, even Pichon and the Vuillaumes, who con- 
 versed round the table, slowly mumbling over again their usual 
 Sunday conversation. Marie, now and again, ran to the 
 kitchen, where she was cooking a boned shoulder of mutton ; 
 and he dared in a chaffing way to follow her, seizing hold of 
 her before the stove, and kissing her on the nape of her neck. 
 She, without a cry and without a start, turned round and kissed 
 him in her turn on the mouth, with lips which were always 
 cold. This coolness seemed delicious to the young man.
 
 118 PIPING HOT 
 
 " Well, and your new Minister ? " asked he of Pichon, on re- 
 turning into the room. 
 
 But the clerk gave a start. Ah ! there was going to be a 
 new Minister of Public Instruction ! He knew nothing of it ; 
 no one ever troubled about that at the Ministry. 
 
 " The weather is so bad ! " he abruptly remarked. " It is 
 quite impossible to keep one's trousers clean ! " 
 
 Madame Vuillaume talked of a girl at Batignolles who had 
 gone to the bad. 
 
 " You will scarcely believe me, sir," said she. " She had 
 been exceedingly well brought up ; but she felt so bored at her 
 parents', that she had twice tried to throw herself into the 
 street. It is incredible ! " 
 
 " They should have put bars on the windows," said Monsieur 
 Vuillaume simply. 
 
 The dinner was delightful. This kind of conversation lasted 
 all the time around the modest board lighted by a little lamp. 
 Pichon and Monsieur Vuillaume, having got on to the staff of 
 the Ministry, did nothing but talk of head-clerks and second 
 head-clerks ; the father-in-law obstinately alluded to those of 
 his time, then recollected that they were dead ; whilst, on his 
 side, the son-in-law continued to speak of the new ones, in the 
 midst of an inextricable confusion of names. The two men, 
 however, as well as Madame Vuillaume, agreed on one point : 
 fat Chavignat, he who had such an ugly wife, had gone in for a 
 great deal too many children. It was absurd for a man of his 
 position. And Octave smiled, feeling happy and at his ease ; 
 he had not spent such an agreeable evening for a long time ; he 
 even ended by blaming Chavignat with conviction. Marie 
 quieted him with her clear, innocent look, devoid of emotion at 
 seeing him seated beside her husband, helping them both ac- 
 cording to their tastes, with her rather tired air of passive 
 obedience. 
 
 Punctually at ten o'clock, the Vuillaumes rose to take their 
 departure. Pichon put on his hat. Every Sunday he saw them 
 to the omnibus. Out of deference, he had got into the habit 
 about the time of his marriage, and the Vuillaumes would have 
 been deeply offended had he now tried to give it up. All three 
 made for the Rue de Richelieu, then walked slowly up it, 
 searching with a glance the Batignolles omnibuses which kept 
 passing full, so that Pichon often went thus as far as Mont- 
 martre ; for he would never have thought of leaving his father 
 and mother-in-law before seeing them into an omnibus. As they
 
 PIPING HOT ! 119 
 
 could not wal'; fast, it took him close upon two hours to go 
 there and back. 
 
 They exchanged some friendly handshakes on the landing. 
 Octave, on returning to the room with Marie, said quietly, 
 
 " It rains ; Jules will not get back before midnight." 
 
 And, as Lilitte had been put to bed early, he at once took 
 Marie on his knees, and drank the rest of the coffee with her 
 out of the same cup, like a husband glad at having got rid of 
 his guests and at finding himself again in the quiet of his home, 
 excited by a little family gathering, and able to kiss his wife at 
 his ease, with the doors closed. A pleasant warmth filled the 
 narrow room, where some frosted eggs had left an odour of 
 vanilla. He was gently kissing the young woman under the 
 chin, when some one knocked. Marie did not even give a start 
 of affright. It was young Josserand, he who was a bit cracked. 
 Whenever he could escape from the apartment opposite, he 
 would come in this way to chat with her, attracted by her 
 gentleness ; and they both got on well together, remaining ten 
 minutes at a time without speaking, exchanging at distant in- 
 tervals phrases which had no connection with each other. 
 
 Octave, very much put out, remained silent. 
 
 " They've some people there," stuttered Saturnin. " I don't 
 care a hang for their not letting me dine with them ! So I 
 took the lock off and bolted. It serves them right." 
 
 " They will be anxious ; you ought to go back," said Marie, 
 who noticed Octave's impatience. 
 
 But the idiot laughed with delight. Then, with his embar- 
 rassed speech, he related what took place in his home. He 
 seemed to come each time for the sake of thus relieving his 
 memory. 
 
 " Papa worked all night again. Mamma slapped Berthe. I 
 say, when people get married, does it hurt ? " 
 
 And, as Marie did not reply, becoming excited, he continued : 
 
 "I won't go to the country; I won't. If they only touch 
 hei 1 , I'll strangle them ; it's easy to do in the night, when they're 
 asleep. The palm of her hand is as soft as note-paper. But, 
 you know, the other is a beast of a girl " 
 
 He recommenced, got more muddled still, and did not suc- 
 ceed in expressing what he had come to say. Marie, at length, 
 made him return to his parents, without his even having 
 noticed Octave's presence. 
 
 Then the latter, through fear of being again disturbed, 
 wanted to take the young woman into his own room. But she
 
 120 PIPING HOT! 
 
 refused, her cheeks suddenly becoming scarlet. He, not under- 
 standing this bashfuliiess, said that they would be sure to hear 
 Jules coming up, and that she would have time to slip into her 
 room ; and as he drew her along, she became quite angry, with 
 the indignation of a woman to whom violence is being offered. 
 
 " No, not in your room, never ! It would be too wrong. Let 
 us remain here." 
 
 And she ran to the farthest end of her room. Octave was 
 still on the landing, surprised at this unexpected resistance, 
 when the sounds of a violent altercation ascended from the 
 courtyard. Really, everything seemed to be against him, he 
 would have done better to have gone off to bed. Such an uproar 
 was so unusual at that late hour, that he ended by opening a 
 window, to hear what was going on. Monsieur Gourd, down 
 below, was shouting out : 
 
 " I tell you, you shall not pass ! The landlord has been sent 
 for, He, will come and turn you out himself." 
 
 " What ! turn me out ! " replied a thick voice. " Don't I pay 
 my rent ? Pass, Amelie, and if the gentleman touches you, we'll 
 have something to laugh at ! " 
 
 It was the workman from upstairs, who had returned with 
 the woruan sent away in the morning. Octave leant out ; but, 
 in the black hole of the courtyard, he could only distinguish 
 some big moving shadows in a ray of gaslight from the vesti- 
 bule. 
 
 " Monsieur Vabre ! Monsieur Vabre ! " called the doorkeeper 
 in urgent tones, as the carpenter shoved him aside. " Quick, 
 quick, she is coming in ! " 
 
 In spite of her poor legs, Madame Gourd had gone to fetch 
 the landlord, who was just then at work on his great task. He 
 was coming down. Octave could hear him furiously repeating : 
 
 " It is scandalous ! it is disgraceful ! I will never allow such 
 a thing in my house ! " 
 
 And, addressing the workman, whom his presence seemed at 
 first to intimidate : 
 
 " Send that woman away, at once, at once. You hear me ! 
 we will have no women brought to the house." 
 
 ^ But she's my wife ! " replied the workman in a scared way. 
 " She is out at service, she comes once a month, when her people 
 allow her to. What a fuss ! It isn't you who'll prevent me 
 sleeping with my wife, I suppose ! " 
 
 At these words, the doorkeeper and the landlord quite lest 
 their heads.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 121 
 
 " I give you notice to quit," stuttered Monsieur Vabre. " And, 
 in the meantime, I forbid you to take niy premises for what 
 they are not. Gourd, turn that creature out on to the pavement. 
 Yes, sir, I dou't like bad jokes. When a person is married, he 
 should say so. Hold your tongue, do not give me any more of 
 your rudeness ! " 
 
 The carpenter, who was a jolly fellow, and who had no doubt 
 had a drop too much wine, ended by bursting out laughing. 
 
 " It's damned funny all the same. However, as the gentle- 
 man objects, you'd better return home, Amelie. We'll wait till 
 some other time. By Jove ! I accept your notice with pleasure ! 
 I wouldn't stop in such a hole on any account ! Thei'e are some 
 pretty goings-on in it, one comes across some rare filth. You 
 won't have women brought here, but you tolerate, on every floor, 
 well-dressed strumpets who lead fine lives behind the doors! You 
 set of mufts ! you swells ! " 
 
 Amelie had gone off so as not to cause her old man any more 
 annoyance ; and he, jolly, and without anger, continued his 
 chaff. During this time, Monsieur Gourd protected Monsieur 
 Vabre's retreat, permitting himself to make a few remarks out 
 loud. What a dirty set the lower classes were ! One workman 
 in a house was sufficient to pollute it. 
 
 Octave closed the window. But, just as he was returning to 
 Marie, an individual who was lightly gliding along the passage, 
 knocked up against him. 
 
 " What ! it's you again ! " said he recognising Trublot. 
 
 The latter remained a second taken aback. Then, he wished 
 to explain his presence. 
 
 " Yes, it is I. I dined at the Josserands', and I'm going " 
 
 Octave felt disgusted. 
 
 " What, with that slut Adele ? You declared it was not so." 
 
 Then, Trublot assumed all his swagger, saying with an air of 
 intense satisfaction : 
 
 " I assure you, my dear fellow, it's awfully fine. She has 
 such a skin, you've no idea what a skin ! " 
 
 Then he railed against the workman, who had almost been 
 the cause of his being caught on the servants' staircase, and all 
 his dirty fuss about women. He had been obliged to come 
 round by the grand staircase. And, as he made off, he added : 
 
 " Remember, it is next Thursday that I am going to take you 
 to see Duveyrier's mistress. We will dine together." 
 
 The house resumed it's peacefulness, lapsing into that religious 
 silence which seemed to issue from its chaste alcoves. Octave
 
 122 PIPING HOT I 
 
 had rejoined Marie in the inner chamber at the side of the con- 
 jugal couch, where she was arranging the pillows. Upstairs, 
 the chair being littered with the washhand basin and an old 
 pair of shoes, Trublot sat down on Adele's narrow bed, and 
 waited iu his dress clothes and his white tie. When he recog- 
 nised Julie's step as she came up to bed, he held his breath, 
 having a constant dread of women's quarrels. At length A dele 
 appeared. She was in a temper, and went for him at once. 
 
 " I say, you ! you might treat me a bit better, when I wait 
 at table ! " 
 
 " How, treat you better 1 " 
 
 " Why of course you don't even look at me, you never say if 
 you please, when you ask for bread. For instance, this evening 
 when I handed round the veal, you had a way of disowning me. 
 I've had enough of it, look you ! All the house badgers me 
 with its nonsense. It's too much, if you're going to join the 
 others ! " 
 
 Whilst this was taking place, the workman in the next room, 
 not yet sobered, talked to himself in so loud a voice that every 
 one on that landing could hear him. 
 
 " Well ! it's funny all the same, that a fellow can't sleep with 
 his wife ! No woman allowed in the house, you fussy old idiot ! 
 Just go now and poke your nose into all the rooms, and see what 
 you'll see 1 "
 
 123 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FOR a fortnight past, with the view of getting uncle Bachelard 
 to give Berthe a dowry, the Josserands had been inviting him 
 to dinner almost every evening, in spite of his offensive habits. 
 
 When the marriage was announced to him, he had contented 
 himself with giving his niece a gentle pat on the cheek, saying : 
 
 " What ! you are going to get married ! Ah ! that's very 
 nice, little girl ! " 
 
 And he remained deaf to all allusions, exaggerating his air of 
 a silly old boozer who got drunk on liqueurs, the moment money 
 was mentioned before him. 
 
 Madame Josserand had the idea to invite him one evening 
 together with Auguste, the bridegroom elect. Perhaps the sight 
 of the young man would decide him. The step was heroical, 
 for the family did not like exhibiting the uncle, always fearing 
 that he would give people a bad impression of them. He had, 
 however, behaved pretty well ; his waistcoat alone had a big 
 syrupy stain, which it had obtained no doubt in some cafe. But 
 when his sister questioned him, after Auguste had taken his 
 departure, and asked him what he thought of the young fellow, 
 he answered without involving himself : 
 
 " Charming, charming." 
 
 This would never do. It was a pressing matter. Therefore, 
 Madame Josserand determined to plainly place the position of 
 affairs before him. 
 
 " As we are by ourselves," resumed she, " we may as well 
 take advantage of it. Leave us, my darlings ; we want to have 
 some talk with your uncle. You, Berthe, just look after 
 Saturnin, and see that he does not take the lock off the door 
 again." 
 
 Saturnin, ever since they had been busy about his sister's 
 marriage, hiding everything from him, had taken to wandering 
 about the rooms, an anxious look in his eyes, and scenting that 
 there was something up ; and he imagined most diabolical things 
 which gave the family awful frights.
 
 124 PIPING HOT! 
 
 " I have obtained every information," said the mother, when 
 she had shut herself in with the father and the uncle. " This 
 is the position of the Vabres." 
 
 And she went into long details of figures. Old Vabre 
 had brought half a million with him from Versailles. If the 
 house had cost him three hundred thousand francs, he had 
 two hundred thousand left, which, during the twelve years that 
 had past had been producing interest. Moreover, he received 
 each year twenty-two thousand francs in rent ; and, as he lived 
 with the Duveyriers, scarcely spending anything at all, he must 
 consequently be altogether worth five or six hundred thousand 
 francs, besides the house. Thus, there were some very hand- 
 some expectations on that side. 
 
 " Has he no vices, then 1 " asked uncle Bachelard. " I 
 thought he speculated at the Bourse." 
 
 But Madame Josserand cried out. Such a quiet old gentle- 
 man, and occupied on such a great task ! That one, at least, 
 had shown himself capable of putting a fortune by ; and she 
 smiled bitterly as she looked at her husband, who bowed his head. 
 
 As for Monsieur Vabre's three children, Auguste, Clotilde 
 and Theophile, they had each had a hundred thousand francs on 
 their mother's death. .Theophile, after some ruinous enterprises, 
 was living as best he could on the crumbs of this inheritance. 
 Clotilde, with no other passion than her piano, had probably 
 invested her share. And Auguste had purchased the business 
 on the ground floor and gone in for the silk trade with his 
 hundred thousand francs which he had long kept in reserve. 
 
 " And the old fellow naturally gives nothing to his children 
 when they marry," observed the uncle. 
 
 Well ! he did not much like giving, that was a fact which 
 was unfortunately indisputable. When Clotilde married, he 
 had undertaken to give a dowry of eighty thousand francs; but 
 Duveyrier had never received more than ten thousand, and he 
 did not demand the balance, he even kept his father-in-law, 
 flattering his avarice, no doubt with the hope of one day secur- 
 ing all his fortune. In the same way, after promising Thdo- 
 phile fifty thousand francs at the time of his mtrriage with 
 Valerie, the old gentleman had commenced by merely paying 
 the interest, then had not forked out even a single sou from his 
 cashbox, and had even got to the point of demanding the rent, 
 which the couple paid him, for fear of being struck out of his 
 will. Therefore, it would not do to count too much on the 
 fifty thousand francs Auguste was to receive in his turn, on the
 
 PIPING HOT! 125 
 
 signing of his marriage contract ; they would have no reason to 
 complain if his father let him have the warehouse on the ground 
 floor for a few years free of rent. 
 
 " Well ! " declared Bachelard, " it is always hard on the par- 
 ents. Dowries are never really paid." 
 
 " Let us return to Auguste," continued Madame Josserand. 
 " I have told you his expectations, and the only danger comes 
 from the Duveyriers, whom Berthe will do well to watch very 
 closely, if she enters the family. At the present moment, 
 Auguste, after purchasing the business for sixty thousand fi'ancs, 
 has started with the other forty thousand. Only, the sum is 
 not sufficient ; besides which, he is single, and requires a wife ; 
 that is why he wishes to marry. Berthe is pretty, he already 
 sees her in his counting-house ; and as for the dowry, fifty 
 thousand francs are a respectable sum which has decided 
 him." 
 
 Uncle Bachelard did not so much as blink his eyes. He 
 ended by saying in a tender-hearted way that he had dreamed 
 of something better. And he commenced to pick the future 
 husband to pieces : a charming fellow, certainly ; but too old, 
 a great deal too old, thirty-three years and over ; besides which, 
 always ill, his face distorted by neuralgia ; in short, a sorry ob- 
 ject, not near lively enough for trade. 
 
 " Have you another ? " asked Madame Josserand, whose 
 patience was wearing out. " I searched all Paris before finding 
 him." 
 
 However, she did not deceive herself much. She too picked 
 him to pieces. 
 
 " Oh ! he is not a phoenix, in fact I think him a bit of a fool. 
 Besides which, I mistrust those men who have never had any 
 youth and who do not risk a stride in life without thinking 
 about it for years beforehand. On leaving college, where his 
 headaches prevented him completing his studies, he remained 
 for fifteen years a mere clerk before daring to touch his hundred 
 thousand francs, the interest of which, it seems, his father was 
 cheating him out of all the time. No, no, he is not up to much." 
 
 Moi.sieur Josserand, who until then had kept silent, ventured 
 an observation. 
 
 "But, my dear, why insist so obstinately on this marriage? 
 If the young man's health is so bad 
 
 " Oh ! it is not bad health that need prevent it," interrupted 
 Bachelard. " Berthe would find no difficulty in marrying 
 again,"
 
 126 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 " However, if he is incapable," resumed the father, " if he is 
 likely to make our daughter unhappy " 
 
 " Unhappy ! " cried Madame Josserand. " Say at once that 
 I throw my child at the head of the first-comer ! We are 
 among ourselves, we discuss him : he is this, he is that, not 
 young, not handsome, not intelligent. We just talk the matter 
 over, do we not ? it is but natural. Only, he is very well, we 
 shall never find a better ; and, shall I tell you ? it is a most un- 
 expected match for Berthe. I was about to give up all hope, 
 on my word of honour ! " 
 
 She rose to her feet. Monsieur Josserand, reduced to silence, 
 pushed back his chair. 
 
 " I have only one fear," continued she, making a resolute 
 stand before her brother, "and that is that he may break it off, 
 if he is not paid the dowry on the day the contract is to be 
 signed. It is easy to understand, he is in want of money " 
 
 But at this moment a hot breathing, which she heard be- 
 hind her, caused her to turn round. Saturnin was there, pass- 
 ing his head round the partly opened door, his eyes glaring like 
 a wolfs as he listened to what was being said. And it created 
 quite a panic, for he had stolen a spit from the kitchen, to spit 
 the geese, said he. Uncle Bachelard, feeling very uneasy at 
 the turn the conversation was taking, availed himself of the 
 general alarm. 
 
 "Don't disturb yourselves," cried he from the ante-room. 
 " I'm off, I've an appointment at midnight, with one of my 
 customers, who's come specially from Brazil." 
 
 When they had succeeded in getting Saturnin to bed, 
 Madame Josserand, exasperated, declared that it was impossible 
 to keep him any longer. He would end by doing some one an 
 injury, if he was not shut up in a madhouse. Life was unbear- 
 able with him always to be kept in hiding. His sisters would 
 never get married, so long as he was there to disgust and 
 frighten people. 
 
 " Wait a bit longer," murnnvred Monsieur Josserand, whose 
 heart bled at the thought of this separation. 
 
 " No, no ! " declared the mother, " I do not want him to spit 
 me in the end ! I had brought my brother to the point, I was 
 about to get him to do something. Never mind ! we will go 
 with Berthe to-morrow to his own place, and we will see if he 
 will have the cheek to escape from his promises. Besides, 
 Berthe owes her godfather a visit. It is oulv proper." 
 
 On the morrow, all three, the mother, lfee father, and the
 
 PIPING HOT ! 127 
 
 daughter, paid an official visit to the uncle's warehouses, which 
 occupied the basement and the ground floor of an enormous 
 house in the Rue d'Enghien. Large vans blocked up the en- 
 trance. A gang of packers were nailing up cases in the covered 
 courtyard ; and, through open bays, one caught glimpses of 
 piles of merchandise, dried vegetables and remnants of silk, 
 stationery and tallow, all the accumulations of the thousand 
 commissions given by the customers, and of the purchases risked 
 in advance at times when prices were low. Bachelard was 
 there with his big red nose, his eye still sparkling from the in- 
 toxication of the night before, but with his intelligence clear, 
 his instinct and his luck returning the moment he found him- 
 self again before his books. 
 
 " Hallo ! you here ! " said he, greatly annoyed. 
 
 And he received them in a little closet, from which he 
 watched his men through a window. 
 
 " I have brought Berthe to see you," explained Madame Jos- 
 serand. " She knows what she owes you." 
 
 Then, when the young girl, after kissing her uncle, had, on a 
 glance from her mother, returned to look at the goods in the 
 courtyard, the latter resolutely broached the subject. 
 
 " Listen, Narcisse, this is how we are situated. Counting on 
 your kindness of heart and on your promises, I have engnged 
 to give a dowry of fifty thousand fnincs. If I do not give it, 
 the marriage will be broken off. It would be a disgrace, things 
 having gone as far as they have. You cannot leave us in such 
 an embarrassing position." 
 
 But a vacant look had come into Bachelard's eyes ; and he 
 stuttered, as though very drunk : 
 
 " Eh ? what? you've promised. You should never promise ; 
 it's a bad thing to promise." 
 
 He pleaded poverty. For instance, he had bought a whole 
 stock of horsehair, thinking that the price of horsehair would 
 go up ; but not at all, the price had fallen lower still, and he 
 had been obliged to dispatch them at a loss. And he pounced 
 on his books, opened his ledgers, and insisted on showing the 
 invoices. It was ruination. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " Monsieur Josserand ended by saying, com- 
 pletely out of patience. " I know your business ; you make 
 no end of money, and you "would be rolling in wealth if you did 
 not squander it in the way you do. I ask you for nothing my- 
 self. It was Eleonore who persisted in applying to you. But 
 allow me to tell you", Bachelard, that you have been fooling us.
 
 128 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 Every Saturday for fifteen years past, when I come to^look 
 over your books for you, you are for ever promising me 
 The uncle interrupted him, and violently slapped himse 
 
 the chest. , n 
 
 I promise 1 impossible ! No, no j let me alone, you 11 see 
 I don't like being asked, it annoys me it makes me ill. 
 see one day." c 
 
 Madame Josserand herself could get nothing farther out ot 
 him He shook their hands, wiped away a tear, talked ot 
 soul and of his love for the family, imploring them not to worry 
 him any more, and swearing before heaven that they would 
 never repent it. He knew his duty ; he would perform it to 
 the uttermost. Later on, Berthe would know how her i 
 
 An?' what about the dotal insurance," asked he in his 
 natural tone of voice, " the fifty thousand francs you had rasu 
 the little one for?" 
 
 Madame Josserand shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " It has been dead and buried for fourteen years past. Yoi 
 have been told twenty times already, that when the fourth 
 premium fell due, we were unable to pay the two thousa 
 
 doesn't matter," murmured he with a wink, "the 
 thin" is to talk of this insurance to the family, and then get 
 time for paying the dowry. One never pays a dowry. 
 
 Monsieur Josserand rose indignantly. 
 
 " What 1 that is all you can find to say 1 " 
 
 But the uncle mistook his meaning, and went on to show 
 that it was quite a usual thing. 
 
 " Never I tell you ! One gives something on account, and 
 then merely pays the interest. Look at Monsieur Vabre him- 
 self. Did our father ever pay you Eleonore's dowry why no of 
 course not. Every one sticks to his money ; it s only natural I 
 
 In short, you advise me to commit a most abominable 
 action ! " cried Monsieur Josserand. " I should lie, it would be 
 a forgery to produce the policy of that msurance- 
 
 Madame Josserand stopped him. The idea suggested by her 
 brother had rendered her grave. She was surprised she had 
 not thought of it herself. . 
 
 Dear me ! how excited you become, my dear. Narcisse has 
 not told you to forge anything." 
 
 Of course not," murmured the uncle. " There is no occa- 
 sion to show any documents."
 
 PIPING HOT! 129 
 
 " It is simply a question of gaiaing time," continued she. 
 " Promise the dowry, we shall always manage to give it later 
 on." 
 
 Then the worthy man's conscience spoke out. No ! he 
 refused ; he would not again venture on such a precipice. 
 They were always taking advantage of his complacency, to get 
 him to agree little by little to things which afterwards made 
 him ill, so deeply did they wound his feelings. As he had no 
 dowry to give, he could not promise one. 
 
 Bachelard was strumming on the little window with his 
 fingers and whistling a march, as though to show his great 
 contempt for such scruples. Madame Josserand had listened 
 to her husband, her face all pale with an anger which had been 
 slowly rousing, and which suddenly exploded. 
 
 " Well ! sir, as this is how you look at it, this marriage shall 
 take place. It was my daughter's last chance. I will cut my 
 hand off sooner than she shall lose it. So much the worse 
 for the others ! One becomes capable of anything at last." 
 
 " So, madame, you would commit murder to get your 
 daughter married ? " 
 
 She rose to her full height. 
 
 " Yes ! " said she furiously. 
 
 Then she smiled. The uncle had to quell the storm. What 
 was the use of wrangling] It was far better to agree together. 
 And, still trembling from the quarrel, bewildered and worn out, 
 Monsieur Josserand ended by promising to talk the matter over 
 with Duvejrier, on whom everything depended, according to 
 Madame Josserand. Only, to get hold of the counsellor when 
 he was in a good humour, the uncle offered to put his brother- 
 in-law in the way of meeting him at a house where he could 
 refuse nothing. 
 
 "It is merely to be an interview," declared Monsieur 
 Josserand, still struggling. "I swear that I will not enter into 
 any engagements." 
 
 " Of course, of course," said Bachelard. " Eleonore does not 
 wish you to do anything dishonourable." 
 
 Berthe just then returned. She had seen some boxes of pre- 
 served fruits, and, after some lively caresses, she tried to get 
 one given her. But the uncle's speech again became thick ; 
 impossible, they were counted, and had to leave that very 
 evening for Saint-Petersburg. He slowly got them in the 
 direction of the street, whilst his sister lingered before the 
 activity of the vast warehouses, full to the rafters with every 
 
 I
 
 130 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 imaginable commodity, suffering from the sight of that fortune 
 male by a man without any principles, and bitterly comparing 
 it with her husband's incapable honesty. 
 
 Well! to-morrow night then, towards nine o clock, at the 
 Cafe de Mulhouse," said Bachelard outside, as 
 Monsieur Josseraud's hand. TVnhlot who 
 
 It so happened that, on the morrow, Octave and Trublot, who 
 had dLed^ogether before going to see Clansse, Duveyriers 
 ^stress entered the Cafe de Mulhouse, so as not to call too 
 SSfStXh she lived in the Rue de la Cerisaie, which was 
 some'distancl off. It was scarcely eight o'clock. As they 
 Entered the sound of a violent quarrel attracted them to a 
 Sher out-of-the-way room at the end. And there they beheld 
 Bachelard already drunk, enormous m size, and his 
 flartt red, having an altercation with a little gentleman, pale 
 
 ^ ChtHgain spat in my beer ! roared he in his voice of 
 thunder " I'll not stand it, sir !" 
 
 - Go to blazes, do you bear] or I'll give you a thrashing! 
 said the little man, standing on the tips of his toes. 
 
 Then Bachelard raised his voice very provokmgly, withou 
 drawing back an inch. 
 
 he ahvays wore swaggeringly on the side o his head, even m 
 the cafes, he repeated more energetically still : 
 
 As you please, sir ! If you think proper ! 
 
 Thenf after picking up his hat, he sat himself down with a 
 superb air, and called to the waiter : 
 
 w > H 
 
 Gueu in seated at the uncle's table, his back against the wall 
 Coking with a tranquillity amounting to indifference. As 
 
 ^Sb^ T 
 
 hisclt "Alw'aysalotofrot! Oh! a mania for getting his 
 
 n:^L H k%^rrh a i M--.. ^ ^ 
 
 voun' people When he heard that they were going to call oil 
 Clarifse P he was delighted, for he himself was going there with 
 Clarisse ne vvas g , brother-in-law, Josserand,
 
 PIPING HOT! 131 
 
 drink imaginable for the benefit of his young friends, with the 
 insane prodigality of a man who does not care what he spends 
 when out on pleasure. Ill-formed, with his teeth too new and 
 his nose in a blaze beneath his short snow-white hair, he talked 
 familiarly to the waiters and thoroughly tired them out, and 
 made himself unbearable to his neighbours to such a point that 
 the landlord came twice to beg him to leave, if he could not 
 keep quiet. The night before, he had been turned out of the 
 Cafe de Madrid. 
 
 But a girl having put in an appearance, and then gone away, 
 after walking round the room with a wearied air, Octave 
 began to talk of women. This set Bachelard off again. Women 
 had cost him too much money; he flattered himself that 'he 
 had had the best in Paris. In his business, one never bargained 
 about such things ; just to show that one had something to 
 fall back upon. Now, he was giving all that up, he wished to 
 be loved. And, in presence of this bawler chucking banknotes 
 about, Octave thought with surprise of the uncle who exagge- 
 rated his stuttering drunkenness to escape the family extortions. 
 
 " Don't boast, uncle," said Gueulin. " One can always have 
 more women than one wants." 
 
 " Then, you silly fool, why do you never have any 1 " asked 
 Bachelard. 
 
 Gueulin contemptuously shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Why 1 Listen ! Only yesterday I dined with a friend and 
 his mistress. The mistress at once began to kick me under the 
 table. It was an opportunity, wasn't it ] Well ! when she 
 asked me to see her home, I made off, and I haven't been near 
 her since. Oh ! I don't deny that, for the time being, it might 
 have been very agreeable. But afterwards, afterwards, uncle ! 
 Perhaps one of those women a fellow can never get rid of. I'm 
 not such a fool ! " 
 
 Trublot nodded his head approvingly, for he also had 
 renounced women of society, through a dread of the trouble- 
 some morrows. And Gueulin, coming out of his shell, continued 
 to give examples. One day in the train a superb brunette, 
 whom he did not know, had fallen asleep on his shoulder ; but 
 he had thought twice, what would he have done with her on 
 arriving at the station ? Another day, after a wedding, he had 
 found a neighbour's wife in his room, eh ? that was rather cool ; 
 and he would have made a fool of himself had it not been for 
 the idea that afterwards she would certainly have wanted him 
 to keep her in boots.
 
 132 PIPING HOT! 
 
 " Opportunities, uncle ! " said he, coming to an end, " no one 
 has such opportunities as I ! But I keep myself in check. 
 Every one, morever, does the same ; one is afraid of what may 
 follow. Were it not for that, it would, of course, be very 
 pleasant ! Good morning ! good evening ! one would see nothing 
 else in the streets." 
 
 Bachelard, become wrapped in thought, was no longer listen- 
 ing to him. His bluster had calmed down, his eyes were wet. 
 
 " If you are very good," said he suddenly, " I will show you 
 something." 
 
 And, alter paying, he led them out Octave reminded him of 
 old Josserand. That did not matter, they would come back for 
 him. Then, before leaving the room, the uncle, casting a fur- 
 tive glance around, stole the sugar left by a customer on a 
 neighbouring table. 
 
 " Follow me," said he, when he was outside. " It's close 
 by." 
 
 He walked along, grave and thoughtful, without uttering a 
 word. He drew up before a door in the Rue Saint-Marc. The 
 three young men were about to follow him, when he appeared 
 to give way to a sudden hesitation. 
 
 " No, let us go off, I won't." 
 
 But they cried out at this. "Was he trying to make fools 
 of them ? 
 
 " Well ! Gueulin mustn't come up, nor you 'either, Monsieur 
 Trublot. You're not nice enough, you respect nothing, you'd 
 joke. Come, Monsieur Octave, you're a serious sort of fellow." 
 
 He made Octave walk up before him, whilst the other two 
 laughed, and called to him from the pavement to give their 
 compliments to the ladies. On reaching the fourth floor, he 
 knocked, and an old woman opened the door. 
 
 " What ! it's you, Monsieur Narcisse ? Fifi did not expect 
 you this evening," said she, with a smile. 
 
 She was fat, with the calm, white face of a nun. In the nar- 
 row dining-room into which she ushered them, a tall fair young 
 girl, pretty and simple looking, was embroidering an altar 
 cloth. 
 
 " Good day, uncle," said she, rising to offer her forehead to 
 Bachelard's thick trembling lips. 
 
 When the latter had introduced Monsieur Octave Mouret, a 
 distinguished young man whom he counted amongst his friends, 
 the two women curtsied in an old-fashioned way, and then they 
 all seated themselves round the table, lighted by a petroleum
 
 PIPING HOT 133 
 
 lamp. It was like a quiet country home, two regulated exist- 
 ences, out of sight of all, and living upon next to nothing. As 
 the room overlooked an inner courtyard, one could not even hear 
 the sound of the passing vehicles. 
 
 Whilst Bachelard paternally questioned the child on her 
 feelings and her occupations since the night before, the aunt, 
 Mademoiselle Menu, at once began to tell Octave their history, 
 with the familiarity of a worthy woman who thinks she has no- 
 thing to hide. 
 
 " Yes, sir, I come from Villeneuve, near Lille. I am well 
 known to Messieurs Mardienne Freres, in the Rue Saint-Sulpice, 
 where I worked as an embroiderer for thirty years. Then, a 
 cousin having left me a house in our part of the country, I was 
 lucky enough to let it as a life interest at a thousand francs a- 
 year, sir, to people who thought they would bury me on the 
 morrow, and who are nicely punished for their wicked idea, for 
 I am still alive, in spite of my seventy-five years.'"' 
 
 She laughed, displaying teeth as white as a young girl's. 
 
 " I was doing nothing, my eyes being quite worn out," con- 
 tinued she, " when my niece, Fanny, came to me. Her father, 
 Captain Menu, had died without leaving a sou, and no other 
 relation, sir. So, I at once took the child away from her school, 
 and made an embroidei-er of her a very unprofitable craft ; but 
 what could be done ? whether that, or something else, women 
 always have to starve. Fortunately, she met Monsieur Nar- 
 cisse. Now, I can die happy." 
 
 And, her hands clasped on her stomach, in her inaction of an 
 old workwoman who has sworn never again to touch a needle, 
 she looked tenderly at Bachelard and Fifi with tearful eyes. 
 The old man was just then saying to the child : 
 
 " Really, you thought of me ! And what did you think? " 
 
 Fifi raised her limpid eyes, without ceasing to draw her 
 golden thread. 
 
 " Why, that you were a good friend, and that I loved you 
 very much." 
 
 She had scarcely looked at Octave, as though indifferent to 
 the youth of so handsome a fellow. Yet he smiled on her, sur- 
 prised, and moved by her gracefulness, not knowing what to 
 think ; whilst the aunt, who had grown old in a celibacy and a 
 chastity which had cost her nothing, continued, lowering her 
 voice : 
 
 " I might have married her, might I not ? A workman would 
 have beaten her, a clerk would have given her no end of chil-
 
 134 PIPING HOT! 
 
 dren. It is better far that she should behave well with Mon- 
 sieur Narcisse, who looks a very worthy man." 
 
 And, raising her voice : 
 
 " Ah ! Monsieur Narcisse, it will not have been my fault if 
 she does not please you. I am always telling her : do all you 
 can to please him, show yourself grateful. It is but natural, I 
 am so thankful to know that she is at last provided for. It is 
 so difficult to get a young girl settled in life, when one has no 
 friends ! " 
 
 Then Octave abandoned himself to the happy simplicity of 
 this home. In the still atmosphere of the room floated an odour 
 of fruit. Fifi's needle, as it pierced the silk, alone made a slight 
 monotonous noise, like the ticking of a little clock, which might 
 have regulated the placidity of the uncle's amours. Moreover, 
 the old maid was honesty itself; she lived on the thousand francs 
 of her income, never touching Fifi's money, which the latter 
 spent as she chose. Her scruples yielded only to white wine 
 and chestnuts, which her niece occasionally treated her to, after 
 opening the money box in which she collected four sou pieces, 
 given as medals by her good friend. 
 
 " My little duck," at length said Bachelard, rising, " we have 
 business to attend to. Good-bye till to-morrow. Now, mind 
 you are very good." 
 
 He kissed her on the forehead. Then, after looking at her 
 with emotion, he said to Octave : 
 
 " You may kiss her too, she is a mere child." 
 
 The young man pressed his lips to her fair skin. She smiled, 
 she was very modest ; however, it was merely like a family 
 gathering, he had never seen such sober-minded people. The 
 uncle was going off, when he re-entered the room, exclaiming : 
 
 " I was forgetting, I've a little present." 
 
 And, turning out his pocket, he gave Fifi the sugar which he 
 had just stolen at the cafe. She thanked him very heartily, 
 and, as she crunched up a piece, she became quite red with 
 pleasure. Then, becoming bolder, she asked : 
 
 " Do you not happen to have some four sou pieces ? " 
 
 Bachelard searched his pockets without result. Octave had 
 one, which the young girl accepted as a memorial She did not 
 accompany them to the door, no doubt out of propriety ; and they 
 heard her drawing her needle, having at once resumed her altar- 
 cloth, whilst Mademoiselle Menu saw them to the landing, with 
 her good old woman's amiability. 
 
 " Eh 1 it's worth seeing/' said uncle Bachelard, stopping on
 
 UNCLE BACHELARD GIVES OCTAVE PERMISSION TO KISS FIFI. 
 
 p. 134.
 
 PIPING HOT! 135 
 
 the stairs. " You know, it doesn't cost ine five louis a month. 
 I've had enough of the hussies who almost devoured me. On 
 my word ! what I required was a heart." 
 
 Bat, as Octave laughed, he became mistrustful. 
 
 " You're a decent fellow, you won't take advantage of what I 
 have shown you. Not a word to Gueulin, you swear it on your 
 honour? I am waiting till he is worthy of her to show her to 
 him. An angel, my dear fellow ! No matter what is said, 
 virtue is good, it refreshes one. I have always gone in for the 
 ideal." 
 
 His old drunkard's voice trembled, tears swelled his heavy 
 eyelids. Down below, Trublot chaffed, pretending to take the 
 number of the house ; whilst Gueulin shrugged his shoulders, 
 asking Octave, who was astounded, what he thought of the little 
 thing. Whenever the uncle's feelings had been softened by a 
 booze, he could not resist taking people to see these ladies, 
 divided between the vanity of showing his treasure and the fear 
 of having it stolen from him ; then, on the morrow, he forgot 
 all about it, and returned to the Rue Saint-Marc with an air of 
 mystery. 
 
 " Everyone knows Fifi," said Gueulin, quietly. 
 
 Meanwhile, Bachelard was looking out for a cab, when Octave 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " And Monsieur Josserand, who is waiting at the cafe 1 ? " 
 
 The others had forgotten him entirely. Monsieur Josserand, 
 very annoyed at wasting his evening, was impatiently waiting at 
 the entrance, for he never took anything out of doors. At length 
 they started for the Rue de la Cerisaie. But they had to take 
 two cabs, the commission agent and the cashier in the one, and 
 the three young men in the other. 
 
 Gueulin, his voice drowned by the jingling noise of the old 
 vehicle, at first talked of the insurance company where he was 
 employed. Insurance companies and stockbrokers were equally 
 unpleasant, affirmed Trublot. Then the conversation turned to 
 Duveyrier. Was it not unfortunate that a rich man, a magis- 
 trate, should let himself be fooled by women in that way 1 He 
 always wanted them in out-of-the-way neighbourhoods, right at 
 the end of the omnibus routes : modest little ladies in their 
 o\sn apartments, playing the parts of widows; unknown mil- 
 liners, having shops and no customers ; girls picked out of 
 the gutter, clothed, and shut up, as though in a convent, whom 
 he would go to see regularly once a week, like a clerk trudging 
 to his office.
 
 136 PIPING HOT1 
 
 Trublot, however, found excuses for him : to begin with, it 
 was the fault of his constitution ; then, it was impossible to put 
 up with a confounded wife like his. On the very first night, so 
 it was said, she could not bear him, affecting to be disgusted at 
 his red blotches, so that she willingly allowed him to have mis- 
 tresses, whose complaisances relieved her of him, though at 
 times she accepted the abominable burden, with the resignation 
 of a virtuous woman who makes a point of accomplishing all her 
 duties. 
 
 " Then, she is virtuous, is she ? " asked Octave, interested. 
 
 " Virtuous ? Oh ! yes, my dear fellow ! Every good quality ; 
 pretty, serious, well brought up, learned, full of taste, chaste, 
 and unbearable ! " 
 
 A block of vehicles at the bottom of the Rue Montmartre 
 stopped the cab. The young men, who had let down the win- 
 dows, could hear Bachelard's voice furiously abusing the coach- 
 man. Then, when the cab moved on again, Gueulin gave some 
 information about Clarisse. Her name was Clarisse Bocquet, 
 and she was the daughter of a former toy merchant in a small 
 way, who now attended all the fairs with his wife and quite a 
 troop of dirty children. Duveyrier had come across her one 
 night when it was thawing, just as her lover had chucked her 
 out. No doubt, this strapping wench answered to an ideal long 
 sought after, for as early as the morrow he was hooked, he wept 
 as he kissed her eyelids, all shaken by his need to cultivate the 
 little blue flower of romance in his huge masculine appetites. 
 Clarisse had consented to live in the Rue de la Cerisaie, so as 
 not to expose him ; but she led him a fine dance, had made him 
 buy her twenty-five thousand francs' worth of furniture, and 
 was devouring him heartily, in company with some actors of the 
 Montmartre Theatre. 
 
 " I don't care a hang ! " said Trublot, " so long as one amuses 
 oneself at her place. Anyhow, she doesn't make you sing, and 
 she isn't forever strumming away on a piano like the other. 
 Oh ! that piano ! Listen, when one is deafened at home, when 
 one has had the misfortune to marry a mechanical piano which 
 frightens everybody away, one would be precious stupid not to 
 arrange a pleasant little nest elsewhere, where one could receive 
 one's friends in their slippers." 
 
 " Last Sunday," related Gueulin, " Clarisse wanted me to 
 lunch alone with her. I declined. After those sort of lunches 
 one always does something foolish ; and I was afraid of seeing 
 her take up her quarters with me the day she left Duveyrier for
 
 PIPING HOT! 137 
 
 good. You know, she detests him. Oh ! her disgust almost 
 makes her ill. Well ! the girl doesn't care much for pimples 
 either. But she hasn't the resource of sending him elsewhere 
 like his wife has ; otherwise, if she could pass him over to 
 her maid, I assure you she'd get rid of the job precious 
 quick." 
 
 The cab stopped. They alighted before a dark and silent 
 house in the Rue de la Cerisaie. But they had to w,ait for the 
 other cab fully ten minutes, Bachelard having taken his driver 
 with him to drink a grog after the quarrel in the Rue Mout- 
 martre. On the staircase, as severe-looking as those of the 
 middle-classes, Monsieur Josserand again asked some questions 
 respecting Duveyrier's lady friend, but the uncle merely 
 answered : 
 
 " A woman of the world, a very decent girl. She won't eat 
 you." 
 
 It was a little maid, with a rosy complexion, who opened the 
 door to them. She took the gentlemen's coats with familiar and 
 tender smiles. For a moment, Trublot kept her in a corner of 
 the ante-room, whispering things in her ear which almost made 
 her choke, as though being tickled. But Bachelard had pushed 
 open the drawing-room door, and he at once introduced Monsieur 
 Josserand. The latter stood for a moment embarrassed, finding 
 Clarisse ugly, and not understanding how the counsellor could 
 prefer this sort of creature black and skinny, and with a head 
 of hair like a poodle to his wife, one of the most beautiful 
 women of society. Clarisse, however, was charming. She had 
 preserved the Parisian cackle, a superficial and borrowed wit, an 
 itch of drollery caught by rubbing up against men, but was able 
 to put on a grand lady sort of- air when she chose. 
 
 "Sir, I am charmed. All Alphonse's friends are mine. 
 Now you are one of us, the house is yours." 
 
 Duveyrier, warned by a note from Bachelard, also greeted 
 Monsieur Josserand very amiably. Octave was surprised at the 
 counsellor's youthful appearance. He was no longer the severe 
 and ill-at-ease individual, who never seemed to be in his own 
 home in the drawing-room of the Rue de Choiseul. The deep 
 red blotches on his face were turning to a rosy hue, his oblique 
 eyes shone with a childish delight, whilst Clarisse related in 
 the midst of a group, how he sometimes hastened to come and 
 see her during a short adjournment of the court ; just time to 
 jump into a cab, to kiss her, and start back again. Then he 
 complained of being overworked. Four 1 sittings a week, from
 
 138 PIPING HOT! 
 
 eleven to five ; always the same skein of bickerings to unravel, 
 it ended by destroying all feeling in one's heart. 
 
 " It is true," said he, laughing, " one requires a few roses 
 amongst all that. I feel better afterwards." 
 
 However, he did not wear his bit of red ribbon, but always took 
 it off when visiting his mistress ; a last scruple, a delicate dis- 
 tinction, which his sense of decency obstinately persisted in. 
 Clarisse, without wishing to say so, felt very much hurt at it. 
 
 Octave, who had at once shook hands with the young woman 
 like a comrade, listened and looked about him. The drawing- 
 room, with its big floral-pattern carpet, its garnet satin-covered 
 furniture and hangings, bore a great resemblance to the draw- 
 ing-room of the Rue de Choiseul ; and, as if to complete this 
 likeness, a great many of the counsellor's friends, whom Octave 
 had seen on the evening of the concert, were met with here 
 likewise, and formed the same groups. But there was smoking, 
 and talking in loud tones, much liveliness flying about in 
 the brilliant light of the candles. Two gentlemen, stretched 
 out beside each other, occupied the whole breadth of a divan ; 
 another, seated astride a chair, was warming his back at the 
 fire. It was a pleasant free-and-easy, a liberty which, however, 
 did not go any farther. Clarisse never received other women, 
 out of decency, she said. When her acquaintances complained 
 that her drawing-room was in want of a few ladies, she would 
 answer with a laugh : 
 
 " Well ! and I am I not enough ?" 
 
 She had arranged a decent home for Alphonse, very middle- 
 class in the main, having a mania for what was proper, all 
 through the ups and downs of her existence. When she re- 
 ceived she would not be addressed familiarly. When the 
 guests were gone, however, and the doors closed, all Alphonse's 
 friends passed in succession, without counting her own, clean- 
 shaven actors and painters with bushy beards. It was an old 
 habit, the need to recruit herself a bit, behind the heels of the 
 man who paid. Of all her acquaintances, two alone had not 
 been willing Gueulin, dreading what might follow, and 
 Trublot, whose affections were elsewhere. 
 
 The little maid handed round some glasses of punch, with 
 her agreeable air. Octave took one ; and, leaning towards his 
 friend, whispered in his ear, 
 
 " The servant is better than the mistress." 
 
 " Why, of course ! always ! " said Trublot, with a shrug of 
 the shoulders, full of a disdainful conviction.
 
 PIPING HOT! 139 
 
 Clarisse came and talked with them for a moment. She 
 multiplied herself, going from one to another, casting a word 
 here, a laugh or gesture there. As each new-comer lighted a 
 cigar the drawing-room was soon full of smoke. 
 
 "Oh! the horrid men I" exclaimed she prettily, as she went 
 and opened a window. 
 
 Without losing any time, Bachelard made Monsieur Josserand 
 comfortable in the recess of this window, to enable him to 
 breathe, said he. Then, thanks to a masterly manoeuvre, he 
 brought Duveyrier to an anchor there also, and quickly broached 
 the affair. So the two families were about to be united by a 
 close tie; he felt highly honoured. Then he inquired what 
 day the marriage contract was going to be signed, and that led 
 him up to the matter in hand. 
 
 " We intended calling on you to-morrow, Josserand and f, 
 to settle everything, for we are aware that Monsieur Auguste 
 would do nothing without you. It is with respect to the pay- 
 ment of the dowry ; and, really, as we are so comfortable 
 here" 
 
 Monsieur Josserand, again suffering the greatest anguish, 
 looked out into the gloomy depths of the Rue de la Cerisaie, 
 with its deserted pavements, and its dark fa9ades. He re- 
 gretted having come. They were again going to take advan- 
 tage of his weakness and engage him in some disgraceful affair, 
 which would cause him no end of suffering afterwards. A feel- 
 ing of revolt made him interrupt his brother-in-law. 
 
 " Another time ; this is not a fitting place, really." 
 
 " But why, pray ? " exclaimed Duveyrier, very graciously. 
 " We are better here than anywhere else. You were saying, 
 sir? " 
 
 " We give Berthe fifty thousand francs," continued the uncle. 
 "Only, these fifty thousand francs are represented by a dotal 
 insurance at twenty years' date, which Josserand took out for his 
 daughter, when she was four years old. She will therefore only 
 receive the money in three years' time " 
 
 " Allow me ! " again interrupted the cashier with a scared look. 
 
 "No, let me finish; Monsieur Duveyrier understands per- 
 fectly. We do not wish the young couple to wait three yeai's 
 for money they may need at once, and we engage ourselves to pay 
 -the dowry in instalments of ten thousand francs every six 
 months, on the understanding that we repay ourselves later on 
 with the insurance money." 
 
 A pause ensued. Monsieur Josserand, feeling frozen and
 
 140 PIPING HOT! 
 
 choking, again looked into the dark street. The counsellor 
 seemed to be thinking the matter over for a moment. Perhaps 
 he scented the affair, and was delighted at letting those Vabres 
 be duped, for he hated them in the person of his wife. 
 
 "All that seems to me very reasonable," said he, at length. 
 " It is for us to thank you. It is very seldom that a dowry is 
 paid at once in full." 
 
 " Never, sir ! " affirmed the uncle, energetically. " Such a 
 thing is never done." 
 
 And the three men shook hands as they arranged to meet on 
 the Thursday at the notary's. When Monsieur Josserand came 
 back into the light, he was so pale that he was asked if he was 
 unwell. As a matter of fact he did not feel very well, and he 
 withdrew, without being willing to wait for his brother-in-law, 
 who had just gone into the diuing-room where the classic tea 
 was represented by champagne. 
 
 Gueulin, stretched on a sofa near the window, murmured, 
 
 " That scoundrel of an uncle ! " 
 
 He had overheard some words about the insurance, and he 
 chuckled as he confided the truth of the matter to Octave and 
 Trublot. It had been done at his office ; there was not a sou 
 to receive, the Vabres were being taken in. Then, as the two 
 others laughed at this good joke, holding their sides meanwhile, 
 he added, with comical earnestness, 
 
 " I want a hundred francs. If the uncle doesn't give me a 
 hundred francs, I'll split." 
 
 The voices were becoming louder, the champagne was up- 
 
 ttting the good behaviour established by Clarisse, In her draw- 
 g-rOom the conclusion of all the parties was invariably rather 
 lively. She herself would make a mistake sometimes. Trublot 
 drew Octave's attention to her as she stood behind a door with 
 her arms round the neck of a fellow with the build of a peasant, 
 a stone carver just arrived from the South, and whom his 
 native town wished to make an artist of. But Duveyrier having 
 pushed the door, she quickly removed her arms, and recom- 
 mended the young man to him : Monsieur Payan, a sculptor 
 with a very graceful talent ; and Duveyrier, delighted, pro- 
 mised to obtain some work for him. 
 
 " Work, work," repeated Gueulin, in a low voice ; " he has 
 as much here as he can want, the big ninny ! " 
 
 Towards two o'clock, when the three young men and the uncle 
 left the Rue de la Cerisaie, the latter was completely drunk. 
 They would have liked to have packed him into a cab ; but the
 
 PIPING HOT ! 141 
 
 neighbourhood was asleep in the midst of a solemn silence, with- 
 out the sound of a wheel, nor even of a belated footstep. Then 
 they decided to support him. The moon had risen, a very 
 bright moon, which whitened the pavements. And in the 
 deserted streets their voices assumed a grave sonorousness. 
 
 " Hang it all, uncle ! keep yourself up ! you're breaking our 
 arms ! " 
 
 He, with his throat full of sobs, had become very tender- 
 hearted and very moral. 
 
 " Go away, Gueulin," stuttered he ; " go away ! I won't 
 have you see your uncle in such a state. No, my boy, it's not 
 right ; go away ! " 
 
 And as his nephew called him an old rogue : 
 
 " Rogue ! that's nothing. One must make oneself respected. 
 I esteem women always decent women ; and when there's no 
 feeling it disgusts me. Go away, Gueulin, you're making your 
 uncle blush. These gentlemen are sufficient." 
 
 "Then," declared Gueulin, "you must give me a hundred 
 francs. Really, I want them for my rent. They're going to 
 turn me out." 
 
 At this unexpected demand, Bachelard's intoxication in- 
 creased to such an extent that he had to be propped up against 
 the shutters of a warehouse. He stuttered : 
 
 " Eh ! what ! a hundred francs ! Don't search me. I've 
 nothing but coppers. You want 'em to squander in bad places ! 
 No, I'll never encourage } T OU in your vices. I know my duty ; 
 your mother confided you to my care on her death-bed. You 
 know, I'll call out if I'm searched." 
 
 He continued, his indignation increasing against the dissolute 
 life led by youth, and returning to the necessity there was for 
 the display of virtue. 
 
 " I say," Gueulin ended by saying, " I've not got to the point 
 of taking families in. Ah, you know what I mean ! If I were 
 to talk, you'd soon give me my hundred francs ! " 
 
 But the uncle at once became deaf to everything. He went 
 grunting and stumbling along. In the narrow street where 
 they then were, behind the church of Saint-Gervaisc, a white 
 lantern alone burned with the palish glimmer of a night-light, 
 displaying a gigantic number painted on its roughened glass. 
 A stifled trepidation issued from the house, whilst the closed 
 shutters emitted a few narrow rays of light. 
 
 " I've had enough of it," declared Gueulin, abruptly. 
 " Excuse me, uncle, I forgot my umbrella up there."
 
 142 PIPING HOT! 
 
 And he entered the house. Bachelard was indignant and 
 full of disgust. He demanded at least a little respect for 
 women. With such morals France was done for. On the 
 Place de 1'Hotel-de-Ville, Octave and Trublot at length found 
 a cab, inside which they shoved him like some bundle. 
 
 " Rue d'Enghien," said they to the driver. "You must pay 
 yourself. Search him." 
 
 The marriage contract was signed on the Thursday before 
 Maitre Renaudin, notary in the Rue de Grammont. At the 
 moment of starting, there had been another awful row at the 
 Josserands', the father having, in a supreme revolt, made the 
 mother responsible for the lie they had forced him to counten- 
 ance ; and they had once more cast their families in each other's 
 teeth. How did they expect him to earn another ten thousand 
 francs every six months 1 The obligation was driving him 
 mad. Uncle Bachelard, who was there, kept placing his hand 
 on his heart, full of fresh promises, now that he had so managed 
 that he would not have to part with a sou, and overflowing 
 with affection, and swearing that he would never leave his 
 little Berthe in an awkward position. But the father, in his ex- 
 asperation, had merely shrugged his shoulders, asking Bache- 
 lard if he really took him for a fool. 
 
 At the notary's, however, the reading of the contract, drawn 
 up from notes furnished by Duveyrier, slightly calmed Mon- 
 sieur Josserand. There was no mention of the insurance ; 
 moreover, the first instalment of ten thousand francs was only 
 to fall due six months after the marriage. They would thus 
 have some breathing time. Auguste, who was listening very 
 attentively, allowed some signs of impatience to escape him. He 
 looked at smiling Berthe, at the Josserands, at Duveyrier, and 
 he ended by venturing to speak of the insurance, as a guarantee 
 which he thought it only logical should be mentioned. Then 
 they all looked at him with surprise ; whatever for ? it was 
 perfectly understood; and they signed quickly, Maitre Renaudin, 
 an amiable young man, holding his tongue as he handed the 
 pen to the ladies. Not till they were outside did Madame 
 Duveyrier express her surprise. No one had ever spoken of an 
 insurance ; the dowry of fifty thousand francs was to have 
 been paid by uncle Bachelard. But Madame Josserand, in the 
 calmest way, denied having mentioned her brother's name in 
 connection with such a trumpery sum. It was his whole 
 fortune that the uncle was going to leave to Berthe. 
 
 On the evening of that day, a cab came to fetch Saturniu
 
 PIPING HOT ! 143 
 
 away. His mother had declared that it was too dangerous for 
 him to be at the ceremony ; one could not cast loose a madman 
 who talked of spitting people in the midst of a wedding-party ; 
 and Monsieur Josserand, broken-hearted, had been obliged to 
 apply for the admission of the poor fellow into the Asile des 
 Moulineaux, kept by Doctor Chassagne. The cab was brought 
 under the porch at twilight. Saturnin came down holding 
 Berthe's hand, and thinking he was going with her into the 
 country. But when he was inside the cab, he struggled furi- 
 ously, breaking the windows and thrusting his bloody fists 
 through them. And Monsieur Josserand returned upstairs 
 weeping, all upset by this departure in the dark, his ears 
 ringing with the wretched creature's yells, mingled with the 
 cracking of the whip and the gallop of the horse. 
 
 During dinner, as tears again came to his eyes at the sight 
 of Saturnin's empty chair, his wife, not understanding, ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " Come, that is enough, sir, is it not 1 I trust you are not 
 going to assist at your daughter's marriage with that funereal- 
 looking face. Listen ! on all I hold most holy, on my father's 
 grave, her uncle will pay the first ten thousand francs. I will 
 answer for it ! He pledged me his oath he would, when we 
 were leaving the notary's." 
 
 Monsieur Josserand did not even reply. He passed the 
 night in addressing wrappers. At daylight, in the chill of the 
 morning, he finished his second thousand, and had earned six 
 francs. Several times he had raised his head, as he had a 
 habit of doing, to listen if Saturnin were not moving in his 
 room near by. Then the thought of Berthe renewed his ardour 
 for work. Poor child ! she would have liked to have been 
 dressed in white moire. However, with six francs she could 
 add a few more flowers to her bridal bouquet.
 
 144 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE marriage before the mayor had taken place on the Thurs- 
 day. On the Saturday morning, as early as a quarter past ten, 
 some ladies were already waiting in the Josserands' drawing- 
 room, the religious ceremony being fixed for eleven o'clock, at 
 Saint-Roch. There were Madame Juzeur, always in black silk ; 
 Madame Dambreville, tightly laced in a costume of the colour 
 of dead leaves ; and Madame Duveyrier, dressed very simply in 
 pale blue. All three were conversing in Idw tones amongst the 
 scattered chairs ; whilst Madame Josserand was finishing dress- 
 ing Berthe in the adjoining room, assisted by the servant and 
 the two bridesmaids, Hortense and little Campardon. 
 
 " Oh ! it is not that," murmured Madame Duveyrier ; " the 
 family is honourable. But, I admit, I rather dreaded on my 
 brother Auguste's account the mother's domineering spirit. 
 One cannot be too careful, can one ? " 
 
 " No doubt," said Madame Juzeur ; " one not only marries 
 the daughter, one often marries the mother as well, and it is 
 very unpleasant when the latter interferes in the home." 
 
 At this moment, the door of the inner room opened, and 
 Augele rushed out, exclaiming : 
 
 " A hook, at the bottom of the left hand drawer. Wait a 
 moment." 
 
 She flew across the drawing-room, returned and disappeared 
 ajrain, with her white skirt, fastened at the waist by a broad 
 blue ribbon, following her like the foam in the wake of a ship. 
 
 " You are mistaken, I think," resumed Madame Dambreville. 
 " The mother is only too happy at being rid of her daughter. 
 Her sole passion is her Tuesdays at home. Besides, she has 
 still another victim." 
 
 Madame Valerie now entered in a red costume of provoking 
 singularity. She had come upstairs too quickly, fearing she 
 was late. 
 
 " Theophile will never be ready," said she to her sister-in-law. 
 " You know, I sent Franchise about her business this morning,
 
 PIPING HOT! 145 
 
 and he is looking everywhere for a tie. I left him in the midst 
 of such confusion ! " 
 
 " The question of health is also a very serious one," continued 
 Madame Dambreville. 
 
 " No doubt," replied Madame Duveyrier. " We discreetly 
 consulted Doctor Juillerat. It appears that the young girl is 
 perfectly well formed. As for the mother, she has one of those 
 surprising constitutions ; and that partly helped to decide us, 
 for nothing is more annoying than having infirm relatives to 
 look after. Healthy relations are far better." 
 
 " Especially," said Madame Juzeur in her gentle voice, " when 
 they will not leave anything behind them." 
 
 Valerie had seated herself; but not knowing what the topic 
 of conversation was, she a&ked, still out of breath : 
 
 " Eh ? of whom are you speaking ?" 
 
 But the door again opened suddenly, and the sounds of a 
 quarrel issued from the inner room. 
 
 " I tell you the box was left on the table." 
 
 " It is not true, I saw it here just now." 
 
 " Oil ! you obstinate mule ! Go and see for yourself." 
 
 Hortense, also in white, and with a broad blue waistband, 
 crossed the drawing-room, looking older, with her hard features 
 and her yellow complexion, amidst the transparent paleness of 
 the muslin. She returned in a fury with the bridal bouquet, 
 which they had been passionately seeking for five minutes past 
 in the disordered room. 
 
 " However, it is no use being too particular," said Madame 
 Dambreville, in conclusion, " one never marries as one would 
 wish. The wisest thing is to make the best one can of it after- 
 wards." 
 
 This time Angele and Hortense opened the folding-doors wido 
 so that the bride should not catch her dress in anything ; and 
 Berthe appeared in a white silk dress, all gay with white flowers, 
 with a white wreath, a white bouquet, and a white garland, 
 which crossed the skirt, and was lost in the train in a shower of 
 little white buds. She looked charming amidst all this white- 
 ness, with her fresh complexion, her golden hair, her laughing 
 eyes, and her candid mouth of an already enlightened girl. 
 
 " Oh ! delicious ! " exclaimed the ladies. 
 
 They all embraced her with an air of ecstasy. The Josserands, 
 at their wits' end, not knowing where to obtain the two thou- 
 sand francs which the wedding would cost them, five hundred 
 francs for dress, and fifteen hundred francs for their share of 
 
 K
 
 KG PIPING HOT! 
 
 the dinner and ball, had been obliged to send Berthe to Doctor 
 Chassague's to see Saturnin, to whom an aunt had just left three 
 thousand francs ; and Berthe, having obtained permission to 
 take her brother out for a drive, by way of amusing him, had 
 smothered him with caresses in the cab, and had then gone with 
 him for a minute to the notary, who was unaware of the poor 
 creature's condition, and who had everything ready for his sig- 
 nature. The silk dress and the abundance of flowers surprised 
 the ladies, who were reckoning up the cost whilst giving vent to 
 their admiration. 
 
 " Perfect ! in most exquisite taste ! " 
 
 Madame Josserand appeared, beaming, in a mauve dress of an 
 unpleasant hue, which made her look taller and rounder than 
 ever, with the majesty of a tower. She fumed about Monsieur 
 Josserand, called to Hortense to find her shawl, and vehemently 
 forbade Berthe to sit down. 
 
 " Take care, you will crush your flowers ! " 
 
 " Do not worry yourself," said Clotilde, in her calm voice. 
 " We have plenty of time. Auguste is coming for us." 
 
 They were all waiting in tho drawing-room, when The'ophile 
 abruptly burst in, his dress-coat askew, his white cravat tied 
 like a piece of cord, and without his hat. His face, with its few 
 hairs and bad teeth, was livid ; his limbs, like an ailing child's, 
 were trembling with fury. 
 
 "What is the matter with you?" asked his sister in amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 " The matter is the matter is " 
 
 But a fit of coughing interrupted him, and he stood there for 
 a minute, choking, spitting in his handkerchief, and enraged at 
 being unable to give vent to his auger. Valerie looked at him, 
 confused, and warned by a sort of instinct. At length, he shook 
 his fist at her, without even noticing the bride and the other 
 ladies around him. 
 
 " Yes, whilst looking everywhere for my necktie, I found a 
 letter in front of the wardrobe." 
 
 He crumpled a pie.ce of paper between his febrile fingers. 
 His wife had turned pale. She realised the situation ; and, to 
 avoid the scandal of a public explanation, she passed into the 
 room that Berthe had just left. 
 
 u Ah ! well," said she, simply, " I prefer to leave if he is go- 
 ing mad." 
 
 " Let me alone ! " cried Theophile to Madame Duveyrier, who 
 was trying to quiet him. " I intend to confound her. This
 
 PIPING HOT 147 
 
 time I have a proof, and there is no doubt, oh, no ! It shall not 
 pass off like that, for I know him 
 
 His sister had seized him by the arm, and squeezing it, shook 
 him authoritatively. 
 
 " Hold your tongue ! don't you see where you are ? This is 
 not the proper time, understand ! " 
 
 But he started off again : 
 
 " It is the proper time ! I don't care a hang for the others. 
 So much the worse that it happens to-day ! It will serve as a 
 lesson to everyone." 
 
 However, he lowered his voice, his strength failing him, he 
 had dropped on to a chair, ready to burst into tears. An un- 
 comfortable feeling had invaded the drawing room. Madame 
 Dambreville and Madame Juzeur had politely gone to the other 
 end of the apartment, and pretended not to understand. Madame 
 Josserand, greatly annoyed at an adventure, the scandal of which 
 would cast a gloom over the wedding, had passed into the bed- 
 room to cheer up Valerie. As for Berthe, who was studying her 
 wreath before the looking-glass, she had not heard anything. 
 Therefore, she questioned Hortense in a low voice. They whis- 
 pered together ; the latter indicated Theophile with a glance, and 
 added some explanations, whilst pretending to arrange the fall 
 of the veil. 
 
 " Ah ! " simply said the bride, with a chaste and amused look, 
 her eyes fixed on the husband, without the least sign of confusion 
 in her halo of white flowers. 
 
 Clotilde softly asked her brother for particulars. Madame 
 Josserand reappeared, exchanged a few words with her, and then 
 returned to the adjoining room. It was an exchange of diploma- 
 tic notes. The husband accused Octave, that counter-jumper, 
 whom he would chastise in church, if he dared to come there. 
 He swore he had seen him the previous day with his wife on 
 the steps of Saint-Roch ; he had had a doubt before, but now 
 he was sure of it everything tallied, the height, the walk. 
 Yes, madame invented luncheons with lady friends, or else she 
 went inside Saint-Roch with Camille, through the same door as 
 everyone, as though to say her prayers ; then, leaving the child 
 with the woman who let out the chairs, she would make off with 
 her gentleman by the old way, a dirty passage, where no one 
 would have gone to look for her. However, Valerie had smiled 
 on hearing Octave's name mentioned ; never with that one, she 
 pledged her oath to Madame Josserand, with nobody at all for 
 the matter of that, she added, but less with him than with any-
 
 148 PIPING HOT! 
 
 one else ; and, this time, with truth on her side, she in her turn 
 talked of confounding her husband, by proving to him that the 
 note was no more in Octave's handwriting than that Octave 
 was the gentleman of Saiut-Roch. Madame Josserand listened 
 to her, studying her with her experienced glance, and solely pre- 
 occupied with finding some means of helping her to deceive 
 The"ophile. And she gave her the very best advice. 
 
 " Leave all to me, don't move in the matter. As he chooses, 
 it shall be Monsieur Mouret, well ! it shall be Monsieur Mouret. 
 There is no harm in being seen on the steps of a church with 
 Monsieur Mouret, is there ? The letter alone is compromising. 
 You will triumph when our young friend shows him a couple of 
 lines of his own handwriting. Above all, say just the same as I 
 say. You understand, I don't intend to let him spoil such a 
 day as this." 
 
 When she returned into the room with Vale'rie, who was 
 greatly affected, The"ophile, on his side, was saying to his sister 
 in a choking voice : 
 
 " I will do so for you, I promise not to disfigure her here, as 
 you assure me it would scarcely be proper, on account of this 
 wedding. But I cannot be answerable for what may take place 
 at church. If the counter-jumper comes and beards me there, 
 in the midst of my own family, I will exterminate them one 
 after the other." 
 
 Auguste, looking very correct in his black dress-coat, his left 
 eye shrunk up, suffering from a headache which he had been 
 dreading for three days past, arrived at this moment, accom- 
 panied by his father and his brother-in-law, both looking very 
 solemn, to fetch his bride. There was a little jostling, for they 
 had ended by being late. Two of the ladies, Madame Duveyrier 
 and Madame Dambreville, had to help Madame Josserand put 
 on her shawl ; it was an immense tapestry shawl, with a yellow 
 ground, which she continued to wear on great occasions, though 
 it had long ago passed out of fashion, and which draped hsr so 
 amply and so strikingly that she quite revolutionized the streets 
 through which she passed. They had still to wait for Monsieur 
 Josserand, who was looking under the furniture for a stud swept 
 away the day before with the dust. At length he appeared, 
 stammering excuses, looking bewildered, yet happy, and he led 
 the way downstairs, tightly pressing Berthe's arm beneath his 
 own. Behind them came Auguste and Madame Josserand. 
 Then followed the rest of the company at hap-hazard, disturbing 
 the grave silence of the vestibule with the buzz of their conver-
 
 PIPING HOT! 149 
 
 sation. The'ophile had seized hold of Duveyrier, whose dignity 
 he upset with his story ; aud he poured his complaints into his 
 ear, requesting advice, whilst in front of them Vale'rie, quite re- 
 covered, and very modest in her attitude, received Madame 
 Juzeur's tender encouragements without appearing to notice her 
 husband's terrible looks. 
 
 " And your prayer-book ! " exclaimed Madame Josserand 
 suddenly, in a voice of despair. 
 
 They were then in the carriages. Angele was obliged to run 
 up and fetch the prayer-book bound in white velvet. At last 
 they started. All the household was there, the servants, the 
 doorkeepers. Marie Piohon had come down with Lilitte, dressed 
 as though for a walk ; and the sight of the bride, looking so 
 pretty and so beautifully dressed, brought tears to her eyes. 
 Monsieur Gourd noticed that the people of the second floor alone 
 had not come out of their apartments curious tenants who 
 always acted differently to others ! 
 
 At Saint-Roch, the big double doors were opened wide. A 
 red carpet covered the steps down to the pavement. It was 
 raining ; the May morning was very cold. 
 
 " Thirteen steps," said Madame Juzeur in a low voice to 
 Valei'ie when they had passed through the doorway. " It is 
 not a good sign." 
 
 As soon as the procession had entered the passage between 
 the chairs, walking towards the chancel, where the tapers of 
 the altar were shining like stars, the organs over the couples' 
 heads broke out into a song of joy. It was a warm pleasant 
 church, with its big white windows, edged with yellow and pale 
 blue, its red marble dados ornamenting the walls and pillars, 
 its gilded pulpit supported by the four evangelists, and its 
 side-chapels bright with gold and silver plate. Some paintings 
 enlivened the vaulted roof. Crystal chandeliers hung from the 
 ends of long cords. When the ladies passed over the broad 
 gratings of the heating apparatus, the hot air penetrated their 
 skirts. 
 
 "Are you sure you have the ring?" inquired Madame 
 Josserand of Auguste, who was seating himself with Berthe on 
 the arm-chairs placed before the altar. 
 
 He had a fright, fancying he had forgotten it, then felt it in 
 his waistcoat pocket. She had, however, not waited for his 
 answer. Ever since she entered, she had been standing on tip- 
 toe, searching the company with her glance. There were 
 Trublot and Gueulin, both best men, uncle Bachelard and
 
 150 PIPING HOT! 
 
 Campardon, the bride's witnesses, Duveyrier and Doctor 
 Juillerat, the bridegroom's witnesses, and all the crowd of 
 acquaintances of whom she was proud. But she had just caught 
 sight of Octave, who was assiduously opening a passage for 
 Madame Hedouin, and she drew him behind a pillar, where she 
 spoke to him in low and rapid tones. The young man, a look 
 of bewilderment on his face, did not appear to understand. 
 However, he bowed with an air of amiable obedience. 
 
 " It is settled," whispered Madame Josserand in Valerie's ear, 
 returning and seating herself in one of the arm-chairs placed for 
 the members of the family, behind those of Berthe and Auguste. 
 Monsieur Josserand, the Vabres, and the Duveyriers were also 
 there. 
 
 The organs were now giving forth scales of clear little notes, 
 broken by big pants. There was quite" a crush, the choir was 
 filling up, and men remained standing in the aisles. The 
 Abbe Mauduit had reserved to himself the joy of blessing the 
 union of one of his dear penitents. When he appeared in his 
 surplice, he exchanged a friendly smile with the congregation, 
 every face there being familiar to him. Some voices com- 
 menced the Veni Creator, the organs resumed their song of 
 triumph, and it was at this moment that Theophile discovered 
 Octave, to the left of the chancel, standing before the chapel of 
 Saint-Joseph. 
 
 His sister Clotilde tried to detain him. 
 
 " I cannot," stammered he ; "I will never submit to it." 
 
 And he made Duveyrier follow him, to represent the family. 
 The Veni Creator continued. A few persons looked round. 
 
 Theophile, who had talked of blows, was in such a state of 
 agitation when planting himself before Octave that he was 
 unable at first to say a word, vexed at being short and raising 
 himself up on tiptoe. 
 
 " Sir," said he at length, " I saw you yesterday with my 
 wife" 
 
 But the Veni Creator was just coming to an end, and he was 
 quite scared on hearing the sound of his own voice. Moreover, 
 Duveyrier, very much annoyed by the incident, tried to make 
 him understand that the time was badly chosen for an explana- 
 tion. The ceremony had now begun before the altar. After 
 addressing an affecting exhortation to the bride and bridegroom, 
 the priest took the wedding-ring to bless it. 
 
 " Benedic, Domine Deus noster, annulum nuptialem hunc, 
 quern nos in tuo nomine benedidmus "
 
 PIPING HOT ! 151 
 
 Then Theophile plucked up courage to repeat his words in a 
 low voice : 
 
 " Sir, you were in this church yesterday with my wife." 
 
 Octave, still bewildered by what Madame Josserand had said 
 to him, and without having thoroughly understood her, related 
 the little story, however, in an easy sort of way. 
 
 " Yes, I did indeed meet Madame Vabre, and we went and 
 looked at the repairs of the Calvary which my friend Campardon 
 is directing." 
 
 " You admit it," stammered the husband, again overcome by 
 fury, "you admit it " 
 
 Duveyrier was obliged to slap him on the shoulder to calm 
 him. The shrill voice of one of the boy choristers was 
 responding : 
 
 " Amen." 
 
 " And you no doubt recognise this letter," continued 
 Theophile, offering a piece of paper to Octave. 
 
 " Come, not hei'e ! " said the counsellor, thoroughly 
 scandalized. " You are going out of your mind, my dear 
 fellow." 
 
 Octave unfolded the letter. The emotion had increased 
 amongst the congregation. There were whisperings, and 
 nudgings of elbows, and glancing over the tops of prayer-books \ 
 no one was now paying the least attention to the ceremony. 
 The bride and bridegroom alone remained grave and stiff before 
 the priest. Then Berthe, turning her head, caught sight of 
 Theophile getting whiter and whiter as he addressed Octave ; 
 and, from that moment, her mind was absent she kept casting 
 bright side glances in the direction of the chapel of Saint-Joseph. 
 
 Meanwhile, the young man was reading in a low voice : 
 
 "My duck, what bliss yesterday ! Tuesday next, in the con- 
 fessional of the chapel of the Holy Angels." 
 
 The priest, after having obtained from the bridegroom the 
 " yes " of a serious man who signs nothing without reading it, 
 had turned towards the bride. 
 
 " You promise and swear to be faithful to Monsieur Auguste 
 Vabre in all things, like a true wife should be to her husband, 
 in accordance with God's commandment 1 " 
 
 But Berthe, having seen the letter, and full of the thought of 
 the blows she was expecting would be given, was not listening, 
 but was following the scene from beneath her veil. There was 
 an awkward silence. At length she became aware that they 
 were waiting for her.
 
 152 PIPING HOT! 
 
 " Yes, yes," she hastily replied, in a happen-what-may 
 manner. 
 
 The abbe' followed the direction of her glance with surprise ; 
 and, guessing that something unusual was taking place in one 
 of the aisles, he in his turn became singularly absent-minded. 
 The story had now circulated ; every one knew it. The ladies, 
 pale and grave, did not withdraw their eyes from Octave. The 
 men smiled in a discreetly -waggish way. And, whilst Madame 
 Josserand reassured Madame Duveyrier with slight shrugs of 
 her shoulders, Valerie alone seemed to give all her attention to 
 the wedding, beholding nothing else, as though overcome by 
 emotion. 
 
 "My duck, what bliss yesterday "Octave read again, affecting 
 intense surprise. 
 
 Then, returning the letter to the husband, he said : 
 
 " I do not understand it, sir. That writing is not mine. See 
 for yourself." 
 
 And taking from his pocket a note-book in which he wrote 
 down his expenses, like the careful fellow he was, he showed it 
 to Theophile. 
 
 " What ! not your writing ! " stammered the latter. " You 
 are making a fool of me ; it must be your writing." 
 
 The priest had to make the sign of the cross on Berthe's left 
 hand. His eyes elsewhere, he mistook the hand and made it 
 on the right one. 
 
 " Tw. nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spimtus Sancti." 
 
 " Amen" responded the boy chorister, also raising himself up 
 to see. 
 
 In short, the scandal was prevented. Duveyrier proved to 
 poor, bewildered Theophile that the letter could not have been 
 written by Monsieur Mouret. It was almost a disappointment 
 for the congregation. There were sighs, and a few hasty words 
 exchanged. And when every one, still in a state of excite- 
 ment, turned again towards the altar, Berthe and Auguste 
 were man and wife, she without appearing to have been aware 
 of what was going on, he not having missed a word the priest 
 had uttered, giving his whole attention to the matter, only 
 disturbed by his headache, which closed his left eye. 
 
 " The dear children ! " said Monsieur Josserand, absorbed in 
 mind and his voice trembling, to Monsieur Vabre, who ever 
 since the commencement of the ceremony had been busy count- 
 ing the lighted tapers, always making a mistake, and beginning 
 his calculations over again.
 
 PIPING HOT! 153 
 
 But the organs again resounded in the nave, the Abbe 
 Mauduit had reappeared in his chasuble, the choristers were 
 commencing the mass, which was a musical mass of great 
 pomp. Uncle Bachelard, who was going the round of the 
 chapels, read the Latin inscriptions on the tombs, without 
 understanding them ; the Duke de Cr^quy's particularly inter- 
 ested him. Trublot and Gueulin had rejoined Octave, to as- 
 certain the particulars ; and all three were chuckling behind 
 the pulpit. Strains suddenly swelled like tempestuous winds, 
 boy choristers walked about waving censers ; then there were 
 the sounds of a bell, followed by pauses, during which one 
 could hear the priest mumbling at the altar. 
 
 Theophile could not remain still; he stuck to Duveyrier, 
 whom he harassed with his mad reflections, having lost ground, 
 and not understanding how the gentleman of the meeting was 
 not the gentleman of the letter. The rest of the congregation 
 continued to watch his every gesture ; the entire church, with 
 its processions of priests, its Latin, its music, and its incense, 
 excitedly discussed the incident. When, after the Pater, the 
 Abbe Mauduit descended to bestow a final blessing upon the 
 married couple, he glanced inquiringly at the great agitation of 
 the faithful, the women's excited faces, the men's sly laughs, 
 beneath the bright gay light from the windows, and in the 
 midst of the substantial wealth of the nave and chapels. 
 
 " Admit nothing," said Madame Josscrand to Valerie, as the 
 family moved towards the vestry after the mass. 
 
 In the vestry, the married couple and their witnesses first of 
 all wrote their signatures. They were kept waiting, however, 
 by Campardon, who had taken some ladies to inspect the works 
 at the Calvary, at the end of the choir, behind a wooden hoard- 
 ing. He at length arrived, and, apologising, proceeded to 
 cover the register with a big flourish. The Abbe Mauduit had 
 wished to honour the two families by handing round the pen 
 himself, and pointing out with his finger the place where each 
 one was to sign ; and he smiled with his air of amiable, worldly 
 tolerance in the centre of the grave apartment, the woodwork 
 of which retained a continual odour of incense. 
 
 " Well ! mademoiselle," said Campardon to Hortense, " docs 
 not all this make you long to be doing the same ] " 
 
 Then he regretted his want of tact. Hortense, who was the 
 elder sister, bit her lips. She was expecting to have a decisive 
 answer from Verdier that evening at the ball, for she bad been 
 pressing him to choose between her and his creature. There- 
 fore she replied in an unpleasant tone of voice :
 
 154 PIPING HOT! 
 
 " I have plenty of time. Whenever I think proper." 
 
 And, turning her back on the architect, she attacked her 
 brother Leon, who had only just arrived, late as usual. 
 
 "You are nice! papa and mamma are very pleased. Not 
 even able to be in time when one of your sisters is being 
 married ! We were expecting you at least with Madame 
 Dambreville." 
 
 " Madame Dambreville does what she pleases," said the 
 young man curtly, " and I do what I can." 
 
 A coolness had arisen between them. Leon considered that 
 she was keeping him too long for her own use, and was weary 
 of a connection the burden of which he had accepted in the 
 sole hope of its leading to some grand marriage ; and for a 
 fortnight past he had been requesting her to keep her promises. 
 Madame Dambreville, carried away by a passion of love, had 
 even complained to Madame Josserand of what she termed her 
 son's crotchets. And the latter wished to scold him, reproach- 
 ing him with having neither affection nor regard for his family, 
 as he made a point of missing the most solemn ceremonies. 
 But he gave some explanations in his young democrat's super- 
 cilious voice ; spoke of unexpected work for the deputy whose 
 secretary he was, a conference he had had to prepare, all 
 sorts of things he had had to do, as well as visits to pay of the 
 greatest importance. 
 
 " Yet a marriage is so soon settled ! " said Madame Dam- 
 breville, without thinking of her words, and bestowing on him 
 an imploring look to soften him. 
 
 " Not always ! " retorted he, harshly. 
 
 And he went and kissed Berthe, then shook his new brother- 
 in-law's hand, whilst Madame Dambreville turned pale with 
 anguish, drawing herself up in her costume of the colour of 
 dead leaves and smiling vaguely towards the persons who 
 entered. 
 
 It was the procession of friends, of simple acquaintances, of 
 all the guests gathered together in the church, which now 
 passed through the vestry. The newly-married couple, stand- 
 ing up, were continually distributing hand-shakes, and in- 
 variably with the same embarrassed and delighted air. The 
 Josserands and the Duveyriers were not always able to go 
 through the introductions. At times they looked at each other 
 in surprise, for Bachelard had brought persons whom nobody 
 knew and who talked too loud. Little by little everything 
 gave way to confusion ; there was quite a crush, hands were
 
 PIPING HOT! 156 
 
 held out over the heads, young girls squeezed between pot- 
 bellied gentlemen, left pieces of their white skirts on the legs 
 of these fathers, these brothers, these uncles, still sweating with 
 some vice, enfranchised in a quiet neighbourhood. Away from 
 the crowd, Gueulin and Trublot were relating to Octave how 
 Clarisse had almost been caught by Duveyrier the night before, 
 and had now resigned herself to smothering him with caresses, 
 so as to shut his eyes. 
 
 "Hallo!" murmured Gueulin, "he is kissing the bride; it 
 must smell nice." 
 
 The congregation, however, had gradually dispersed. Only 
 the relations and the intimate friends remained. The story of 
 Theophile's misfortune had continued to circulate, amidst the 
 hand-shakes and the compliments ; in fact, after the stereotyped 
 phrases exchanged for the occasion, nothing else was talked 
 about. Madame Hedouin, who had just heard the story, looked 
 at Valerie with the surprise of a woman whose virtue is her 
 very health. No doubt the Abb Mauduit had also been made 
 acquainted with the matter, for his curiosity appeared to be 
 satisfied, and he displayed more unction than usual, amidst the 
 hidden frailties of his flock. Another gaping wound, suddenly 
 bleeding, over which he would have to throw the mantle of 
 religion ! And he took Theophile aside fora minute, and talked 
 to him discreetly of forgiving injuries and of the Almighty's 
 impenetrable designs, seeking above all to stifle scandal, en- 
 veloping those present in a gesture of pity and despair, as 
 though to hide their shame from heaven itself. 
 
 " He is all very fine, the parson ! he does not know what it 
 is ! " murmured Theophile, whose head was completely upset 
 by the sermon. 
 
 Valerie, who kept Madame Juzeur near her to help her to 
 keep her countenance, listened with emotion to the conciliatory 
 words which the Abbe Mauduit also considered it his duty to 
 address to her. Then, as they were at length leaving the 
 church, she paused before the two fathers, to allow Berthe to 
 pass on her husband's arm. 
 
 "You ought to be satisfied," said she to Monsieur Josserand, 
 wishing to show how free her mind was. " I congratulate you." 
 
 " Yes, yes," declared Monsieur Vabre in his clammy voice, 
 " it is a very great responsibility the less." 
 
 And, whilst Trublot and Gueulin rushed about seeing all the 
 ladies to the carriages, Madame Josserand, whose shawl 
 attracted quite a crowd, obstinately insisted on remaining
 
 156 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 the last on the pavement, publicly to display her maternal 
 triumph. 
 
 The repast that evening at the Hotel du Louvre was likewise 
 marred by Theophile's unlucky affair. The latter was quite a 
 plague, it had been the topic of conversation all the afternoon 
 in the carriages during the drive in the Bois de Boulogne ; and 
 the ladies always came to this conclusion, that the husband 
 ought at least to have waited until the morrow before finding 
 the letter. None but the most intimate friends of both families 
 sat down to table. The only lively episode was a speech from 
 uncle Bachelard, whom the Josserands could not very well 
 avoid inviting, in spite of their terror. He was drunk, indeed, 
 as early as the roast : he raised his glass, and commenced with 
 these words : " I am happy in the joy I feel," which he kept re- 
 peating, unable to say anything further. The other guests 
 smiled complacently. Auguste and Berthe, already worn out, 
 looked at each other every now and then, with an air of surprise 
 at seeing themselves opposite one another; and, when they 
 remembered how this was, they gazed in their plates in a con- 
 fused way. 
 
 Nearly two hundred invitations had been issued for the ball. 
 The guests began to arrive as early as half-past nine. Three 
 chandeliers lit up the large red drawing-room, in which only 
 some seats along the walls had been left, whilst at one end, in 
 front of the fire-place, the little orchestra was installed ; more- 
 over, a bar had been placed at the farthest end of an adjoining 
 room, and the two families also had a small apartment into 
 which they could retire. 
 
 As Madame Duveyrier and Madame Josserand were receiving 
 the first arrivals, that poor Theophile, who had been watched 
 ever since the morning, was guilty of a most regrettable piece 
 of brutality. Campardon was asking Valerie to grant him the 
 first waltz. She laughed, and the husband took it as a pro- 
 vocation. 
 
 " You laugh ! you laugh ! " stammered he. " Tell me who'the 
 letter is from ? It must be from somebody, that letter must." 
 
 He had taken the entire afternoon to disengage that one idea 
 from the confusion into which Octave's answers had plunged 
 him. Now, he stuck to it : if it was not Monsieur Mouret, it was 
 then some one else, and he demanded a name. As Valerie was 
 walking off without answering him, he seized hold of her arm 
 and twisted it spitefully, with the rage of an exasperated child, 
 repeating the while :
 
 PIPING HOT! 157 
 
 " I'll break it Tell me, who is the letter from ? " 
 
 The young woman, frightened, and stifling a cry of pain, had 
 become quite white. Campardon felt her abandoning her- 
 self against his shoulder, succumbing to one of those nervous 
 attacks which would shake her for hours together. He had 
 scarcely time to lead her into the apartment reserved for the 
 two families, where he laid her on a sofa. Some ladies bad fol- 
 lowed him, Madame Juzeur, Madame Dambreville, who unlaced 
 her, whilst he discreetly retired. 
 
 However, only three or four people at most in the drawing- 
 room had noticed this brief display of violence. Madame Du- 
 veyrier and Madame Josserand continued to receive the guests, 
 the stream of whom gradually filled the vast apartment with 
 light costumes and black dress suits. A murmur of amiable 
 words arose, and faces continually smiled around the bride : the 
 broad countenances of fathers and mothers, the skinny profiles 
 of young girls, the fine and compassionate heads of % young 
 women. At the end of the room a violinist was tuning his 
 first string, which sent forth little plaintive cries. 
 
 " Sir, I beg your pardon," said Theophile, going up to Octave, 
 whose eyes he had encountered when twisting his wife's arm. 
 " Every one in my place would have suspected you, is it not so ? 
 But I wish to shake hands with you, to prove to you that I admit 
 myself to have been in the wrong." 
 
 He shook hands with him, and led him on one side, tortured 
 by a necessity to unbosom himself, to find a confidant for the 
 outpourings of his heart. 
 
 " Ah ! sir, if I were to tell you " 
 
 And he talked for a long while of his wife. When a yoxing 
 girl, she was delicate, it was said jokingly that marriage would 
 set her right. She had not sufficient air in her parents' shop, 
 where eveiy evening for three months she had appeared to him 
 very nice, obedient, of a rather sad disposition, but charming. 
 
 " Well ! sir, marriage did not set her right, far from it. After 
 a few weeks she became terrible, we could no longer agree to- 
 gether. There were quarrels about nothing at all. Changes of 
 temper at every minute, laughing, crying, without my knowing 
 why. And absurd sentiments, ideas that would knock a person 
 down, a perpetual mania for making people wild. In short, sir, 
 my home has become a hell." 
 
 " It is very remarkable," murmured Octave, who felt a neces- 
 sity for saying something. 
 
 Then, the husband, ghastly pale, and drawing himself up on
 
 158 PIPING HOT! 
 
 his short legs, to override the ridiculous, came to what he called 
 the wretched woman's bad behaviour. Twice he had suspected 
 her; but he was too honourable, he could not retain such an 
 idea in his head. This time, though, he was obliged to yield to 
 evidence. It was not possible to doubt, was it ? And, with his 
 trembling fingers, he felt the pocket of his waistcoat which con- 
 tained the letter. 
 
 " If she did it for money, I might understand it," added he. 
 " But they never give her any, I am sure of that, I should know 
 it. Then, tell me what it can be that she has in her skin 1 I 
 am very nice myself, she has everything at home, I cannot 
 understand it. If you can understand it, sir, explain it to me, 
 I beg of you." 
 
 " It is very curious, very curious," repeated Octave, embar- 
 rassed by all these disclosures, and trying to make his escape. 
 
 But the husband, iu a state of fever, and tormented by a want 
 of certitude, would not let him go. At this moment, Madame 
 Juzeur reappearing, went and whispered a word to Madame Jos- 
 serand, who was greeting the arrival of a big jeweller of the 
 Palais-Royal with a grand curtsey; and she, quite upset, hastened 
 to follow her. 
 
 " I think that your wife has a very violent attack," observed 
 Octave to Theophile. 
 
 " Never mind her ! " replied the latter in a fury, vexed at not 
 being ill so as to be coddled up also, " she is only too pleased to 
 have an attack ! It always puts everyone on her side. My 
 health is no better than hers, yet I have never deceived her ! " 
 
 Madame Josserand did not return. The rumour circulated 
 among the intimate friends that Valerie was struggling in fright- 
 ful convulsions. There should have been men present to hold 
 her down ; but, as they had been obliged to half undress her, 
 they declined Trublot's and Gueulin's offers of assistance. The 
 orchestra was now playing a quadrille, and Berthe was opening 
 the ball with Duveyrier, who danced like a judge, whilst, not 
 having been able to discover Madame Josserand, Auguste faced 
 them with Hortense. The attack was kept a profound secret 
 from the young married couple for fear of dangerous emotions. 
 The ball was becoming lively, peals of laughter resounded in the 
 brilliant light of the chandeliers. A polka, which the violins 
 next gave out in a sprightly style, whirled the couples round 
 the vast drawing-room, amidst an endless string of long trains. 
 
 " Doctor Juillerat ! where is Doctor Juillerat 1" asked Madame 
 Josserand, rushing back into the room.
 
 PIPING HOT! 159 
 
 The doctor had been invited, but no one had as yet seen him. 
 Then she no longer strove to hide the slumbering rage which 
 had been collecting within her since the morning. She spoke 
 out before Octave and Campardon, without mincing her words. 
 
 "I am beginning to have enough of it. It is not very 
 pleasant for my daughter, all this cuckoldom paraded before 
 us!" 
 
 She looked about for Hortense, and at length caught sight of 
 her talking to a gentleman, of whom she could only see the 
 back, but whom she recognised by its breadth. It was Verdier. 
 This increased her ill-humour. She sharply called the young 
 girl to her, and, lowering her voice, told her that she would do 
 better to remain at her mother's disposal on such a day as that. 
 Hortense did not listen to the reprimand. She was triumphant, 
 Verdier had just fixed their marriage at two months from then, 
 in June. 
 
 " Shut up ! " said the mother. 
 
 " I assure you, mamma. He already sleeps out three nights 
 a week so as to accustom the other to it, and in a fortnight he 
 will stop away altogether. Then it will be all over, and I shall 
 have him." 
 
 " Shut up ! I have already had more than enough of your 
 romance ! You will just oblige me by waiting near the door 
 for Doctor Juillerat, and by sending him to me the moment he 
 arrives. And, above all, not a word of all this to your sister ! " 
 
 She returned to the adjoining room, leaving Hortense mut- 
 tering that, thank goodness ! che required no one's approbation, 
 and that they would all be nicely caught one day, when they 
 saw her make a better marriage than the others. Yet, she 
 went to the door, and watched for the doctor's arrival. 
 
 The orchestra was now playing a waltz. Berthe was dancing 
 with one of her husband's young cousins, so as to dispose of the 
 relations in turn. Madame Duveyrier had been unable to refuse 
 uncle Bachelard, who inconvenienced her a great deal by breath- 
 ing in her face. The heat increased, the refreshment bar was 
 already crowded with gentlemen wiping their foreheads. Some 
 little girls were jumping together in a corner ; whilst several 
 mothers sat musing away from the dancers, thinking of the 
 marriages their daughters had so often missed. Congratulations 
 were showered upon the two fathers, Monsieur Vabre and Mon- 
 sieur Josserand, who did not leave each other a moment, with- 
 out their exchanging, however, a word. All the guests had an 
 air of amusing themselves immensely, and expatiated before them
 
 160 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 on the liveliness of the ball. It was, according to Campardon, 
 a liveliness of a good standard. 
 
 The architect, with an effusion of gallantry, concerned himself 
 a great deal about Valerie's condition, without, however, missing 
 a dance. He had the idea to send his daughter Augele for news 
 in his name. The child, whose fourteen years had been burn- 
 ing with curiosity since the morning around the lady that every- 
 one was talking about, was delighted at being able to penetrate 
 into the little room. And, as she did not return, the architect 
 was obliged to take the liberty of slightly opening the door and 
 thrusting his head in. He beheld his daughter standing up 
 beside the sofa, deeply absorbed by the sight of Valerie, whose 
 bosom, shaken by spasms, had escaped from the unhooked 
 bodice. Protestations arose, the ladies called to him not to 
 come in ; and he withdrew, assuring them that he merely wished 
 to know how she was getting on. 
 
 "She is no better, she is no better," said he, in a melancholy 
 way to the persons who happened to be near the door. " There 
 are four of them holding her. How strong a woman must be, 
 to be able to bound about like that without hurting herself ! " 
 
 A small group had formed there. They discussed, in an 
 undertone, the slightest phases of the attack. Some ladies, 
 hearing of what was taking place, would come between two quad- 
 rilles, enter the little room with an air of pity, and then return 
 in a few minutes and give the gentlemen the latest particulars, 
 and go and rejoin the dance. It was a regular corner of mys- 
 tery, words whispered in each other's ears, glances exchanged, 
 in the midst of the increasing hubbub. And, alone and aban- 
 doned, Theophile walked up and down before the door, rendered 
 quite ill by the fixed idea that he was being made a fool of, and 
 that he ought not to suffer it. 
 
 But Doctor Juillerat quickly crossed the ballroom, accom- 
 panied by Hortense, who was explaining matters to him. 
 Madame Duveyrier followed them. Some persons showed their 
 surprise, more rumours circulated. Scarcely had the doctor 
 disappeared than Madame Josserand left the little room with 
 Madame Dambreville. Her rage was increasing ; she had just 
 emptied two water bottles over Valerie's head ; never before had 
 she seen a woman as nervous as that. Then she had decided 
 to make the round of the ballroom, so as to stop all remarks by 
 her presence. Only, she walked with such a terrible step, she 
 distributed such sour smiles, that everyone behind her was let 
 into the secret.
 
 VALERIE ix HYSTERICS AT THE WEDDING BALL. 
 
 p. 160.
 
 PIPING HOT! Ifil 
 
 Madame Dambreville did not leave her. Ever since the 
 morning she had been speaking to her of Le"on, making vague 
 complaints, trying to bring her to speak to her son, so as to 
 patch up their connection. She drew her attention to him, as 
 he was conducting a tall, scraggy girl back to her place, and to 
 whom he made a show of being very assiduous. 
 
 " He abandons us," said she, with a slight laugh, trembling 
 with suppressed tears. "Scold him now, for not so much as 
 'coking at us." 
 
 " Leon ! " called Madame Josserand. 
 
 When he came to her, she added roughly, not being in the 
 temper to choose her words : 
 
 " Why are you angry with madame ? She bears you no ill- 
 will. Make it up with her. It does no good being ill-tem- 
 pered." 
 
 And she left them embarrassed before each other. Madame 
 Dambreville took Leon's arm, and they went and conversed in 
 the recess of a window ; then they tenderly left the ballroom 
 together. She had sworn to arrange his marriage in the 
 lutumn. 
 
 Madame Josserand, who continued distributing smiles, was 
 overcome by emotion when she found herself before Berthe, who 
 was out of breath at having danced so much, and looked quite 
 rosy in her white dress, which was becoming rumpled. She 
 clasped her in her arms, and almost fainted away at a vague 
 association of ideas, recalling, no doubt, the other one, whose 
 face was so frightfully convulsed : 
 
 " My poor darling, my poor darling ! " murmured she, giving 
 her two big kisses. 
 
 Then Berthe calmly asked : 
 
 "How is she?" 
 
 At this, Madame Josserand at once became very sour again. 
 What ! Berthe knew it ! Why of course she knew it, everyone 
 knew it. Her husband alone, whom she pointed out conducting 
 an old lady to the refreshment bar, was still ignorant of the 
 story. She even intended to get some one to tell him everything, 
 for it made him appear too stupid to be always behind everyone 
 else, and never to know anything. 
 
 " And I, who have been slaving to hide the catastrophe ! " 
 said Madame Josserand, beside herself. " Ah, well ! I shall not 
 put myself out any more, it must be put a stop to. I will not 
 tolerate their making you ridiculous." 
 
 Everyone did indeed know it. Only, so as not to cast a gloom 
 
 L
 
 162 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 over the ball, it was not talked about. The orchestra had 
 smothered the first words of sympathy ; now, in the greater 
 freedom of the couples, everyone proceeded to smile at the affair. 
 It was very hot, night was drawing on apace. Waiters handed 
 round refreshments. On a sofa, two little girls, overcome by 
 fatigue, had fallen asleep in each other's arms, their faces close 
 together. Near the orchestra, in the deep tones of a double 
 bass, Monsieur Vabre had brought himself to talk to Monsieur 
 Josserand of his great task, with respect to a doubt which, for a 
 fortnight past, he had felt concerning the real works of two 
 painters of the same name whilst, close by, Duveyrier, in the 
 centre of a group, was energetically blaming the Emperor for 
 having authorised the production of a piece attacking society at 
 the Comedie-Frangaise. But, whenever a waltz or a polka was 
 struck up, the men had to vacate their position, couples whirled 
 round the room, trains swept the floor, raising in the bright light 
 a fine dust amidst the musky odour of the costumes. 
 
 " She is better," Campardou, who had taken another peep, 
 hastened to say. " One can go in." 
 
 A few male friends ventured to enter. Valerie was still lying 
 down, only, the attack was passing off; and, out of decency, 
 they had covered her bosom with a napkin, found lying on a 
 sideboard. Madame Juzeur and Madame Duveyrier were stand- 
 ing before the window listening to Doctor Juillerat, who was 
 explaining that the attacks sometimes yielded to hot water ap- 
 plications to the neck. But the invalid, having seen Octave 
 enter with Campardon, called him to her by a sign, and spoke 
 a few incoherent words to him in a final hallucination. He 
 had to sit down beside her, at the doctor's express order, who was 
 desirous above all not to thwart her ; and thus the young man 
 listened to her disclosures, he who, during the evening, had 
 already heard the husband's. She trembled with fright, she 
 took him for her lover, and implored him to hide her. Then she 
 recognised him, and burst into tears, thanking him for his lie of 
 the morning during the mass. Octave thought of that other 
 attack, of which he had wished to take advantage, with the 
 greedy desire of a schoolboy. Now, he was her friend, and she 
 would tell him everything, perhaps it would be better. 
 
 At this moment, Theophile, who had continued to wander up 
 and down before the door, wished to enter. Other men were 
 there, so he could very well be there himself. But his appearance 
 created a regular panic. On hearing his voice, Valerie was again 
 seized with a fit of trembling, everyone thought she was about
 
 PIPING HOT ! 168 
 
 to have another attack. He, imploring, and struggling amongst 
 the ladies, whose arms thrust him back, kept obstinately re- 
 peating : 
 
 " I only ask her for the name. Let her tell me the name." 
 
 Then, Madame Josserand arriving, gave vent to her wrath. 
 She drew The'ophile into the little room, to hide the scandal, 
 and said to him furiously : 
 
 " Look here ! will you shut up 1 Ever since this morning 
 you have been badgering us with your stupidities. You have 
 no tact, sir ; yes, you have absolutely no tact at all ! One should 
 not harp on such things on a wedding-day." 
 
 " Excuse me, madame," murmured he, " this is my business, 
 and does not concern you ! " 
 
 " What ! it does not concern me ? but I form part of your 
 family now, sir, and do you think your affair amuses me on 
 account of my daughter 1 Ah ! you have given her a pretty 
 wedding ! Not another word, sir, you are deficient in tact ! " 
 
 He stood bewildered, looking around him, seeking some one 
 who would take his part. But the ladies all showed by their 
 coldness that they judged him with equal severity. It was that 
 exactly, he had no tact ; for there are occasions when one should 
 be able to restrain one's passions. Even his own sister would 
 have nothing to do with him. As he still protested, he raised a 
 general revolt. No, no, there was no answer possible, such be- 
 haviour was unheard of ! 
 
 This cry closed his mouth. He was so scared, so feeble look- 
 ing, with his slender limbs, and his face like a girl's, that the 
 ladies smiled slightly. When one had not the facilities for 
 making a woman happy, one ought not to marry. Hortense 
 weighed him with a disdainful glance ; little Angele, whom they 
 had forgotten, hovered round him, with her sly air, as though 
 she had been looking for something ; and he drew back embar- 
 rassed, and blushed when he saw them all, so big and plump, 
 hemming him in with their sturdy hips. But they felt the neces- 
 sity of patching up the matter. Valerie had started off sobbing 
 again, whilst the doctor continued to bathe her temples. Then 
 they understood one another with a glance, a common feeling of 
 defence drew them together. They puzzled their brains, trying 
 to explain the letter to the husband. 
 
 " Pooh ! " murmured Trublot, who had just rejoined Octave, 
 " it is easy enough ; they have only to say the letter was ad- 
 dressed to the servant." 
 
 Madame Josserand heard him. She turned round and looked
 
 164' PIPING HOT! 
 
 at him with a glance full of admiration. Then, turning towards 
 Theophile : 
 
 " Does an innocent woman lower herself to give explanations, 
 when accused with such brutality? Still, I may speak. The 
 letter was dropped by Franchise, that maid whom your wife had 
 to pack off on account of her bad conduct. There, are you satis- 
 fied ? do you not blush with shame ? " 
 
 At first, the husband shrugged his shoulders. But the ladies 
 all remained serious, answering his objections with very strong- 
 reasoning. He was shaken, when, to complete his discomfiture, 
 Madame Duveyrier got angry, telling him that his conduct had 
 been abominable, and that she disowned him. Then, vanquished, 
 and feeling a longing to be kissed, he threw his arms round 
 Valerie's neck, and begged her pardon. It was most touching. 
 Even Madame Josserand was deeply affected. 
 
 " It is always best to come to an understanding," said she, 
 with relief. " The day will not end so badly after alL" 
 
 When they had dressed Valerie again, and she appeared in 
 the ballroom on Theophile's arm, the joy seemed to be redoubled. 
 It was close upon three o'clock, the guests were beginning to 
 leave ; but the orchestra continued to get through the quadrilles 
 with great gusto. Some of the men smiled behind the backs 
 of the reconciled couple. A medical remark of Campardon's, 
 respecting that poor The"ophile, quite delighted Madame Juzeur. 
 The young girls hastened to stare at Valerie ; then they put on 
 their stupid looks before their mothers' scandalized glances. 
 Berthe, who was at length dancing with her husband, must 
 have whispered a word or two in his ear ; for Auguste, made 
 aware of what had been taking place, turned his head round, 
 and, without getting out of step, looked at his brother Theophile 
 with the surprise and the superiority of a man to whom such 
 things cannot happen. There was a final gallop, the guests were 
 getting more free in the stifling heat and the reddish light of 
 the candles, the vacillating flames of which caused the pendants 
 of the chandeliers to sparkle. 
 
 " You are very intimate with her ? " asked Madame Hedouin, 
 as she whirled round on Octave's arm, having accepted his in- 
 vitation to dance. 
 
 The young man fancied he felt a slight quiver in her frame, 
 so erect and so calm. 
 
 " Not at all," said he. " They mixed me up in the master, 
 which annoys me immensely. The poor devil swallowed every- 
 thing."
 
 PIPING HOT! 165 
 
 " It is very wrong," declared she, in her grave voice. 
 
 No doubt Octave was mistaken. When he withdrew his arm 
 from her waist, Madame He"douin was not even panting, her 
 eyes were clear, and her hair not the least disarranged. But a 
 scandal upset the end of the ball. Uncle Bachelard, who had 
 finished himself off at the refreshment bar, ventured on a lively 
 idea. He had suddenly been seen dancing a most indecent 
 step before Gueulin. Some napkins rolled round, and stuffed 
 in the front of his buttoned-up coat, gave him the bosom of a 
 wet-nurse ; and two big oranges placed on the napkins, behind 
 the lapels, displayed their roundness, in the sanguineous redness 
 of an excoriated skin. This time everyone protested : though 
 one may earn heaps of money, yet there are limits which a man 
 who respects himself should never go beyond, especially before 
 young persons. Monsieur Josserand, ashamed, and in despair, 
 drew his brother-in-law away. Duveyrier displayed the greatest 
 disgust. 
 
 At four o'clock, the newly-married couple returned to the 
 Rue de Choiseul. They brought Theophile and Valerie back in 
 their carriage. As they went up to the second floor, where an 
 apartment had been prepared for them, they came across Octave, 
 who was also retiring to rest. The young man wished to draw 
 politely on one side, but Berthe made a similar movement, and 
 they knocked up against each other. 
 
 " Oh ! excuse me, mademoiselle," said he. 
 
 The word "mademoiselle" amused them immensely. She 
 looked at him, and he recalled the first glance exchanged be- 
 tween them on that same staircase, a glance of gaiety and 
 daring, the charming welcome of which he again beheld. They 
 understood each other perhaps, she blushed, whilst he went up 
 alone to his room, in the midst of the death-like peacefulness of 
 the upper floors. 
 
 Auguste, with his left eye closed up, half mad with the head- 
 ache which had been clinging to him since the morning, was 
 already in the apartment, where the other members of the 
 family were arriving. Then, at the moment of quitting Berthe, 
 Valerie yielded to a sudden fit of emotion, and pressing her in 
 her arms, and completing the rumpling of her white dress, she 
 kissed her, saying in a low voice : 
 
 " Ah ! my dear, 1 w ish you better luck than I have had ! "
 
 166 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Two days later, towards seven o'clock, as Octave arrived at the 
 Carapardons' for dinner, he found Rose by herself, dressed in a 
 cream-colour dressing-gown, trimmed with white lace. 
 
 " Are you expecting anyone ? " asked he. 
 
 " No," replied she, rather confused. " We will have dinner 
 directly Achille comes in." 
 
 The architect was abandoning his punctual habits, was never 
 there at the proper time for his meals, arrived very red in the 
 face, with a wild expression, and cursing business. Then he 
 went off again every evening, on all kinds of pretexts, talking of 
 appointments at cafes, inventing distant meetings. Octave, on 
 these occasions, would often keep Rose company till eleven 
 o'clock, for he had understood that the husband had him there 
 to board to amuse his wife, and she would gently complain, and 
 tell him her fears : ah ! she left Achille very free, only she was 
 so anxious when he came home after midnight ! 
 
 " Do you not think he has been rather sad lately ? " asked 
 she, in a tenderly frightened tone of voice. 
 
 The young man had not noticed it. 
 
 " I think he is rather worried, perhaps. The works at Saint- 
 Roch cause him some anxiety." 
 
 But she shook her head, without saying anything further 
 about it. Then she was very kind to Octave, questioning him 
 with a motherly and sisterly affection as to how he had employed 
 the day. During nearly nine months that he had been boarding 
 with them, she had always treated him thus as a child of the 
 house. 
 
 At length, the architect appeared. 
 
 "Good evening, my pet; good evening, my duck," said he, 
 kissing her with his doting air of a good husband. " Another fool 
 has been detaining me in the street ! " 
 
 Octave had moved away, and he heard them exchange a few 
 words in a low voice.
 
 flPING HOT ! 167 
 
 " Will she come ? " 
 
 " No, what is the good 1 and, above all, do not worry yourself." 
 
 " You declared to me that she would come." 
 
 " Well ! yes, she is coming. Are you pleased ? It is for your 
 sake that I have done it." 
 
 They took their seats at the table. During the whole of 
 dinner-time they talked of the English language, which little 
 Angele had been learning for a fortnight past. Campardon had 
 suddenly upheld the necessity for a young lady knowing Eng- 
 lish ; and, as Lisa had come to them from an actress who had 
 been to London, each meal was employed in discussing the 
 names of the dishes that she brought in. That evening, after long 
 and fruitless endeavours to pronounce the words "rump steak," 
 they had to send the dish away, Victoire having left it too long 
 at the fire, and the meat being as tough as leather. 
 
 They were taking their dessert, when a ring at the bell caused 
 Madame Campardon to start. 
 
 " It is madame's cousin," Lisa returned and said, in the 
 wounded tone of a servant whom one has omitted to let into a 
 family secret. 
 
 And it was indeed Gasparine who entered. She wore a black 
 woollen dress, looking very quiet, with her thin face, and her 
 air of a poor shop-girl. Rose, tenderly enveloped in her dress- 
 ing-gown of cream-colour silk, and plump and fresh, rose up so 
 moved, that tears filled her eyes. 
 
 "Ah! my dear," murmured she, "you are good. We will 
 forget everything, will we not ? " 
 
 She took her in her arms, and gave her two hearty kisses. 
 Octave discreetly wished to retire. But they grew angry : he 
 could remain, he was one of the family. So he amused himself 
 by looking on. Campardon, at first greatly embarrassed, turned 
 his eyes away from the two women, puffing about, and looking 
 for a cigar ; whilst Lisa, who was roughly clearing the table, 
 exchanged glances with surprised Angele. 
 
 " It is your cousin," at length said the architect to his 
 daughter. "You have heard us speak of her. Come, kiss her 
 now." 
 
 She kissed her with her sullen air, troubled by the sort of 
 governess glance with which Gasparine took stock of her, 
 after asking some questions respecting her age and education. 
 Then, when the others passed into the drawing-room, she pre- 
 ferred to follow Lisa, who slammed the door, saying, without 
 even fearing that she might be heard :
 
 168 PIPING HOT! 
 
 " Ah, well ! it'll become precious funny here now ! " 
 
 In the drawing-room, Campardon, still restless, began to ex- 
 cuse himself. 
 
 " On my word of honour ! the happy idea was not mine. It 
 is Hose who wished to be reconciled. Every morning, for 
 more than a week past, she has been saying to me : ' Now, go 
 and fetch her.' So I ended by fetching you." 
 
 And, as though he had felt the necessity of convincing Octave, 
 he took him up to the window. 
 
 " Well ! women are women. It bothered me, because I have 
 a dread of rows. One on the right, the other on the left, there 
 was no squabbling possible. But I had to give in. Rose sa\ s 
 we shall be far happier thus. Anyhow, we will try. It depends 
 on these two, now, to make my life comfortable." 
 
 Meanwhile, Rose and Gasparine had seated themselves side 
 by side on the sofa. They were talking of the past, of the days 
 lived at Plassans, with good papa Domergue. Rose's complexion 
 was then livid, and she had the slender limbs of a young girl 
 sickly from her birth ; whilst Gasparine, who was a woman at 
 fifteen, was tall and crummy, with beautiful eyes. Looking at 
 each other now, they seemed different people, the one so freshly 
 plump in her enforced chastity, the other dried up by the life 
 of nervous passion which was consuming her. For a moment, 
 Gasparine suffered from her yellow face and her poor dress in 
 the presence of Rose, arrayed in silk, and hiding beneath folds 
 of lace the delicate softness of her white neck. But she mas- 
 tered this twinge of jealousy, she at once accepted the position 
 of a poor relation on her knees before her cousin's elegance and 
 grace. 
 
 " And your health ? " asked she in a low voice. " Achille 
 spoke to me about it. Is it no better ? " 
 
 " No, no," replied Rose in a melancholy tone. " You see, I 
 eat, I look very well. But it gets no better, it will never get 
 any better." 
 
 As she began to cry, Gasparine, in her turn, took her in her 
 arms, and pressed her against her flat and ardent breast, whilst 
 Campardon hastened to console them. 
 
 "Why do you cry?" asked she maternally. "The main 
 thing is that you do not suffer. What does it matter, if you 
 have always people about you to love you ? " 
 
 Rose was becoming calmer, and already smiling amidst her 
 tears. Then the architect, carried away by his feelings, clasped
 
 THE ARCHITECT CLASPS HOSE AND GASPARINE IN THE SAME EMBRACE. 
 
 p. 168.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 169 
 
 them both in the same embrace, kissing them alternately, and 
 stammering : 
 
 " Yes, yes, we will love each other very much, we will love 
 you such a deal, my poor little duck. You will see how well 
 everything will go, now that we are united." 
 
 And, turning towards Octave, he added : 
 
 " Ah ! my dear fellow, people may talk, there is nothing after 
 till like family ties ! " 
 
 The end of the evening was delightful. Campardon, who 
 usually fell asleep on leaving the table if he remained at home, 
 recovered all his artist's gaiety, the old jokes and the broad 
 songs of the School of Fine Arts. When, towards eleven o'clock, 
 Gasparine prepared to leave, Rose insisted on accompanying her 
 to the door, in spite of the difficulty she experienced in walking 
 that day ; and, leaning over the balustrade, in the grave silence 
 of the staircase, she called after her : 
 
 " Come and see us often ! " 
 
 On the morrow, Octave, feeing interested, tried to make the 
 cousin talk at " The Ladies' Paradise," whilst they were re- 
 ceiving a consignment of linen goods together. But she 
 answered curtly, and he felt that she was hostile, annoyed at 
 his having been a witness the evening before. Moreover, she 
 did not like him ; she even displayed a sort of rancour towards 
 him in their business relations. For a long time past she had 
 seen through his game in connection with the mistress, and she 
 assisted at his assiduous courtship with black looks and a con- 
 temptuous curl of the lips, which at times troubled him. 
 Whenever that tall devil of a girl thrust her skinny hands be- 
 tween them, he experienced the decided and disagreeable sensa- 
 tion that Madame He"douin would never be his. 
 
 Octave had given himself six months, however, and though 
 scarcely four had passed, he was becoming impatient. Every 
 morning he asked himself whether he should not hurry matters 
 forward, seeing the little progress he had made in the affections 
 of this woman, always so icy and gentle. She had ended, how- 
 ever, by showing a real esteem for him, won over by his 
 enlarged ideas, his dreams of vast modern warehouses dis- 
 charging millions of merchandise into the streets of Paris. 
 Often, when her husband was not there, and she opened the 
 correspondence with the young man of a morning, she would 
 detain him beside her and consult him, profiting a great deal by 
 his advice, and a sort of commercial intimacy was thus gradually 
 established between them. Their hands met amidst bundles of
 
 170 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 invoices, their breaths mingled as they added up columns of 
 figures, and they yielded to moments of emotion before the open 
 cash-box after some extra fortunate receipts. He even took 
 advantage of these occasions, his tactics being now to reach her 
 heart through her good trader's nature, and to conquer her on 
 a day of weakness, in the midst of the great emotion occasioned 
 by some unexpected sale. So he remained on the watch for 
 some surprising occurrence which should deliver her up to him. 
 The moment he no longer kept her talking of business, she at 
 once resumed her quiet authoritative way, politely giving him 
 his instructions, the same as she did to the shopmen ; and she 
 managed the establishment with her beautiful woman's frigidity, 
 wearing a man's little necktie round her throat resembling an 
 ancient statue's, and a quiet, tight-fitting dress invariably black. 
 
 About this time, Monsieur He"douin, having fallen ill, went 
 to pass a season at Vichy to take the waters. Octave, to speak 
 frankly, was delighted. Though as cold as marble, Madame 
 Hedouin would become more tender-hearted during her enforced 
 widowhood. But he fruitlessly awaited a quiver, a languidness 
 of desire. Never had she been so active, her head so free, her 
 eye so clear. Up at break of day, she received the consign- 
 ments herself in the basement, her pen behind her ear, in the 
 busy manner of a clerk. She was everywhere, upstairs and 
 down, in the linen department and in the silk one, superintend- 
 ing the display and the sales ; and she moved peacefully about, 
 without even catching so much as a speck of dust, amidst those 
 piles of bales with which the too small warehouse was bursting. 
 When he met her in the middle of some narrow passage, 
 between a wall of woollens and a pile of napkins, Octave would 
 stand in an awkward way on one side, that she might be pressed 
 for a second against his breast ; but she passed by so occupied 
 that he scarcely felt her dress touch him. He was greatly 
 troubled, too, by Mademoiselle Gasparine's eyes, the harsh look 
 of which he always found fixed upon them at such moments. 
 
 At heart, though, the young man did not despair. At times 
 he thought he had reached the goal, and was already arranging 
 his mode of living for the near day when he would be the lover 
 of his employer's wife. He had kept up his connection with 
 Marie to help him to wait patiently ; only, though she was con- 
 venient and cost him nothing, she might perhaps one day 
 become irksome, with her faithfulness of a beaten cur. There- 
 fore, at the same time that he took her in his arms on the 
 nights when he felt dull, he would be thinking of a way of
 
 PIPING HOT! 171 
 
 breaking off with her. To do so abruptly seemed to him to be 
 worse than foolish. One holiday morning, when about to 
 rejoin his neighbour's wife, the neighbour himself having gone 
 out early, the idea had at length come to him of restoring Marie 
 to Jules, of sending them in a loving way into each other's 
 arms, so that he might withdraw with a clear conscience. It 
 was moreover a good action, the touching side of which relieved 
 him of all remorse. He waited a while, however, not wishing 
 to find himself without a female companion of some kind. 
 
 At the Campardons' another complication was occupying 
 Octave's mind. He felt that the moment was arriving when he 
 would have to take his meals elsewhere. For three weeks past, 
 Gasparine had been making herself quite at home there, with 
 an authority daily increasing. At first she had began by 
 coming every evening; then she had appeared at lunch; and, 
 in spite of her work at the shop, she was commencing to take 
 charge of everything, of Angele's education and of the house- 
 hold affairs. Rose was for ever repeating in Campardon's 
 presence : 
 
 " Ah ! if Gasparine only lived with us ! " 
 
 But each time the architect, blushing with conscientious 
 scruples, and tormented with shame, cried out : 
 
 " No, no ; it cannot be. Besides, where would you put her 
 to sleep 1 " 
 
 And he explained that they would have to give his study as 
 a bedroom to their cousin, whilst he would move his table and 
 plans into the drawing-room. It would certainly not incon- 
 venience him in the least ; he would perhaps decide to make 
 the alteration one day, for he had no need of a drawing-room, 
 and his study was becoming too cramped for all the work he 
 had in hand. Only, Gasparine might very well remain as she 
 was. What need was there to live all in a heap ? 
 
 " When one is comfortable," repeated he to Octave, " it is a 
 mistake to wish to be better." 
 
 About that time, he was obliged to go and spend two days at 
 Evreux. He was worried about the work in hand at the 
 bishop's palace. He had yielded to the bishop's desires without 
 a credit having been opened for the purpose, and the con- 
 struction of the range for the new kitchens and of the heat- 
 ing apparatus threatened to amount to a very large figure, 
 which it would be impossible to include in the cost of repairs. 
 Besides that, the pulpit, for which three thousand franca had 
 been granted, would come to ten thousand at the least He
 
 172 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 wished to talk the matter over with the bishop, so as to take 
 certain precautions. 
 
 Rose was only expecting him to return on the Sunday night. 
 He arrived in the mWdle of lunch, and his sudden entrance 
 caused quite a scare. Gasparine was seated at the table, 
 between Octave and Angele. They pretended to be all at their 
 ease ; but there reigned a certain air of mystery. Lisa had 
 closed the drawing-room door at a despairing gesture from her 
 mistress ; whilst the cousin kicked beneath the furniture some 
 pieces of paper that were lying about. When Campardon 
 talked of changing his things, they stopped him. 
 
 "Wait a while. Have a cup of coffee, as you lunched at 
 Evreux." 
 
 At length, as he noticed Rose's embarrassment, she went and 
 threw her arms round his neck. 
 
 "My dear, you must not scold me. If you had not returned 
 till this evening, you would have found everything straight." 
 
 She tremblingly opened the doors, and took him into the 
 drawing-room and the study. A mahogany bedstead, brought 
 that morning by a furniture dealer, occupied the place of the 
 drawing-table, which had been moved into the middle of the 
 adjoining room ; but as yet nothing had been put straight, port- 
 folios were knocking about amongst some of Gasparine's clothes, 
 the Virgin with the Bleeding Heart was lying against the wall, 
 kept in position by a new wash-stand. 
 
 "It was a surprise," murmured Madame Campardon, her 
 heart bursting, as slie hid her face in her husband's waistcoat. 
 
 He, deeply moved, looked about him. He said nothing, and 
 avoided encountering Octave's eyes. Then, Gasparine asked in 
 her sharp voice : 
 
 " Does it annoy you, cousin ? It is Rose who pestered me. 
 But if you think I am in the way, it is not too late for me to 
 leave." 
 
 " Oh ! cousin! " at length exclaimed the architect. "All that 
 Rose does is well done." 
 
 And the latter having burst out sobbing on his breast, he 
 added : 
 
 " Come, my duck, how foolish of you to cry ! I am very 
 pleased. You wish to have your cousin with you, well ! have 
 your cousin with you. Everything suits me. Now do not cry 
 any more ! Se'e ! I kiss you like I love you, so much ! so 
 much !" 
 
 He devoured her with caresses. Then, Rose, who melted
 
 PIPING HOT ! 173 
 
 into tears for a woi'd, but who smiled at once, in the midst of 
 her sobs, was consoled. She kissed him in her turn, on his 
 beard, saying to him gently : 
 
 "You were harsh. Kiss her also." 
 
 Campardon kissed Gasparine. They called Angele, who had 
 been looking on from the dining-room, her eyes bright and her 
 mouth wide open ; and she had to kiss her also. Octave had 
 moved away, having arrived at the conclusion that they were be- 
 coming far too loving in that family. He had noticed with sur- 
 prise Lisa's respectful attitude and smiling attentiveness towards 
 Gasparine. She was decidedly an intelligent girl, that hussy 
 with the blue eyelids ! 
 
 Meanwhile, the architect had taken off his coat, and whist- 
 ling and singing, as lively as a boy, he spent the afternoon in 
 arranging the cousin's room. The latter helped him, pushing 
 the furniture with him into its place, unpacking the bed linen, 
 and shaking the clothes ; whilst Rose sitting down through fear 
 of tiring herself, gave them advice, such as placing the wash- 
 stand here and the bed there, as being more convenient for 
 every one. Then, Octave understood that his pi'esence inter- 
 fered with the free expansion of their hearts ; he felt he was 
 one too many in such an united family, so he mentioned that 
 he was going to dine out that evening. Moreover, he had 
 made up his mind : on the morrow, he would thank Madame 
 Campardon for her kind hospitality, and invent some story for 
 no longer trespassing upon it. 
 
 Towards five o'clock, as he was regretting that he did not 
 know where to find Trublot, he had the idea to go and ask the 
 Pichons for some dinner, so as not to pass the evening alone. 
 But, on entering their apartments, he found himself in the 
 midst of a deplorable family scene. The Vuillaumes were there, 
 trembling with rage and indignation. 
 
 " It is disgraceful, sir ! " the mother was saying, standing up 
 with her arm thrust out towards her son-in-law, who was sitting 
 on a chair in a state of collapse. " You gave me your word of 
 honour." 
 
 " And you," added the father, causing his daughter to draw 
 back ti-emblingly as far as the sideboard, " do not try to de- 
 fend him, you are quite as guilty. Do you wish to die of 
 hunger ! " 
 
 Madame Vuillaume had put on her bonnet and shawl again. 
 
 "Good-bye!" uttered she in a solemn tone. " We will at least 
 not encourage your dissoluteness by our presence. As you no
 
 174 PIPING HOT! 
 
 longer pay the least attention to our wishes, we have nothing 
 to detain us here. Good-bye ! " 
 
 And, as through force of habit her son-in-law rose to accom- 
 pany them she added : 
 
 " Do not trouble yourself, we shall be able to find the omnibus 
 very well without you. Pass first, Monsieur Vuillaume. 
 Let them eat their dinner, and much good may it do them, for 
 they won't always have one ! " 
 
 Octave, thoroughly bewildered, drew on one side. When 
 they had gone, he looked at Jules who was still in a state of 
 collapse on his chair, and at Marie leaning against the side- 
 board and looking very pale. Neither of them said a word. 
 " What is the matter?" asked he. 
 
 But, without answering him, the young woman commenced 
 scolding her husband in a doleful voice. 
 
 " I told you how it would be. You should have waited, and 
 let them learn the thing by degrees. There was no hurry, it 
 does not show as yet." 
 
 " What is the matter ? " repeated Octave. 
 Then, without even turning her head, she said bluntly, in the 
 midst of her emotion ! 
 
 " I am in the family way." 
 
 " I have had enough of them!" cried Jules rising indignantly. 
 "I thought it right to tell them at once of this bother. I wonder 
 if they think it amuses me ! I am more taken in by it all than 
 they are. More especially, by Jove ! as it is through no fault of 
 mine. Is it not true, Marie, that we have no idea how it has 
 come about ? " 
 
 " That is so, indeed," affirmed the young woman. 
 It quite affected Octave ; aud he felt a violent desire to dc 
 something nice for the Pichons. Jules continued to grumble : 
 they would receive the child all the same, only it would have 
 done better to have remained where it was. On her side, Marie, 
 generally so gentle, became angry, and ended by agreeing with 
 her mother, who never forgave disobedience. And the couple 
 were coming to a quarrel, throwing the youngster from one to 
 the other, accusing each other of being the cause of it, when 
 Octave gaily interfered. 
 
 " It is no use quarrelling, now that it is there. Come, we 
 won't dine here ; it would be too sad. I will take you to a res- 
 taurant, if you are agreeable." 
 
 The yotmg woman blushed. Dining at a restaurant was her 
 delight. She spoke however of her little girl, who invariably
 
 PIPING HOT! 175 
 
 prevented her from having any pleasure. But it was decided 
 that, for this once, Lilitte should go too. And they spent a very 
 pleasant evening. Octave took them to the " Boeuf a la Mode," 
 where they had a private room, to be more at their ease, as ho 
 said. There, he overwhelmed them with food, with an earnest 
 prodigality, without thinking of the bill, happy at seeing them 
 eat. He even at dessert, when they had laid Lilitte down be- 
 tween two of the sofa cushions, called for champagne ; and they 
 sat there, their elbows on the table, their eyes dim, all three 
 full of heart, and feeling languid from the suffocating heat of 
 the room. At length, at eleven o'clock, they talked of going 
 home ; but they were very red, and the fresh air of the street 
 intoxicated them. Then, as the child, heavy with sleep, re- 
 fused to walk, Octave, to do things handsomely until the end, 
 insisted on hailing a cab, though the Rue de Choiseul was close 
 by. In the cab, he was scrupulous to the point of not pressing 
 Marie's knees. Only, upstairs, whilst Jules was tucking Lilitte 
 in, he imprinted a kiss on the young woman's forehead, the 
 farewell kiss of a father parting with his daughter to a son-in- 
 law. Then, seeing them very loving and looking at each other 
 in a drunken sort of way, he left them to themselves, wishing 
 them a good-night and many pleasant dreams as he closed the 
 door. 
 
 " Well ! " thought he, as he jumped all alone into bed, " it 
 has cost me fifty francs, but I owed them quite that. After all, 
 my only wish is that her husband may make her happy, poor 
 little woman ! " 
 
 And, with his heart full of emotion, he resolved, before fall- 
 ing asleep, to make his grand attempt on the following evening. 
 
 Every Monday, after dinner, Octave assisted Madame 
 Hedouin to examine the orders of the week. For this purpose 
 they both withdrew to the little closet at the back, a narrow 
 apartment which merely contained a safe, a desk, two chairs, 
 and a sofa. But it so happened that on the Monday in question 
 the Duveyriers were going to take Madame Hedotiin to the 
 Ope*ra-Comique. So, towards three o'clock, she sent for the 
 young man. In spite of the bright sunshine, they were obliged 
 to burn the gas, for the closet only received a pale light from 
 an inner courtyard. He bolted the door, and, as she looked at 
 him in surprise, he murmured : 
 
 " No one can come and disturb us." 
 
 She nodded her head approvingly, and they set to work. 
 The new summer goods were going splendidly, the business of
 
 176 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 the house continued increasing. That week especially the sale 
 of the little woollens seemed so promising that she heaved a 
 sigh. 
 
 " Ah ! if we only had enough room ! " 
 
 " But," said he, commencing the attack, " it depends upon 
 yourself. I have had an idea for some time past, which I wish 
 to lay before you." 
 
 It was the stroke of audacity he had been waiting for. His 
 idea was to purchase the adjoining house in the Rue Neuve- 
 Saint-Augustin, to give notice to an umbrella-dealer and to a 
 toy-merchant, and then to enlarge the warehouses, to which 
 they could add several other vast departments. And he 
 warmed up as he spoke, showing himself full of disdain for the 
 old way of doing business in the depths of damp, dark shops, 
 without any display, evoking a new commerce with a gesture, 
 piling up in palaces of crystal all the luxury pertaining to 
 woman, turning over millions in the light of day, and illuminat- 
 ing at night-time in a princely style. 
 
 " You will crush the other drapers of the Saint-Roch neigh- 
 bourhood," said he; "you will secure all the small customers. 
 For instance, Monsieur Vabre's silk warehouse does you a good 
 deal of harm at present ; well ! increase your shop front, have a 
 special department for silks, and you will force him into bank- 
 ruptcy before five years are past. Besides, there is still a 
 question of opening that new street, the Rue du Dix-Decembre, 
 which is to lead from the new Opera-House to the Bourse. My 
 friend Campardon alludes to it every now and then. It may 
 increase the business of the neighbourhood tenfold." 
 
 Madame Hedouin listened to him, her elbow on a ledger, her 
 beautiful, grave head buried in her hand. She was born at 
 " The Ladies' Paradise," which had been founded by her father 
 and her uncle ; she loved the house, she could see it expanding, 
 swallowing up the neighbouring houses, and displaying a royal 
 frontage; and this dream suited her active intelligence, her 
 upright will, her woman's delicate intuition of the new Paris. 
 
 " Uncle Deleuze would never give his consent," murmured 
 she. " Besides, my husband is too unwell." 
 
 Then, seeing her wavering, Octave assumed his most seductive 
 voice an actor's voice, soft and musical At the same time 
 he looked tenderly at her, with his eyes the colour of old gold, 
 which some women thought irresistible. But, though the gas- 
 jet flared close to the nape of her neck, she remained as cool 
 as ever ; she merely fell into a reverie, half stunned by the
 
 PIPING HOT ! 177 
 
 young man's inexhaustible flow of words. He had come to 
 studying the affair from the money point of view, already 
 making an estimate with the impassioned air of a romantic 
 page declaring a long pent up love. When she suddenly awoke 
 from her reflections, she found herself in his arms. He was 
 thinking that she was at length yielding. 
 
 " Dear me ! so this is what it all meant ! " said she in a sad 
 tone of voice, freeing herself from him as from some tiresome 
 child. 
 
 " Well ! yes, I love you," cried he. " Oh ! do nob repel me. 
 With you I will do great things " 
 
 And he went on thus to the end of the tirade, which had a 
 false ring about it. She did not interrupt him ; she was stand- 
 ing up and again scanning the pages of the ledger. Then, 
 when he had finished, she replied : 
 
 " I know all that I have already heard it before. But I 
 thought you were more sensible than the others, Monsieur 
 Octave. You grieve me, really you do, for I had counted upon 
 you. However, all young men are foolish. We need a great 
 deal of order in such a house as this, and yo\i begin by desiring 
 things which would disturb us from morning to night. I am 
 not a woman here, i have too much to occupy me. Come, you 
 who are so well organized, how is it you did not comprehend 
 that it could never be, because in the first place it is 
 stupid, in the second useless, and, moreover, luckily for me, I 
 do not care the least about it ! " 
 
 He would have preferred her to have been indignantly angry, 
 displaying grand sentiments. Her calm tone of voice, her 
 quiet reasoning of a practical woman, sure of herself, discon- 
 certed him. He felt himself becoming ridiculous. 
 
 "Have pity, madnme," stammered he, before losing all hope. 
 " See how I suffer." 
 
 " No, you do not suffer. Anyhow, you will get over it. 
 Hark ! there is some one knocking, you would do better to 
 open the door." 
 
 Then he had to draw the bolt. It was Mademoiselle Gas- 
 parine, who wished to know if any lace-trimmed chemises were 
 expected. The bolted door had surprised her. But she knew 
 Madame Hedouin too well ; and, when she saw her with her 
 cold air standing in front of Octave, who was full of uneasiness, 
 a slight mocking smile played about her lips as she looked at 
 him. It exasperated him, and in his own mind he accused her 
 of having been the cause of his ill-success. 
 
 M
 
 178 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 "Madame," declared he abruptly, when Gasparine had 
 withdrawn, "I leave your employment this evening." 
 
 This was a surprise for Madame Hedouin. She looked at 
 him. 
 
 " Why so 1 I do not discharge you. Oh ! it will not make 
 any difference ; I have no fear." 
 
 These words decided him. He would leave at once ; he 
 would not endure his martyrdom a minute longer. 
 
 " Very good, Monsieur Octave," resumed she as serenely 
 as ever. " I will settle with you directly. However, the firm 
 will regret you, for you were a good assistant." 
 
 Once out in the street, Octave perceived that he had behaved 
 like a fool. Four o'clock was striking, the gay spring sun 
 covered with a sheet of gold a whole corner of the Place 
 Gaillon. And, angry with himself, he wandered at hap-hazard 
 down the Rue Saint-Roch, discussing the way in which he 
 ought to have acted. To begin with, why had he not pinched 
 that Gasparine's hips 1 That perhaps was what she wanted; 
 but, unlike Campardon, he did not care for women dried up to 
 such a point ; besides, he might perhaps have made a mistake 
 there also, for she seemed to be one of those who are rigidly 
 virtuous with Sunday gentlemen, having a week-day friend to 
 count upon from the Monday to the Saturday. And how 
 absurdly green too of him to wish to become the mistress's 
 lover in spite of her ! Could he not have made his money in 
 the house without requiring at the same time both bread and 
 bed ] For a moment, scarcely knowing what to do, he was on 
 the point of returning to " The Ladies' Paradise," and admitting 
 himself to have been in the wrong. Then the thought of 
 Madame Hedouin, so calmly superb, awakened his suffering 
 vanity, and he went towards Saint-Roch. So much the worse ! 
 it was done now. He would go and see if Campardon happened 
 to be in the church, and take him to the cafe to have a glass 
 of Madeira It would help to divert his thoughts. He entered 
 by the vestibule into which the vestry door opened, a dark 
 dirty passage such as is to be met with in houses of ill-repute. 
 
 " You are perhaps looking for Monsieur Campardon ? " said 
 a voice close beside him, as he stood hesitating, scrutinizing the 
 nave with his glance. 
 
 It was the Abbe Mauduit, who had just recognised him. 
 The architect being away, he insisted on showing the works, 
 about which he was most enthusiastic, to the young man. He 
 took him behind the chancel, and' first of all showed him the
 
 PIPING HOT ! 179 
 
 chapel of the Virgin, with its white marble walls and its altar 
 surmounted by the group in the manger, the infant Jesus 
 between Joseph and the Virgin Mary, executed in an old- 
 fashioned style ; then, still farther back, he took him across to 
 the chapel of Perpetual Adoration, with its seven golden lamps, 
 its golden candelabra, its golden altar shining in the dim 
 reddish light of the aureate stained-glass windows. But 
 there, on the right and the left, wooden hoardings shut off the 
 farthest portion of the apsis ; and, in the midst of the chilly 
 silence, above the kneeling black shadows, muttering prayers, 
 resounded the strokes of picks, the voices of masons, all the 
 deafening uproar of a work-yard. 
 
 " Walk in," said the Abbe Mauduit, gathering up his cassock. 
 " I will explain everything to you." 
 
 On the other side of the planks there was a continual shower 
 of old plaster, a corner of the church open to the outside air, 
 white with the lime flying about, and damp with the spilt 
 water. On the left one could still see the Tenth Station, 
 Jesus being nailed to the cross, and on the right, the Twelfth, 
 the women around Jesus. But, in the middle, the group of the 
 Eleventh Station, Jesus on the cross, had been removed, and 
 laid against a wall ; and it was there that the men were at 
 work. 
 
 " Here we are," continued the priest. " I had the idea of 
 lighting the central group of the Calvary from above by means 
 of an opening in the cupola. You can fancy what an effect it 
 will have." 
 
 " Yes, yes," murmured Octave, whose thoughts were diverted 
 by this stroll amidst building materials. 
 
 The Abbe" Mauduit, speaking in a loud voice, had the air of 
 a stage-carpenter directing the placing of some gorgeous scenery. 
 
 "There will naturally be only the most rigid bareness, 
 nothing but stone walls, without a touch of paint or a fillet of 
 gold. One must fancy oneself in a crypt in some desolate 
 chamber underground. But the great effect will be the Christ 
 on the Cross, with the Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene at his 
 feet. I shall place the group on the top of a rock, detaching 
 the white statues by means of a grey background ; and the 
 light from the cupola, like some invisible ray, will light them 
 up with a brightness that will bring them forward and ani- 
 mate them with a supernatural life. You will see, you will 
 see 1 " 
 
 And he turned round to call out to a workman :
 
 180 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 " Move the Virgin on one side ; you will be breaking her leg 
 directly." 
 
 The workman called a comrade. Between them they got 
 hold of the Virgin round the small of her back and carried her 
 to a place of safety, like some tall white girl who had fallen 
 down under a nervous attack. 
 
 " Be careful ! " repeated the priest, following them through 
 the rubbish, "her dress is already cracked. Wait a while !" 
 
 He gave them a hand, seizing Mary round the waist, and 
 then, all covered with plaster, withdrew from the embrace. 
 
 "Then," resumed he, returning to Octave, "just imagine 
 that the two bays of the nave there before us are open, and go 
 and stand in the chapel of the Virgin. Over the altar, and 
 through the chapel of Perpetual Adoration, you will behold the 
 Calvary right at the back. Just fancy the effect : these three 
 enormous figures, this bare and simple drama in this tabernacle 
 recess, beyond the dim mysterious light of the stained-glass 
 windows, the lamps and the gold candelabra. Eh ? I think 
 it will be irresistible ! " 
 
 He was waxing eloquent, and, proud of his idea, he laughed 
 joyfully. 
 
 "The most sceptical will be moved," observed Octave to 
 please him. 
 
 " That is what I think ! " cried he. " I am impatient to see 
 everything in place." 
 
 On returning to the nave he forgot himself, retaining his 
 loud tone of voice and his mason's bearing, and he spoke of 
 Campardon in the highest terms a fellow who, in the middle 
 ages, said he, would have had a very remarkable religious 
 feeling. He let Octave out by the little door at the back, de- 
 taining him a minute or two longer in the courtyard of the 
 vicarage, whence one can see the apsis of the church buried 
 amidst the neighbouring buildings. It was there that he 
 lived, on the second floor of a tall house with a mildewed 
 frontage, occupied entirely by the clergy of Saint-Koch. A 
 discreet priestly odour, the whispering hush of the confessional, 
 issued from the vestibule surmounted by a statue of the Virgin, 
 and from the tall windows veiled by thick curtains. 
 
 " I am going to see Monsieur Campardon this evening," at 
 length said the Abbe" Mauduit " Ask him to wait in for me. 
 I wisk to speak to him about an improvement without being 
 disturbed." 
 
 And he bowed with his worldlv air. Octave was calmed
 
 PIPING HOT ! 181 
 
 now. Saint-Roch, with its cool vaults, had unbraced his 
 nerves. He looked curiously at this entrance to a church 
 through a private house, at the doorkeeper's room from whence 
 at night-time the door was often opened for the cause of the 
 faith, at all that corner of a convent lost amidst the black con- 
 glomeration of the neighbourhood. Out in the street, he again 
 raised his eyes ; the house displayed its bare frontage, with its 
 barred and curtainless windows ; but boxes of flowers were 
 fixed by iron supports to the windows of the fourth floor ; and, 
 down below, in the thick walls, were narrow shops, which 
 helped to fill the coffers of the clergy a cobbler's, a clock- 
 maker's, an embroiderer's, and even a wine-shop, where the 
 mutes congregated whenever there was a funeral. Octave, 
 who from his rebuff was in a mood to renounce the world, 
 regretted the quiet lives which the priests' servants led up 
 there in those rooms enlivened with verbenas and sweet peas. 
 
 That evening, at half-past six, as he entered the Campardons' 
 apartments without ringing, he came suddenly upon the archi- 
 tect and Gasparine kissing each other in the anteroom. The 
 latter, who had just come from the warehouse, had not even 
 given herself time to close the door. Both stood stock-still. 
 
 " My wife is combing her hair," stammered the architect for 
 the sake of saying something. " Go in and see her." 
 
 Octave, feeling as embarrassed as themselves, hastened to 
 knock at the door of Rose's room, where he usually entered like 
 a relation. He really could no longer continue to board there, 
 now that he caught them behind the doors. 
 
 " Come in ! " cried Rose's voice. " So it is you, Octave. 
 Oh ! there is no harm." 
 
 She had not, however, donned her dressing-gown, and her 
 arms and shoulders, as white and delicate as milk, were bare. 
 Sitting attentively before the looking-glass, she was rolling her 
 golden hair in little curls. Every day she thus passed hours 
 together in the most minute details of her toilet ; her sole care 
 was a continuous study of the pores of her skin, a perpetual 
 adornment of her person, and then to go and stretch herself 
 out in an easy-chair in all the beauty and luxury of a sexless 
 idol. 
 
 " So you are making yourself beautiful again to-night," said 
 Octave, smiling. 
 
 "Yes, for it is the only amusement I have," replied she. 
 " It occupies me. You know I have never been a good house- 
 wife ; and, now that Gasparine will be here Eh T don't you
 
 182 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 think that curl suits me ? It consoles me a little when 1 am 
 well dressed and I feel that I look pretty." 
 
 As the dinner was not ready, he told her of his having left 
 "The Ladies' Paradise." He invented a story about some 
 other situation he had long been on the look-out for ; and thus 
 reserved to himself a pretext for explaining his intention of 
 taking his meals elsewhere. She was surprised that he could 
 give up a berth which held out great promises for the future. 
 But she was busy at her glass, and did not catch all he said. 
 
 " Look at this red place behind my ear. Is it a pimple V 
 
 He had to examine the nape of her neck, which she held 
 towards him with her grand tranquillity of a sacred woman. 
 
 " It is nothing," said he. " You must have dried yourself 
 too roughly." 
 
 And, when he had assisted her to put on her dressing-gown 
 of blue satin embroidered with silver, they passed into the 
 dining-room. As early as the soup, Octave's departure from 
 the H^douins' was discussed. Campardon did not repress his 
 surprise, whilst Gasparine smiled faintly ; they were quite at 
 their ease together. The young man even ended by being 
 touched by the tender attentions they showered upon Rose. 
 Campardon poured out her wine, whilst Gasparine selected the 
 best pieces from the dish for her. Was she pleased with the 
 bread ? if not they would change the baker ; would she like a 
 pillow for her back ? And Rose, full of gratitude, begged them 
 not to disturb themselves. She ate a good deal, throning her- 
 self between them, with her beautiful blonde's delicate neck, 
 arrayed in her queenly dressing-gown, having on her right her 
 puffing husband, who was becoming thin, and on her left her dark 
 dried-up cousin, whose shoulders were confined in a gloomy 
 black dress, and whose flesh was melting away in the warmth 
 of her desires. 
 
 At dessert Gasparine sharply rated Lisa, who had answered 
 her mistress rudely respecting a piece of cheese that was miss- 
 ing. The maid became very humble. Gasparine had already 
 taken the household arrangements in hand, and had mastered 
 the servants; with a word, she could make Victoire herself 
 quake amongst her saucepans. So that Rose looked at her 
 gratefully with moist eyes ; she was respected, now that her 
 cousin was there, and her longing was to get her also to 
 leave "The Ladies' Paradise," and take charge of Angele's 
 education. 
 
 " Come," murmured she caressingly, " there is quite enough
 
 PIPING HOT! 183 
 
 to occupy you here. Angele, implore your couain, tell her how 
 pleased you will be." 
 
 The young girl implored her cousin, whilst Lisa nodded her 
 head approvingly. But Campardou and Gasparine remained 
 grave ; no, no, they must wait, one should not take a leap in 
 life without having something to hold on to. 
 
 The evenings in the drawing-room were now delightful. The 
 architect had altogether given up going out. That evening he 
 had arranged to hang some engravings, which had come back 
 from the framer, in Gasparine's room : Mignon supplicating 
 Heaven, a view of the fountain of Vaucluse, and several others. 
 And he was full of a stout man's jollity, with his yellow beard 
 flying about, his cheeks red through having eaten too much, 
 and feeling happy and contented in all his appetites. He called 
 to the cousin to light him, and they heard him mount a chair 
 and commence knocking in the nails. Then, Octave, finuiug 
 himself alone with Rose, resumed his story, and explained that 
 at the end of the month he would be obliged to take his meals 
 away from them. She seemed surprised, but her thoughts were 
 elsewhere ; she returned at once to her husband and her cousin 
 whom she heard laughing. 
 
 " Ah ! how it amuses them to hang those pictures ! What 
 would you have ! Achille no longer stays out; for a fortnight 
 pas the has not left me of an evening. No, no more going to the 
 cafe, no more business meetings, no more appointments ; and 
 you remember how anxious I used to be, when he was out after 
 midnight ! Ah ! it is a great ease to my mind now ! I at least 
 have him by me." 
 
 " No doubt, no doubt," murmured Octave. 
 
 And she continued speaking of the economy of the new arrange- 
 ment. Everything went on better in the house, they laughed 
 from morning to night. 
 
 "When I see Achille pleased," resumed she, "I am satisfied." 
 
 Then, returning to the young man's affairs, she added : 
 
 "So you are really going to leave us? You should stay 
 though as we are all going to be so happy." 
 
 He recommenced his explanations. She comprehended, and 
 lowered her eyes : the young fellow would indeed interfere with 
 their family effusions, and she herself felt a certain relief at his 
 departure, no longer requiring him moreover to keep her com- 
 pany of an evening. He had to promise to come and see her 
 very often. 
 
 " There you are, Mignon supplicating Heaven ! " cried Cam-
 
 184 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 pardon joyously. " Wait a moment, cousin ; I will help you 
 down." 
 
 They heard him take her in his arms and place her some- 
 where. There was a short silence, and then a faint 
 laugh. But the architect was already entering the drawing- 
 room ; and he held his hot cheek to his wife. 
 
 " It is done, my duck. Kiss your old pet for working so well." 
 
 Gasparine came with some embroidery and seated herself near 
 the lamp. Campardon commenced cutting out a gilt cross of 
 the Legion of Honour which he had found on some label ; and 
 he turned very red, when Rose persisted in pinning this paper 
 cross on to his breast : some one had promised him the decora- 
 tion, but they all made a great mystery about it. On the other 
 side of the lamp, Angele, who was learning some scripture his- 
 tory, raised her head now and then and darted a glance here 
 and there, with her enigmatical air of a well-brought up young 
 lady, taught to say nothing, and whose real thoughts are hidden. 
 It was a peaceful evening, a very homely patriarchal corner. 
 
 But the architect suddenly became virtuously indignant. He 
 had just noticed that instead of studying her scripture history, 
 the child was reading the " Gazette de France," lying on the 
 table. 
 
 "Angele," said he severely, "what are you doing? This 
 morning, I crossed out that article with a red pencil You 
 know very well that you are not to read what is crossed out." 
 
 " I was reading beside it, papa," replied the young girl. 
 
 All the same, he took the paper away from her, complaining 
 in low tones to Octave of the demoralization of the press. 
 That number contained the report of another abominable crime. 
 If families could no longer admit the "Gazette de France," then 
 what paper could they take in ? And he was raising his eyes 
 to heaven, when Lisa announced the Abb6 Mauduit. 
 
 " Ah ! yes," observed Octave, " he asked me to tell you he 
 was coming." 
 
 The priest entered smiling. As the architect had forgotten 
 to take off his paper cross, he stammered in the presence of that 
 smile. The Abbe" Mauduit happened to be the person whose 
 name was kept a secret and who had the matter in hand. 
 
 "The ladies did it," murmured Campardon, preparing to take 
 the cross off. " They are so fond of a joke. 
 
 " No, no, keep it," exclaimed the priest very amiably. " It 
 is well where it is, and we will replace it by a more substan- 
 tial one."
 
 PIPING HOT ! 185 
 
 He at once asked after Rose's health, and greatly approved ' 
 Gasparine's coming to live with one of her relations. Single 
 young ladies ran so many risks in Paris ! He said these things 
 with all his good priest's unction, though fully aware of the 
 real state of affairs. Then, he talked of the works, suggesting 
 a rather happy alteration. And he seemed to have come to 
 bless the good union of the family and thus save a delicate 
 situation, which might otherwise be talked about in the neigh- 
 bourhood. The architect of the Calvary should be sure of all 
 honest persons' respect. 
 
 When the Abbe" Mauduit appeared, Octave had wished the 
 Campardons good evening. As he crossed the anteroom, he 
 heard Angele's voice in the now dark dining-room she having 
 also made her escape. 
 
 " Was it about the butter that she was kicking up such a 
 row ? " asked she. 
 
 " Of course," answered another voice, which was Lisa's. 
 "She's as spiteful as can be. You saw how she went on at me 
 at dinner-time. But I don't care a fig ! One must pretend to 
 obey, with a person of that sort, but that doesn't prevent our 
 amusing ourselves all the same ! " 
 
 Then, Angele must have thrown her arms round Lisa's neck, 
 for her voice was drowned in the servant's bosom. 
 
 "Yes, yes. And, afterwards, so much the worse ! it's you I 
 love ! " 
 
 Octave was going up to bed, when a desire for fresh air 
 brought him down again. It was not more than ten o'clock, 
 he would stroll as far as the Palais-Royal Now, he was single 
 again : both Valerie and Madame He"douin had declined to have 
 anything to do with his heart, and he had been too hasty in re- 
 storing Marie to Jules, the only woman he had succeeded in 
 conquering, and without having done anything for it. He tried 
 to laugh, but he felt sad ; he bitterly recalled his successes at 
 Marseilles and beheld a bad omen, a regular blow at his for- 
 tunes, in the rout that his seductions had experienced. A chill 
 seemed to come over him when he had no skirts about him. 
 Even Madame Campardon, who allowed him to go without shed- 
 ding a tear ! It was a terrible revenge to take. Was Paris go- 
 ing to refuse herself? 
 
 As he was placing his foot on the pavement, a woman's voice 
 called to him ; and he recognised Berthe at the door of the 
 silk warehouse, the shutters of which were being put up by the 
 porter.
 
 186 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 " Is it true, Monsieur Mouret ? " asked she, " have you really 
 left < The Ladies' Paradise ? ' " 
 
 He was surprised that it was already known in the neigh- 
 bourhood. The young woman had called her husband. As he 
 intended speaking to Monsieur Mouret on the morrow, he might 
 just as well do so then. And Auguste abruptly offered Octave 
 in a sour way a berth in his employ. The young man, taken 
 unawares, hesitated and was on the point of refusing, thinking 
 of the small importance of the house. But he caught sight of 
 Berthe's pretty face, as she smiled at him with her air of wel- 
 come, with the gay glance he had already twice encountered, 
 on the day of his arrival and the day of the wedding. 
 
 " Well 1 yes," said he resolutely.
 
 187 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THEN, Octave found himself brought into closer contact with 
 the Duveyriers. Often, when Madame Duveyrier returned from 
 a walk, she would come through her brother's shop, and stop to 
 talk a minute with Berthe ; and, the first time that she saw the 
 young man behind one of the counters, she amiably reproached 
 him for not keeping his word, reminding him of his long stand- 
 ing promise to come up and see her one evening, and try his 
 voice at the piano. She wished to give a second performance 
 of the " Benediction of the Daggers," at one of her first Satur- 
 days at home of the coming winter, but with two extra tenors, 
 something very complete. 
 
 " If it does not interfere with your arrangements," said Berthe 
 one day to Octave, " you might go up to my sister-in-law's after 
 dinner. She is expecting you." 
 
 She maintained towards him the attitude of a mistress simply 
 polite. 
 
 "The fact is," he observed, "I intended arranging these 
 shelves this evening." 
 
 " Do not trouble about them," resumed she, " there are 
 plenty of people here to do that. I give you your evening." 
 
 Towards nine o'clock, Octave found Madame Duveyrier 
 awaiting him in her grand white and gold drawing-room. Every- 
 thing was ready, the piano open, the candles lit. A lamp 
 placed on a small round table beside the instrument only im- 
 perfectly lighted the room, one half of which remained in 
 shadow. Seeing the young woman alone, he thought it proper 
 to ask after Monsieur Duveyrier. She replied that he was very 
 well ; his colleagues had selected him to report on a very grave 
 affair, raid he had just gone out to obtain certain information 
 respecting it. 
 
 " You know, the affair of the Rue de Provence," said she 
 simply. 
 
 " Ah ! he has that in hand ! " exclaimed Octave. 
 
 It was a scandal which was the talk of all Paris, quite a
 
 188 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 clandestine prostitution, young girls of fourteen procured for 
 high personages. Clotilde added : 
 
 " Yes, it gives him a great deal of work. For a fortnight 
 past all his evenings have been taken up with it." 
 
 He looked at her, knowing from Trublot that uncle Bachelard 
 had invited Duveyrier to dinner that day, and that afterwards 
 they were to finish the evening at Clarisse's. But she was verv 
 serious, she still talked gravely of her husband, relating with 
 her highly respectable air some most extraordinary stories, in 
 which she explained how it was he was so seldom seen beneath 
 the conjugalroof. 
 
 "No doubt ! for he too has the cure of souls," murmured he, 
 embarrassed by her clear glance. 
 
 She seemed to him very beautiful, all alone in that room. 
 Her red hair gave a certain paleness to her rather long face, 
 which had the obstinate immobility of a woman absorbed in her 
 duty ; and, dressed in grey silk, her waist and shoulders tightly 
 encompassed in a bodice plentifully supplied with whalebones, 
 she treated him with an amiability devoid of all warmth, as 
 though separated from him by a triple coat of mail. 
 
 " Well ! sir, shall we begin ? " resumed she. " You will 
 excuse my importunity, will you not 1 And open your lungs, 
 display all your powers, as Monsieur Duveyrier is not here. 
 You perhaps heard him boast that he did not like music." 
 
 She put such contempt into the words, that he thought it 
 right to risk a faint laugh. Moreover, it was the sole bitter 
 feeling which at times escaped her before other people with re- 
 spect to her husband, when exasperated by his jokes on her 
 piano, she who was strong enough to hide the hatred and the 
 physical repulsion with which he inspired her. 
 
 "How can one help liking music?" remarked Octave with an air 
 of ecstasy, so as to make himself agreeable. 
 
 Then, she seated herself on the music-stool. A collection of 
 old tunes was open on the piano. She had already selected an air 
 out of " Zemire and Azor," by Gretry. As the young man could 
 only just manage to read his notes, she made him go through it 
 first in a low voice. Then, she played the prelude, and he sang 
 the first verse. 
 
 " Perfect ! " cried she with delight, " a tenor, there is not the 
 least doubt of it, a tenor ! Pray continue, sir." 
 
 Octave, feeling highly flattered, gave out the two other verses. 
 She was beaming. For three years past she had been seeking 
 for one ! And she told him of all her vexations, Monsieur Tru-
 
 PIPING HOT ! 189 
 
 blot for instance ; for, it was a fact, the causes of which were 
 worth studying, that there were no longer any tenors among 
 the young men of society : no doubt it was owing to tobacco. 
 
 " Be careful, now ! " resumed she, " we must put some ex- 
 pression into it. Begin it boldly." 
 
 Her cold face assumed a languid expression, her eyes turned 
 towards him with an expiring air. Thinking that she was 
 warming, he became more animated also, and considered her 
 charming. Not a sound came from the adjoining rooms, the 
 vague shadow of the grand apartment seemed to envelop them 
 in a drowsy voluptuousness; and, bending behind her, touching 
 her chignon with his chest, the better to see the music, he sighed 
 out in a quaver the two lines : 
 
 " And I am myself 
 More trembling than you." 
 
 But, the melodious phrase ended, she let her impassioned 
 expression fall like a mask. Her frigidity was beneath it. 
 He drew back, feeling anxious, and not caring for another ad- 
 venture like that with Madame Hedouin. 
 
 " You will get along very well," said she. " Only, accentuate 
 the time more. See, like this." 
 
 And she herself sang, repeating quite twenty times : " More 
 trembling than you," bringing out the notes with the rigour of 
 a sinless woman, whose passion for music was not more than 
 skin deep in her mechanism. Her voice rose little by little, 
 filling the room with shrill cries, when they both suddenly 
 heard some one exclaiming loudly behind their backs : 
 
 " Madame ! madame ! " 
 
 She started, and, recognising her maid Clemence, exclaimed : 
 
 "Eh? what?" 
 
 " Madame, your father has fallen with his face in his papers, 
 and he doesn't move. We are so frightened." 
 
 Then, without exactly understanding, and greatly surprised, 
 she quitted the piano and followed Clemence. Octave, who 
 was uncertain whether to accompany her, remained walking 
 about the drawing-room. However, after a few minutes of 
 hesitation and embarrassment, as he heard people rushing 
 about and calling out distractedly, he made up his mind, and, 
 crossing a room that was in darkness, he found himself in 
 Monsieur Vabre's bedchamber. All the servants had hastened 
 to the spot Julie with her kitchen apron on, Clemence and 
 Hippolyte, their minds still full of a game at dominos they had 
 just left; and, standing up with bewildered looks, they sur-
 
 190 PIPING HOT! 
 
 rounded the old man, whilst Clotilde, leaning close to his ear, 
 called to him, and implored him to say a word, just one word. 
 But still he did not move, his nose remained buried in his tickets. 
 His forehead had struck the ink-stand. A splash of ink covered 
 his left eye, and trickled slowly down to his lips. 
 
 " He is in a fit," said Octave. " He must not be left there. 
 We must get him on to his bed." 
 
 But Madame Duveyrier was losing her head. Emotion 
 was little by little seizing upon her cold nature. She kept re- 
 peating : 
 
 " Do you think so, do you think so ? good heavens ! my 
 poor father !" 
 
 Hippolyte, a prey to an uneasy feeling, to a visible repugnance 
 to touch the old man, who might go off in his arms, did not 
 hurry himself. Octave had to call to him to help. Between 
 them they laid him on the bed. 
 
 " Bring some warm water ! " resumed the young man, ad- 
 dressing Julie. " Wipe his face." 
 
 Now Clotilde became angry with her husband. Ought he to 
 have been away? What would become of her if anything 
 happened ? It was just as though it were done on purpose ; he 
 was never at home when he was wanted ; and, gracious good- 
 ness ! that was not often ! Octave interrupted her to advise 
 her to send for Doctor Juillerat No one had thought of it. 
 Hippolyte started off at once, delighted at the chance of getting 
 away. 
 
 " To leave me alone like this ! " continued Clotilde. " I 
 don't know, but there must be all sorts of affairs to settle. 
 my poor father ! " 
 
 " Would you like me to inform the other members of the 
 family ? " asked Octave. " I can fetch your brothers. It would 
 be prudent" 
 
 She did not answer. Two big tears swelled her eyes, whilst 
 Julie and Clemence tried to undress the old man. Then she 
 stopped Octave ; her brother Auguste was out, having an ap- 
 pointment that evening ; and as for Theophile, he would do 
 well not to come, for the mere sight of him would be their 
 father's death-blow. Then she related that the latter had 
 called on his children for some overdue rent; but they had 
 received him most brutally, especially Valerie, who refused to 
 pay, and demanded the sum he promised at the time of their 
 marriage ; and that scene was no doubt the cause of the fit, 
 for he had come back in a most pitiable state.
 
 
 OLD MONSIEUR VABRE DISCOVERED IN A FIT 
 
 p. 190.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 191 
 
 " Madame," observed C16menc3, " one side of him is already 
 quite cold." 
 
 This increased Madame Duveyrier's anger. She no longer 
 spoke, for fear of saying too much before the servants. Her 
 husband did not apparently care a button for their interests ! 
 Had she only been acquainted with the law ! And she could 
 not remain still, she kept walking up and down before the 
 bed. Octave, whose attention was diverted by the sight of the 
 tickets, looked at the formidable apparatus which covered the 
 table; it was a big oak box, filled with a series of cardboard tickets, 
 scrupulously sorted, the stupid work of a lifetime. Just as he 
 was reading on one of these tickets : " ' Isidore Charbotel ; ' 
 Exhibition of 1857, 'Atalanta;' Exhibition of 1859, 'The 
 Lion of Androcles;' Exhibition of 1861, 'Portrait of Monsieur 
 
 P ,' " Clotilde went and stood before him and said. 
 
 resolutely, in a low voice : 
 
 " Go and fetch him." 
 
 And, as he evinced his surprise, she seemed, with a shrug of 
 her shoulders, to cast off the story about the report of the 
 affair of the Rue de Provence, one of those eternal pretexts , 
 which she invented for her acquaintances. She let out every- 
 thing in her emotion. 
 
 " You know, Rue de la Cerisaie. All our friends know it." 
 
 He wished to protest. 
 
 " I assure you, madame " 
 
 " Do not stand up for him ! " resumed she. " I am only too 
 pleased ; he can stay there. Ah ! good heavens ! if it were not 
 for my poor father ! " 
 
 Octave bowed. Julie was wiping Monsieur Vabre's eye with 
 the corner of a towel ; but the ink had dried, and the smudge 
 remained in the skin, which was marked with livid streaks. 
 Madame Duveyrier told her not to rub so hard ; then she re- 
 turned to the young man, who was already at the door. 
 
 " Not a word to any one," murmured she. " It is needless 
 to upset the house. Take a cab, call there, and bring him 
 back in spite of everything." 
 
 When he had gone, she sank on to a chair beside the 
 patient's pillow. He had not recovered consciousness ; his 
 breathing alone, a deep and painful breathing, troubled the 
 mournful silence of the chamber. Then, the doctor not arriv- 
 ing, finding herself alone with the two servants, who stood by 
 with frightened looks, she burst out into a terrible fit of sobbing, 
 in a paroxysm of deep grief.
 
 192 PIPING HOT! 
 
 It was at the Cafe Anglais that uncle Baehelard had invited 
 Duveyrier to dine, without any one knowing why, perhaps for 
 the pleasure of treating a counsellor, and of showing him that 
 tradespeople knew how to spend their money. He had also 
 invited Trublot and Gueulin, four men and no women, for 
 women do not know how to eat ; they interfere with the truffles, 
 and spoil digestion. The uncle, too, was known all along the 
 Boulevards for his gorgeous dinners, whenever a customer 
 called on him from the most remote parts of India or Brazil, 
 dinners at three hundred francs a head, by which he nobly 
 upheld the honour of French commission agents. He was 
 seized with a mania for spending money ; he demanded the 
 most extravagant articles, gastronomic curiosities, often uneat- 
 able, sterlets from the Volga, eels from the Tiber, grouse from 
 Scotland, bustards from Sweden, bears' feet from the Black 
 Forest, bison humps from America, turnips from Teltow, 
 gourds from Greece ; and he also ordered things most out 
 of season, such as peaches in December and partridges in July, 
 besides an abundance of flowers, of silver plate, and of crystal 
 glass, and an attendance which quite upset the restaurant, 
 without mentioning the wines, for which he had the cellar 
 turned topsy-turvy, requiring unknown vintages, considering 
 nothing old enough or rare enough, dreaming of unique bottles 
 at two louis the glass. 
 
 That evening, as it was summer-time a season when every- 
 thing is in abundance he had not found it so easy to run up 
 the bill. The fare, decided upon the day before, was, however, 
 remarkable asparagus cream soup, then some little timbales & 
 la Pompadour ; two releves, a trout in the Genevese style and a 
 fillet of beef ct la Chateaubriand; two entrees, ortolans a la 
 Lucullus and a crayfish salad ; and, finally, a haunch of venison 
 in the way of roast, and artichoke hearts a la jardiniere for 
 vegetable, followed by a chocolate souffle and some fruit. It 
 was simple and grand, and swelled, moreover, by a truly royal 
 selection of wines old Madeira with the soup, Chateau-Filhot 
 '58 with the side-dishes, Johannisberger and Pichon-Lougueville 
 with the releves, Chateau-Lafite '48 with the entries, Sparkling 
 Moselle with the roast, and iced Rcederer with the dessert. 
 He deeply regretted a bottle of Johaunisberger a hundred and 
 five years old, which had been sold to a Turk for ten louis three 
 days before. 
 
 " Drink away, drink away, sir," he kept saying to 
 Duveyrier ; "when wines are good, they never intoxicate.
 
 UNCLE BACBELAKD'S DINNER AT THE CAFE ANGLAIS. 
 
 p. 192
 
 PIPING HOT! 193 
 
 It's the same with food ; it never does one harm so long as it's 
 delicate." 
 
 He, however, was careful. On this occasion he was posing 
 for the gentleman, shaved and brushed up, and with a rose in 
 his buttonhole, restraining himself from breaking the crockery, 
 which he was in the habit of doing. Trublot and Gueulin eat 
 of everything. The uncle's theory seemed the right one, for 
 Duveyrier, who suffered a great deal from his stomach, had 
 drank considerably, and had returned to the crayfish salad, 
 without feeling the least indisposed, the red blotches on his 
 face merely assuming a purple hue. 
 
 At nine o'clock, the dinner was still in full swing. The 
 breeze from an open window fanned the flames of the candles 
 as they lit up the silver plate and the glass ; and, in the midst 
 of the confusion of the table, four superb baskets of flowers were 
 fading. Besides the two butlers, each guest had a waiter 
 behind his chair, specially charged with supplying him with 
 bread and wine, and changing his plates. It was close in spite 
 of the breeze from the Boulevard. A feeling of repletion was 
 taking possession of all, in the spicy fumes of the dishes and 
 the vanilla-like bouquet of the grand wines. 
 
 Then, when the coffee had been served, with some liqueurs 
 and' cigars, and all the attendants had withdrawn, uncle 
 Bachelard suddenly leant back in his chair and heaved a sigh 
 of satisfaction. 
 
 " Ah ! " declared he, " one is comfortable." 
 
 Trublot and Gueulin, also leaning back in their chairs, 
 opened their arms. 
 
 " Completely ! " said, the one. 
 
 " Up to the eyes ! " added the other. 
 
 Duveyrier, who was puffing, nodded his head and murmured: 
 
 " Oh ! the crayfish ! " 
 
 All four looked at each other and chuckled. Their skins 
 were well-nigh bursting, and they were digesting in the slow 
 and selfish way of four worthy citizens who had just had a tuck- 
 out away from the worries of their families. It had cost a 
 great deal ; no one had partaken of it with them ; there was no 
 girl there to take advantage of their emotion; and they un- 
 buttoned their waistcoats, and laid their stomachs as it were on 
 the table. With eyes half-closed, they even avoided speaking 
 at first, each one absorbed in his solitary pleasure. Then, free 
 and easy, and whilst congratulating themselves that there were 
 no women present, they placed their elbows on the table, and, 
 
 N
 
 194 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 with their excited faces close together, they did nothing but 
 talk incessantly of them. 
 
 " As for myself, I am disabused," declared uncle Bachelard. 
 " It is after all far preferable to be virtuous." 
 
 Duveyrier nodded his head approvingly. 
 
 " So I have said good-bye to pleasure. Ah ! I have wallowed 
 in it, .1 own. Rue Godot-de-Mauroy, for instance, I know 
 every one of them. There are blondes and brunettes, and red- 
 haired ones, and who sometimes, though not often, are very 
 well shaped. Then, there are the dirty holes, you know, fur- 
 nished lodgings at Montmartre, dark alleys in my neighbour- 
 hood, where one meets some most astonishing creatures, very 
 ugly, and most extraordinarily made." 
 
 " Oh ! prostitutes ! " interrupted Trublot in his supercilious 
 way, " what rot ! I keep clear of all such goods ! " 
 
 This smutty conversation tickled Duveyrier's fancy. He was 
 sipping kummel, whilst sharp twinges of sensuality kept shoot- 
 ing across his stiff magisterial face. 
 
 " For my part," said he, " I cannot bear vice. It shocks 
 me. Now, to be able to love a woman, one must esteem her, 
 is it not so ? It would be impossible for me to have anything 
 to do with one of those unfortunates, unless, of course, she 
 showed some repentance, and she had been extricated from her 
 life of shame for the purpose of making a respectable woman of 
 her. Love could not have a nobler mission. In short, a 
 virtuous mistress, you understand me ? Then, I do not deny I 
 might succumb." 
 
 " Virtuous mistresses ! but I have had no end of them ! " 
 cried Bachelard. " They are a far greater nuisance than the 
 others ; and such sluts too ! Wenches who, behind your back, 
 lead a life fit to give you every possible ailment ! Take, for 
 instance, my last, a very respectable-looking little lady, whom 
 I met at a church dour. I set her up in business at Les Ternes 
 as a milliner, just to give her a position. She never had a 
 single customer though. Well, sir, believe me or not as you 
 like, but she had the whole street to sleep with her." 
 
 Gueulin was chuckling, whilst his carroty hair bristled more 
 than usual, and his forehead was bathed in perspiration from 
 the heat of the candles. He murmured, as he sucked his 
 cigar: 
 
 " And the other, the tall one at Passy, who had a sweet-stuff 
 shop. And the other, she who had a room over there, with her 
 outfits for orphan children. And the other, the captain's
 
 PIPING HOT ! 195 
 
 widow, you surely remember her ! she used to show the mark 
 of a sword thrust on her body. All, uncle, all of them played 
 the fool with you ! Now, I may tell you, may I not ? Well ! 
 I had to defend myself one night against the one with the sword 
 thrust She wanted to, but I was not such a fool ! One never 
 knows where such women may lead one to ! " 
 
 Bachelard seemed annoyed. He recovered his good humour, 
 however, and, blinking his heavy eyelids, said : 
 
 " My little fellow, you can have them all ; I have something 
 far better." 
 
 And he refused to explain himself further, delighted at 
 having awakened the others' curiosity. Yet he was burning to 
 be indiscreet, to let them imagine what a treasure he possessed. 
 
 " A young girl," said he at length, " and a genuine one, on 
 my word of honour." 
 
 " Impossible 1 " cried Trublot. " Such things no longer 
 exist." 
 
 " Of good family ? " asked Duveyrier. 
 
 " Of most excellent family," affirmed the uncle. " Imagine 
 something stupidly chaste. A mere chance. She submitted 
 quite innocently. She has no idea of anything even now." 
 
 Gueulin listened to him in surprise ; then, making a sceptical 
 gesture, he murmured : 
 
 " Ah ! yes, I know." 
 
 "What 1 you know ! " said Bachelard, angrily. "You know 
 nothing at all, my little fellow ; no one knows anything. She 
 is for yours truly. She is neither to be seen nor touched. 
 Hands off!" 
 
 And, turning to Duveyrier, he added : 
 
 " You will understand, sir, you who have feeling. It affects 
 me so much going there, that when I come away I feel quite 
 young again. In short, it is a cosy little nook for me, where I 
 can recruit myself after all those hussies. And, if you only 
 knew, she is so polite and so fresh, with a skin like a flower, 
 and a figure not in the least thin, sir, but as round and firm as 
 a peach ! " 
 
 The counsellor's red blotches were almost bleeding through 
 the rush of blood to his face. Trublot and Gueulin looked at 
 the uncle ; and they felt a desire to slap him as they beheld 
 him with his set of false teeth, which were too white, and at 
 the corners of which the saliva trickled. What ! that old 
 carcass of an uncle, that wreck of the dirtiest bacchanals of 
 Paris, whose big flaming nose alone retained its place'
 
 196 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 between the hanging flesh of his cheeks, had an innocent little 
 thing stowed away in some room, regular flesh in the bud, 
 which he soiled with his old vices, concealed behind his pre- 
 tended simplicity of a palsied senile drunkard ! 
 
 Bachelard became quite tender-hearted, and resumed, licking 
 the brim of his liqueur glass with the tip of his tongue : 
 
 " After all, my sole dream is to make the child happy ! But 
 there, my pot-belly tells me I'm getting old, I'm like a father 
 to her. I give you my word ! if I found a very good young 
 fellow, I'd give her to him, oh ! in marriage, not otherwise." 
 
 " You would make two happy ones," murmured Duveyrier 
 sentimentally. 
 
 It was almost stifling in the small apartment. A glass of 
 chartreuse that had been upset had made the tablecloth all 
 sticky, it was also covered with cigar ash. The gentlemen were 
 in want of some fresh air. 
 
 "Would you like to see her?" abruptly asked the uncle ris- 
 ing from his seat. 
 
 They consulted one another with a glance. Well ! yes, they 
 were willing, if it could afford him any pleasure ; and their 
 affected indifference hid a gluttonous satisfaction at the thought 
 of going and finishing their dessert with the old fellow's little 
 one. Duveyrier merely observed that Clarisse was expecting 
 them. But Bachelard who, since his proposal, had become pale 
 and agitated, swore that they would not even sit down there ; 
 the gentlemen would see her, and then go off at once, at once. 
 They went down and waited some minutes on the Boulevard 
 whilst he settled the score. When he reappeared, Gueulin pre- 
 tended not to know where the young person lived. 
 
 " Let's get along, uncle ! Which is the way 1 ?" 
 
 Bachelard became quite grave again, tortured by his ridicul- 
 ously vain longing to exhibit Fifi and by his terror of being 
 robbed of her. For a moment he looked to the left, then to 
 the right, in an anxious way. At length, he boldly said : 
 
 Well ! no, I won't." 
 
 And he obstinately adhered to his determination, without 
 caring a straw for Trublot's chaff, nor even deigning to explain 
 by some pretext his sudden change of mind. They therefore 
 had to turn their steps in Clarisse's direction. As it was a 
 splendid evening, they decided to walk all the way. with the 
 hygienic idea of hastening their digestion. Then, they started 
 off down the Rue de Richelieu, pretty steady on their legs, but 
 so full that they considered the pavements far too narrow.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 197 
 
 Gueulin and Trublot walked first. Behind them came Bache- 
 lard and Duveyrier, deep in fraternal confidences. The first was 
 swearing to the second that it was not him whom he mistrusted : 
 he would have shown her to him, for he knew he was a man of 
 delicacy ; but it was always imprudent to expect too much of 
 youth, was it not? And the other approved, confessing also 
 the fears he once entertained respecting Clarisse : at first, he 
 had kept all his friends away ; then, he had had the pleasure 
 of receiving them, and had thus made himself a delightful abode, 
 when she had given him the most extraordinary proofs of 
 fidelity. Oh ! quite a strong-minded woman, incapable of for- 
 getting herself, and with plenty of heart, and most sound ideas ! 
 No doubt, one might reproach her with some little matters in 
 connection with her past, which had occurred through want of 
 proper guidance ; only, since she had loved him, she had re- 
 turned to the path of honour. The counsellor kept on thus all 
 along the B,ue de Rivoli ; whilst the uncle, annoyed at being 
 unable to put in another word about his little one, did his 
 utmost to restrain himself from telling the other of Clarisse's 
 goings-on with everybody. 
 
 " Yes, yes, no doubt," murmured he. " But rest assured, 
 dear sir, the best thing after all is virtue." 
 
 The house in the Rue de la Cerisaie seemed asleep amidst 
 the solitude and the silence of the street. Duveyrier was sur- 
 prised at not seeing any lights in the third floor windows. 
 Trublot said, with a serious air, that Clarisse had no doubt gone 
 to bed to wait for them ; or perhaps, Gueulin added, she was 
 playing a game of be"zique in the kitchen with her maid. They 
 knocked. The gas on the staircase was burning with the straight 
 and immovable flame of a lamp in some chapel. Not a sound, 
 not a breath. But, as the four men passed before the room of 
 the doorkeeper, the latter hastily came out. 
 
 " Sir, sir, the key ! " 
 
 Duveyrier stood stock-still on the first step. 
 
 " Is madame not there then 1 " asked he. 
 
 "No, sir. And, wait a moment, you must take a candle with 
 
 you." 
 
 As he handed him the candlestick, the doorkeeper allowed 
 quite a chuckle of ferocious and vulgar jocosity to pierce through 
 the exaggerated respect depicted on his pallid countenance. 
 Neither of the two young men nor the uncle had said a word. It 
 was in ths midst of this silence, and with bent backs, that they 
 ascended the stairs in single file, the interminable noise of their
 
 198 PIPING HOT 
 
 footsteps resounding up each mournful flight. At their head, 
 Duveyrier, who was puzzling himself trying to understand, 
 lifted his feet with the mechanical movement of a somnambulist ; 
 and the candle, which he held with a trembling hand, cast their 
 four shadows on the wall, resembling in their strange ascent a 
 procession of broken puppets. 
 
 On the third floor, a faintness came over him, and he was 
 quite unable to find the key-hole. Trublot did him the service 
 of opening the door. The key turned in the lock with a sonor- 
 ous and reverberating noise, as though beneath the vaulted roof 
 of some cathedral. 
 
 " Jupiter ! " murmured he, " it doesn't seem as if the place 
 was inhabited." 
 
 " It sounds empty," said Bachelard. 
 
 " A little family vault," added Gueulin. 
 
 They entered. Duveyrier passed first, holding high the 
 candle. The anteroom was empty, even the hat-pegs had dis- 
 appeared. The drawing-room and the parlour were also empty: 
 not a stick of furniture, not a curtain at the windows, not 
 even a brass rod. Duveyrier stood as one petrified, first look- 
 ing down at his feet, then raising his eyes to the ceiling, and 
 then searchingly gazing at the walls, as though he had been 
 seeking the hole through which everything had disappeared. 
 
 " What a clear out ! " Trublot could not help exclaiming. 
 
 "Perhaps the place is going to be done up," observed Gueulin 
 without so much as a smile. " Let us see the bedroom. The 
 furniture may have been moved in there." 
 
 But the bedroom was also bare, with that ugly and chilly 
 bareness of plaster walls from which the paper has been torn off. 
 Where the bedstead had stood, the iron supports of the canopy, 
 also removed, left gaping holes; and, one of the windows having 
 been left partly open, the air from the street filled the apart- 
 ment with the humidity and the unsavouriness of a public 
 square. 
 
 " My God ! my God ! " stuttered Duveyrier, at length able to 
 weep, unnerved by the sight of the place where the friction of 
 the mattresses had rubbed the paper off the wall 
 
 Uncle Bachelard became quite paternal 
 
 "Courage, sir!" he kept repeating. "The same thing 
 happened to me and I did not die of it. Honour is safe, damn 
 it all ! " 
 
 The counsellor shook his head and went into the dressing- 
 room, and then into the kitchen. The evidence of the disaster
 
 PIPING HOT ! 199 
 
 increased. The piece of American cloth behind the washstand 
 in the dressing-room had been taken down and the hooks had 
 been removed from the kitchen. 
 
 " No, that is too much, it is pure capriciousness ! " said 
 Gueulin in amazement. " She might have left the hooks." 
 
 Trublot, who was very tired after the dinner and the walk, 
 commenced to find this solitude far from amusing. But 
 Duveyrier, who did not let go of the candle, continued to wander 
 about, as though seized by a necessity to dive deeper into his 
 abandonment ; and the others were obliged to follow him. He 
 again went through each room, wishing to have another look at 
 the drawing-room, the parlour and the bed-chamber, carefully 
 casting the light into every corner ; whilst the gentlemen be- 
 hind him continued the procession of the staircase, with their 
 big dancing shadows, which strangely peopled the naked walls. 
 The noise of their footsteps on the boards assumed a sad sonor- 
 ousness in the mournful atmosphere. And, to complete the 
 melancholy, the whole place was scrupulously clean, without a 
 scrap of paper or a straw, as spotless as a well-washed porringer, 
 for the doorkeeper had had the cruelty to give a thorough good 
 sweep all round. 
 
 " 1 can't stand this any longer, you know," Trublot ended by 
 declaring, as they visited the drawing-room for the third time 
 " Really ! I would give ten sous for a chair." 
 
 All four came to a halt, standing. 
 
 " When did you see her last ? " asked Bachelard. 
 
 " Yesterday, sir! " exclaimed Duveyrier. 
 
 Gueulin wagged his head. By Jove ! it had not taken long, 
 it had been neatly done. But Trublot uttei'ed an exclamation. 
 He had just caught sight of a dirty collar and a damaged cigar 
 on the mantelpiece. 
 
 " Do not complain," said he laughing, " she has left you a 
 keepsake. It is always something." 
 
 Duveyrier looked at the collar with sudden emotion. Then, 
 he murmured : 
 
 " Twenty-five thousand francs' worth of furniture, there was 
 twenty-five thousand francs' worth ! Well ! no, no, it is not 
 that which I regret ! " 
 
 "You will not have the cigar 1 ?" interrupted Trublot. "Then, 
 allow me to. It has a hole in it, but I can stick a cigarette 
 paper over that." 
 
 He lighted it at the candle which the counsellor was still 
 holding, and letting himself drop down against the wall he added:
 
 200 PIPING HOT! 
 
 " So much the worse ! I must sit down a while on the floor. 
 My legs will not bear me any longer." 
 
 " I beg of you," at length said Duveyrier, " to explain to me 
 where she can possibly be." 
 
 Bachelard and Gueulin looked at each other. It was a deli- 
 cate matter. However, the uncle came to a manly decision, 
 and he told the poor fellow everything, all Clarisse's goings-on, 
 her continual escapades, the lovers she picked up behind his 
 back, at each of their parties. She had no doubt gone off with 
 the last one, big Payan, that mason of whom a Southern town 
 wished to make an artist. Duveyrier listened to the abomin- 
 able story with an expression of horror. He allowed this cry of 
 despair to escape him : 
 
 " There is then no honesty left on earth ! " 
 
 And suddenly opening his heart, he told them all he had 
 done for her. He talked of his soul, he accused her of having 
 shaken his faith in the best sentiments of existence, naively 
 hiding beneath this sentimental pain the derangement of his 
 gross appetites. Clarisse had become necessary to him. But 
 he would find her again solely to make her blush for her be- 
 haviour, so he said, and to see if her heart had lost all noble- 
 ness. 
 
 " Leave her alone ! " exclaimed Bachelard delighted with the 
 counsellor's misfortune, " she will humbug you again. There 
 is nothing like virtue, understand ! It is far better to take a 
 little one devoid of malice, as innocent as the child just born. 
 Then, there is no danger, one may sleep in peace." 
 
 Trublot meanwhile was smoking leaning against the wall with 
 his legs stretched out. He was gravely reposing, the others 
 had forgotten him. 
 
 " If you particularly want it, I can find the address for you," 
 said he. " I know the maid." 
 
 Duveyrier turned round, surprised at that voice which seemed 
 to issue from the boards ; and, when he beheld him smoking all 
 that remained of Clarisse, puffing big clouds of smoke, in which 
 he fancied he beheld the twenty-five thousand francs' worth of 
 furniture evaporating, he made an angry gesture and replied : 
 
 " No, she is unworthy of me. She must beg my pardon on 
 her knees." 
 
 " Hallo ! here she is coming back ! " said Gueulin listening. 
 
 And someone was indeed walking in the anteroom, whilst a 
 voice said : " Well ! what's up 1 is every one dead 1 " And 
 Octave appeared. He was quite bewildered by the open doors
 
 PIPING HOT ! 201 
 
 and the empty rooms. But his amazement increased still more, 
 when he beheld the four men in the midst of the denuded draw- 
 ing-room, one sitting on the floor and the other three standing 
 up, and only lighted by the meagre candle which the counsel- 
 lor was holding like a taper at church. A few words sufficed to 
 inform him of what had occurred. 
 
 " It isn't possible ! " cried he. 
 
 " Did they not tell you anything then downstairs ] " asked 
 Gueulin. 
 
 "No, nothing at all ; the doorkeeper quietly watched me come 
 up. Ah ! so she's gone ! It does not surprise me. She had 
 such queer hair and eyes ! " 
 
 He asked some particulars, and stood talking a minute, for- 
 getful of the sad news which he had brought. Then turning 
 abruptly towards Duveyrier, he said : 
 
 " By the way, it's your wife who sent me to fetch you. Your 
 father-in-law is dying." 
 
 " Ah ! " simply observed the counsellor. 
 
 "Old Vabre!" murmured Bachelard. "I expected as much." 
 
 " Pooh ! when one gets to the end of one's reel ! " remarked 
 Gueulin philosophically. 
 
 " Yes, it's best to take one's departure," added Trublot, in 
 the act of sticking a second cigarette paper round his cigar. 
 
 The gentlemen at length decided to leave the empty apart- 
 ment. Octave repeated he had given his word of honour that 
 he would bring Duveyrier back with him at once, no matter 
 what state he was in. The latter carefully shut the door, 
 as though he had left his dead affections there; but, down- 
 stairs, he was overcome with shame, and Trublot had to 
 return the key to the doorkeeper. Then, outside on the pave- 
 ment, there was a silent exchange of hearty hand-shakes ; and, 
 directly the cab had driven off with Octave and Duveyrier, 
 uncle Bachelard said to Gueulin and Trublot as they stood in 
 the deserted street : 
 
 " Jove's thunder ! I must show her to you." 
 
 For a minute past he had been stamping about, greatly ex- 
 cited by the despair of that big noodle of a counsellor, bursting 
 with his own happiness, with that happiness which he con- 
 sidered due to his own deep malice, and which he could no 
 longer contain. 
 
 " You know, uncle," said Gueuliu, " if it's only to take us as 
 far as the door again and then to leave us " 
 
 " No, Jove's thunder ! you shall see her. It will please me.
 
 202 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 True it's nearly midnight ; but she shall get up if she's in bed. 
 You know, she's the daughter of a captain, Captain Menu, and 
 she has a very respectable aunt, born at Villeneuve, near Lille, 
 on my word of honour ! Messieurs Mardienne Brothers, of the 
 Rue Saiut-Sulpice, will give her a character. Ah ! Jove's 
 thunder ! we're in need of it ; you'll see what virtue is ! " 
 
 And he took hold of their arms, Gueulin on his right, Trublot 
 on his left, putting his best foot forward as he started off in 
 quest of a cab to arrive there the sooner. 
 
 Meanwhile, Octave briefly related to the counsellor all he 
 knew of Monsieur Vabre's attack, without hiding that Madame 
 Duveyrier was acquainted with the address of -the Rue de la 
 Cerisaie. After a pause, the counsellor asked in a doleful voice : 
 
 " Do you think she will forgive me 1 " 
 
 Octave remained silent. The cab continued to roll along, in 
 the obscurity lighted up every now and then by a ray from a 
 gas-lamp. Just as they were reaching their destination, Du- 
 veyrier, tortured with anxiety, put another question : 
 
 " The best thing for me to do for the present is to make it 
 up with my wife again, do you not think so ? " 
 
 " It would perhaps be wise," replied the young man, obliged 
 to answer. 
 
 Then, Duveyrier felt the necessity of regretting his father-in- 
 law. He was a man of great intelligence, with an incredible 
 capacity for work. However, they would very likely be able to 
 set him on his legs again In the Rue de Choiseul, they found 
 the street-door open, and quite a group gathered before Mon- 
 sieur Gourd's room. Julie, who had come down to go to the 
 chemist's, was abusing the masters who allow one another to die 
 without help when ill ; it was only workpeople who take each 
 other a bowl of broth, or anything needful ; during the two 
 hours he had been dying up there, the old fellow might have 
 swallowed his tongue twenty times, before his children would 
 have taken the trouble to put a lump of sugar into his mouth. 
 They were a hard-hearted lot, said Monsieur Gourd, people who 
 did not know how to make use of then- ten fingers, who would 
 have thought themselves dishonoured if they had had to give 
 their father an enema ; whilst Hippolyte, trying to surpass the 
 others, told them about madame upstairs, how stupid she looked, 
 with her arms dangling by her sides in front of the poor gentle- 
 man, around whom the servants were vying with each other to 
 do all they could. But they held their tongues, directly they 
 caught sight of Duveyrier.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 203 
 
 " Well ? " inquired the latter. 
 
 "The doctor is applying mustard poultices to Monsieur 
 Vabre," replied Hippolyte. " Oh ! I had such difficulty to 
 find him!" 
 
 Upstairs in the drawing-room, Madame Duveyrier came for- 
 ward to meet them. She had cried a great deal, her eyes 
 sparkled beneath the swollen lids. The counsellor, full of em- 
 barrassment, opened his arms ; and he embraced her as he 
 murmured : 
 
 " My poor Clotilde ! " 
 
 Surprised at this unusual display of affection, she drew back. 
 Octave had kept behind ; but he heard the husband add in a 
 low voice : 
 
 " Forgive me, let us forget our grievances on this sad occa- 
 sion. You see, I have come back to you, and for always. Ah ! 
 I am well punished ! " 
 
 She did not reply, but disengaged herself. Then, resuming 
 in Octave's presence her attitude of a woman who desires to 
 ignore everything, she said : 
 
 " I -should not have disturbed you, my dear, for I know how 
 important that inquiry respecting the Rue de Provence is. But 
 I was all alone, I felt that your presence was necessary. My 
 poor father is lost. Go and see him ; you will find the doctor 
 there." 
 
 When Duveyrier had gone into the next room, she drew near 
 to Octave, who, so as not to appear to be listening to them, was 
 standing in front of the piano. The instrument was still open, 
 and the air from " Zemire and Azor " remained there just as they 
 had left it ; and he was pretending to be studying it. The soft 
 light from the lamp continued to illuminate only a portion of the 
 vast apartment. Madame Duveyrier looked at the young man 
 a minute without speaking, tormented by an uneasiness which 
 ended by forcing her to cast off her habitual reserve. 
 
 " Was he there ? " asked she briefly. 
 
 " Yes, madame." 
 
 " Then what has happened, what is the matter with him? " 
 
 " The person has left him, madame, and taken all the furni- 
 ture away with her. I found him with nothing but a candle 
 between the bare walls." 
 
 Clotilde made a gesture of despair. She understood. An 
 expression of repugnance and discouragement appeared on her 
 beautiful face. It was not enough that she had lost her father, 
 it seemed as though this misfortune was also to serve as a pre-
 
 204 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 text for a reconciliation with her husband ! She knew him 
 well, he would be forever after her, now that there would be 
 nothing elsewhere to protect her ; and, in her respect for every 
 duty, she trembled at the thought that she would be unable to 
 refuse to submit to the abominable service. - For an instant, 
 she looked at the piano. Bitter tears came to her eyes, as she 
 simply said to Octave : 
 
 " Thank you, sir." 
 
 They both passed in turn into Monsieur Vabre's bed-chamber. 
 Duveyrier, looking very pale, was listening to Doctor Juillerat, 
 who was giving him some explanations in a low voice. It was 
 an attack of serous apoplexy ; the patient might last till the 
 morrow, but there was not the slightest hope of his recovery. 
 Clotilde just at that moment entered the room ; she heard this 
 giving over of the patient, and dropped into a chair, wiping her 
 eyes with her handkerchief, already soaked with tears, and 
 twisted up, and almost reduced to a pulp. She, however, found 
 the strength to ask the doctor if her poor father would recover 
 consciousness. The doctor had his doubts ; and, as though he 
 had penetrated the object of the question, he expressed the 
 hope that Monsieur Vabre had long since put his affairs in 
 order. Duveyrier, whose mind seemed to have remained behind 
 in the Rue de la Cerisaie, now appeared to wake up. He looked 
 at his wife, and then remarked that Monsieur Vabre confided in 
 no one. He therefore knew nothing, he had merely received 
 some promises in favour of their son, Gustave, whom his grand- 
 father often talked of bettering, to reward them for having taken 
 him to live with them. In any case, if a will existed, it would 
 be found. 
 
 " I presume the family knows what has happened," said 
 Doctor Juillerat, 
 
 " Well ! no," murmured Clotilde. " I received such a shock ! 
 My first thought was to send Monsieur Mouret for my husband." 
 
 Duveyrier gave her another glance. Now, they understood 
 each other. He slowly approached the bed, and examined 
 Monsieur Vabre, stretched out in his corpse-like stiffness, and 
 whose immovable face was streaked with yellow blotches. One 
 o'clock struck. The doctor talked of withdrawing, for he had 
 tried all the usual remedies, and could do nothing more. He 
 would call again early on the morrow. At length, he was going 
 off with Octave, when Madame Duveyrier called the latter 
 back. 
 
 " We will wait till to-morrow," said she, " you can send Berthe
 
 PIPING HOT! 205 
 
 to me under some pretext ; I will also get Valerie to come, and 
 they shall break the news to my brothers. Ah ! poor things, 
 let them sleep in peace this night ! There is quite enough with 
 our haying to watch in tears." 
 
 And she and her husband remained alone with the old man, 
 whose death rattle chilled the chamber.
 
 206 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Octave went down on the morrow at eight o'clock, he was 
 greatly surprised to find the entire house acquainted with the 
 attack of the night before, and the desperate condition of the 
 landlord. The house, however, was not concerned about the 
 patient : it was solely interested in what he would leave behind 
 him. 
 
 The Pichons were seated before some basins of chocolate in 
 their little dining-room. Jules called Octave in. 
 
 " I say, what a fuss there will be if he dies like that ! We 
 shall see something funny. Do you know if he has made a 
 
 will]" 
 
 The young man, without answering, asked them where they 
 had heard the news. Marie had learnt it at the baker's ; more- 
 over, it crept from storey to storey, and even to the end of the 
 street by means of the servants. Then, after slapping Lilitte, 
 who was soaking her fingers in her chocolate, the young woman 
 observed in her turn : 
 
 " Ah ! all that money ! If he only thought of leaving us as 
 many sous as there are five franc pieces. But there is no fear 
 of that ! " 
 
 And as Octave took his departure, she added : 
 
 " I have finished your books, Monsieur Mouret Will you 
 please take them when convenient? " 
 
 He was hastening downstairs, feeling anxious, as he recollected 
 having promised Madame Duveyrier to send Berthe to her 
 before 3 any thing was known of the matter, when, on the third 
 floor, he came in contact with Campardon, who was going out. 
 
 " Well ! " said the latter, " so your employer is coming in for 
 something. I have heard that the old fellow has close upon six 
 hundred thousand francs, besides this property. You see, he 
 spent nothing at the Duveyriers', and he had a good deal left of 
 what he brought from Versailles, without counting the twenty 
 and odd thousand francs received in rent from the house. Eh 1
 
 PIPING HOT ! 207 
 
 it is a fine cake to share, when there are only three to partake of 
 it!" 
 
 Whilst talking thus, he continued to go down behind Octave. 
 But, on the second floor, they met Madame Juzeur, who was 
 returning from seeing what her little maid, Louise, could be 
 doing of a morning, taking over an hour to fetch four sous' 
 worth of milk. She entered naturally into the conversation, 
 being very well informed. 
 
 " It is not known how he has settled his affairs," murmured 
 she in her gentle way. " There will perhaps be some bother." 
 
 "Ah, well !" said the architect, gaily, " I should like to be 
 in their shoes. It would not take long. One makes three equal 
 shares, each takes his own, and there you are ! " 
 
 Madame Juzuer leant over the balusters, then raised her head, 
 and made s\ire that no one else was on the stairs. At length, 
 lowering her voice, she observed : 
 
 "And if they did not find what they expected? There are 
 rumours about." 
 
 The architect opened his eyes wide with amazement. Then 
 he shrugged his shoulders. Pooh ! mere gossip ! Old Vabre 
 was a miser who hid his savings in worsted stockings. And he 
 went off, as he had an appointment at Saint-Roch with the Abb6 
 Mauduit. 
 
 " My wife complains of you," said he to Octave, looking back, 
 after going down three stairs. " Call in and have a chat with 
 her now and then." 
 
 Madame Juzeur detained the young man a moment. 
 
 "And I, how you neglect me! I thought you loved me a 
 little. When you come, I will let you taste a liqueur from the 
 West Indies, oh ! something delicious ! " 
 
 He promised to call on her, and hastened to reach the 
 vestibule. But, before arriving at the little door communicating 
 between the shop and the porch, he was again obliged to pass 
 through a whole group of servants, who were distributing 
 the dying man's belongings. So much for Madame Clotilde, so 
 much for Monsieur Auguste, so much for Monsieur Theophile. 
 Cleinence boldly gave the figures; she knew the amount for 
 certain, for Hippolyte had told it to her, and he had seen the 
 money in a drawer. Julie however disputed it. Lisa related 
 how her first master, an old gentleman, had bilked her by dying 
 without even leaving her his dirty linen; whilst Adele, her 
 mouth wide open and swinging her arms, was listening to all 
 these stories of inheritances, which tumbled down gigantic piles
 
 208 PIPING HOT! 
 
 of five franc pieces before her. And, out on the pavement, 
 Monsieur Gourd, looking very solemn, was talking with the 
 stationer opposite. In his eyes, the landlord was already dead. 
 " What interests me," said he, " is to know who will have 
 the house. They have divided everything, very good ! but the 
 house, they cannot cut it into three." 
 
 Octave at length entered the warehouse. The first person he 
 beheld, seated at the cashier's desk, was Madame Josserand 
 under arms, polished up and laced, and her hair already done. 
 Close beside her, Berthe, who had no doubt come down in haste, 
 in the charming deshabille of a dressing-gown, appeared to be 
 very excited. But they stopped talking on catching sight of 
 him, and the mother looked at him with a terrible eye. 
 
 " So, sir," said she, " it is thus that you love the firm ? You 
 enter into the plots of my daughter's enemies." 
 
 He wished to defend himself, and state the facts of the case. 
 But she prevented him from speaking, she accused him of 
 having spent the night with the Duveyriers, looking for the will, 
 to insert all sorts of things in it. And, as he laughed, asking 
 what interest he could have had in doing such a thing, she 
 resumed : 
 
 " Your own interest, your own interest. In short ! sir, you 
 should have hastened to inform us, as God was good enough to 
 make you a witness of the occurrence. When one thinks that, 
 had it not been for me, my daughter would still have been in 
 ignorance of it ! Yes, she would have been despoiled, had I 
 not rushed downstairs the moment I heard the news. Eh ! 
 your interest, your interest, sir, who knows ? Though Madame 
 Duveyrier is very faded, yet some people not over particular 
 may still find her good enough perhaps." 
 
 " Oh ! mamma ! " said Berthe, " Clotilde who is so vir- 
 tuous ! " 
 
 But Madame Josserand shrugged her shoulders pityingly. 
 " Pooh ! you know very well people will do anything for 
 money ! " 
 
 Octave was obliged to relate to them all the circumstances of 
 the attack. They exchanged glances : as the mother said, there 
 had evidently been manoeuvres. Clotilde was really too kind to 
 wish to spare her relations emotions ! However, they let the 
 young man start on his work, though still having their doubts 
 as to his conduct in the matter. Their lively explanation con- 
 tinued. 
 
 " And who will pay the fifty thousand francs agreed xipon in
 
 PIPING HOT! 209 
 
 the contract ? " said Madame Josserand, " We are not likely to 
 see a single one of them when he is dead and buried." 
 
 " Oh ! the fifty thousand francs ! " murmured Berthe in an 
 embarrassed way. " You know he only agreed as we did to pay 
 ten thousand francs every six months. The time is not up yet, 
 the best thing is to wait." 
 
 " Wait ! wait till he comes back and brings them to you, I 
 suppose ! You great blockhead, do you want to be robbed ? 
 No, no ! you must demand them at once out of the estate. As 
 for us, we are still alive, thank goodness ! It is not known 
 whether we shall pay or not ; but with him it is another thing, 
 as he is dead he must pay." 
 
 And she made her daughter swear not to yield, for she had 
 never given any one the right to take her for a fool. Whilst 
 fanning her anger, she now and again turned an ear towards the 
 ceiling, as though she wished to overhear what was taking place 
 at the Duveyriers' on the first floor, in spite of the " entresol " 
 floor which intervened. The old fellow's bed-chamber was, as 
 nearly as possible, just over her head. Auguste had at once 
 gone up to his father, on learning from her what had taken 
 place. But that did not ease her, she longed to be there her- 
 self, imagining the most complicated plots. 
 
 " Go up too ! " she ended by exclaiming, in a cry from her 
 heart. " Auguste is too weak, they are sure to be taking him 
 in again ! " 
 
 Then, Berthe went off upstairs. Octave, who was arranging 
 the display in the window, had listened to what they said. 
 When he found himself alone with Madame Josserand, and saw 
 her moving in the direction of the door, he asked her, in the 
 hope of a holiday, whether it would not be proper to close the 
 warehouse. 
 
 " Whatever for 1 '' inquired she. " Wait till he is dead. It 
 is not worth while losing a day's sale." 
 
 Then, as he folded a remnant of poppy-coloured silk, she 
 added, to soften the harshness of her words : 
 
 " Only, you may as well, I think, not put any red in the 
 window." 
 
 Up on the first floor, Berthe found Auguste with his father. 
 The room had in no way changed since the day before ; it was 
 still dampish, and silent, save for the same long and painful 
 death rattle. The old man on the bed continued perfectly rigid, 
 in a complete annihilation of all feeling and movement. The 
 oak box filled with tickets still littered the table ; not an article 
 
 o
 
 210 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 of furniture seemed to have been moved, or even opened. 1 The 
 Duveyriers, however, appeared to be more dejected, tired out 
 by a sleepless night, an anxious twinge in their eyelids, their 
 minds a prey to a continuous pre-occupation. As early as seven 
 o'clock, they had sent Hippolyte to fetch their son Gustave 
 from the Lyce"e Bonaparte ; and the youngster, a thin and 
 precocious youth of sixteen, was there, in all the flutter of 
 that unexpected holiday to be spent in the company of a dying 
 man. 
 
 " Ah ! my dear, what a frightful visitation ! " said Clotilde, 
 going up to and embracing Berthe. 
 
 " Why not have informed us of it 1 " asked the latter, with 
 her mother's affected pout. " We were there to help you to 
 bear it." 
 
 Auguste, with a glance, begged her to keep silent. The 
 moment for quarrelling had not arrived. They could wait. 
 Doctor Juillerat, who had already been once, was to call again ; 
 but he still gave no hope, the patient would not live through 
 the day. Auguste was informing his wife of this, when 
 Theophile and Valerie entered in their turn. Clotilde at 
 once advanced to meet them, and repeated as she embraced 
 Valerie : 
 
 " What a frightful visitation, my dear ! " 
 
 But Theophile was in a state of great excitement. " So, now," 
 said he, without even lowering his voice, " when one's father is 
 dying one only hears of it through the charcoal-dealer. Did 
 you then require time to rifle his pockets ? " 
 
 Duveyrier rose up indignantly. But Clotilde motioned him 
 aside, whilst she answered her brother very gently : 
 
 " Unhappy man ! is our father's death agony not even sacred 
 to you ] Look at him, behold your work ; yes, it is you who 
 have brought him to this, by refusing to pay your overdue 
 rent." 
 
 Valerie burst out laughing. 
 
 " Come," said she, " you are not speaking seriously." 
 
 " What ! not speaking seriously ! " resumed Clotilde, filled 
 with indignation. " You know how much he liked to collect 
 his rents. Had you really wished to kill him, you could not 
 have acted in a better way." 
 
 And they came to high words, they reciprocally accused one 
 another of wishing to lay hands on the estate, when Aiiguste, 
 still sullen and calm, requested them to recollect where they 
 were.
 
 PIPING HOT! 211 
 
 " Keep quiet ! You have plenty of time. It is not decent 
 at such a moment." 
 
 Then the others, admitting the justice of this observation, 
 settled themselves around the bed. A deep silence ensued ; 
 again nothing but the death-rattle was heard in the moist 
 atmosphere of the room. Berthe and Auguste were at the 
 dying man's feet ; Valerie and The'ophile, being the last comers, 
 had been obliged to seat themselves at the table, some dis- 
 tance off; whilst Clotilde was at the head of the bed, with her 
 husband behind her; and she had pushed her son Gustave, 
 whom the old man adored, close up against the edge of the 
 mattresses. They now all looked at one another, without ex- 
 changing a word. But the bright eyes, the tightly-compressed 
 lips, told of the hidden thoughts, the surmises full of anxiety 
 and irritation, which were passing in the pale-faced heads of 
 those next-of-kin, with their red and swollen eyelids. The 
 sight of the collegian, so close to the bed, especially exasperated 
 the two young couples ; for it was self-evident that the Duvey- 
 riers were counting on Gustave's presence to influence the 
 grandfather's affections if he recovered consciousness. 
 
 Moreover, this manoeuvre was a proof that in all probability 
 no will existed ; and the Vabres glanced covertly at the old iron 
 safe which the retired notary had brought with him from Ver- 
 sailles and had had fixed in the wall of his bed-chamber. He 
 had a mania for shutting up all sorts of things inside it. No 
 doubt, the Duveyriers had hastened to ransack this safe during 
 the night. The'ophile had the idea of laying a trap for them to 
 compel them to speak. 
 
 " I say," he at length went and whispered in the counsellor's 
 ear, " suppose we send for the notary. Papa may wish to alter 
 his will." 
 
 Duveyrier did not at first hear. As he felt excessively bored 
 in that room, he had allowed his thoughts all through the night 
 to revert to Clarisse. The wisest thing would decidedly be to 
 make it up with his wife ; but then the other was so funny, when 
 she threw her chemise over her head, with the gesture of a 
 street-arab ; and with his vague glance fixed on the dying man, 
 he still had visions of her, and would have given everything to 
 have had her with him again. The'ophile was obliged to repeat 
 his question. 
 
 " I have questioned Monsieur Renaudin," at length answered 
 the counsellor in a bewildered way. " There is no will." 
 
 " But here ? "
 
 212 PIPING HOT! 
 
 " No more here than at the notary's." 
 
 Theophile looked at Auguste ; was it not sufficiently evident 1 
 the Duveyriers had searched everything. Clotilde saw the 
 glance, and was greatly irritated with her husband. What was 
 the matter with him 1 was grief sending him to sleep 1 And 
 she added : 
 
 " Papa has no doubt done what he thought right. We shall 
 learn it only too soon, heaven knows ! " 
 
 She burst into tears. Valerie and Berthe, affected by her 
 grief, also started off, sobbing gently. Theophile had returned 
 to his chair on tip-toe. He knew what he wished to know. If 
 his father regained consciousness, he would certainly not allow 
 the Duveyriers to take advantage of their hobbledehoy of a son 
 to get the lion's share. But as he sat down, he saw his brother 
 Auguste wipe his eyes, and this affected him so much that he 
 also nearly choked: the thought of death came to him, he 
 would perhaps die of the same illness, it was abominable. 
 Then the whole family wept, except Gustave, who could .not 
 cry. He was struck with consternation, he looked on the 
 ground, and tried to make his breathing keep time with the 
 rattle, for the sake of doing something, the same as he was made 
 to walk in step at his gymnastic lessons. 
 
 Meanwhile, the hours passed away. At eleven o'clock they 
 had a diversion, Doctor Juillerat again calling. The patient's 
 condition was becoming worse and worse, it was now even 
 doubtful whether he would be able to recognize his children 
 before dying. And the sobbing started afresh, when Clemence 
 announced the Abbe Mauduit Clotilde, who rose to meet him, 
 was the first to receive his consolations. He appeared to be 
 deeply affected by the family visitation ; he had an encouraging 
 word for each. Then, with much tact, he talked of the rights 
 of religion, insinuating that they should not let that soul pass 
 away without the succour of the Church. 
 " I had thought of it," murmured Clotilde. 
 But Theophile raised objections. Their father was not at all 
 religious ; he had at one time very advanced ideas, for he was 
 a reader of Voltaire's works ; in short, the best thing was to do 
 nothing, as they were unable to consult him. In the heat of 
 the discussion, he even added : 
 
 " It is as though you brought the sacrament to that piece of 
 furniture." 
 
 The three women compelled him to leave off. They were all 
 trembling with emotion, and said that the priest was right,
 
 PIPING HOT! 213 
 
 whilst they excused themselves for not having sent for him 
 before, through the confusion in which the catastrophe had 
 plunged them. Monsieur Vabre would certainly have consented 
 had he been able to speak, for he had a horror of acting 
 different to other people. Moreover, the ladies would take the 
 responsibility on their own shoulders. 
 
 " It should be done if only on account of the neighbours," 
 repeated Clotilde. 
 
 "No doubt," said the Abbe" Mauduit, who hastened to give 
 his approval. " A man of your father's position should set a 
 good example." 
 
 Auguste had no opinion either way. But Duveyrier, aroused 
 from his recollections of Clarisse, whose way of putting on her 
 stockings with one leg in the air he was just then thinking of, 
 energetically demanded the sacraments. They were absolutely 
 necessary ; not a member of the family should die without 
 them. Doctor Juillerat, who had discreetly moved on one side, 
 hiding his freethinker's disdain, then went up to the priest, and 
 said familiarly to him, in a whisper, the same as to a colleague 
 often encountered under similar circumstances : 
 
 " Be quick ; you have no time to lose." 
 
 The priest hastened to take his departure. He announced 
 that he would bring the sacrament and the extreme unction, so 
 as to be prepared for every emergency. And TheVphile, in his 
 obstinacy, murmured : 
 
 " Ah, well ! so dying people are now made to receive the 
 communion in spite of themselves ! " 
 
 But they all at once experienced a great emotion. On regain- 
 ing her place, Clotilde had found the dying man with his 
 eyes wide open. She could not repress a faint cry ; the others 
 hastened to the bedside ; and the old fellow's glance slowly 
 wandered round the circle, without tha least movement of his 
 head. Doctor Juillerat, with an air of surprise, came and bent 
 over his patient, to follow this last crisis. 
 
 " Father, it is us ; do you know us 1 " asked Clotilde. 
 
 Monsieur Vabre looked at her fixedly ; then his lips moved, 
 but not a sound came from them. They were all pushing one 
 another, wishing to secure his last word. Valerie, who found 
 herself right at the rear, and obliged therefore to stand on tip- 
 toe, said harshly : 
 
 "You are stifling him. Do move away from him. If he 
 desired anything, no one would be able to know."
 
 214 PIPING HOT! 
 
 The others had to draw on one side. And Monsieur Vabre's 
 eyes were indeed looking round the room. 
 
 " He wants something, that is certain," murmured Berthe. 
 
 " Here's Gustave," said Clotilde. " You see him, do you 
 not? He has come expressly from school to embrace you. 
 Kiss your grandfather, my child." 
 
 As the youngster drew back frightened, she kept him there 
 with her arm, whilst she awaited a smile on the dying man's 
 distorted features. But Auguste, who had been watching his 
 eyes, declared that he was looking at the table ; no doubt he 
 wished to write. This caused quite a shock. All tried to be 
 first. They brought the table to the bedside, and fetched some 
 paper, an inkstand, and a pen. Then they raised him, propping 
 him up with three pillows. The doctor gave his consent to all 
 this with a simple blink of the eyes. 
 
 " Give him the pen," said Clotilde, quivering, and without 
 leaving go of Gustave, whom she continued to hold towards 
 him. 
 
 Then came a solemn moment. The relations, pressed round 
 the bed, awaited anxiously. Monsieur Vabre, who did not 
 appear to recognise any one, had let the penholder drop from 
 his fingers. For a moment his eyes wandered over the table, 
 on which was the oak box full of tickets. Then, slipping from 
 off his pillows, and falling forward like a piece of rag, he 
 stretched out his arm in a final effort, and, plunging his hand 
 amongst the tickets, he dabbled about, in the happy manner of 
 a baby playing with something dirty. He brightened up, and 
 wished to speak, but he could only lisp one syllable, ever the 
 same, one of those syllables into which brats in swaddling- 
 clothes put a whole host of sensations. 
 
 " Ga ga ga ga " 
 
 It was to the work of his life, to his great statistical study, 
 that he was bidding good-bye. Suddenly his head rolled over. 
 He was dead. 
 
 " I expected as much," murmured the doctor, who, seeing how 
 scared the relations were, carefully laid him out, and closed his 
 eyes. 
 
 Was it possible ? Auguste had removed the table, they all 
 remained chilled and dumb. Soon their sobs burst forth. Well ! as 
 there was nothing more to hope for, they would manage all the 
 same to share the fortune. And Clotilde, after hastening to send 
 Gustave away, to spare him the frightful spectacle, gave free vent 
 to her tears, her head leaning against Berthe, who was sobbing
 
 PIPING HOT ! 215 
 
 the same as Valerie. Standing at the window, The'ophile and 
 Auguste were roughly rubbing their eyes. But Duveyrier 
 especially exhibited a most extraordinary amount of grief, stifling 
 heart-rending sobs in his handkerchief. No, really, he could 
 not live without Clarisse, he would rather die at once, like the 
 other one there ; and the loss of his mistress, coming in the 
 midst of all this mourning, caused him immense bitterness. 
 
 " Madame," announced Clemence, " here are the sacraments." 
 
 Abbe Mauduit appeared on the threshold. Behind his 
 shoulder, one caught a glimpse of the face full of curiosity of a 
 boy chorister. On beholding the display of grief, the priest 
 questioned the doctor with a glance, whilst the latter extended 
 his arms, as though to say it was not his fault. So, after 
 mumbling a few prayers, Abb6 Mauduit withdrew with an air 
 of embarrassment, taking his paraphernalia along with him. 
 
 " It is a bad sign," said Cldmence to the other servants, 
 standing in a group at the door of the anteroom. " The sacra- 
 ments are not to be brought for nothing. You will see they 
 will be back in the house before another year goes by." 
 
 Monsieur Vabre's funeral did not take place till the day after 
 the morrow. Duveyrier, all the same, had inserted in the circu- 
 lars announcing his demise, the words, "provided with the 
 sacraments of the Church." 
 
 As the warehouse did not open on that day, Octave was free. 
 This holiday delighted him, as, for a long time past, he had 
 wished to put his room straight, alter the position of some of 
 the furniture, and arrange his few books in a little bookcase he 
 had bought second-hand. He had risen earlier than usual, and 
 was just finishing what he was about towards eight o'clock on 
 the morning of the funeral, when Marie knocked at the door. 
 She had brought him back a heap of books. 
 
 " As you do not come for them," said she, "I am obliged to 
 take the trouble to return them to you." 
 
 But she blushingly refused to enter, shocked at the idea of 
 being in a young man's room. Their intimate relations had, 
 moreover, completely ceased, in quite a natural manner, because 
 he had not returned to her. And she remained quite as affec- 
 tionate with him, always greeting him with a smile whenever 
 they met 
 
 Octave was very merry that morning. He wished to tease her. 
 
 " So it is Jules who won't let you come into my room ?" he 
 kept saying. " How do you get on with Jules now ? Is he 
 amiable ? Yes, you know what I mean. Answer now 1 "
 
 216 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 Sho laughed, and was not at all scandalized. 
 
 " Why, of course ! whenever you take him out, you treat him 
 to vermouth, and tell him things which send him home like a 
 madman. Oh ! he is too amiable. You know, I don't ask for so 
 much. Still, I prefer it should take place, at home than else- 
 where, that's very certain." 
 
 She became serious again, and added : 
 
 " Here, I have brought you back your Balzac, I was not able 
 to finish it. It's too sad. That gentleman has nothing but dis- 
 agreeable things to tell one ! " 
 
 And she asked him for stories with a great deal of love in 
 them, and travels and adventures in foreign lauds. Then she 
 talked of the funeral, she would attend the service in the 
 church, and Jules was going to follow the corpse to the ceme- 
 tery. She had never been afraid of dead people ; when twelve 
 years old, she had remained a whole night beside an uncle and 
 an aunt who had been carried off by the same fever. Jules, on 
 the contrary, hated talking of death to such a point that he had 
 forbidden her since the day before to speak of the landlord 
 stretched out on his back downstairs ; but she could find nothing 
 to say about anything else, nor he either, so that they did not 
 exchange ten words an hour, but sat thinking of the poor 
 gentleman all the while. It was becoming wearisome, she 
 would be glad when he was taken away, for Jules's sake. And, 
 happy at being able to discuss the subject to her heart's con- 
 tent, she satisfied her inclination, harassing the young man with 
 questions : had he seen him ? was he very much altered 1 was 
 she to believe what was related about an abominable accident 
 which occurred whilst he was being put in his coffin ? as for the 
 relations, were they not pulling the mattresses to pieces, so as 
 to search everything? So many idle stories circulated in a 
 house like theirs, where there was such a number of servants ! 
 Death was death : everyone was interested in it. 
 
 " You're giving me another Balzac," resumed she, looking at 
 the books he was again lending her. " No, take it back, it is 
 too realistic." 
 
 As she held the volume out to him, he caught hold of her by 
 the wrist, and tried to draw her into the room. She amused 
 him with all her curiosity about death ; he thought her 
 comic and more lively, and on a sudden she became an 
 object to be desired. But she comprehended, and turned 
 very red, then, disengaging herself, she hastened away, 
 saying :
 
 PIPING HOT ! 217 
 
 " Thank you, Monsieur Mouret. I shall see you by-and-by at 
 the funeral." 
 
 When Octave was dressed, he remembered his promise to go 
 and see Madame Campardon. He had two good hours to while 
 away, the funeral being timed for eleven o'clock, and he thought 
 of utilizing his morning in making a few calls in the house. 
 Rose received him in bed ; he apologized, fearing that he dis- 
 turbed her; but she herself called him in. They saw so little 
 of him, and she was so delighted at having some one to talk to. 
 
 " Ah ! my dear child," declared she at once, " it is I who 
 ought to be below, nailed up between four planks ! " 
 
 Yes, the landlord was very lucky, he had finished with exist- 
 ence. And Octave, surprised at finding her a prey to such 
 melancholy, asked her if she felt worse. 
 
 " No, thank you. It is always the same. Only there are 
 times when I have had enough of it. Achille has been obliged 
 to have a bed put up in his workroom, because it annoyed me 
 whenever he moved in the night. And you know that Gasparine 
 has yielded to our entreaties, and has left the drapery establish- 
 ment. I am very grateful to her, she nurses me so tenderly ! 
 Ah ! I could no longer live were it not for all these kind affec- 
 tions around me ! " 
 
 Just then, Gasparine, with her submissive air of a poor rela- 
 tion, fallen to the rank of a servant, brought her a cup of 
 coffee and some bread and butter. She helped her to raise her- 
 self, propping her up against some cushions, and served her on 
 a little tray covered with a napkin. And Rose, dressed in a 
 little loose embroidered jacket, ate with a hearty appetite, 
 amidst the linen, edged with lace. She was quite fresh, looking 
 younger than ever, and very pretty, with her white skin, and 
 short fair curly hair. 
 
 " Oh ! the stomach is all right, it is not the stomach that is 
 ailing," she kept saying, as she soaked her slices of bread and 
 butter. 
 
 Two tears dropped into her coffee. Then Gasparine scolded 
 her. 
 
 " If you cry, I shall call Achille. Are you not pleased ? are 
 you not sitting there like a queen ? " 
 
 When Madame Campardon had finished, and she again found 
 herself alone with Octave, she was quite consoled. Out of 
 coquetry, she again returned to the subject of death, but with 
 the gentle gaiety of a woman idling away the morning between 
 her warm sheets. Well ! she would go off all the same, when
 
 218 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 her turn came ; only, they were right, she was not unhappy, she 
 could let herself live ; for, in point of fact, they spared her all 
 the main cares of life. 
 
 Then, as the young man rose to leave, she added : 
 
 "Now do try and come oftener? Amuse yourself well, don't 
 let the funeral make you too sad. One dies a trifle every day, 
 the thing is to get used to it." 
 
 It was the little maid Louise who opened the door to Octave 
 at Madame Juzeur's, on the same lauding. She ushered him 
 into the drawing-room, looked at him a moment as she laughed 
 in her bewildered sort of way, and then ended by stating that 
 her mistress was just finishing dressing. Madame Juzeur ap- 
 peared almost at ouce, dressed in black, and looking gentler 
 and more refined than ever in her mourning. 
 
 " I felt sure you would call this morning," sighed she with a 
 weary air. " All night long I have been dreaming and seeing 
 you. It is impossible to sleep, you understand, with that 
 corpse in the house ! " 
 
 And she admitted that she had got up three times in the 
 night to look under the furniture. 
 
 " But you should have called me ! " said the young man gal- 
 lantly. " Two in a bed are never frightened." 
 
 She assumed a charming air of shame. 
 
 " Hold your tongue, it's naughty ! " 
 
 And she held her open hand over his lips. He was naturally 
 obliged to kiss it. Then, she spread the fingers out, laughing 
 the while as though being tickled. But he, excited by this 
 play, sought to push matters farther. He had caught hold of 
 her, and was pressing her against his breast, without her mak- 
 ing the least attempt to free herself; then, in a very low voice, 
 he whispered in her ear : 
 
 " Come now, why won't you ? " 
 
 " Oh ! in any case, not to-day ! " 
 
 " Why not to-day 1 " 
 
 " What ! with that corpse below. No, no, it's impossible." 
 
 He was holding her tighter, and she was abandoning herself. 
 Their warm breaths were heating one another's faces. 
 
 " Then, when 1 to-morrow ? " 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " But you are free, your husband behaved so badly, that you 
 owe nothing to him." 
 
 And he was forcibly seizing her. But she, very supple, glided 
 from him. Then taking him in her arms, and holding him
 
 PIPING HOT! 219 
 
 so that he could not move, she murmured in her caressing 
 voice : 
 
 "Anything you like except that! You understand me, never 
 that, never, never ! I would sooner die. It's an idea of mine, 
 that's all? I have taken an oath, however there is no necessity 
 for you to know. You are then like other men, who are never 
 satisfied, so long as anything is refused them. Yet, I love you 
 a great deal. Anything you like, except that, my love ! " 
 
 In her determination, there was a sort of Jesuitical reserve, a 
 fear of the confessional, a certainty of having her minor sins 
 forgiven, whilst the great one would cause her no end of un- 
 pleasantness with her spiritual director. Then, there were 
 other unavowed sentiments, her honour and self-esteem blended 
 together, the coquetry of always having the advantage of men 
 by never satisfying them, and a shrewd personal enjoyment in 
 being smothered with kisses, without any after consequences. 
 She liked this better, and she stuck to it, not a man could 
 flatter himself of having succeeded with her, since her husband's 
 cowardly desertion. And she was a respectable woman ! 
 
 " No, sir, not one ! Ah ! I can hold up my head, I can ! 
 What a number of wretched women, in my position, would have 
 misconducted themselves ! " 
 
 She pushed him gently aside and rose from the sofa. 
 
 " Leave me. It worries me so much, does that corpse down- 
 stairs. It seems to me that the whole house smells of it." 
 
 Meanwhile, the time for the funeral was approaching. She 
 wished to be 'at the church beforehand, so as not to see all the 
 funeral trappings. But, while escorting him to the door, she 
 recollected having mentioned her liqueur ; she therefore made 
 him come in again, and fetched the bottle and a couple of 
 glasses herself. It was a very sweet cream, with a perfume of 
 flowers. When she had drank of it, a greediness like that of a 
 little girl gave an air of languid delight to her face. She could 
 have lived on sugar ; vanilla and rose-scented sweeties had the 
 same effect on her as an amorous caress. 
 
 " It will sustain us," said she. 
 
 And, when he kissed her on the mouth in the anteroom, she 
 closed her eyes. Their sugary lips seemed to be melting like 
 sweetmeats. 
 
 It was close upon eleven o'clock. The coffin had not been 
 brought down for exhibition, as the undertaker's men, after 
 wasting their time at a neighbouring wine-shop, had not finished 
 putting up the hangings. Octave went to have a look out
 
 220 PIPING HOT! 
 
 of curiosity. The porch was already closed in at the back 
 by a large black curtain, but the men had still to fix the hang- 
 ings over the door. And outside on the pavement^ a group of 
 maid-servants were gossiping with their noses in the air ; whilst 
 Hippolyte, dressed in deep mourning, hastened on the work with 
 a dignified air. 
 
 " Yes, madame," Lisa was saying to a dried-up woman, a 
 widow, who had been with Valerie for a week, " it will have 
 benefited her nothing. The story's well known in the neigh- 
 bourhood. To make sure of her share of what the old fellow 
 left behind him, she went and had a child by a butcher of the 
 Rue Sainte-Anne, because her husband looked as though he 
 were going to die right off. But the husband's still jogging 
 along, and it's the old chap who's gone. A fat lot of good she's 
 done herself with her dirty brat ! " 
 
 The widow, highly disgusted, nodded her head. 
 
 "It serves her right!" rejoined she. "She's had all her 
 piggishness for nothing. I sha'n't stay with her, you may 
 take my word. I gave her a week's notice this morning. 
 Her little monster Camille went messing all over my 
 kitchen ! " 
 
 But Lisa ran to question Julie, who came down to give Hip- 
 polyte some instructions. Then, after a few minutes' conversa- 
 tion, she returned to Valerie's servant 
 
 " It's an affair no one can understand. I think your mistress 
 might have spared herself the trouble of getting her child and 
 have let her husband die all the same, for it seems they're still 
 searching after the old fellow's fortune. The cook says they're 
 making such funny faces up there, the faces of people who'll be 
 fighting together before the day's over." 
 
 Adele now arrived, with four sous' worth of batter under her 
 apron, Madame Josserand having requested her never to show 
 anything that she was sent to fetch. Lisa insisted on seeing, 
 and then abused her and called her a fool. Whoever heard of 
 anyone going out for four sous' worth of butter ! Ah, well ! she 
 would have made those skinflints feed her better, or else she 
 would have fed herself before them ; yes, with the butter, the 
 sugar, the meat, everything. For some time past the other 
 servants had been thus inciting Adele to rebeL She was be- 
 coming perverted. She took up a small piece of the butter and 
 eat it at once without any bread, just to show the others how 
 brave she was. 
 
 " Shall we go up now ? " asked she.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 221 
 
 " Not I," said the widow, " I want to see him brought down. 
 I've been keeping an errand back on purpose for it." 
 
 " And I also," added Lisa. " I've heard he weighs twelve 
 stone. If they drop him on their beautiful staircase, won't it 
 j ust knock it about ! " 
 
 "Well, I'm going up, I'd rather not see him," resumed Adele. 
 " I don't want to dream again like I did last night, that he's 
 pulling my feet and abusing me because of the mess I make." 
 
 And she went off, followed by the jokes of the other two. 
 All night long, on the servants' floor, they had been amused by 
 Adele's nightmares. Moreover, so as not to be alone, the ser- 
 vants had left their doors open ; and, a funny coachman having 
 played at being a ghost, little cries and smothered laughter had 
 been heard along the passage up till daylight. Lisa said in an 
 affected way that she was not likely to forget it. It was a fine 
 bit of fun, all the same ! 
 
 But Hippolyte's angry voice brought their attention back to 
 the hangings. He was shouting out, forgetful of his dignified 
 air : 
 
 " You damned drunkard ! you're putting it on upside down !" 
 
 It was true, the workman was hooking on the escutcheon 
 bearing the deceased's monogram wrong side up. The black 
 hangings edged with silver lace were now fixed ; there remained 
 nothing but a few curtain-rests to put up, when a truck filled 
 with some poor person's furniture appeared at the door. A 
 youngster was drawing it along, whilst a tall, pale girl followed, 
 pushing behind. Monsieur Gourd, who was talking with his 
 friend, the stationer opposite, rushed up to them and, in spite 
 of the solemnity of his mourning, exclaimed : 
 
 " Well ! well ! what's he up to ? Can't you see, you fooH" 
 
 The tall girl interposed. 
 
 "I am the new lodger, sir, you know. This is my furniture." 
 
 " Impossible ! to-morrow ! " shouted the doorkeeper in a 
 rage. 
 
 She looked at him, and then at the funeral hangings, in a 
 stupefied sort of a way. This door walled up with black 
 evidently bewildered her. But she recovered herself, and ex- 
 plained that she could not leave her furniture out in the street. 
 Then Monsieur Gourd treated her roughly. 
 
 " You're the boot-stitcher, aren't you ? You've taken the 
 small room upstairs. Another piece of the landlord's obstinacy ! 
 All this for the sake of a hundred and thirty francs, and in spite 
 of the bother we had with the carpenter ! Yet he promised me
 
 222 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 he would never let to work-people any more. Ah ! bosh, now 
 it's going to begin again, and with a woman this time ! " 
 
 Then he recollected that Monsieur Vabre was dead. 
 
 " Yes, you may look ; it just happens that it's the landlord 
 who's dead, and if he'd gone off a week ago you'd not be here, 
 that's very certain ! Come, look sharp ; get it over before they 
 bring him down ! " 
 
 And, in his exasperation, he himself gave a shove to the 
 truck, pushing it through the hangings, which opened and 
 then slowly closed again. The tall, pale girl disappeared behind 
 the black mass. 
 
 " She comes at a nice time ! " observed Lisa. " How lively it 
 is to move into a lodging in the middle of a funeral ! Had I 
 been in her place, I'd have given the doorkeeper a bit of my 
 mind !" 
 
 But she held her tongue when Monsieur Gourd, who was the 
 terror of the servants, reappeared. His ill-temper arose from 
 the fact of its being rumoured that the house was going to fall 
 to Monsieur Theophile and his wife as their share of the in- 
 heritance. He would have given a hundred francs out of his 
 own pocket to have had Monsieur Duveyrier for landlord a 
 man who belonged to the magistracy. It was this that he was 
 explaining to the stationer. However, some of the people now 
 began to come out. Madame Juzeur passed and smiled at 
 Octave, who had found Trublot waiting on the pavement. 
 Then Marie appeared, and she, deeply interested, stood watch- 
 ing the men arrange the trestles for the coffin. 
 
 " The people on the second floor are extraordinary," said 
 Monsieur Gourd, raising his eyes to the closed shutters of that 
 storey. " One could almost fancy that they made their 
 arrangements to avoid acting like every one else. Yes, they 
 went away on a journey three days ago." 
 
 At this moment Lisa hid herself behind the widow, as she 
 caught sight of cousin Gasparine, who was bringing a wreath 
 of violets, a delicate attention on the part of the architect, de- 
 sirous of keeping on good terms with the Duveyriers. 
 
 " By Jove ! " declared the stationer, " she makes herself 
 smart, does the other Madame Campardon ! " 
 
 He innocently called her thus by the name all the tradespeople 
 of the neighbourhood gave to her. Lisa suppressed a laugh. But 
 there was a great disappointment. The servants suddenly learnt 
 that the coffin had been brought down. It was really too stupid 
 for them to have remained in the street looking at the black cloth!
 
 PIPING HOT ! 223 
 
 They hastened indoors ; and the coffin, borne by four men, was 
 indeed j ust coming out of the vestibule. The hangings darkened 
 the porch ; one could catch a glimpse of the white light. of the 
 courtyard beyond, which had been well washed that morning. 
 Little Louise, who had followed Madame Juzeur, was there 
 alone, standing on tiptoe, her eyes wide open and her face pale 
 with curiosity. The men who had carried down the coffin were 
 puffing and blowing at the foot of the stairs, the gildings and 
 imitation marble of which looked coldly solemn beneath the 
 faint light from the ground glass windows. 
 
 " He's gone off without his last quarter's rent ! " murmured 
 Lisa, with the waggish hatred of a Paris girl for landlords. 
 
 Then Madame Gourd, who had remained in her armchair on 
 account of her poor legs, rose painfully on her feet. As she 
 was quite unable to get even as far as the church, Monsieur 
 Gourd had told her to be sure and salute the landlord's corpse 
 when it passed their room. It was a matter of duty. She 
 went to the door with a mourning cap on her head, and curtsied 
 as the coffin went by. 
 
 At Saint-Roch, Doctor Juillerat made a show of not going 
 inside during the ceremony. There was, moreover, a tremend- 
 ous crowd, and quite a group of men preferred to remain on 
 the steps. The weather was very mild, a superb June day. 
 And, as they were unable to smoke, their conversation turned 
 upon politics. The principal door was left open, and at 
 moments the sound of the organs issued from the church, 
 which was draped in black and filled with lighted tapers, look- 
 ing like so many stars. 
 
 " You know that Monsieur Thiers will stand for our district 
 next year," announced Leon Josserand in his grave way. 
 
 " Ah ! " said the doctor. " Of course you will not vote for 
 him you who are a Republican ? " 
 
 The young man, whose opinions cooled down the more 
 Madame Dambreville introduced him into good society, curtly 
 answered : 
 
 "Why not 1 ? He is the declared adversary of the Em- 
 pire." 
 
 Then a heated discussion ensued. Leon talked of tactics, 
 whilst Doctor Juillerat stuck to principles. According to the 
 latter, the middle classes had had their day ; they were an 
 obstacle in the road of the Revolution ; now that they had ac- 
 quired property, they barred the future with greater obstinacy 
 and blindness than the old nobility.
 
 224 PIPING HOT 
 
 " You are afraid of everything ; you go in for the very worst 
 reaction the moment you fancy yourselves threatened ! " 
 
 At this Campardon flew into a passion. 
 
 " I, sir, have been a Jacobin and an atheist like you. But, 
 thank heaven ! reason came to me. No, I will not even stoop 
 to your Monsieur Thiers. A blunderhead a man who amuses 
 himself with chimeras ! " 
 
 However, all the Liberals present Monsieur Josserand, 
 Octave, Trublot even, who did not care a straw, declared that 
 they would vote for Monsieur Thiers. The official candidate 
 was a great chocolate manufacturer of the Rue Saint-Honor^, 
 Monsieur Dewinck, whom they chaffed immensely. This 
 Monsieur Dewinck had not even the support of the clergy, who 
 were uneasy at his relations with the Tuileries. Campardon, 
 decidedly gone over to the priests, greeted his name with re- 
 serve. Then, suddenly changing the subject, he exclaimed : 
 
 " Look here ! the bullet which wounded your Garibaldi in 
 the foot ought to have pierced his heart ! " 
 
 And, so as not to be seen any longer in the company of these 
 gentlemen, he entered the church, where the Abbe Mauduit's 
 shrill voice was responding to the lamentations of the chanters. 
 
 " He sleeps there now," murmured the doctor, shrugging his 
 shoulders. " Ah ! what a clean sweep ought to be made of it 
 all!" 
 
 The Roman question interested him immensely. Then, as 
 Leon reminded them of the words of the Cabinet Minister to 
 the Senate that the Empire had sprung from the Revolution, 
 only in order to keep it within bounds, they returned to the 
 coming elections. All were agreed upon the necessity of giving 
 the Emperor a lesson ; but they were beginning to be troubled 
 with anxiety, they were already divided respecting the candi- 
 dates, whose names gave rise to visions of the red spectre at 
 night-time. Close to them, Monsieur Gourd, dressed as cor- 
 rectly as a diplomatist, listened with supreme contempt to what 
 they were saying; he was for the powers that be, pure and 
 simple. 
 
 The service was drawing to a close, a long melancholy wail 
 which issued from the depths of the church, silenced them. 
 
 " Requiescat in pace I " 
 
 "Amen/" 
 
 Whilst the body was being lowered into the grave at the 
 Pere-Lachaise cemetery, Trublot, who had not let go of Octave's 
 arm, saw him exchange another smile with Madame Juzeur.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 225 
 
 " Ah ! yes," murmured he, " the very unhappy little woman. 
 Anything you like except that ! " 
 
 Octave started. What ! Trublot also ! The latter -made a 
 gesture of disdain : no, not he, one of his friends. And, more- 
 over, everybody who cared for that kind of thing. 
 
 "Excuse me," added he. "As the old fellow's now stowed 
 away, I will go and render Duveyrier an account of something 
 which I undertook to see after for him." 
 
 The relations were retiring, silent and doleful. Then, Tru- 
 blot detained the counsellor behind the others, to tell him that 
 he had seen Clarisse's maid; but he did not know the new ad- 
 dress, the maid having left Clarisse the day before she moved 
 out, after a battle royal. It was the last hope which had flown. 
 Duveyrier buried his face in his handkerchief and rejoined the 
 other relations. 
 
 That very evening, quarrels commenced. The family found 
 itself in the presence of a disaster. Monsieur Vabre, with that 
 sceptical carelessness which notaries occasionally display, had 
 not left any will. All the furniture was ransacked in vain, and 
 the worst was that there was not a rap of the expected six or 
 seven hundred thousand francs, neither money, title-deeds nor 
 shares ; they discovered merely seven hundred and thirty-four 
 francs in ten sou pieces, the hoard of a silly paralytic old man. 
 And undeniable traces, a note-book covered with figures, letters 
 from stockbrokers, opened the eyes of the next-of-kin, pale with 
 passion, to the old fellow's secret vice, an ungovernable passion 
 for gambling, an unskilful and desperate craving for stock-job- 
 bing, which he hid behind the innocent mania for his great 
 statistical work. All had been engulfed, the money he had 
 saved at Versailles, the rents of his house, even the sous he had 
 sneaked from his children ; and during the latter years, he had 
 gone to the point of mortgaging the house for one hundred and 
 fifty thousand francs, at three different periods. The family 
 stood thunder-stricken before the famous safe, in which it thought 
 the fortune was locked up, but which simply contained a host 
 of singular things, broken scraps picked up in the various rooms, 
 pieces of old iron, fragments of glass, ends of ribbon, jumbled 
 amidst wrecked toys stolen from young Gustave in bygone 
 days. 
 
 Then, the most violent recriminations were indulged in. 
 They called the old fellow a swindler. It was disgraceful, to 
 fritter away his money thus, like a sly person who does not care 
 a straw for anyone and who acts an infamous comedy in order to 
 
 p
 
 22G TIPING HOT ! 
 
 get people to continue to coddle him. The Duveyriers were in- 
 consolable at having boarded him for twelve years, without 
 once asking him for the eighty thousand francs of Clotilda's 
 dowry, of which they had only had ten thousand francs. It 
 was always ten thousand francs, rejoined The'ophile, who had 
 not had a sou of the fifty thousand promised him at the time 
 of his marriage. But Auguste, in his turn, complained more 
 bitterly still, reproaching his brother with having at least 
 secured the interest of the money during three months ; whilst 
 he would never have a shadow of the fifty thousand francs, in- 
 serted in his contract. And Berthe, incited by her mother, said 
 some very unpleasant things with an indignant air at having 
 entered a dishonest family. And Valerie, bemoaning the rent 
 she had so long been stupid enough to pay the old chap, for 
 fear of being disinherited, could not stomach it, regretting the 
 money as though it had been used for an immoral purpose, em- 
 ployed in supporting debauchery. 
 
 For fully a fortnight, all these stories formed an exciting 
 topic of conversation to the occupants of the house. The long 
 and short of it was that there remained nothing but the build" 
 ing, estimated to be worth three hundred thousand francs ; 
 when the mortgage had been paid off, there would be about half 
 that sum to divide between Monsieur Vabre's three children. 
 It was fifty thousand francs for each; a meagre consolation, but 
 they would have to make the most of it. Theophile and 
 Auguste had already decided what they would do with their 
 shares. It was settled that the building should be sold. Du- 
 veyrier undertook all the arrangements in his wife's name. To 
 begin with, he persuaded the two brothers not to have the sale 
 by auction before the court ; if they were all agreed, it could 
 take place at his notary's, Maitre Renaudin, a man whom he 
 could answer for. Then, he gave them the idea, on the notary's 
 advice, he said, of putting up the house at a low figure, at a 
 hundred and forty thousand francs merely: it was very cunning, 
 people would flock to the sale, the bids would mount up, and 
 they would realise even more than they expected. Theophile 
 and Auguste laughed confidently. Then, on the day of the 
 sale, after five or six bids, Maitre Renaudin abruptly knocked 
 the house down to Duveyrier, for the sum of one hundred 
 and forty-nine thousand francs. There was not even sufficient 
 to pay the mortgage. It was the final blow. 
 
 One never knew the particulars of the terrible scene which 
 was enacted that same evening at the Duveyriers'. The solemn
 
 PIPING HOT ! 227 
 
 walls of the house stifled the sounds. The'ophile most probably 
 called his brother-in-law a scoundrel : he publicly accused him 
 of having bought over the notary, by promising to get him ap- 
 pointed a justice of the peace. As for Auguste, he simply 
 talked of the assize-court, where he wished to drag Maitre Re- 
 naudin, whose rogueries were the talk of the neighbourhood. 
 But though one always ignored how it was that the relatives 
 got to the point of knocking each other about, as rumour said 
 they did, one heard the last words exchanged on the threshold, 
 words which had an unpleasant ring in the respectable severity 
 of the staircase. 
 
 "Dirty scoundrel!" shouted Auguste. "You sentence 
 people to penal servitude who have not done nearly as much ! " 
 
 Th^ophile, who came out last, held the door, whilst he almost 
 choked with rage and coughing. 
 
 " Robber ! robber ! Yes, robber ! And yon too, Clotilde, do 
 you hear ? robber ! " 
 
 He swung the door to so roughly, that all the other doors on the 
 staircase shook. Monsieur Gourd, who was listening, was quite 
 alarmed. He darted a searching glance at the different floors ; 
 but he merely caught sight of Madame Juzeur's sharp profile. 
 Arching his back, he returned on tiptoe to his room, where he 
 resumed his dignified demeanour. One could deny everything. 
 He, delighted, considered the new landlord in the right. 
 
 A few days later, there was a reconciliation between Auguste 
 and his sister. The whole house was amazed. Octave had 
 been seen to go to the Duveyriers'. The counsellor, feeling an- 
 xious, had agreed not to charge any rent for the warehouse for 
 five years, thus shutting one of the grumbler's mouths. When 
 Theophile learnt this, he went with his wife and had another 
 row this time with his brother. So he had sold himself, he had 
 gone over to the bandits ! But Madame Josser and happened 
 to be in the shop, and he was soon shut up. She plainly ad- 
 vised Valerie not to sell herself any more than her daughter 
 had sold herself. And Valerie had to beat a retreat, exclaiming : 
 
 " Then, we're the only ones who get nothing ? May the 
 devil take me if I pay my rent ! I've a lease. The convict 
 won't dare to turn us out. And as for you, my little Berth e, 
 we'll see one day what it'll cost to have you ! " 
 
 The doors banged again. The two families were sworn 
 enemies for life. Octave, who had rendered some services, was 
 present, and entered into the private affairs of the family. 
 Berthe almost fainted in his arms, whilst Auguste was ascertain-
 
 228 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 ing whether the customers had overheard anything. Even 
 Madame Josserand confided iu the young man. She, moreover, 
 continued to judge the Duveyriers very severely. 
 
 " The rent is something," said she. " But I want the fifty 
 thousand francs." 
 
 " Of course, if you paid yours," Berthe ventured to observe. 
 
 The mother did not appear to understand. 
 
 "You hear me, I want them ! No, no, he must be laughing 
 too much in his grave, that old scoundrel Vabre, I will not let 
 him boast of having taken me in. What rascals there are in 
 the world ! to promise money one does not possess ! Oh ! they 
 will pay you, my daughter, or I will dig him up again and spit 
 in his face ! "
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ONE morning that Berthe happened to be at her mother's, Adele 
 came and said with a scared look that Monsieur Saturnin was 
 there with a man. Doctor Chassagne, the director of the Asile 
 des Moulineaux, had already warned the parents several times 
 that he would be unable to keep their son, for he did not con- 
 sider him sufficiently mad. And, hearing of the signature which 
 Berthe had obtained from her brother for the three thousand 
 francs, dreading being compromised in the matter, he suddenly 
 sent him home to his family. 
 
 It created quite a scare. Madame Josserand, who was afraid 
 of being strangled, wished to argue with the man. But all she 
 could get out of him was : 
 
 " The director told me to inform you that when one is 
 sufficiently sensible to give money to one's parents, one is 
 sensible enough to live with them." 
 
 " But he is mad, sir ! he will murder us." 
 
 " Anyhow, he is not too mad to sign his name ! " answered 
 the man going off. 
 
 However, Saturnin came home very quietly, with his hands 
 in his pockets, just as though he had returned from a stroll in 
 the Tuileries gardens. He did not even allude to where he had 
 been staying. He embraced his father who was crying, and 
 likewise heartily kissed his mother and his sister Hortense, 
 whilst they both trembled tremendously. Then, when he caught 
 sight of Berthe, he was indeed delighted, and caressed her 
 with all the pretty ways of a little boy. She at once took 
 advantage of his affected and confused condition to inform him 
 of her marriage. He displayed no anger, not appearing at first 
 to understand, as though he had forgotten his former fits of 
 passion. But when she wished to return to her home down- 
 stairs, he began to howl : he did not mind whether she was 
 married or not, so long as she remained where she was, always 
 with him and close to him. Then, seeing her mother's 
 frightened looks as she ran and locked herself in anothei room,
 
 230 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 it occurred to Berthe to take Saturnin to live with her. They 
 would be able to find him something to do in the basement of 
 the warehouse, though it were only to tie up parcels. 
 
 That same evening, Auguste, in spite of his evident repug- 
 nance, acceded to Berthe's desire. They had scarcely been 
 married three months and a secret disunion was already 
 cropping up between them, it was the collision of two different 
 constitutions aiid educations, a surly, fastidious and passionless 
 husband, and a lively woman who had been reared in the hot- 
 house of false Parisian luxury, vho played fast and loose with 
 existence, so as to enjoy it all alone like a spoiled and selfish 
 child. Therefore he could not understand her need of move- 
 ment, her constant goings-out on visits, on errands and for 
 walks, her gallop through the theatres, exhibitions, and other 
 entertainments. Two and three times a week, Madame 
 Josserand would call for her daughter, and keep her until 
 dinner-time, delighted at going about in her company, and of 
 thus taking advantage of her daughter's handsome dresses 
 which she no longer paid for. 
 
 The husband's main revolts were on account of these too 
 glaring costumes, the usefulness of which he was unable to see. 
 Why dress oneself thus above one's means and position in life 1 
 What need was there to spend in such a manner the money 
 which was so necessary for his business? He generally said 
 that when one sold silks to other women, one should wear 
 woollens oneself. But then Berthe put on her mother's ferocious 
 airs, asking him if he expected her to go about naked ; and she 
 discouraged him still more by the doubtful whiteness of her 
 petticoats, by her disdain of all linen which is not displayed, 
 having stock phrases with which to shut him up always ready 
 in case he persisted in his complaints : 
 
 " I prefer to excite envy rather than pity. Money is money, 
 and when I have only had twenty sous, I have always pre- 
 tended I had forty." 
 
 As a result of matrimony, Berthe was gradually acquiring 
 her mother's build. She was growing fatter, and resembled her 
 more than she had ever done before. She was no longer the 
 girl who did not seem to care about anything and who quietly 
 submitted to the maternal cuffs ; she had grown into a woman, 
 who was rapidly becoming more obstinate every day, and who 
 had formed the intention of making everything bow to her 
 pleasure. Auguste looked at her at times, astounded at such a 
 sudden change. At first, she had felt a vain joy in throning
 
 PIPING HOT ! 231 
 
 herself at the cashier's desk, in a studied costume of elegant 
 simplicity. Then, she had soon wearied of trade, suffering 
 from constant want of exercise, threatening to fall ill, yet re- 
 signing herself to it all the same, but with the attitude of a 
 victim who sacrifices her life to the prosperity of her home. 
 And, from that moment, a struggle at every hour of the day 
 had commenced between her and her husband. She shrugged 
 her shoulders behind his back, the same as her mother did be- 
 hind her father's ; she went again through all the family 
 quarrels which had disturbed her youth, treating her husband 
 as the gentleman who had simply got to pay, overwhelming 
 him with that contempt for the male sex, which was, so to say, 
 the basis of her education. 
 
 " Ah ! mamma was right ! " she would exclaim after each of 
 their quarrels. 
 
 Yet, in the early days, Auguste had tried to please her. He 
 liked peace, he longed for a quiet little home, he already had 
 his whims like an old man, and had got thoroughly into the 
 habits of his chaste and economical bachelor life. His old 
 lodging on the " entresol " no longer sufficing, he had taken the 
 suite of apartments on the second floor, overlooking the court- 
 yard, and thought himself sufficiently insane in spending five 
 thousand francs on furniture. Berthe, at first delighted with 
 her room upholstered in thuja and blue silk, had shown the 
 greatest contempt for it, after visiting a friend who had just 
 married a banker. Then quarrels arose with respect to the 
 servants. The young woman, used to the waiting of poor semi- 
 idiotic girls, who had their bread even cut for them, insisted ou 
 their doing things which set them crying in their kitchens for 
 afternoons together. Auguste, not particularly tender-hearted 
 as a rule, having imprudently gone and consoled one, had to 
 turn her out of the place an hour later on account of madame's 
 tears, and her request that he should choose between her and 
 that creature. Afterwards, a wench had come who appeared to 
 have made up her mind to stop. Her name was Rachel, and 
 she was probably a Jewess, but she denied it, and let no one 
 know whence she had sprung. She was about twenty-five years 
 old, with harsh features, a large nose, and very black hair. At 
 first, Berthe declared that she would not allow her to stop two 
 days ; then, in presence of her dumb obedience, her air of 
 understanding and saying nothing, she had little by little allowed 
 herself to be satisfied, as though she had yielded in her turn, 
 and was keeping her for her good qualities, aud also through an
 
 232 PIPING HOT I 
 
 unavowed fear. Rachel, who submitted without a murmur to 
 the hardest tasks, accompanied by dry bread, took possession of 
 the establishment, with her eyes open and her mouth shut, like 
 a servant of foresight biding the fatal and foreseen hour when 
 her mistress would be able to refuse her nothing. 
 
 Meanwhile, from the ground floor of the house to the ser- 
 vants' storey, a great calm had succeeded to the emotions caused 
 by Monsieur Vabre's sudden death. The staircase had again 
 become as peaceful as a church ; not a breath issued 
 from behind the mahogany doors, which were for ever closed 
 upon the profound respectability of the various homes. There 
 was a rumour that Duveyrier had become reconciled with his 
 wife. As for Valerie and Theophile, they spoke to no one, but 
 passed by stiff and dignified. Never before had the house ex- 
 haled a more strict severity of principles. Monsieur Gourd, in 
 his cap and slippers, wandered about it with the air of a solemn 
 beadle. 
 
 One evening, towards eleven o'clock, Auguste continued going 
 to the door of the warehouse, stretching his head out, and glanc- 
 ing up and down the street. An impatience which had increased 
 little by little was agitating him. Berthe, whom her mother 
 and sister had fetched away during dinner, without even giving 
 her time to finish her dessert, had not returned home after an 
 absence of more than three hours, and in spite of her distinct 
 promise to be back by closing time. 
 
 " Ah ! good heavens ! good heavens ! " he ended by saying, 
 clasping his hands together, and making his fingers crack. 
 
 And he stood still before Octave, who was ticketing some 
 remnants of silk on a counter. At that late hour of the even- 
 ing, no customer ever appeared in that out-of-the-way end of the 
 Rue de Choiseul. The shop was merely kept open to put things 
 straight. 
 
 " Surely you know where the ladies have gone ? " inquired 
 Auguste of the young man. 
 
 The latter raised his eyes with an innocent and surprised air. 
 
 " But, sir, they told you. To a lecture." 
 
 " A lecture, a lecture," grumbled the husband. " Their lec- 
 ture was over at ten o'clock. Respectable women should be 
 home at this hour ! " 
 
 Then he resumed his walk, casting side glances at his assist- 
 ant, whom he suspected of being an accomplice of the ladies, or 
 at least of excusing them. Octave, also feeling anxious, slyly 
 observed him. He had nsver before seen him so nervously ex-
 
 PIPING HOT ! 238 
 
 cited. What was it all about 1 And, as he turned his head, he 
 caught sight of Saturnin at the other end of the shop cleaning 
 a looking-glas with a sponge dipped in spirit. Little by little, 
 the family set the madman to do house-work, so that he might 
 at least earn his food. But that evening Saturnin's eyes 
 sparkled strangely. He crept behind Octave, and said in a very 
 low voice : 
 
 " Beware of him. He has found a paper. Yes, he has a 
 paper in his pocket. Look out, if it's anything of yours ! " 
 
 And he quickly resumed rubbing his glass. Octave did not 
 understand. For some time past the madman had been dis- 
 playing a singular affection for him, like the caress of an animal 
 yielding to an instinct. Why did he speak to him of a paper 1 
 He had written no letter to Berthe, as yet he only ventured to 
 look at her with tender glances, watching for an opportunity of 
 making her some trifling present. It was a tactic he had adopted 
 after deep reflection. 
 
 " Ten minutes past eleven ! damnation ! damnation ! " sud- 
 denly exclaimed Auguste, who never swore. 
 
 But at that very moment the ladies returned. Berthe had on 
 a delicious dress of pink silk, embroidered over with white jet ; 
 whilst her sister, always in blue, and her mother, always in 
 mauve, still wore their glaring and laboriously obtained cos- 
 tumes, altered every season. Madame Josserand, broad and 
 imposing, entered first, so as at once to nip in the bud the re- 
 proaches which all three had just foreseen, at a council held at 
 the end of the street, her son-in-law would begin to make. She 
 even deigned to explain that they were late through having 
 loitered before the shop-windows. But Auguste, who .was very 
 pale, did not utter a single complaint ; he answered curtly ; 
 it was evident he was keeping it in and waiting. For a 
 moment longer, the mother, who felt the coming storm through 
 her great knowledge of domestic broils, tried to intimidate him ; 
 then she was obliged to go upstairs, merely adding : 
 
 " Good night, my child. And sleep well, you know, if you 
 wish to live long." 
 
 Directly she had gone, Auguste, losing all patience, forgetting 
 that Octave and Saturnin were present, withdrew a crumpled 
 paper from his pocket, and thrust it under Berthe's nose, whilst 
 he stammered out : 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 Berthe had not even had time to take her bonnet off. She 
 turned very red.
 
 234 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 "That ? " said she, " why, it's a biU ! " 
 
 "Yes, a bill ! and for false hair, too ! Is it possible? for 
 hair ! as though you had none left on your head ! But that's 
 not all. You've paid the bill ; tell me, what did you pay it 
 with ? " 
 
 The young woman, becoming more and more confused,"ended 
 by replying : 
 
 " With my own money, of course ! " 
 
 " Your money ! but you haven't any. Some one must have 
 given you some, or else you have taken it from here. And, 
 listen ! I know all : you're in debt. I will tolerate what you 
 like ; but no debts, understand me, no debts ! never ! " 
 
 And he put into these words all the horror of a prudent fellow, 
 all his commercial integrity, which consisted in never owing any- 
 thing. For a long while he relieved his pent-up feelings, re- 
 proaching his wife with her constant goings-out, her visits all 
 over Paris, her dresses, her luxury, which he could not provide 
 for. Was it sensible for people in their position to stop out 
 till eleven o'clock at night, with pink silk dresses embroidered 
 with white jet ? When one had such tastes as those, one should 
 bring five hundred thousand francs as a marriage portion. 
 Moreover, he knew who was the guilty one ; it was the silly 
 mother who brought up her daughters to squander fortunes, 
 without even being able to give them so much as a chemise on 
 their wedding-day. 
 
 " Don't say a word against mamma ! " cried Berthe, raising 
 her head and thoroughly exasperated at last. " No one can re- 
 proach her with anything ; she has done her duty. And your 
 family, it's a nice one ! People who killed their father ! " 
 
 Octave had buried himself in his tickets, and pretended not 
 to hear. But he followed the quarrel from out of the corner of 
 his eye, and especially watched Saturnin, who was all in a 
 tremble, and had left off rubbing the glass, his fists clenched, 
 his eyes glaring, ready to spring at the husband's throat. 
 
 " Let us leave our families alone," resumed the latter. " We 
 have quite enough with our own home. Listen ! you must 
 alter your ways, for I will not give another sou for all this tom- 
 foolery. Oh ! I have quite made up my mind. Your place is 
 here at the till, in a quiet dress, like a woman who has some 
 respect for herself. And if you incur any more debts, we'll see." 
 
 Berthe was almost stifling, in presence of that brutal hus- 
 band's foot set down upon her habits, her pleasures, and her 
 dresses. It was the extinction of all she loved, of all she had
 
 PIPING HOT! 236 
 
 dreamed of when marrying. But, with a woman's tactics, she 
 hid the wound from which her heart was bleeding ; she gave a 
 pretext to the passion which was swelling her face, and re- 
 peated more violently than ever : 
 
 " I will not permit you to insult mamma ! " 
 
 Auguste shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Your mother ! Listen ! you're like her, you're quite ugly, 
 when you put yourself in that state. Yes, I scarcely know 
 you ; it is she herself. On my word, it quite frightens me ! " 
 
 At this, Berthe calmed down, and, looking him full in the 
 face, exclaimed : 
 
 " Only go and tell mamma what you were saying just now, 
 and see how quickly she'll show you the door." 
 
 " Ah ! she'll show me the door ! " yelled the husband, in a 
 fury. " Well, then ! I'll go up and tell her at once." 
 
 And he did indeed move towards the door. It was time he 
 went, for Saturnin, with his wolf-like eyes, was treacherously 
 advancing to strangle him from behind. The young woman 
 had dropped into a chair, where she was murmuring in a low 
 voice : 
 
 " Ah ! good heavens ! I'd take care not to marry him, if I 
 had my choice over again ! " 
 
 Upstairs, Monsieur Josserand, greatly surprised, answered 
 the door, Adele having just gone up to bed. As he was then 
 preparing to pass the night in addressing wrappers, in spite of 
 the ill-health he had lately been complaining of, it was with a 
 certain embarrassment, a shame at being found out, that he 
 ushered his son-in-law into the dining-room ; and he spoke of 
 some pressing work, a copy of the last inventory of the Saint- 
 Joseph glass factory. But, when Auguste deliberately accused 
 his (laughter, reproaching her with running into debt, relating 
 all the quarrel brought about by the matter of the false hair, 
 the poor old man's hands were seized with a nervous trembling. 
 Struck to the heart, he could only manage to stammer out a 
 few words, whilst his eyes filled with tears. His daughter in 
 debt, living as he had lived himself, in the midst of constant 
 Taatrimonial squabbles ! All the uuhappiness of his life was 
 then going to be gone through again in the person of his 
 daughter ! And another fear almost froze him on his chair : he 
 dreaded every minute to hear his son-in-law broach the money 
 question, demand the dowry, and call him a thief. No doubt 
 the young man knew everything, as he burst in upon them at 
 past eleven o'clock at night-
 
 236 PIPING HOT! 
 
 "My wife is going to bed," stammered he, his head in a 
 whirl. " It is useless to disturb her, is it not ? I am really 
 amazed at the things you have told me ! Poor Berthe is not 
 wicked though, I assure you. Be indulgent. I will speak to 
 her. As for ourselves, my dear Auguste, we have done nothing, 
 I think, which can displease you." 
 
 And he sounded him, so to speak, with his glance, already 
 reassured, as he saw that he could know nothing as yet, when 
 Madame Josserand appeared on the threshold of the bed- 
 room. She was in her night-gown, all white and terrible. 
 Auguste, though greatly excited, drew back. No doubt she 
 had been listening at the door, for she commenced with a direct 
 thrust. 
 
 " It's not your ten thousand francs you've come for, I 
 suppose ? There are still two months before the time they 
 become due. And in two months time we will pay them to 
 you, sir. We don't die to get out of our engagements." 
 
 This superb assurance completely overwhelmed Monsieur 
 Josserand. However, Madame Josserand continued dumb- 
 founding her son-in-law by the most extraordinary declarations, 
 without allowing him time to speak. 
 
 " You're by no means smart, sir. When you've made Berthe 
 ill, you'll have to call in the doctor, and that will occasion some 
 expense at the chemist's, and it will still be you who'll have to 
 pay. A little while ago, I went off, when I saw that you were 
 bent on making a fool of yourself. Do as you like ! Beat 
 your wife, my maternal heart is easy, for God is watching, and 
 retribution is never long in coming ! " 
 
 At length, Auguste was able to state his grievances. He re- 
 turned to the constant goicgs-out, the dresses, and was even so 
 bold as to condemn the way in which Berthe had been brought 
 up. Madame Josserand listened to him with an air of supreme 
 contempt. Then when he had finished, she retorted : 
 
 " What you say is so absurd that it does not deserve an 
 answer, my dear fellow ! I've my conscience, and that suffices 
 me. A man to whom I confided an angel ! I'll have nothing 
 more to do with the matter, as I'm insulted. Settle it between 
 yourselves." 
 
 " But your daughter will end by deceiving me, madame ! " 
 exclaimed Auguste, again overcome with passion. 
 
 Madame Josserand, who was going off, turned round, and 
 looked him full in the face. 
 
 "You're doing all you can to bring such a thing about, sir."
 
 PIPING HOT ! 237 
 
 And she retired into her room, with the dignity of a colossal 
 triple-breasted Ceres draped in white. 
 
 The father kept Auguste a few minutes longer. He was con- 
 ciliatory, giving him to understand that with women it was 
 best to put up with everything, and finally sent him off calmed, 
 and resolved to forgive. But when the poor old man found 
 himself alone again in the dining-room, seated in front of his 
 little lamp, he burst into tears. It was all over ; there was no 
 longer any happiness ; he would never have time enough of a 
 night to address sufficient wrappers to enable him to assist his 
 daughter clandestinely. The thought that his child might run 
 into debt crushed him like some personal fault. And he felt ill j 
 he had just received another blow ; strength would fail him one 
 of those nights. At length, restraining his tears, he painfully 
 recommenced his work. 
 
 Downstairs in the shop, her face buried in her hands, Berthe 
 had remained for a while immovable. After putting up the 
 shutters, the porter had returned to the basement. Then 
 Octave thought he might approach the young woman. Ever 
 since the husband's departure, Saturnin had been making 
 signs to him over his sister's head, as though inviting him to 
 console her. Now, he was beaming and multiplied his winks ; 
 fearing that he was not understood, he emphasised his advice 
 by blowing kisses into space, with a child's overflowing effusion. 
 
 " What ! you want me to kiss her?" asked Octave by signs. 
 
 " Yes, yes," replied the madman, with an enthusiastic nod of 
 the head. 
 
 And, when he beheld the young man smiling before his sister, 
 who had noticed nothing, he seated himself on the floor, behind 
 a counter, hiding, so as not to be in their way. In the pro- 
 found silence of the closed warehouse the gas-jets were still 
 burning with tall flames. There reigned a death-like peaceful- 
 ness, a closeness of atmosphere mingled with the unsavoury 
 odour of the dressed silk. 
 
 " Do not take it so much to heart, madame, I beg of you," 
 said Octave, in his caressing tones. 
 
 She started at finding him so close to her. 
 
 " Excuse me, Monsieur Octave. It is not my fault that you 
 assisted at this painful scene. And I must ask you to excuse 
 my husband, for he could not have been very well this evening. 
 You know that hi all families there are little unpleasant- 
 nesses " 
 
 Sobs choked her utterance. The mere idea of extenuating
 
 238 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 her husband's faults before the world had brought on a copious 
 flood of tears, which quite unnerved her. Saturnin raised his 
 anxious face on a level with the counter ; but he dived down 
 again directly he saw Octave take hold of his sister's hand. 
 
 " I beg of you, madame, summon up a little courage," said 
 the assistant. 
 
 " No, I cannot help it," stammered she. " You were there 
 you heard everything. For ninety-five francs' worth of hair ! 
 As though all women did nor wear false hair now ! But he 
 knows nothing he understands nothing. He knows no more 
 about women than the Grand Turk ; he has never had anything 
 to do with them, no never, Monsieur Octave ! Ah ! I am very 
 miserable 1" 
 
 She said all this in her feverish spite. A man whom she pre- 
 tended she had married for love, and who would soon allow her 
 to go without a chemise ! Did she not fulfil her duties 1 Had 
 he the least negligence to reproach her with ? If he had not 
 flown into a passion on the day when she asked him for some 
 hair, she would never have been reduced to the necessity of 
 paying for it out of her own pocket ! And for the least thing 
 there was the same story over again ; she could never express 
 a wish, desire the most insignificant article of dress, without 
 coming into contact with his ferocious sullenness. She natur- 
 ally had her pride, so she no longer asked for anything, pre- 
 ferring to go without necessaries rather than humiliate herself 
 to 110 purpose. Thus, for a fortnight past, she had been 
 ardently longing for a fancy set of ornaments which she had seen 
 with her mother in a jeweller's window in the Palais-Eoyal. 
 
 " You know, three stars in paste for the hair. Oh ! a mere 
 trifle a hundred francs, I think. Well ! although I spoke of 
 them from morning till night, don't imagine that my husband 
 understood !' 
 
 Octave would never have dared to hope for such an oppor- 
 tunity. He hastened matters. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know. You mentioned the subject several times 
 in my presence. And, dear me ! madame, your parents received 
 me so well ; you yourself have welcomed me so kindly, that I 
 thought I might venture " 
 
 As he spoke he withdrew from his pocket an oblong box, in 
 which the three stars were sparkling on some cotton wool 
 Berthe had risen from her seat, deeply affected. 
 
 " But it is impossible, sir. I will not you were very wrong 
 indeed."
 
 PIPING HOT ! 239 
 
 He pretended to be very simple, inventing various pretexts. 
 In the South such things were done constantly. And, besides, 
 the ornaments were of no value whatever. She had turned 
 quite rosy, and was no longer weeping, whilst her eyes, fixed on 
 the box, acquired a fresh lustre from the sparkling of the 
 imitation gems. 
 
 " I beg of you, madame. Just to show me that you are 
 satisfied with my work." 
 
 " No really, Monsieur Octave ; do not insist. You pain me." 
 
 Saturnin had reappeared, and he looked at the jewels in 
 ecstasy, as though he were beholding some reliquary. But his 
 sharp ear heard Auguste's returning footsteps. He warned 
 Berthe by making a slight noise with his tongue. Then the 
 latter came to a decision just as her husband was about 
 to enter. 
 
 "Well ! listen," murmured she rapidly, popping the box 
 into her pocket, " I'll say that my sister Hortense made me a 
 present of them." 
 
 Auguste gave orders for the gas to be turned out, and then 
 went up with her to bed, without saying a word about the 
 quarrel, delighted at heart at finding her all right again and 
 very lively, as though nothing had taken place between them. 
 The warehouse became wrapped in intense darkness ; and, just 
 as Octave was also retiring, he felt hot hands squeezing his 
 own almost sufficient to crush them in the obscurity. It was 
 Saturnin, who slept in the basement. 
 
 " Friend friend friend," repeated the madman, with an 
 outburst of wild tenderness. 
 
 Disconcerted in his expectations, Octave little by little be- 
 came seized with a young and passionate desire for Berthe. If 
 he had at first been merely following his old plan of seduction, 
 his wish to succeed by the aid of women, he now no longer 
 beheld in her the employer simply whose possession would place 
 the whole establishment in his hands ; he desired above all the 
 Parisian, that adorable creature of luxury and grace, which he 
 had never had an opportunity of tasting at Marseilles ; he felt 
 a sudden hunger for her little gloved hands, her tiny feet encased 
 in high -heeled boots, her delicate neck hidden by gewgaws, even 
 for the questionable unseen, the make-shifts which he suspected 
 were covered by her gorgeous costumes ; and this sudden attack 
 of passion went so far as to get the better of his shrewd econo- 
 mical nature, to the extent of causing him to squander in 
 presents and all sorts of other expenses the five thousand francs
 
 240 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 which he had brought with him from the South, and had al- 
 ready doubled by financial operations which he never mentioned 
 to anybody. 
 
 But what mainly put him out was that he had become timid 
 at the same time that he had fallen in love. He no longer 
 possessed his former determination, his hurry to reach the goal, 
 enjoying, on the contrary, a lazy delight in hastening nothing. 
 Moreover, in this passing weakness of his usually so practical 
 mind, he ended by considering Berthe's conquest to be a cam- 
 paign of extreme difficulty, which required delays and the 
 caution of high diplomacy. No doubt his two failures with 
 Valerie and Madame He"douin filled him with the dread of being 
 once more foiled. But, besides this, there lurked beneath his 
 hesitating uneasiness a fear of the adored one, an absolute 
 belief in Berthe's virtue, all that blindness of love paralysed by 
 desire, and which causes one to despond. 
 
 On the morrow of the quarrel, Octave, delighted at having 
 prevailed on the young woman to accept his present, thought that 
 it would be well for him to ingratiate himself with the husband. 
 Therefore, as he took his meals at his employer's table the 
 latter being in the habit of feeding his assistants, so as always 
 to have them at hand he showed him the utmost attention, 
 listened to him at dessert and warmly approved all he said. 
 He even went so far in private as to appear to sympathize with 
 his complaints against his wife, pretending, too, to watch her, 
 and making him little reports. Auguste felt greatly touched ; 
 he admitted one night to the young man that he had been on 
 the point of discharging him, undor the idea that he was con- 
 niving with his mother-in-law. Octave, turning icy cold, at 
 once expressed the utmost horror of Madame Josserand, which 
 had the effect of binding them together in a complete com- 
 munion of opinions. Moreover, the husband was a decent 
 fellow at heart, simply disagreeable, but willingly resigned, so 
 long as no one upset him by spending his money or interfering 
 with his moral code. He even swore that he would never again 
 fly into a passion, for after the quarrel he had had an abomin- 
 able headache, which had driven him crazy for three days. 
 
 " You understand me, you do ! " he would say to the young 
 man. " I merely want peace. Beyond that I don't care a 
 hang, virtue excepted of course, and providing my wife doesn't 
 carry off the cash-box. Eh 1 am I not reasonable ? I don t ask 
 her for anything extraordinary 1 " 
 
 And Octave landed his wisdom, and they celebrated together
 
 PIPING HOT ! 241 
 
 the sweetness of an uneventful existence, year after year always 
 the rame, passed in measuring off silk. One evening, he had 
 alarmed Auguste, by reverting to his dream of vast modern 
 bazaars, and by advising him, as he had advised Madame 
 Hedouin, to purchase the adjoining house, so as to enlarge his 
 premises. Auguste, whose head was already splitting be- 
 tween his four counters, had looked at him with the frightened 
 air of a tradesman accustomed to dividing farthings into 
 four, that he had hastened to withdraw his suggestion 
 and to go iuto raptures over the honest security of small 
 dealings. 
 
 Days passed by, Octave was making his little nest in the 
 place, a cosy nest lined with wool which would keep him nice 
 and warm. The husband esteemed him, Madame Josserand 
 herself, with whom however he avoided being too polite, looked 
 at him encouragingly. As for Berthe, she was becoming charm- 
 ingly familiar with him. But his great friend was Saturnin, 
 whose dumb affection he felt was increasing daily, a faithful dog's 
 devotion which grew as his longing for the young woman be- 
 came more intense. Towards every one else the madman dis- 
 played a gloomy jealousy ; a man could not approach his sister, 
 without his becoming at once uneasy, curling up his lips, and 
 preparing to bite. But if, on the contrary, Octave leant 
 freely towards her, and caused her to laugh with the soft and 
 tender laughter of a happy mistress, he laughed himself with 
 delight, and his face reflected a little of their sensual joy. The 
 poor creature seemed to feel a gratitude full of happiness for 
 the chosen lover. He would detain the latter in all the cor- 
 ners, casting mistrustful glances about, then if he found they 
 were alone, he would speak to him of her, always repeating the 
 same stories in broken phrases. 
 
 " When she was little, she had tiny limbs as large as that ; 
 and already plump, and quite rosy, and so gay Then, she used 
 to sprawl about on the floor. It amused me, I would go down 
 oa my knees and watch her Then, bang ! bang ! bang ! she 
 would kick me in the stomach And I used to be so pleased, 
 oh ! so pleased ! " 
 
 Octave thus learnt all about Berthe's childhood, with its little 
 ailments, its playthings, its growth of a charming uncontrolled 
 little creature. Saturnin's empty brain treasured up unimpor- 
 tant matters, which he alone remembered : the day when she 
 had pricked herself and he had sucked the blood ; one morning 
 when she had fallen into his arms on trying to get on to the 
 
 Q
 
 242 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 table. But he invariably returned to the great event, the young 
 girl's serious illness. 
 
 " Ah ! if you had only seen her ! At night-time, I was alone 
 beside her. They used to beat me to make me go to bed. And 
 I would creep back, with nothing on my feet. All alone. It 
 made me cry, she was so white. I used to touch her to see if 
 she was turning cold. Then, they left me there. I nursed her 
 better than they, I knew all about the medicines, she took 
 whatever I gave her. At times, when she complained a great 
 deal, I laid her head on my breast. We were so nice together. 
 Then, she got well, and I wished to return, and they beat me 
 again." 
 
 His eyes lighted up, he laughed and cried, just as though 
 these events had occurred the day before. From his broken 
 sentences the history of this strange affection could be spun to- 
 gether : his poor half-witted devotion at the little patient's bed- 
 side, when she had been given up by the doctors^ his heart and 
 body devoted to the dying darling, whom he nursed in her 
 nudity with all the tenderness of a mother ; his affection and 
 his desires had been arrested there, checked for evermore by 
 this drama of suffering, from the shock of which he never re- 
 covered ; and, from that time, in spite of the ingratitude which, 
 followed the recovery, Berthe remained everything to him, a 
 mistress before whom he trembled, a child and a sister whom 
 he had saved from death, an idol which he worshipped with a 
 jealous adoration. So that he pursued the husband with the 
 furious hatred of a displeased lover, never at a loss for ill-natured 
 remarks as he opened his heart to Octave. 
 
 "He's got his eye bunged up again. His headache's becoming 
 a nuisance ! You heard him dragging his feet about yesterday 
 Look, there he is squinting into the street. Eh ? isn't he a 
 fool 1 Dirty beast, dirty beast ! " 
 
 And Auguste could scarcely move without angering the mad- 
 man. Then would cme the disquieting proposals. 
 
 " If you like, we'll bleed him like a pig between us." 
 
 Octave would calm him. Then, on his quiet days, Saturnin 
 would go from Octave to the young woman, with an air of de- 
 light, repeating what one had said about the other, doing their 
 errands, and acting like a continual bond of tenderness between 
 them. He would have thrown himself on the floor at their feet, 
 to serve them as a carpet. 
 
 Berthe had not again alluded to the present. She did not 
 seem to notice Octave's trembling attentions, but treated him
 
 PIPING HOT ! 243 
 
 as a friend, without the least confusion. He had never before 
 been so careful in his dress, and he was ever caressing her with 
 his eyes of the colour of old gold, and whose velvety softness he 
 deemed irresistible. But she was only grateful to him for his 
 lies, on the occasions when he helped her to hide some freak. 
 A complicity was thus established between them : he favoured 
 the young woman's goings-out with her mother, putting the 
 husband off the scent, at the least suspicion. She even ended 
 by giving a free vent to her mania for excursions and visits, re- 
 lying entirely upon his intelligence. And if, on her return, 
 she found him behind a pile of wares, she thanked him with a 
 good friendly shake of the hand. 
 
 One day, however, she experienced a great emotion. On re- 
 turning from a dog-show, Octave beckoned to her to descend to the 
 basement ; and there handed her a bill, amounting to sixty-two 
 francs, for some embroidered stockings which had been brought 
 during her absence. She turned quite pale, and in a cry that 
 name from her heart at once asked : 
 
 " Good heavens 1 has my husband seen this ? " 
 
 He hastened to set her mind at rest, telling her what trouble 
 he had had to get hold of the bill under Auguste's very nose. 
 Then in an embarrassed way, he was obliged to add in a low 
 voice : 
 
 "I paid it." 
 
 Then she made a show of feeling in her pockets, and, finding 
 nothing, said simply : 
 
 " I will pay you back. Ah ! what thanks I owe you, Monsieur 
 Octave ! It would have killed me, if Auguste had seen this." 
 
 And, this time, she took hold of both his hands, and for a 
 moment held them pressed between her own. But the sixty- 
 two francs were never again mentioned. 
 
 With her it was an increasing appetite for liberty and plea- 
 sure, all that in her girlhood she had looked for after marriage, 
 all that her mother had taught her to exact from man. She 
 brought with her so to say an old unappeased appetite, she 
 avenged herself for the needy youth passed at her parents', for 
 the inferior meat cooked without butter in order to be able to 
 buy boots, for the laboriously acquired dresses remade up at 
 least twenty times, for the lie of their position in life kept up 
 at the price of black misery and filth. But she especially made 
 up for the three winters she had spent in floundering through 
 the Paris mud in dancing shoes, seeking for a husband ; even- 
 Ings dead with weariness, during which she gorged herself with
 
 244 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 syrup on a empty stomach ; burdensome with smiles and modest 
 graces directed towards silly young men ; and filled with secret 
 exasperations at being obliged to pretend to ignore everything, 
 when she knew all. Then, there were the returns home in the 
 pouring rain and without a cab ; next, the chill of her icy cold 
 bed and the maternal cuffs which kept her cheeks warm. At 
 twenty-two years old, she was still despairing, and had become 
 as humble as a cripple, looking at herself in her chemise at 
 night-time, to see if she was deficient of anything. And now 
 she had secured a husband at last, and like the sportsman who 
 finishes off the hare which he has lost his breath in chasing with 
 a brutal blow of his fist, she showed herself without mercy for 
 Auguste, and treated him like a fallen foe. 
 
 Thus, little by little, the breach between the couple widened, 
 in spite of the husband's efforts, he being desirous of having no 
 disturbance in his existence. He desperately defended his desire 
 for a somnolent and idiotic peacefulness, he closed his eyes to 
 small faults, and even stomached some big ones, with the con- 
 stant dread of discovering something abominable which would 
 drive him into a furious passion. He, therefore, tolerated 
 Berthe's lies, by which she attributed to her sister's or her 
 mother's affection a host of little things, the purchase of which 
 she could not have otherwise explained ; he even no longer 
 grumbled overmuch when she went out of an evening, thus 
 enabling Octave to take her twice privately to the theatre, 
 accompanied by Madame Josserand and Hortense; delightful 
 outings, after which these ladies agreed together that the young 
 man knew how to live. 
 
 Up till then, moreover, at the least word, Berthe threw her 
 virtue in her husband's teeth. She lived respectably, he ought to 
 deem himself lucky ; for, to her mind, as to her mother's, a hus- 
 band only had a legitimate right to complain when he caught his 
 wife in the flagrant act of seriously misbehaving herself. This 
 chaste behaviour, which was genuine during the earlier days 
 when she was gluttonously satisfying her appetites, was not, how- 
 ever, much of a sacrifice to her. She was cold by nature, and sel- 
 fishly rebellious to all the worries of passion ; preferring to take 
 her pleasures alone and utterly devoid of virtue. The court 
 that Octave paid her simply flattered her, after the repulses 
 she had experienced when a girl seeking for a husband, believ 
 ing herself to be abandoned by men ; and she profited from it in 
 many ways, of which she serenely took advantage, having grown 
 up with a mad longing for money. One day, she had allowed
 
 PIPING HOT ! 245 
 
 the assistant to pay five hours' cab hire for her ; another day, 
 when on the point of going out, she had made him lend her 
 thirty francs, behind her husband's back, pretending she had 
 forgotten her purse. She never repaid anything. The young 
 man was of no consequence, she had no design upon him, she 
 merely made use of him, always without thinking, just as her 
 pleasure or circumstances required. And, meanwhile, she gloried 
 in her martyrdom of an ill-used woman, who strictly fulfilled all 
 her duties. 
 
 It was on a Saturday that a frightful quarrel occurred between 
 the husband and wife, with respect to twenty sous which were 
 deficient in Rachel's accounts. While Berthe was balancing 
 up the book, Auguste brought, according to his custom, the 
 money necessary for the household expenses of the ensuing 
 week. The Josserands were to dine there that evening, and the 
 kitchen was littered with things: a rabbit, a leg of mutton, and 
 some cauliflowers. Saturnin, squatting on the tiled floor beside 
 the sink, was blacking his sister's shoes and his brother-in-law's 
 boots. The quarrel began with long arguments respecting the 
 twenty sou piece. What had become of it ? How could one 
 mislay twenty sous ? Auguste would go over all the additions 
 again. During this time, Rachel, always pliant in spite of her 
 harsh looks, her mouth closed but her eyes on the watch, was 
 quietly spitting the leg of mutton. At length, he gave fifty 
 francs, and was on the point of going downstairs again when he 
 returned, worried by the thought of the missing coin. 
 
 " It must be found though," said he. " Perhaps you bor- 
 rowed it of Rachel, and have forgotten doing so." 
 
 Berthe felt greatly hurt at this. 
 
 " Accuse me of cooking the accounts ! Ah ! you are nice ! " 
 
 Everything started from that, and they soon came to high 
 words. Auguste, in spite of his desire to purchase peace at a 
 dear price, became aggressive, excited by the sight of the rabbit, 
 the leg of mutton and the cauliflowers, beside himself before 
 that pile of food, which she was going to thrust all at once 
 under her parents' noses. He looked through the account-book 
 expressing astonishment at almost every item. It was incredi- 
 ble! she must be in league with the servant to make something 
 on the marketing. 
 
 " I ! 1 1 " exclaimed the young woman thoroughly exasper- 
 ated ; " I in league with the servant ! But it's you, sir, who 
 pay her to spy upon me ! Yes, I am for ever feeling her about 
 me, I can't move a step without encountering her eyes. Ah !
 
 246 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 she may watch me through the key-hole, when I'm changing 
 my underlinen. I do no harm, and I don't care a straw for 
 your system of police. Only, don't you dare to reproach me 
 with being in league with her." 
 
 This unexpected attack quite dumbfounded the husband for 
 a moment. Rachel turned round still holding the leg of 
 mutton; and, placing her hand upon her heart, she protested. 
 
 " Oh ! madame, how can you think so ? I who respect 
 madame so much ! " 
 
 "She's mad!" said Auguste shrugging his shoulders. "Don't 
 take the trouble to defend yourself, my girl She's mad ! " 
 
 But a noise behind his back caused him some anxiety. It 
 was Saturnin who had violently thrown down one of the half 
 polished shoes to fly to his sister's assistance. With a terrible 
 expression in his face and his fists clenched, he stuttered out 
 that he would strangle the dirty rascal, if he again called her 
 mad. Thoroughly frightened, Auguste sought refuge behind 
 the filter, calling out : 
 
 " It's really become unbearable ; I can no longer make a re- 
 mark to you without his thrusting himself in between us ! I 
 allowed him to come here, but he must leave me alone ! He's 
 another nice present of your mother's ! She was frightened to 
 death of him, and so she saddled him on me, preferring to see 
 me murdered in her stead. Thanks for nothing ! He's got a 
 knife now. Do make him desist ! " 
 
 Berthe disarmed her brother and calmed him with a look, whilst 
 Auguste, who had turned very pale, continued to mumble angry 
 words. Always knives being caught up! An injury is so soon 
 done; and, with a madman, one could do nothing, justice would 
 even refuse to avenge it ! In short, it was not proper to make 
 a body-guard of such a brother, rendering a husband powerless, 
 even in circumstances of the most legitimate indignation, and 
 going as far as forcing him to submit to his shame. 
 
 "You've no tact, sir," declared Berthe disdainfully. "A 
 gentleman would not discuss such matters in a kitchen." 
 
 And she withdrew to her room, slamming the doors behind 
 her. Rachel had returned to the roaster, as though no longer 
 hearing the quarrel between her master and mistress. Through 
 an excess of discretion, like a girl who kept herself in her place 
 even when she knew everything, she did not follow madame 
 with her eyes when the latter left the room ; and she allowed 
 her master to stamp about for a full minute, without venturing 
 on the least change of features. Besides, her master hastened
 
 SATURNIN THREATENING AUGUSTE.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 247 
 
 off after her mistress almost directly. Then, Kachel, still un- 
 moved, was able to put the rabbit on the fire. 
 
 "Do understand, my dear," said Auguste to Berthe, whom 
 he had rejoined in the bedroom, " it was not in reference to you 
 that I spoke, it was for that girl who robs us. Those twenty 
 sous ought certainly to be found." 
 
 The young woman trembled nervously with exasperation. 
 She looked him full in the face, very pale and resolute. 
 
 " Will you leave off bothering me about your twenty sous ? 
 It's not twenty sous I want, it's five hundred francs a month. 
 Yes, five hundred francs for my dress. Ah! you discuss money 
 matters in the kitchen, before the servant ! Well ! that has 
 decided me to discuss them also ! I've been restraining myself 
 for a long time past. I want five hundred francs." 
 
 He stood aghast at such a demand. And she commenced 
 the grand quarrel which, during twenty years, her mother had 
 picked with her father, regularly every fortnight. Did he ex- 
 pect to see her walk about barefoot 1 When one married a 
 woman, one should at least arrange to clothe and feed her 
 decently. She would sooner beg than resign herself to such a 
 pauper existence ! It was not her fault, if he proved incapable 
 of managing his business properly ; oh ! yes, incapable, without 
 ideas or initiative, only knowing how to split farthings into 
 four. A man who ought to have made it his glory to acquire 
 a fortune quickly, so as to dress her like a queen, and make the 
 people of " The Ladies' Paradise " die with rage ! But no ! 
 with such a poor head as his, bankruptcy was sure to come 
 sooner or later. And from this flow of words emerged the 
 respect, the furious appetite for money, all that worship of 
 wealth, the adoration of which she had learnt in her own family, 
 when beholding the mean tricks to which one stoops, merely to 
 appear to possess it. 
 
 " Five hundred francs ! " said Auguste at length. " I would 
 sooner shut up the shop." 
 
 She looked at him coldly. 
 
 " You refuse. Very well, I will run up bills." 
 
 " More debts, you wretched woman ! " 
 
 In a sudden violent movement, he seized her by the arms, 
 and pushed her against the wall. Then, without a cry, choking 
 with passion, she ran and opened the window, as though to 
 throw herself out ; but she retraced her steps, and pushing him 
 in her turn towards the door, turned him out of the room 
 gnsping ;
 
 248 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 " Go away, or I shall do you an injury ! " 
 And she noisily pushed the bolt behind his back. For a 
 moment he listened and hesitated. Then, he hastened to go 
 down to the warehouse, again seized with terror, as he beheld 
 Saturnin's eyes gleaming in the shadow, the noise of the short 
 struggle having brought him from the kitchen. 
 
 Downstairs, Octave, who was selling silk handkerchiefs to an 
 old lady, at once noticed his agitated appearance. The assist- 
 ant looked at him out of the corner of his eye as he feverishly 
 paced up and down before the counters. When the customer 
 had gone, Auguste's heart quite overflowed. 
 
 " My dear fellow, she's going mad," said he, without naming 
 his wife. " She has shut herself in. You ought to oblige me 
 by going up and speaking to her. I fear an accident, on my 
 word of honour, I do ! " 
 
 The young man pretended to hesitate. It was such a delicate 
 matter ! Finally, he agreed to do so out of pure devotion. 
 Upstairs, he found Saturnin keeping guard before Berthe's door. 
 On hearing footsteps, the madman uttered a menacing grunt 
 But, when he recognised the assistant, his face brightened. 
 
 " Ah ! yes, you," murmured he. " You're all right. She 
 mustn't cry. Be nice, say something to her. And you know, 
 stop there. There's no danger. I'm here. If the servant 
 tries to peep, I'll settle her." 
 
 And he squatted down on the floor, guarding the door. As 
 he still held one of his brother-in-law's boots, he commenced to 
 polish it, to pass away the time. 
 
 Octave made up his mind to knock. No answer, not a sound. 
 Then, he gave his name. The bolt was at once drawn. And, 
 opening the door slightly, Berthe begged him to enter. Then, 
 she closed and bolted it again with a nervous hand. 
 
 " I don't mind you," said she ; " but I won't have him ! " 
 She paced the room, carried away by passion, going from the 
 bedstead to the window, which still remained open. And she 
 muttered disconnected sentences : he might entertain her parents 
 at dinner, if he liked ; yes, he could account to them for her 
 absence, for she would not appear at the table ; she would sooner 
 die ! Besides, she preferred to go to bed. With her feverish 
 hands, she already began to tear off the quilt, shake up the 
 pillows, and turn down the sheet, forgetful of Octave's presence 
 to the extent that she was about to unhook her dress. Then, 
 she jumped to another idea. 
 
 " Just fancy ! He beat me, beat me, beat me ! And only
 
 PIPING HOT ! 24fl 
 
 because, ashamed of always going about in rags, I asked him 
 for five hundred francs ! " 
 
 Octave, standing up in the middle of the room, tried to find 
 some conciliating words. She was wrong to allow it to upset 
 her so much. Everything would come right again. And he 
 ended by timidly offering her assistance. 
 
 " If you are worried about any bill, why not apply to your 
 friends ? I should be so pleased ! Oh ! simply a loan. You 
 could return it to me some other time." 
 
 She looked at him. After a pause, she replied : 
 
 " Never ! it cannot be. What would people think, Monsieur 
 Octave '{ " 
 
 Her refusal was so decided, that there was no further question 
 of money. But her anger seemed to have left her. She 
 breathed heavily, and bathed her face ; and she looked quite 
 pale, very calm, rather wearied, with large resolute eyes. 
 Standing before her, he felt himself overcome by that timidity 
 of love, which he held in such contempt. Never before had he 
 loved so ardently ; the strength of his desire communicated an 
 awkwardness to his charms of a handsome assistant. Whilst 
 continuing to advise a reconciliation in vague phrases, he was 
 reasoning clearly in his own mind, asking himself if he ought 
 not to take her in his arms ; but the fear of being again re- 
 pulsed made him hesitate. She, without uttering a word, con- 
 tinued to look at him with her decided air, her forehead con- 
 tracted by a faint wrinkle. 
 
 " Really ! " he stammeringly continued, " you must be patient. 
 Your husband is not a bad fellow. If you only go the right 
 way to work with him, he will give you whatever you ask for." 
 
 And beneath the emptiness of these words, they both felt the 
 same thought take possession of them. They were alone, free, 
 safe from all surprise, with the door bolted. This security, the 
 close warmth of the room, exercised its influence on them. 
 Yet he did not dare ; the feminine side of his nature, his 
 womanly feeling refined him in that moment of passion to the 
 point of making him the woman in their encounter. Then, as 
 though recollecting one of her former lessons, Bsrthe dropped 
 her handkerchief. 
 
 " Oh ! thank you," said she to the young man who picked it 
 up. 
 
 Their fingers touched, they were drawn closer together by 
 that momentary contact. Now, she smiled tenderly, and gave 
 an easy suppleness to her form, as she recollected that men
 
 250 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 detest sticks. It would never do to act the simpleton, one 
 must permit a little playfulness without seeming to do so, if 
 one would hook one's fish. 
 
 " Night is coming on," resumed she, going and pushing the 
 window to. 
 
 He followed her, and there, in the shadow of the curtains, 
 she allowed him to take her hand. She laughed louder, be- 
 wildering him with her ringing tones, enveloping him with her 
 pretty gestures ; and, as he at length became bolder, she threw 
 back her head, displaying her neck, her young and delicate neck 
 all quivering with her gaiety. Distracted by the sight, he 
 kissed her under the chin. 
 
 " Oh ! Monsieur Octave ! " said she in confusion, making a 
 pretence of prettily putting him back into his place. 
 
 His moment of triumph had come, but it was no sooner over 
 than all the ferocious disdain of woman, which was hidden 
 beneath his air of wheedling adoration, returned. And when 
 Berthe rose up, without strength in her wrists, and her face 
 contracted by a pang, her utter contempt for man was thrown 
 into the dark glance which she cast upon him. The room was 
 wrapped in complete silence. One only heard Saturnin, on the 
 other side of the door, polishing the husband's boot with a 
 regular movement of the brush. 
 
 Octave's thoughts reverted to Valerie and Madame Hedouin. 
 At last, he was something more than little Pichon's lover ! It 
 seemed like a rehabilitation in his own eyes. Then, encounter- 
 ing Berthe's uneasy glance, he experienced a slight sense of 
 shame, and kissed her with extreme gentleness. She was re- 
 suming her air of resolute recklessness, and with a gesture, 
 seemed to say: "What's done can't be undone." But she after- 
 wards experienced the necessity of giving expression to a melan- 
 choly thought. 
 
 " Ah ! If you had only married me ! " murmured she. 
 
 He felt surprised, almost uneasy ; but this did not prevent 
 him from replying, as he kissed her again : 
 
 " Oh ! yes, how nice it would have been ! " 
 
 That evening, the dinner with the Josserands was most de- 
 lightful, Berthe had never shown herself so gentle. She did not 
 say a word of the quarrel to her parents, she received her husband 
 with an air of submission. The latter, delighted, took Octave 
 aside to thank him ; and he imparted so much warmth into the 
 proceeding, pressing his hands and displaying such a lively 
 gratitude, that the young man felt quite embarrassed. More-
 
 PIPING HOT ! 251 
 
 over, they one and all overwhelmed him with marks of their affec- 
 tion. Saturnin, who behaved very well at table, looked at him 
 with approving eyes. Hortense on her part deigned to listen 
 to him, whilst Madame Josserand, full of maternal encourage- 
 ment, kept filling his glass. 
 
 "Dear me ! yes," said Berthe at dessert, "I intend to resume 
 my painting. For a long time past I have been wanting to 
 decorate a cup for Auguste." 
 
 The latter was deeply moved at this loving conjugal thought. 
 Ever since the soup, Octave had kept his foot on the young 
 woman's under the table ; it was like a taking of possession in 
 the midst of this little middle-class gathering. Yet, Berthe 
 was not without a secret uneasiness before Rachel, whose eyes 
 she always found looking her through and through. Was it 
 then visible ? The girl was decidedly one to be sent away or 
 else to be bought over. 
 
 Monsieur Josserand, who was near his daughter, finished 
 soothing her by passing her nineteen francs done up in paper 
 under the tablecloth. He bent down and whispered in her 
 car: 
 
 " You know, they come from my little work. If you owe 
 anything, you must pay it." 
 
 Then, between her father who nudged her knee, and her lover 
 who gently rubbed her boot, she felt quite happy. Life would 
 now be delightful. And they united in throwing aside all re- 
 serve, enjoying the pleasure of a family gathering, uumarred by 
 a single quarrel. In truth, it was hardly natural, something 
 must have brought them luck. Auguste, alone, had his eyes 
 half closed, suffering from a headache, which he had moreover 
 expected after so many emotiona Towards nine o'clock he was 
 even obliged to retire to bed.
 
 252 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 FOR some time past, Monsieur Gourd had been prowling about 
 with an uneasy and mysterious air. He was met gliding noise- 
 lessly along, his eyes open, his ears pricked up, continually as- 
 cending the two staircases, where lodgers had even encountered 
 him going his rounds in the dead of night. The morality of 
 the house was certainly worrying him ; he felt a kind of breath 
 of shameful things which troubled the cold nakedness of the 
 courtyard, the calm peacefulness of the vestibule, the beautiful 
 domestic virtues of the different storeys. 
 
 One evening, Octave had found the doorkeeper standing 
 motionless and without a light at the end of his passage, close 
 to the dcor which opened on to the servants' staircase. Greatly 
 surprised, he questioned him. 
 
 "I wish to ascertain something, Monsieur Mouret," simply 
 answered Monsieur Gourd, deciding to go off to bed. 
 
 The young man was very much frightened. Did the door- 
 keeper suspect his relations with Berthe? He was perhaps 
 watching them. Their attachment encountered continual ob- 
 stacles in that house where there was always someone prying 
 about and the inmates of which professed the most strict prin- 
 ciples. Thus he could only rarely approach his mistress, his 
 sole joy being, if she went out in the afternoon without her 
 mother, to leave the warehouse on some pretext and join her in 
 one of the more out of the way Passages, where he would stroll 
 about with her on his arm for an hour or so. Since the end of 
 July, however, Auguste had been in the habit of going every 
 Tuesday night to Lyons ; for he had been foolish enough to 
 take a share in a silk manufactory which was in difficulties. 
 But until then, Berthe had refused to profit by this night of 
 liberty. She trembled at the thought of her maid, she feared 
 that some forgetfulness on her part, might place her in the girl's 
 power. 
 
 It happened to be a Tuesday night when Octave discovered
 
 PIPING HOT ! 253 
 
 Monsieur Gourd watching close to his room. This increased 
 his uneasiness. For a week past, he had been imploring Berthe 
 to come up and join him in his apartment, when all the house 
 would be asleep. Had the doorkeeper guessed this ? Octave 
 went back to his room dissatisfied, tormented with fear and de- 
 sire. His love was chafing, becoming a mad passion, and he 
 angrily saw himself falling into all the stupidities of which the 
 heart is capable. As it was, he could never join Berthe in a 
 Passage, without buying her whatever attracted her attention 
 in a shop window. Thus, the day before in the Passage de la 
 Madeleine, she had looked so greedily at a little bonnet, that 
 he had made her a present of it : chip straw, and nothing more 
 than a garland of roses, something deliciously simple, but cost- 
 ing two hundred francs; he thought the price rather stiff. 
 
 The night was a close one, and overcome by the heat, Octave 
 had dosed off in an easy chair, when towards midnight he was 
 roused by a gentle knocking. 
 
 " It's I," faintly whispered a woman's voice. 
 
 It was Berthe. He opened the door and clasped her in his 
 arms in the obscurity. But she had not come up for that; when 
 he had lighted his candle, he saw that she was deeply troubled 
 about something. The day before, not having sufficient money 
 in his pocket, he had been unable to pay for the bonnet at the 
 time ; and as in her delight she had so far forgotten herself as to 
 give her name, they had sent her the bill that evening. Then, 
 trembling at the thought that they might call on the morrow 
 when her husband was there, she had dared to come up, gather- 
 ing courage from the great silence of the house, and confident 
 that Rachel was asleep. 
 
 " To-morrow morning, you will be sure to pay it to-morrow 
 morning, won't you ? " implored she, trying to escape. 
 
 But he again clasped her in his arms. 
 
 " Stay ! " 
 
 She remained. The clock slowly struck the hours in the 
 voluptuous warmth of the room ; and, at each sound of the 
 bell, he begged her so tenderly to stay, that her strength seemed 
 to desert her and she yielded to his entreaties. Then, towards 
 four o'clock, just as she had at length determined to go, they 
 both dropped off to sleep locked in each other's arms. When 
 they again opened their eyes, the bright daylight was entering 
 at the window, it was nine o'clock. Berthe uttered a cry. 
 
 " Good heavens ! I'm lost ! " 
 
 Then ensued a moment of confusion. With her eyes half
 
 264 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 closed with sleep and fatigue, feeling vaguely about with her 
 hands scarcely able to distinguish anything, she gave vent 
 to stifled exclamations of regret. He, seized with a similar 
 despair, had thrown himself before the door, to prevent her 
 from going out, at such an hour. Was she mad ? people might 
 meet her on the stairs, it was too risky ; they must think the 
 matter over, and devise a way for her to go down without being 
 noticed. But she was obstinate, simply wishing to get away ; 
 and she again made for the door, which he defended. Then, 
 he thought of the servants' staircase. Nothing could be more 
 convenient ; she could go quickly through her own kitchen into 
 her apartment Only, as Marie Pichon was always in the pas- 
 sage of a morning, Octave considered it prudent to divert her 
 attention, whilst the other young woman made her escape. 
 
 He went out in his ord'inary quiet way, and was surprised 
 to find Saturnin making himself at home at Marie's, and calmly 
 watching her do her house work. The madman loved thus to 
 seek refuge beside her as in former days, delighted with the 
 manner in which she left him to himself, and certain of not 
 being jostled. Moreover, he was not in her way, and she will- 
 ingly tolerated him, though his conversational powers were not 
 great. It was company all the same, and she would still sing 
 her ballad in a low and expiring voice. 
 
 " Hallo ! so you're with your lover 1 " said Octave, manoeuV' 
 ring so as to keep the door shut behind his back. 
 
 Marie turned crimson. Oh ! that poor Monsieur Saturnin \ 
 Was it possible 1 He who seemed to suffer even when any one 
 touched his hand by accident ! And the madman also got 
 angry. He would not be any one's lover never, never! 
 Whoever told his sister such a lie would have him to deal with. 
 Octave, amazed at his sudden irritation, felt it necessary to 
 calm him. 
 
 Meanwhile, Berthe made her way to the servants' staircase. 
 She had two flights to descend. At the first step a shrill laugh, 
 issuing from Madame Juzeur's kitchen below, caused her to 
 stop ; and she tremblingly stood against the landing window, 
 opened wide on to the narrow courtyard. Then the sound of 
 voices broke forth, the flow of morning filth ascended from the 
 pestiferous hole. It was the servants who were all furious with 
 little Louise, accusing her of looking through their keyholes 
 when they were going to bed. Not yet fifteen, a mere chit, 
 something decent ! Louise laughed, and laughed louder than 
 ever. She did not deny it. She knew all about Adele's plump-
 
 PIPING HOT ! 25B 
 
 ness. Oh ! it was a sight worth seeing ! Lisa was precious 
 skinny, Victoire's stomach was staved in like an old barrel ; 
 and to silence her the others retorted with the most abominable 
 language. Then, annoyed at having been thus undressed before 
 each other, tormented by the necessity of defending themselves, 
 they took their revenge on their mistresses by undressing them 
 in their turn. Thank you for nothing ! Lisa might be skinny, 
 but she was not as bad as the other Madame Campardon, a 
 fine shark's skin, a regular treat for an architect ; Victoire con- 
 tented herself with wishing all the Vabres, the Duveyriers, and 
 the Josserands in the world as well preserved stomachs as her 
 own, if ever they reached her age ; as for Adele, she would 
 certainly not have exchanged her plumpness with madame's 
 young ladies, who had next to nothing at all ! And Berthe, 
 frightened and immovable, never having even suspected the 
 existence of that common sewer, assisted for the first time at 
 the washing of the domestics' dirty linen, at the moment when 
 the masters and mistresses were washing themselves. 
 
 Suddenly a voice exclaimed : 
 
 " Here's master coming for his hot water ! " 
 
 And windows were quickly closed, and doors slammed. The 
 silence of death ensued, yet Berthe did not at first dare to move. 
 When she at length went down the thought came to her that 
 Rachel was probably in her kitchen, waiting for her. This 
 caused her fresh anguish. She now dreaded to enter, she 
 would have preferred to reach the street and fly away in the 
 distance for ever. She nevertheless pushed the door ajar, 
 and felt relieved on beholding that the servant was not there. 
 Then, seized with a childish joy on finding herself at home 
 again and safe, she hurried to her room. But there was Rachel 
 standing before the bed, which had not even been opened. She 
 looked at the bed and then at her mistress with her expression- 
 less face. In her first moment of fright the young woman 
 lost her head to the point of trying to excuse herself, and talked 
 of an illness of her sister's. She stammered out the words, and 
 then, frightened at the poorness of her lie, understanding that 
 denial was utterly useless, she suddenly burst into tears. 
 Dropping on to a chair she continued crying. 
 
 This lasted a good while. Not a word was exchanged, sobs 
 alone disturbed the perfect quiet of the room. Rachel, exag- 
 gerating her habitual discretion, maintaining her cold manner 
 of a girl who knows everything, but who says nothing, had 
 turned her back and was making a pretence of beating up the
 
 256 PIPING HOT! 
 
 pillows, as though she was just finishing arranging the bed. At 
 length, when madame, more and raoie upset by this silence, 
 was giving too loud a vent to her despair, the maid, who was 
 then dusting, said simply, in a respectful tone of voice : 
 
 "Madame is wrong to take on so, master is not so very 
 pleasant." 
 
 Berthe left off crying. She would pay the girl, that was all. 
 Without waiting further she gave her twenty francs. Then, 
 not thinking that sufficient, and already feeling uneasy, having 
 fancied she saw her curl her lip disdainfully, she rejoined her in 
 the kitchen, and brought her back to make her a present of an 
 almost new dress. 
 
 At the same moment Octave, on his part, was again in a state 
 of alarm on account of Monsieur Gourd. On leaving the 
 Pichons', he had found him standing immovable the same as the 
 night before, listening behind the door communicating with the 
 servants' staircase. He followed him without even dariug to 
 speak to him. The doorkeeper gravely went back again down 
 the grand staircase. On the floor below he took a key from his 
 pocket and entered the room which was let to the distinguished 
 individual who came there to work one night every week. 
 And through the door, which remained open for a moment, 
 Octave obtained a clear view of that room which was always 
 kept as closely shut as a tomb. It was in a terrible state of 
 disorder that morning, the gentleman having no doubt worked 
 there the night before. A huge bed, with the sheets stripped 
 off, a wardrobe with a glass door, empty save for the remnants 
 of a lobster and two partly filled bottles, two dirty hand-basins 
 lying about, one beside the bed and the other on a chair. 
 Monsieur Gourd, with his calm air of a retired judge, at once 
 occupied himself with emptying and rinsing out the basins. 
 
 As he hurried to the Passage de la Madeleine to pay for the 
 bonnet, the young man was tormented by a painful uncertainty. 
 Finally, he determined to engage the doorkeepers in conversa- 
 tion on his return. Madame Gourd, reclining in her commodi- 
 ous arm-chair, was getting a breath of fresh air between the 
 two pots of flowers at the open window of their room. Standing 
 up beside the door, old mother Perou was waiting in an humble 
 and frightened manner. 
 
 " Have you a letter for me ? " asked Octave, as a commence- 
 ment. 
 
 Monsieur Gourd just then came down from the room on the 
 third floor. Seeing after that was I he only work that he now
 
 PIPING HOT ! 257 
 
 condescended to do in the house; and he showed himself highly 
 flattered by the confidence of the gentleman, who paid him well 
 on condition that his basins should not pass through any other 
 hands. 
 
 " No, Monsieur Mouret, nothing at all," answered he. 
 
 He had seen old mother Pe'rou perfectly well, but he pre- 
 tended not to be aware of her presence. The day before he had 
 got into such a rage with her for upsetting a pail of water in 
 the middle of the vestibule, that he had sent her about her 
 business on the spot. And she had called for her money, but 
 the mere sight of him made her tremble, and she almost sank 
 into the ground with humility. 
 
 However, as Octave remained some time doing the amiable 
 with Madame Gourd, the doorkeeper roughly turned towards the 
 poor old woman. 
 
 " So, you want to be paid. What's owing to you ? " 
 
 But Madame Gourd interrupted him. 
 
 " Look, darling, there's that girl again with her horrible little 
 beast." 
 
 It was Lisa who, a few days before, had found a spaniel in 
 the street. And this occasioned continual disputes with the 
 doorkeepers. The landlord would not allow any animals in 
 the house. No, no animals and no women ! The little dog 
 was even forbidden to go into the courtyard ; the street was 
 quite good enough for him. As it had been raining that morn- 
 ing, and the little beast's paws were sopping wet, Monsieur 
 Gourd rushed forward, exclaiming : 
 
 " I will not have him walk up the stairs, you hear me 1 
 Carry him in your arms." 
 
 " So that he shall make me all in a mess ! " said Lisa in- 
 solently. " What a great misfortune it'll be, if he wets the 
 servants' staircase a bit ! Up you go, doggie." 
 
 Monsieur Gourd tried to seize hold of her, and almost 
 slipped, so he fell to abusing those sluts of servants. He was 
 always at war with them, tormented with the rage of a former 
 servant who wishes to be waited on in his turn. But Lisa 
 turned upon him, and with the verbosity of a girl who had 
 grown up in the gutters of Montmartre she shouted out : 
 
 " Eh ! just you leave me alone, you miserable old flunkey ! 
 Go and empty the duke's jerries ! " 
 
 It was the only insult capable of silencing Monsieur Gourd, 
 and the servants all took advantage of it. He returned to his 
 room quivering with rage and mumbling to himself, saying that 
 
 R
 
 258 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 he was certainly very proud of having been in service at the 
 duke's, and that she would not have stayed there two hours 
 even, the baggage ! Then, he assailed mother Pcrou, who 
 almost jumped out of her skin. 
 
 " Well ! what is it you're owed 1 Eh ! you say twelve francs 
 sixty-five centimes. But it isn't possible ? Sixty-three hours 
 at twenty centimes the hour. Ah ! you charge a quarter of an 
 hour. Never ! I warned you, I only pay the hours that are 
 completed." 
 
 And he did not even give her her money then, he left her 
 perfectly terrified, and joined in the conversation between his wife 
 and Octave. The latter was cunningly alluding to all the 
 worries that such a house must cause them, hoping thus to get 
 them to talk about the lodgers. Such strange things must 
 sometimes take place behind the doors ! Then, the doorkeeper 
 chimed in, as grave as ever. 
 
 "What concerns us, concerns us, Monsieur Mouret, and 
 what doesn't concern us, doesn't concern us. Over there, for 
 instance, is something which quite puts me beside myself. 
 Look at it, look at it ! " 
 
 And, stretching out his arm, he pointed to the boot-stitcher, 
 that tall pale girl who had arrived at the house in the middle 
 of the funeral. She walked with difficulty ; she was evidently 
 in the family way, and her condition was exaggerated by the 
 sickly skinniness of her neck and legs. 
 
 With his arm tragically thrust out, the doorkeeper continued 
 to point at her, whilst she went towards the servants' staircase. 
 It seemed to him that this woman's condition cast a gloom 
 over the chilly cleanliness of the courtyard, and even over the 
 imitation marble and the gilded zinc work of the vestibule. In 
 his eyes it gave a disgraceful character to the building, making 
 even the very walls feel uncomfortable, and causing an un- 
 pleasant perturbation in the morality of the different storeys. 
 
 " On my word of honour ! sir, if this sort of thing was likely 
 to continue, we would prefer to retire to our home, at Mort-ia- 
 Ville ; would we not, Madame Gourd ? for thank heaven ! we 
 have sufficient to live on, we are dependent on no one. A 
 house like this to be made the talk of the place by such a 
 creature ! for so it is, sir ! " 
 
 " She seems very ill," said Octave following her with his 
 eyes, not daring to pity her too much. " I always see her 
 looking so sad, so pale, so forlorn. But of course she has a 
 lover."
 
 PIPING HOT ! 259 
 
 At this, Monsieur Gourd gave a violent start. 
 
 " Now we have it ! Do you hear, Madame Gourd ? Mon- 
 sieur Mouret is also of opinion that she has a lover. It's clear, 
 such things don't come of themselves. Well ! sir, for two 
 months past I've been on the watch, and I've not yet seen the 
 shadow of a man. How full of vice she must be ! Ah ! if I 
 only found her chap, how I would chuck him out ! But I can't 
 find him, and it's that which worries me." 
 
 " Perhaps no one comes," Octave ventured to observe. 
 
 The doorkeeper looked at him with surprise. 
 
 " That would not be natural. Oh ! I'm determined, I'll 
 catch him. I've still six weeks before me, for I got the laud- 
 lord to give her notice to quit in October. Just fancy her 
 being confined here ! And, you know, though Monsieur Duvey- 
 rier showed his indignation by insisting upon her going else- 
 where for that event, I can scarcely sleep at night, for she is 
 capable of playing us the trick of not waiting till then. In 
 short, all these sort of accidents would have been avoided had 
 it not been for that curmudgeon, old Vabre. Just to make a 
 hundred and thirty francs a year more, and against my advice ! 
 The carpenter ought to have been a sufficient lesson for him. 
 Not at all, he must needs go and let to a boot-stitcher. Go it, 
 rot your house with labourers, lodge a lot of dirty people who 
 work ! When you have the lower classes in your house, sir, 
 that's the sort of thing you have to expect ! " 
 
 And, with his arm still thrust out, he pointed to the young 
 woman who was painfully wending her way up the servants' 
 staircase. Madame Gourd was obliged to calm him : he took 
 the respectability of the house too much to heart, he would end 
 by making himself ill. Then, mother Pe"rou having dared to 
 manifest her presence by a discreet cough, he returned to her, 
 and coolly deducted the sou she had charged for the odd quarter 
 of an hour. She was at length going off with her twelve francs 
 sixty centimes, when he offered to take her back, but at three 
 sous an hour only. She burst into tears, and accepted. 
 
 " I shall always be able to get some one," said he. " You're 
 no longer strong enough, you don't even do two sous' worth." 
 
 Octave felt his mind relieved as he returned to his room for 
 a minute. On the third floor, he caught up Madame Juzeur 
 who was also going to her apartments. She was obliged now 
 to run down every morning after Louise, who loitered at the 
 different shops. 
 
 "How proud you are becoming," said she with her sharp
 
 2CO PIPING HOT ! 
 
 smile. " One can see very well that you are being spoilt else- 
 where." 
 
 These words once more aroused all the young man's anxiety. 
 He followed her into her drawing-room, pretending to joke with 
 her the while. Only one of the curtains was slightly drawn 
 back, and the carpet and the hangings before the doors subdued 
 still more this alcove-like light ; and the noise of the street 
 did not penetrate more than to the extent of a faint buzz in 
 this room as soft as down. She made him seat himself beside 
 her on the low wide sola. But as he did not take her hand 
 and kiss it, she asked him archly : 
 
 " Do you then no longer love me ? " 
 
 He blushed and protested that he adored her. Then she 
 gave him her hand of her own accord with a little stifled laugh ; 
 and he was obliged to raise it to his lips, so as to dispel her 
 suspicions, if she had any. But she almost immediately with- 
 drew it again. 
 
 " No, no, though you pretend to excite yourself, it gives you 
 no pleasure. Oh, I feel it does not, and, besides, it is only 
 natural ! " 
 
 What ? what did she mean ? He seized her round the waist, 
 and pressed her with questions. But she would not answer ; 
 she abandoned herself to his embrace, and kept shaking her head. 
 At length, to oblige her to speak, he commenced tickling her. 
 
 "Well, you see," she ended by murmuring, "you love 
 another." 
 
 She named Vale'rie, and reminded him of the evening at the 
 Josserands' when he devoured her with his eyes. Then, as he 
 declared that Valerie was nothing to him, she retorted with 
 another laugh that she knew that very well, and had been only 
 teasing him. Only there was another; and this time she 
 named Madame Hedouin, laughing more than ever, and amused 
 at his protestations, which were very energetic. Who then ? 
 was it Marie Pichon ? Ah ! he could not deny that one. Yet he 
 did do so ; but she shook her head. She assured him that her 
 little finger never told stories. And to draw each of these 
 women's names from her, he was obliged to redouble his 
 caresses. 
 
 But she had not named Berthe. He was loosening his hold 
 of her, when she resumed : 
 
 " Now, there's the last one." 
 
 " What last one ? " inquired he, anxiously. 
 
 Screwing up her mouth, she again obstinately refused to say
 
 PIPING HOT ! 261 
 
 anything more, so long as he had not opened her lips with a 
 kiss. Really, she could not name the person, for it was she 
 who had thrown out the first idea of her marriage ; and she 
 gave Berthe's history without mentioning her name. Then, 
 with his lips pressed close to her delicate neck, he admitted 
 everything, feeling a cowardly enjoyment in the avowal. How 
 ridiculous he was to hide anything from her ! Perhaps he 
 thought she would be jealous. Why should she be 1 She had 
 granted him nothing, had she ? Nothing more than mere 
 playfulness as at present. In short, she was a virtuous woman, 
 and almost quarrelled with him for having fancied she would 
 be jealous. 
 
 He continued to hold her reclining in his arms. She 
 languishingly alluded to the cruel being who had deserted her 
 after having only been married a week. A miserable woman 
 like her knew too much of the tempests of the heart ! For a 
 long time past, she had guessed what she styled Octave's 
 " little games ; " for not a kiss could be exchanged in the house 
 without her hearing it. And, in the depths of the wide sofa, 
 they had quite a cosy little chat, interrupted now and then 
 with all sorts of delightful caresses. She called him a big 
 ninny, for he had missed fire with Vale'rie entirely through his 
 own fault. She would have put him in the way of overcoming 
 her, if he had merely looked in and asked her for her advice. 
 Then she questioned him about little Pichon. But she kept 
 returning toBerthe ; she thought her charming ; a superb skin; 
 the foot of a marchioness. However, she soon had to repel 
 him, and eventually sent him away, after making him solemnly 
 swear to come often and confess himself, without hiding any- 
 thing whatever from her, if he wished her to assume the 
 direction of his affairs of the heart. 
 
 When Octave left her he felt more at ease. She had restored 
 his good humour, and she amused him with her complicated 
 principles of virtue. Downstairs, directly he entered the ware- 
 house, he reassured Berthe with a sign, as her eyes questioned 
 him with reference to the bonnet. Then all the terrible 
 adventure of the morning was forgotten. When Auguste re- 
 turned , a little before lunch-time, he found them both looking 
 the same as usual, Berthe very much bored at the pay-desk, 
 and Octave gallantly measuring off some silk for a lady. 
 
 But, after that day, the lovers' private meetings became 
 rarer still. He, who was very ardent, was in despair, and 
 followed her into every corner with continual entreaties and
 
 262 PIPING HOT! 
 
 prayers for assignations, whenever she liked, and no matter 
 where. She, on the contrary, with the indifference of a girl 
 who had grown up in a hot-house, seemed only to enjoy her 
 guilty passion for the sake of the secret outings, the presents, 
 the forbidden pleasures, and the expensive hours passed in 
 cabs, at the theatres and the restaurants. All her early educa- 
 tion was cropping up again, her desire for money, for dress, and 
 for wasted luxury ; and she had soon reached the point of being 
 tired of her lover the same as of her husband, thinking him too 
 exacting for what he gave, and trying, with a quiet unconscious- 
 ness, not to render him his full weight of love. So that, ex- 
 aggerating her fears, she constantly refused him ; never again 
 would she venture in his room, she would die of .fright ! to re- 
 ceive him in hers was impossible, they might be surprised ; 
 then, when he implored her to make some assignation out of 
 doors, she would burst into tears, and say that he could really 
 have little respect for her. However, the expenses continued, 
 and her caprices increased; after the bonnet, she had desired a fan 
 covered with Alengon lace, without counting the innumerable 
 costly little nothings which took her fancy in the shop- windows. 
 Though he did not yet dare refuse, his avarice was aroused by 
 the rapid sweep made of his savings. As a practical fellow, he 
 ended by thinking it stupid to be always paying, when she, on her 
 side, only gave him her foot under the table. Paris had decidedly 
 brought him ill-luck; at first, repulses, and then this silly 
 passion, which was fast emptying his purse. He could certainly 
 not be accused of succeeding through women. He now found a 
 certain honour in it by way of consolation, in his secret rage at 
 the failure of his plan so clumsily carried out up till then. 
 
 Yet Auguste was not much in their way. Ever since the bad 
 turn affairs had taken at Lyons, he had suffered more than ever 
 with his headaches. On the first of the month, Berthe had ex- 
 perienced a sudden joy on seeing him, in the evening, place three 
 hundred francs under the bedroom timepiece for her dress ; and, 
 in spite of the reduction on the amount which she had demanded, 
 as she had given up all hope of ever seeing a sou of it, she threw 
 herself into his arms, all warm with gratitude. On this occa- 
 sion the husband had a night of hugging such as the lover 
 never experienced. 
 
 September passed away in this manner, in the great calm of 
 the house emptied of its occupants by the summer months. 
 The people of the second floor had gone to the seaside in Spain, 
 which caused Monsieur Gourd, full of pity, to shrug his
 
 PIPING HOT! 263 
 
 shoulders ; what a fuss ! as though the most distinguished 
 people were not satisfied with Trouville ! The Duveyriers, 
 since the beginning of Gustave's holidays, had been at their 
 country house at Villeneuve-Saint-Georges. Even the Jos- 
 serands went and spent a fortnight at a friend's, near Pontoise, 
 spreading a rumour beforehand that they were going to some 
 watering-place. 
 
 This clearance, these deserted apartments, the staircase 
 slumbering in a greater silence than ever, seemed to Octave to 
 offer less danger ; and he argued and so wearied Berthe that she 
 at last received him in her room one evening whilst Auguste was 
 away at Lyons. But this meeting also nearly took a bad turn. 
 Madame Josserand, who had returned home two days before, 
 was seized with such an attack of indigestion after dining out, 
 that Hortense, filled with anxiety, went downstairs for her 
 sister. Fortunately, Rachel was just finishing scouring her 
 saucepans, and she was able to let the young man out by the 
 servants' staircase. On the following days, Berthe availed 
 herself of that alarm to again refuse him everything. 
 
 Besides, they were so foolish as not to reward the servant. 
 She attended to them in her cold way, and with her superior 
 respect of a girl who hears and sees nothing ; only, as madame 
 was for ever crying after money, and as Monsieur Octave already 
 spent too much in presents, she curled her lip more and more 
 in that wretched establishment, where the mistress's lover did not 
 even present her with ten sous when he stayed there. If they 
 fancied they had bought her for evermore, with a dress and 
 twenty francs, ah ! no, they made a mistake ; she put a higher 
 price on herself than that ! Thenceforward she became less 
 obliging, no longer shutting the doors behind them, without 
 their being conscious of her ill-humour ; for one does not think 
 of bestowing gratuities when, furious at not knowing where to 
 go to exchange a kiss, one comes to quarrelling about it. And 
 the silence of the house increased, and Octave, always on the 
 lookout for some safe nook, encountered Monsieur Gourd 
 everywhere, watching for the disreputable things which made 
 the walls shudder, gliding noiselessly along, haunted by visions 
 of pregnant women. 
 
 Meanwhile, Madame Juzeur wept with that lovesick darling 
 who could only gaze on his mistress from a distance ; and she 
 gave him the very best advice. Octave's passion reached such 
 a pitch that he thought one day of imploring her to lend him 
 her apartment ; no doubt she would not have refused, but he
 
 2G4 PIPING HOT! 
 
 feared rousing Berthe's indignation by his indiscretion. He 
 also had the idea of utilising Saturnin ; perhaps the madman 
 would watch over them like a faithful dog in some out of the 
 way room; only, he displayed such a fantastical humour, at 
 one time overwhelming his sister's lover with the most awkward 
 caresses, at another, sulking with him and casting suspicious 
 glances gleaming with a sudden hatred. One could almost 
 have thought him jealous, with the nervous and violent jealousy 
 of a woman. He had been like this especially since Octave had 
 met him at times of a morning, laughing-with little Pichon. 
 In point of fact, Octave never passed Marie's door now without 
 going in, seized again with a singular fancy, a fit of longing, 
 which he would not even admit to himself ; he adored Berthe, 
 he madly desired her, and this longing to possess her gave birth 
 to an infinite tenderness for the other one, to a love which had 
 never appeared so sweet at the time of their former intimate 
 connection. There was a continual charm in looking at her 
 and in touching her, coupled with jokes and teasings, all the 
 playfulness of a man who wishes to regain possession of a 
 woman and is secretly bothered by the fact of his loving else- 
 where. And, on those days, when Saturnin found him hanging 
 about Marie's skirts, the madman would threaten him with his 
 wolf-like eyes, his teeth ready to bite, and would neither forgive 
 him nor come and kiss his fingers, like some cowed animal, until 
 he beheld him again faithful and loving with Berthe. 
 
 Just as September was drawing to a close, and the lodgers 
 were on the point of returning home, a wild idea came to 
 Octave in the midst of his torment. Rachel had asked per- 
 mission to sleep out on one of the Tuesdays that her master 
 would be at Lyons, in order to enable her to attend the wedding 
 of one of her sisters in the country ; and it was merely a ques- 
 tion of passing the night in the servant's room, where no one in 
 the world would think of seeking them. Berthe, feeling deeply 
 hurt at the suggestion, at first displayed the greatest repug- 
 nance ; but he implored her with tears in his eyes ; he talked 
 of leaving Paris where he suffered too much ; he confused and 
 wearied her with such a number of arguments, that, scarcely 
 knowing what she did, she ended by consenting. All was 
 settled. The Tuesday evening, after dinner, they took a cup 
 of tea at the Josserands', so as to dispel any suspicions. 
 Trublot, Gueulin, and uncle Bachelard were there ; and, very 
 late in the evening, Duveyrier, who occasionally came to sleep 
 at the Rue de Choiseul, on account of business which he pre-
 
 PIPING HOT! 2f>5 
 
 tended he had to attend to early in the morning, even put in 
 an appearance. Octave made a show of joining freely in the 
 conversation of these gentlemen ; then, when midnight struck, 
 he withdrew, and went and locked himself in Rachel's room, 
 where Berthe was to join him an hour later when all the house 
 was asleep. 
 
 Upstairs, the arrangement of the room occupied him during 
 the first half hour. He had provided himself with clean bed 
 linen, and he proceeded to remake the bed, awkwardly, and 
 occupying a long while over it through fear of being overheard. 
 Then, like Trublot, he sat down on a box and tried to wait 
 patiently. The servants came up to bed, one by one ; and 
 through the thin partitions the sounds of women undressing 
 themselves could be heard. One o'clock struck, then the 
 quarter, then the half hour past. He began to feel anxious ; 
 why was Berthe so long in coming] She must have left the 
 Josserands' about one o'clock at the latest ; and it could not 
 take her more than ten minutes to go to her rooms and come 
 out again by the servants' staircase. When two o'clock struck, 
 be imagined all sorts of catastrophes. At length, he heaved a 
 sigh of relief, on fancying he recognised her footstep. And he 
 opened the door, in order to light her. But surprise rooted him 
 to the spot. Opposite Adele's door, Trublot, bent almost 
 double, was looking through the key-hole, and jumped up, 
 frightened by that sudden light. 
 
 " What ! it's you again ! " murmured Octave with annoyance. 
 
 Trublot began to laugh, without appearing the least surprised 
 at finding him there at such a time of night. 
 
 "Just fancy," explained he very softly, "that fool Adele 
 hasn't given me her key, and she has gone and joined Duveyrier 
 in his room. Eh ? what's the matter with you ? Ah ! you 
 didn't know Duveyrier slept with her. It is so, my dear 
 fellow. He really is reconciled with his wife, who, however, 
 only resigns herself to him now and then ; so he falls back upon 
 Adele. It's convenient, whenever he comes to Paris." 
 
 He interrupted himself, and stooped down again, then added 
 between his clenched teeth. 
 
 " What a confounded brainless girl that Adele is ! If she 
 had only given me her key, I could have made myself comfort- 
 able here." 
 
 Then, he returned to the loft where he had been previously 
 waiting, taking Octave with him, who, moreover, desired to 
 question him respecting the finish of the evening at the Jos-
 
 266 PIPING HOT! 
 
 serands'. But, for some time, Trublot would not allow him to 
 open his mouth. He was highly irate with Duveyrier, and in 
 the obscurity, black as ink, and the close atmosphere beneath 
 the low-lying beams, he was continually recurring to him. Yes, 
 the dirty animal had at first wanted Julie ; only she had taken 
 a fancy to little Gustave down in the country. So that, snuffed 
 out on this side, and not daring to take Cle'mence, because of 
 Hippolyte, the counsellor had no doubt thought it preferable to 
 pick up with some one outside his own home. And no one 
 knew where or how he had jumped upon Adele behind some 
 door no doxibt, in a draught ; and that big slut would certainly 
 never have dared to have been impolite to the landlord. 
 
 " For a month past, he has not missed a single one of the 
 Josserands' Tuesdays at home," said Trublot. " It's very awk- 
 ward. I must discover Clarisse for him, so that he may leave 
 us in peace." 
 
 Octave was at length able to question him as to the wind-up 
 of the party. It seemed that Berthe had left her mother's 
 shortly after midnight, looking very composed. No doubt, she 
 was now in Rachel's room. But Trublot, delighted at the 
 meeting, would not let him go. 
 
 " It's idiotic, keeping me waiting so long," continued he. 
 " Besides, I'm almost asleep as it is. My governor has put me 
 into the liquidation department, and I'm up all night three 
 times a week, my dear fellow. If Julie were only there, she 
 would make room for me. But Duveyrier only brings Hip- 
 polyte up from the country. And, by the way, you know 
 Hippolyte, that tall ugly chap ! Well ! I just saw him going 
 to join Louise, that frightful brat of a foundling whose soul 
 Madame Juzeur wishes to save. Eh? it's a fine success for 
 Madame ! ' Anything you like except that ! ' An abortion of 
 fifteen, a dirty bundle picked up on a doorstep, a fine morsel 
 for that bony fellow with damp hands and the shoulders of a 
 bull ! As for me, I don't care a button, and yet it disgusts me 
 all the same." 
 
 That night, Trublot, who was greatly bored, was full of philo- 
 sophical reflections. He added almost in a whisper : 
 
 " Well you know ! like master, like man. When landlords 
 set the example, its scarcely surprising if the servants' tastes 
 are not exactly refined. Ah ! everything's decidedly going to 
 the dogs in France ! " 
 
 " Good-bye," said Octave, " I'm off." 
 
 But Trublot still detained him, enumerating the servants'
 
 PIPING HOT ! 267 
 
 rooms where he might have slept, as the summer had emptied 
 nearly the whole of them ; only the worst was that they all 
 double-locked their doors, even when they were merely going 
 to the eud of the passage, they had such a fear of being robbed 
 by each other. There was nothing to be done with Lisa. As 
 for Victoire, ten years ago she might have been passable. And 
 he especially deplored Valerie's mania for changing her cook. 
 He counted the last half-dozen she had had on his fingers. There 
 was a regular string of them : one who had insisted on chocolate 
 of a morning ; one who had left because her master did not eat 
 cleanly; one whom the police had come for, just as she was 
 putting a piece of veal to the fire ; one who could not touch a 
 thing without breaking it, she was so strong ; one who engaged 
 a maid to wait upon her; one who went out in madame's 
 dresses, and who slapped madame's face, the day when ma- 
 dame ventured to allude to the matter. All those in a month ! 
 Not giving one sufficient time to pinch them in their kitchen ! 
 
 "And then," added he, "there was Eugenie. You must 
 have noticed her, a fine tall girl, a regular Venus, my dear fel- 
 low ! and no joking this time : people turned round in the 
 street to look at her. So that for ten days, the house was quite 
 topsy-turvy. The ladies were furious. The men could scarcely 
 contain themselves : Campardon's tongue hung out ; Duveyrier 
 had the idea of coining up here every day to see if the roof 
 leaked. A real revolution, a flame which blazed in the con- 
 founded house from the cellars to the loft. As for me, I mis- 
 trusted her. She was too stylish ! It ended by Eugenie being 
 sent about her business the day wheu madame found out, by 
 means of her sheets, which were as black as soot, that she was 
 joined every morning by the charcoal-dealer of the Place Gaillon ; 
 regular nigger's sheets, the washing of which cost an awful sum !" 
 
 At length, Octave was able to get free. He was on the point 
 of leaving Trublot in the profound obscurity of the loft, when 
 the latter suddenly expressed his surprise. 
 
 " But you, what are you doing amongst the maids ? Ah 1 
 rascal, you come here too ! " 
 
 And he laughed with delight, and promising to keep Octave's 
 secret, sent him off, wishing him a pleasant night of it. 
 
 When Octave found himself back in Rachel's room, he exper- 
 ienced a fresh deception. Berthe was not there. Anger got 
 the better of him now : Berthe had humbugged him, she had pro- 
 mised him merely to get rid of his importunities. Whilst he 
 was chafing there, she was sleeping, happy at being alone, oc-
 
 268 PIPING HOT! 
 
 cupying the whole breadth of the conjugal couch. Then, in- 
 stead of returning to his room and going to sleep himself, he 
 obstinately waited, throwing himself all dressed as he -was on 
 the bed, and passing the night in forming projects of revenge. 
 Three o'clock chimed out in the distance. The snores of robust 
 maid-servants arose on his left ; while on his right there was 
 a continual wail, a woman moaning with pain in the fever of a 
 sleepless night. He ended by recognising the boot-stitcher's 
 voice. The wretched woman was lying suffering all alone in 
 one of those poverty-stricken closets next to the roof. 
 
 Just as day was breaking, Octave fell asleep. A profound 
 silence reigned ; even the boot-stitcher no longer moaned, but 
 lay like one dead. The sun was peering through the narrow 
 window, when the door opening abruptly awoke the young man. 
 
 It was Berthe who, urged by an irresistible desire, had come 
 up to see if he was still there ; she had at first scouted the idea, 
 then she had furnished herself with pretexts, the need for going 
 to the room and putting everything straight, in case he had 
 left it anyhow in his rage. Moreover she no longer expected to 
 find him there. When she beheld him rise from the little iron 
 bedstead, ghastly pale and menacing, she stood dumbfounded ; 
 and she listened with bowed head to his furious reproaches. He 
 pressed her to answer, to give him at least some explanation. 
 At length, she murmured : 
 
 " At the last moment, I could not do it. It was too indeli- 
 cate. I love you, oh ! I swear it But not here, not here ! " 
 
 And, seeing him approach her, she drew back, afraid that he 
 might wish to take advantage of the opportunity. Eight o'clock 
 was striking, the servants had all gone down, even Trublot had 
 departed. Then, as he tried to take hold of her hands, saying 
 that when one loves a person, one accepts everything, she com- 
 plained that the closeness of the room made her feel unwell, and 
 she slightly opened the window. But he again tried to draw 
 her towards him, overpowering her with his importunities. At 
 this moment a turbid torrent of foul words ascended from the 
 inner courtyard. 
 
 "Pig ! slut! have you done? Your dish-cloth's again fallen on 
 my head." 
 
 Berthe, turning ghastly pale, and quivering from head to 
 foot, released herself, murmuring : 
 
 " Do you hear those girls 1 They make me shiver all over. 
 The other day, I thought I should have been ill No, leave me 
 alone, and I promise to see you, on Tuesday next, in your room."
 
 PIPING HOT I 269 
 
 The two lovers, standing up and not daring to move, were 
 compelled to hear everything. 
 
 " Show yourself a moment," continued Lisa, who was furious, 
 " so that I may shy it back in your ugly face ! " 
 
 Then, Adele went and leant out of her kitchen window. 
 
 " There's a fuss about a bit of rag ! To begin with, I only 
 used it for washing-up with yesterday. And then it fell out by 
 accident." 
 
 They made peace together, and Lisa asked her what they had 
 had for dinner at her place the day before. Another stew ! 
 What misers ! She would have ordered chops for herself, if she 
 had been in such a hole ! She was for ever inciting Adele to 
 sneak the sugar, the meat, the candles, just to show that she 
 could do as she liked ; as for herself, never being hungry, she 
 left Victoire to rob the Campardons, without even taking her 
 share. 
 
 "Oh ! " said Adele, who was gradually becoming corrupted, 
 "the other night I hid some potatoes in my pocket. They 
 quite burnt my leg. It was jolly, it was jolly ! And, you 
 know, I like vinegar, I do. I don't care, I drink it out of the 
 cruet now." 
 
 Victoire came and leant out in her turn, as she finished 
 drinking some cassis mixed with brandy, which Lisa treated her 
 to now and then of a morning, to pay her for concealing her day 
 and night escapades. And, as Louise thrust out her tongue at 
 them, from the depths of Madame Juzeur's kitchen, Victoire 
 was at once down upon her. 
 
 " Wait a bit ! you street foundling ; I'll shove your tongue 
 somewhere for you ! " 
 
 " Come along then, old swiller ! " retorted the little one. " I 
 saw you yesterday bringing it all up again in your plate." 
 
 At this, the rush. of foul words again rebounded from wall to 
 wall of the pestiferous hole. Adele herself, who was mastering 
 the Paris gift of the gab, called Louise a filthy drab, whilst 
 Lisa yelled out : 
 
 " I'll make her shut up, if she bothers us. Yes, yes, little 
 strumpet, I'll tell Cle"mence. She'll settle you. But, hush ! 
 here's the man. He's a nice dirty beast, he is ! " 
 
 Hippolyte just then appeared at the Duveyriers' window, 
 blacking his master's boots. The other servants, in spite of 
 everything, were very polite to him, for he belonged to the 
 aristocracy, and he despised Lisa, who in her turn despised 
 Adele, with more haughtiness than rich masters show to masters
 
 270 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 in difficulties. They asked him for news of Mademoiselle 
 Clemence and Mademoiselle Julie. Well ! really, they were 
 almost bored to death there ; but they were pretty well. Then, 
 jumping to another subject, he asked : 
 
 " Did you hear that girl, last night, wriggling about with her 
 stomach-ache 1 Wasn't it annoying ? Luckily she's going to 
 leave soon. I had half a mind to call out to her." 
 
 This allusion to the boot-stitcher's condition caused them to 
 pass all the ladies of the house in review. 
 
 At first they talked of Madame Campardon, who at least had 
 nothing more to fear ; then of Madame Juzeur, who took her 
 precautions; next of Madame Duveyrier, who was disgusted 
 with her husband ; and of Madame Valerie, who went and got 
 her children away from home. And at each recital bursts of 
 laughter arose in blasts from the squalid hole. 
 
 Berthe had again turned pale. She waited, no longer even 
 daring to leave the room, her eyes cast down with shame, like 
 one to whom violence was being offered in Octave's presence. 
 He, exasperated with the servants, felt that they were becoming 
 too filthy, and that he could not again take her in his arms ; 
 his desire was giving place to a weariness and a great sadness. 
 But suddenly the young woman started. Lisa had just uttered 
 her name. 
 
 " Talking of enjoying oneself, there's one who seems to me 
 to go in for a rare dose of it ! Eh ! Adele, isn't it true that 
 your Mademoiselle Berthe was up to all manner of tricks at the 
 time you used to wash her petticoats ? " 
 
 " And now," said Victoire, " she gets her husband's assistant 
 to give her a dusting ! " 
 
 " Hush ! " exclaimed Hippolyte softly. 
 
 " What for 1 Her jade of a servant isn't there to-day. A 
 sly hussy who'd eat you, when one speaks of her mistress ! You 
 know she's a Jewess, and she murdered some one once. Per- 
 haps the handsome Octave dusts her also, in the corners. The 
 governor must have engaged him just to increase the family, the 
 big ninny ! " 
 
 Then Berthe, suffering indescribable anguish, raised her eyes 
 to her lover. And, cast down, imploring some aid, she 
 stammered in a painful voice : 
 
 " My God ! my God ! " 
 
 Octave took her hand and squeezed it tightly ; he was choking 
 with impotent rage. What was to be done ? he could not show 
 himself and force those women to leave off. The foul words
 
 PIPING HOT! 271 
 
 continued, words which the young woman had never heard 
 before, all the overflow of a sewer which every morning found 
 an outlet there, close to her, and of which she had never had 
 the least suspicion. Their love, so carefully hidden as they 
 thought, was now being dragged amidst the vegetable parings 
 and the kitchen slops. These women knew all, without any- 
 one having spoken. Lisa related how Saturnin held the candle. 
 Victoire was highly amused by the husband's headaches, and 
 said that he would do well to get himself another eye and have 
 it placed somewhere ; even Adele had a fling at her mistress's 
 young lady, whose ailments, private habits, and toilet secrets 
 she ruthlessly exposed. And a filthy chaff soiled all that 
 remained that was good and tender in their love. 
 
 " Look out below ! " suddenly exclaimed Victoire, " here's 
 some of yesterday's carrots which stink enough to poison one ! 
 They'll do for that crapulous old Gourd ! " 
 
 The servants, out of spite, threw all the filth they could into 
 the inner courtyard, so that the doorkeeper should have it to 
 sweep up. 
 
 " And here's a bit of mouldy kidney ! " said Adele in her 
 turn. 
 
 All the scrapings of the saucepans, all the muck from the 
 washing-up basins, found their way there, whilst Lisa continued 
 to pull Berthe and Octave to pieces. The pair remained stand- 
 ing, hand in hand, face to face, unable to turn away their eyes ; 
 and their hands became as cold as ice, and their looks 
 acknowledged the impurity of their intimacy. This was what 
 their love had come to, this fornication beneath a downpour of 
 putrid meat and stale vegetables ! 
 
 "And you know," said Hippolyte, "the young gentleman 
 doesn't care a damn for the missis. He merely took her to 
 help him along in the world. Oh ! he's a miser at heart in 
 spite of his airs, an unscrupulous fellow, who, with his pre- 
 tensions of loving women, is not above slapping them ! " 
 
 Berthe, her eyes on Octave, saw him turn pale, his face so 
 upset, so changed, that he frightened her. 
 
 " On my word ! the two make a nice pair," resumed Lisa. 
 " I wouldn't give much for her skin either. Badly brought up, 
 with a heart as hard as a stone, caring for nothing except her 
 own pleasure, and sleeping with fellows for the sake of their 
 money, yes, for their money ! for I know the sort of woman." 
 
 The tears streamed from Berthe's eyes. Octave beheld her 
 features all distorted. It was as if they had been flayed before
 
 272 PIPING HOT! 
 
 each other, laid utterly bare, without any possibility of pro- 
 testing. Then, the young woman, suffocated by this open 
 cesspool which discharged its exhalations full in her face, 
 wished to fly. He did not detain her, for disgust with them- 
 selves made their presence a torture, and they longed for the 
 relief of no longer seeing each other. 
 
 " You promise to come, next Tuesday, to my room ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes." 
 
 And she hurried away, quite distracted. Left alone, he 
 walked about the room, fumbling with his hands, putting the 
 linen he had brought, into a bundle. He was no longer listen- 
 ing to the servants, when their last words attracted his atten- 
 
 " I tell you that Monsieur He"douin died last night. If 
 handsome Octave had foreseen that, he would have continued 
 to cultivate Madame Hedouin, who's worth a lot." 
 
 This news learnt there, amidst those surroundings, re-echoed 
 in the innermost recesses of his being. Monsieur Hedouin was 
 dead ! And he was seized with an immense regret. He 
 thought out loud, he could not restrain himself from saying : 
 
 " Ah ! yes, by Jove ! I've been a fool ! " 
 
 When Octave at length went down, with his bundle, he met 
 Eachel coming up to her room. Had she been a few minutes 
 sooner, she would have caught them there. Downstairs, she 
 had again found her mistress in tears ; but, this time, she had 
 not got anything out of her, neither an avowal, nor a sou. 
 And furious, understanding that they took advantage of her 
 absence to see each other and thus to do her out of her little 
 profits, she stared at the young man with a look black with 
 menace. A singular schoolboy timidity prevented Octave from 
 giving her ten francs ; and, desirous of displaying perfect ease 
 of mind, he went in to joke with Marie a while, when a grunt 
 proceeding from a corner caused him to turn round : it was 
 Saturnin who rose up saying, in one of hia jealous fits : 
 
 " Take care ! we're mortal enemies ! " 
 
 That morning was the 8th of October, and the boot-stitcher 
 had to clear out before noon. For a week past, Monsieur 
 Gourd had been watching her with a dread that increased hourly. 
 
 The boot-stitcher had implored the landlord to let her stay a 
 few days longer, so as to get over her confinement ; but had 
 met with an indignant refusal. Pains were seizing her at every 
 moment ; during the last night, she had fancied she would be 
 brought to bed all alone. Then, towards nine o'clock, she had
 
 PIPING HOT ! 273 
 
 begun her moving, helping the youngster whose little truck was 
 in the courtyard, leaning against the furniture or sitting down 
 on the stairs, whenever a formidable spasm doubled her up. 
 
 Monsieur Gourd, however, had discovered nothing. Not a 
 man ! He had been regularly humbugged. So that, all the 
 morning, he prowled about in a cold rage. Octave, who met 
 him, shuddered at the thought that he also must know of their 
 intimacy. Perhaps the doorkeeper did know of it, but he 
 bowed to him as politely as ever ; for what did not concern 
 him, did not concern him, as he was in the habit of saying. 
 That morning, he had also taken his cap off to the mysterious 
 lady, as she glided from the room of the gentleman on the third 
 floor, leaving nothing belonging to her in the staircase but an 
 evaporated odour of verbena ; he had also bowed to Trublot, to 
 the other Madame Campardon, and to Val6rie. They were all 
 ladies and gentlemen, neither the young men seen coming from 
 the maid-servants' bedrooms, nor the ladies met on the stairs 
 in incriminating dressing-gowns concerned him. But what did 
 concern him, did concern him, and he did not lose sight of the 
 few poor sticks of furniture belonging to the boot-stitcher, as 
 though the man so long sought for was about to make off in 
 one of the drawers. 
 
 At a quarter to twelve, the work-girl appeared, with her 
 wax-like face, her perpetual sadness, her mournful despondency. 
 She could scarcely move along. Monsieur Gourd trembled 
 until she was safe out in the street. Just as she handed him 
 her key, Duveyrier issued from the vestibule, so heated by his 
 night's work that the red blotches on his forehead seemed al- 
 most bleeding. He put on a haughty air, an implacable moral 
 severity, when the creature passed before him. Ashamed and 
 resigned, she bowed her head ; and, following the little truck, 
 she went off with the same despairing step as she had come, 
 the day when she had been engulfed by the undertaker's black 
 hangings. 
 
 Then, only, did Monsieur Gourd triumph. As though this 
 woman had carried off with her all the uneasiness of the house, 
 the disreputable things with which the very walls shuddered, 
 he called out to the landlord : 
 
 " A good riddance, sir ! One will be able to breathe now, 
 for, on my word of honour ! it was becoming disgusting. It 
 has lifted a hundredweight from off my chest. No, sir, you 
 see, in a house which is to be respected, there should be no 
 single women, and especially none of those women who work ! " 
 
 8
 
 274 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ON the following Tuesday, Berthe did not keep her promise to 
 Octave. This time, she had warned him not to expect her, in 
 a rapid explanation they had had that evening, after the ware- 
 house closed ; and she sobbed ; she had been to confession the 
 day before, feeling a want of religious comfort, and was still 
 quite upset by AbW Mauduit's grievous exhortations. Since 
 her marriage, she had thrown aside all religion ; but, after the 
 foul words with which the servants had sullied her, she had 
 suddenly felt so sad, so abandoned, so unclean, that she had 
 returned for an hour to the belief of her childhood, inflamed 
 with a hope of purification and salvation. On her return, the 
 priest having wept with her, her sin quite horrified her. 
 Octave, impotent and furious, shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 Then, three days later, she again promised for the following 
 Tuesday. At a meeting with her lover, in the Passage des 
 Panoramas, she had seen some Chantilly lace shawls ; and she 
 was incessantly alluding to them, whilst her eyes were filled 
 with desire. So that, on the Monday morning, the young man 
 laughingly said to her, in order to soften the brutal nature of 
 the bargain, that, if she at last kept her word, she would find a 
 little surprise for herself up in his room. She understood him, 
 and again burst into tears. No ! no ! she would not go now, 
 he had spoilt all the pleasure she had anticipated from their 
 being together. She had spoken of the shawl thoughtlessly, 
 she no longer wanted it, she would throw it on the fire if he 
 gave it her. However, on the morrow, they made all their 
 arrangements : she was to knock three times at his door very 
 softly, half an hour after midnight. 
 
 That day, when Auguste started for Lyons, he struck Berthe 
 as being rather peculiar. She had caught him whispering with 
 Rachel, behind the kitchen door; besides which, he was quite 
 yellow, and shivering, with one eye closed up ; but as he com- 
 plained a good deal of his headache she thought he was ill, and
 
 PIPING HOT ! 275 
 
 told him that the journey would do him good. Directly ho 
 had left, she returned to the kitchen, still feeling slightly un- 
 easy, and tried to sound the servant. The girl continued to be 
 discreet and respectful, and maintained the stiff attitude of 
 her early days. The young woman, however, felt that she was 
 vaguely dissatisfied ; and she thought that she had been very 
 foolish to give her twenty francs and a dress, and then to stop 
 all further gratuities, although compelled to do so, for she was 
 for ever in want of a five franc piece herself. 
 
 "My poor girl," said she to her, " I have not been very gener- 
 ous, have I ? But it is not my fault. I have not forgotten 
 you, and I shall recompense you by-and-by." 
 
 " Madame owes me nothing," answered Rachel in her cold 
 way. 
 
 Then Berthe went and fetched two of her old chemises, wish- 
 ing at least to show her good nature. But the servant, on re- 
 ceiving them, observed that they would do for rags for the 
 kitchen. 
 
 " Thank you, madame, calico irritates my skin, I only wear 
 linen." 
 
 Berthe, however, found her so polite, that she became more 
 easy. She made herself very familiar with her, told her she 
 was going to sleep out, and even asked her to leave a lamp 
 alight, in case she required it. The door leading on to the 
 grand staircase could be bolted, and she would go out by way 
 of the kitchen, th3 key of which she would take with her. The 
 servant received these instructions as coolly as if it had been a 
 question of cooking a piece of beef for the morrow's dinner. 
 
 By a refinement of discretion, as his mistress was to dine 
 with her parents that evening, Octave accepted an invitation to 
 the Campardons'. He counted on staying there till ten o'clock, 
 and then going and shutting himself up in his room, and wait- 
 ing for half-past twelve with as much patience as possible. 
 
 The dinner at the Campardons' was quite patriarchal. The 
 architect, seated between his wife and her cousin, lingered over 
 the dishes, regular family dishes, abundant and wholesome, as 
 he described them. That evening, they had a fowl and rice, a 
 joint of beef and stewed potatoes. Since the cousin had been 
 managing everything, the household had been living in a con- 
 tinuous state of indigestion, she knew so well how to buy things, 
 paying less and bringing home twice as much meat as any one 
 else. And Campardon had three helps of fowl, whilst Rose 
 stuffed herself with rice. Angele reserved herself for the
 
 276 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 underdone beef ; she liked blood, Lisa sometimes brought her 
 spoonfuls of it on the sly. And Gasparine alone scarcely 
 touched anything, her stomach having shrunk, so she said. 
 
 "Eat away," cried the architect to Octave, "you may be 
 eaten yourself some day." 
 
 Madame Campardon, bending towards the young man's ear, 
 was once more congratulating herself on the happiness which 
 the cousin had brought the household : an economy of quite 
 cent, per cent., the servants made to be respectful, Angele looked 
 after properly and receiving good examples. 
 
 "In short," murmured she, "Achille continues to be as happy 
 as a fish in water, and as for me I have absolutely nothing 
 whatever left to do, absolutely nothing. Listen ! she even 
 washes me, now. I can live without moving either arms or 
 legs, she has taken all the cares of the household on her own 
 shoulders." 
 
 Then, the architect related how " he had settled those jokers 
 of the Ministry of Public Instruction." 
 
 "Just fancy, my dear fellow, they made no end of a fuss about 
 the work I've done at Evreux. You see, I wished above all to 
 please the bishop. Only, the range for the new kitchens and 
 the heating apparatus have come to more than twenty thousand 
 francs. No credit was voted for them, and it is not easy to get 
 twenty thousand francs out of the small sum allowed for re- 
 pairs. Besides that, the pulpit, for which I had received three 
 thousand francs, came to close upon ten thousand : making an- 
 other seven thousand francs to provide somehow or other. So 
 that they sent for me to the Ministry this morning, where a 
 great stick of a fellow commenced by giving me a fine blowing 
 up. Ah! but it was no go! I don't care for that sort of thing! 
 So I quietly shut him up by threatening to send for the bishop 
 to explain the matter himself. And he at once became so 
 polite, oh ! so polite ! see, it even makes me laugh now ! You 
 know they've an awful fear of the bishops just at present. When 
 I've a bishop with me, I might demolish Notre-Dame and build 
 it up again, I don't care a straw for the government ! " 
 
 They laughed all round the table, without the least respect 
 for the Ministry, of which they spoke with disdain, their mouths 
 full of rice. Rose declared that it was best to be on the side of 
 religion. Ever since the works at Saint-Roch, Achille was 
 overwhelmed with orders : the greatest families would employ 
 no one else, it was impossible for him to attend to them all, he 
 would have to work all night as well as all day. God wished
 
 PIPING HOT ! 277 
 
 them well, most decidedly, and the family returned thanks to 
 Him, both night and morning. 
 
 They were having dessert, when Campardon exclaimed : 
 
 " By the way, my dear fellow, you know that Duveyrier has 
 found" 
 
 He was about to name Clarisse. But he recollected that 
 Angele was present, so, casting a side glance towards his 
 daughter, he added : 
 
 " He has found his relative, you know." 
 
 And, biting his lip and winking his eye, he at length made 
 himself understood by Octave, who at first did not in the least 
 catch what he meant. 
 
 " Yes, Trublot whom I met, told me so. The day before 
 yesterday, when it was pouring in torrents, Duveyrier stood up 
 inside a doorway, and who do you think he saw there 1 why his 
 relative shaking out her umbrella. Trublot had been seeking 
 her for a week past, so as to restore her to him." 
 
 Angele had modestly lowered her eyes on to her plate, and 
 began swallowing enormous mouthfuls. The family rigorously 
 excluded all indecent words from their conversation. 
 
 " Is she good looking ? " asked Rose of Octave. 
 
 "That's a matter of taste," replied the latter. "Some people 
 may think so." 
 
 " She had the audacity to come to the shop one day," said 
 Gasparine, who, in spite of her own skinniness, detested thin 
 people. " She was pointed out to me. A regular bean-stalk." 
 
 "All the same," concluded the architect, "Duveyrier's hooked 
 again. His poor wife " 
 
 He intended eaying that Clotilde was probably relieved and 
 delighted. Only, he remembered a second time that Angele 
 was present, and put on a doleful air to declare : 
 
 " Relations do not always agree together. Yes ! every family 
 has its worries. 
 
 Lisa, on the other side of the table, with a napkin on her 
 arm, looked at Angele, and the latter, seized with a mad fit of 
 laughter, hastened to take a long drink, and hide her face in 
 her glass. 
 
 A little before ten o'clock, Octave pretended to be very 
 fatigued, and retired to his room. In spite of Rose's affectionate 
 ways, he was ill at ease in that family circle, where he felt 
 Gasparine's hostility to him to be ever on the increase. Yet he 
 had never done anything to her. She detested him for being a 
 handsome man, she suspected him of having overcome all the
 
 278 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 women of the house, and that exasperated her, though she did 
 not desire him the least in the world, but merely yielded, at the 
 thought of his happiness, to the instinctive anger of a woman 
 whose beauty had faded too soon. 
 
 Directly he had left, the family talked of retiring for the 
 night. Before getting into bed, Rose spent an hour in her 
 dressing-room every evening. She proceeded to wash and scent 
 herself all over, then did her hair, examined her eyes, her mouth, 
 her ears, and even placed a tiny patch under her chin. At 
 night-time, she replaced her luxury of dressing-gowns by a 
 luxury of night-caps and chemises. On that occasion, she 
 selected a chemise and a cap trimmed with Valenciennes lace. 
 Gasparine had assisted her, handing her the basins, wiping up 
 the water she spilt, drying her with a soft towel, little things 
 which she did far better than Lisa. 
 
 "Ah ! I do feel comfortable !" said Rose at length, stretched 
 out in her bed, whilst the cousin tucked in the sheets and 
 raised the bolster. 
 
 And she laughed with delight, all alone in the middle of the 
 big bed. With her soft, delicate, and spotless body, reclining 
 amidst the lace, she looked like some beautiful creature, await- 
 ing the idol of her heart. When she felt herself pretty, she 
 slept better, she used to say. Besides, it was the only pleasure 
 left her. 
 
 "Is it all right?" asked Campardon, entering the room. 
 " Well ! good-night, little duck." 
 
 He pretended he had some work to do. He would have to 
 sit up a little longer. But she grew angry, she wished him to 
 take some rest : it was foolish to work himself to death like 
 that! 
 
 " You hear me, now go to bed. Gasparine, promise me to 
 make him go to bed." 
 
 The cousin, who had just placed a glass of sugar and water, 
 and one of Dickens's novels on the night table, looked at her. 
 Without answering, she bent over and said" : 
 
 " You are so nice, this evening ! " 
 
 And she kissed her on both cheeks, with her dry lips and 
 bitter mouth, in the resigned manner of a poor and ugly rela- 
 tion. Campardon, his face very red, and suffering from a diffi- 
 cult digestion, also looked at his wife. His moustache quivered 
 slightly as he kissed her in his turn. 
 
 " Good-night, my little duck." 
 
 " Good-night, my darling. Now, mind you go to bed at once."
 
 HOT 1 279 
 
 " Never fear ! " said Gasparine. " If he's not in bed asleep 
 at eleven o'clock, I'll get up and put his lamp out." 
 
 Towards eleven o'clock, Campardon, who was yawning over a 
 Swiss cottage, the fancy of a tailor of the Rue Rameau, rose 
 from his seat and undressed himself slowly, thinking of Rose, 
 so pretty and so clean ; then, after opening his bed, on account 
 of the servants, he went and joined Gasparine in hers. It was 
 so narrow that they slept very uncomfortably in it, and their 
 elbows were constantly digging into each other's ribs. He 
 especially always had one leg quite .stiff in the morning, through 
 his efforts to balance himself on the edge of the mattress. 
 
 At the same time, as Victoire had gone to her room, having 
 finished her washing up, Lisa came, in accordance with her 
 usual custom, to see if mademoiselle required anything more. 
 Angele was waiting for her comfortably in bed ; and thus, every 
 evening, unknown to the parents, they had endless games at 
 cards, on a corner of the counterpane which they spread out for 
 the purpose. They played at beggar-my-neighbour, while 
 abusing cousin Gasparine, a dirty creature, whom the maid 
 coarsely pulled to pieces before the child. They both avenged 
 themselves for their hypocritical submission during the day, 
 and Lisa took a low delight in this corruption of Angele, and in 
 satisfying the curiosity of this sickly girl, agitated by the crisis 
 of her thirteen years. That night, they were furious with 
 Gasparine who, for two days past, had taken to locking up the 
 sugar, with which tlie maid filled her pockets, to empty them 
 afterwards on the child's bed. What a bear she was ! now 
 they were not even able to get a lump of sugar to suck, when 
 going to sleep ! 
 
 " Yet your papa gives her plenty of sugar ! " said Lisa, with 
 a sensual laugh. 
 
 " Oh ! yes ! " murmured Angele laughing also. 
 
 " What does your papa do to her ? Come, show me." 
 
 Then, the child caught the maid round the neck, pressed her 
 in her bare arms, and kissed her violently on the mouth, saying 
 as she did so : 
 
 " See ! like this. See ! like this." 
 
 Midnight struck. Campardon and Gasparine were moaning 
 in their over narrow bed, whilst Rose, stretching herself out in 
 the middle of hers, and extending her limbs, was reading 
 Dickens, with tears of emotion. A profound silence followed, 
 the chaste night cast its shadow over the respectability of the 
 family.
 
 280 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 On going up to his room, Octave found that the Pichons had 
 company. Jules called him in, and persisted on his taking a 
 glass of something. Monsieur and Madame Vuillaume were 
 there, having made it up with the young couple, on the occa- 
 sion of Marie's churching, she having been confined in 
 September. They had even agreed to come to dinner one 
 Tuesday, to celebrate the young woman's recovery, which only 
 fully dated from the day before. Anxious to pacify her mother, 
 whom the sight of the child, another girl, annoyed, she had sent 
 it out to nurse, not far from Paris. Lilitte was sleeping on the 
 table, overcome by a glass of pure wine, which her parents had 
 forced her to driuk to her little sister's health, 
 
 " Well ! two may still be put up with ! " said Madame 
 Vuillaume, after clinking glasses with Octave. " Only don't 
 do it again, son-in-law." 
 
 The others all laughed. But the old woman remained per- 
 fectly grave. 
 
 " There is nothing laughable in that," she c Dntinued. " We ac- 
 cept this child, but I swear to you that if another were to come " 
 
 " Oh ! if another came," finished Monsieur Vuillaume, " you 
 would have neither heart nor brains. Dash it all ! one must be 
 serious in life, one should restrain oneself, when one has not got 
 hundreds and thousands to spend in pleasures." 
 
 And, turning towards Octave, he added : 
 
 " You see, sir, I am decorated. Well ! I may tell you that, 
 so as not to dirty too many ribbons, I don't wear my decoration at 
 home. Therefore, if I deprive my wife and myself of the pleasure 
 of being decorated in our own home, our children can certainly 
 deprive themselves of the pleasure of having daughters. No, 
 sir, there are no little economies." 
 
 But the Pichons assured him of their obedience. They were 
 not likely to be caught at that game again ! 
 
 " To suffer what I've suffered ! " said Marie still quite pale. 
 
 " I would sooner cut my leg off," declared Jules. 
 
 The Vuillaumes nodded their heads with a satisfied air. 
 They had their word, so they forgave them that time. And, as 
 ten was striking by the clock, they tenderly embraced all round ; 
 and Jules put on his hat to see them to the omnibus. This 
 resumption of the old ways affected them so much that they 
 embraced a second time on the landing. When they had taken 
 their departure, Marie, who stood watching them go down, 
 leaning over the balustrade, beside Octave, took the latter back 
 to the dining-room, saying :
 
 PIPING HOT ! 281 
 
 " Ah ! mamma is not unkind, and she is qxiite right : children 
 are no joke ! " 
 
 She had shut the door, and was clearing the table of the 
 glasses which still lay about. The narrow room, with its 
 smoky lamp, was quite warm from the little family jollification. 
 Lilitte continued to slumber on a corner of the American cloth. 
 
 " I'm off to bed," murmured Octave. 
 
 But he sat down, feeling very comfortable there. 
 
 " What ! going to bed already ! " resumed the young woman. 
 "You don't often keep such good hours. Have you something 
 to see to then early to-morrow ? " 
 
 " No," answered he. " I feel sleepy, that is all. Oh ! I can 
 very well stay another ten minutes or so." 
 
 He just then thought of Berthe. She would not be coming 
 up till half-past twelve : he had plenty of time. And this 
 thought, the hope of having her with him for a whole night, 
 which had been consuming him for weeks past, no longer had 
 the same effect on him. The fever of the day, the torment of 
 his desire counting the minutes, evoking the continual image 
 of approaching bliss, gave way beneath the fatigue of waiting. 
 
 "Will you have another small glass of brandy?" asked 
 Marie. 
 
 "Well ! yes, I don't mind." 
 
 He thought that it would set him up a bit. When she had 
 taken the glass from him, he caught hold of her hands, and 
 held them in his, whilst she smiled, without the least alarm. 
 He thought her charming, with her paleness of a woman who 
 had recently gone through a deal of suffering. All the hidden 
 tenderness with which he felt himself again invaded, ascended 
 with sudden violence to his throat, and to his lips. He had 
 one evening restored her to her husband, after placing a father's 
 kiss upon her brow, and now he felt a necessity to take her 
 back again, an acute and immediate longing, in which all de- 
 sire for Berthe vanished, like something too distant to dwell 
 upon. 
 
 " You are not afraid then, to-day ? " asked he, squeezing her 
 hands tighter. 
 
 " No, since it has now become impossible. Oh ! we shall 
 always be good friends ! " 
 
 And she gave him to understand that she knew everything. 
 Saturnin must have spoken. Moreover, she always noticed 
 when Octave received a certain person in his room. As he 
 turned pale with anxiety, she hastened to ease his mind : she
 
 282 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 would never say a word to any one, she was not angry, on the 
 contrary she wished him much happiness. 
 
 " Come," repeated she, " I'm married so I can't bear you any 
 ill-will." 
 
 He took her on his knees and exclaimed : 
 
 " But it's you who I love ! " 
 
 And he spoke truly. At that moment he loved her and only 
 her and with an absolute and infinite passion. All his new in- 
 trigue, the two months spent in pursuing another, were as 
 naught. He again beheld himself in that narrow room, coming 
 and kissing Marie on the neck, behind Jules's back, ever finding 
 her willing, with her passive gentleness. This was true happi- 
 ness, how was it that he had disdained it ? Regret almost 
 broke his heart He still wished for her, and he felt that if he 
 had her no more he would be eternally miserable. 
 
 " Let me be," murmured she, trying to release herself. 
 "You are not reasonable, you will end by grieving me. Now 
 that you love another what is the use of continuing to torment 
 me ? " 
 
 She defended herself thus, in her gentle and irresolute way, 
 merely feeling a certain repugnance for what did not amuse her 
 much. But he was getting crazy, he squeezed her tighter, he 
 kissed her throat through the coarse material of her woollen 
 dress. 
 
 " It's you who I love, yoxi cannot understand Listen ! on 
 what I hold most sacred, I swear to you I do not lie. Tear my 
 heart open and see. Oh ! I implore you, be kind ! " 
 
 Marie paralysed by the will of this man made a movement as 
 though to take slumbering Lilitte into the next apartment; but 
 he prevented her, fearing that she would awaken the child. 
 The peacefulness of the house, at that hour of the night, filled 
 the little room with a sort of buzzing silence. Suddenly, the 
 lamp went down, and they were about to find themselves in the 
 dark, when Marie, rising, was just in time to wind it up again. 
 
 "Are you angry with me?" asked Octave with tender 
 gratitude. 
 
 She lett off attending to the lamp, and returned him a last 
 kiss with her cold lips as she replied : 
 
 " No. But it is not right all the same, on account of that 
 other person." 
 
 Tears filled her eyes, and she remained sad, though still with- 
 out anger. When he left her, he felt dissatisfied, he would 
 have liked to have gone to sleep. His gratified passion had
 
 OCTAVE RENEWING HIS VOAVS OF LOVE TO MAKIE. 
 
 p. 282.
 
 PIPING HOT I 283 
 
 left an unpleasant after taste, of which his mouth retained all 
 the bitterness. But the other one would be there shortly, he 
 must wait for her, and this thought weighed terribly on him ; 
 after having spent feverish nights in concocting extravagant 
 plans for getting her to visit him in his room, he longed for 
 something to happen which would prevent her from coming up. 
 Perhaps she would once again fail to keep her word. It was a 
 hope with which he scarcely dared delude himself. 
 
 Midnight struck. Octave, quite tired out, stood listening, 
 fearing to hear the rustling of her skirts along the narrow 
 passage. At half past twelve, he was seized with real anxiety ; 
 at one o'clock, he thought himself saved, but a secret irritation 
 mingled with his relief, the annoyance of a man made a fool of by 
 a woman. But, just as he made up his mind to undress him- 
 self, yawning for want of sleep, there came three gentle taps at 
 the door. It was Berthe. He felt both annoyed and flattered, 
 and advanced to meet her with open arms, when she motioned 
 him aside, and stood trembling and listening against the door, 
 which she had hastily shut after her. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " asked he in a low voice. 
 
 " I don't know, I was frightened," stammered she. " It is 
 so dark on the stairs, I thought that somebody was following 
 me. Dear me ! how stupid all this is ! Some harm is sure to 
 happen to us." 
 
 This chilled them both. They did not even kiss each other. 
 Yet she was charming in her white dressing-gown, and with her 
 golden hair rolled up on the back of her head. He looked at 
 her, and thought her much prettier than Marie ; but he no 
 longer desired her ; it was a nuisance. She had dropped on to 
 a chair to take breath ; and she suddenly affected to be angry 
 on beholding a box on the table, which she at once guessed con- 
 tained the lace shawl she had been talking about for a week 
 past. 
 
 " I am going back," said she without leaving her chair. 
 
 " What, you are going 1 " 
 
 " Do you think I sell myself? You are always hurting my 
 feelings ; you have again spoilt all my pleasure to-night. Why 
 did you buy it, when I forbade you to do so 1 " 
 
 She got up, and at length consented to look at it. But, 
 when she opened the box, she experienced such a disappoint- 
 ment, that she could not restrain this indignant exclamation : 
 
 " What ! it is not Chantilly at all, it is llama ! " 
 
 Octave, who was reducing his presents, had yielded to a
 
 284 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 miserly idea. He tried to explain to her that there was some 
 superb llama, quite equal to Chantilly ; and he praised up the 
 article, just as though he had been behind his counter, making 
 her feel the lace, and swearing that it would last her for ever. 
 But she shook her head, and silenced him by observing con- 
 temptuously, 
 
 " The long and short of it is, this costs one hundred francs, 
 whereas the other would have cost three hundred." 
 
 And, seeing him turn pale, she added, so as to soften her words, 
 
 " You are very kind all the same, and I am much obliged to 
 you. It is not the value which makes the present, when one's 
 intention is good." 
 
 She sat down again, and a pause ensued. She was still quite 
 upset by her silly fright on the stairs ! And she returned to 
 her misgivings with respect to Eachel, relating how she had 
 found Auguste whispering with the maid behind a door. Yet, 
 it would have been so easy to have bought the girl over by 
 it giving her a five franc piece from time to time. But to do this 
 was necessary to have some five franc pieces ; she never had one, 
 she had nothing. Her voice became harsh, the llama shawl 
 which she no longer alluded to was working her up to such a 
 pitch of rancour and despair, that she ended by picking the 
 quarrel with her lover which had already existed so long be- 
 tween her and her husband. 
 
 " Come, now, is it a life worth living ? never a sou, always at 
 any one's mercy for the least thing ! Oh ! I've had enough of 
 it, I've had enough of it ! " 
 
 Octave, who was pacing the room, stopped short to ask her : 
 
 " But why do you tell me all this ? " 
 
 " Eh ? sir, why ? But there are things which delicacy alone 
 ought to tell you, without my being made to blush by having 
 to discuss such matters with you. Ought you not, long ere 
 now, and without having to be told, to have made me easy by 
 bringing this girl to our feet ? " 
 
 She paused, then she added in a tone of disdainful irony, 
 
 " It would not have ruined you." 
 
 There was another silence. The young man, who was again 
 pacing the room, at length replied, 
 
 " I am not rich, and I regret it for your sake." 
 
 Then matters went from bad to worse, the quarrel assumed 
 quite conjugal violence. 
 
 " Say that I love you for your money ! " cried she, with all 
 the bluntness of her mother, whose very words seemed to come
 
 PIPING HOT ! 286 
 
 to her lips. " I am a money-loving woman, am I not ? Well ! 
 yes, I am a money-loving woman, because I am a sensible 
 woman. It is no use your pretending the contrary ; money will 
 ever be money in spite of everything. As for me, whenever I 
 have had twenty sous, I have always pretended that I had 
 forty, for it is better to create envy than pity." 
 
 He interrupted her to say in a weary voice, like a man who 
 only desires peace, 
 
 " Listen, if it annoys you so much that it's a llama shawl, T 
 will give you one in Chantilly." 
 
 " Your shawl ! " continued she in a regular fury, " why, I've 
 already forgotten all about your shawl ! The other things are 
 what exasperate me, understand ! Oh ! moreover, you're just 
 like my husband. You wouldn't care a bit if I hadn't a pair of 
 boots to go out in. Yet when one loves a woman, good-nature 
 alone should prompt one to feed and dress her. But no man 
 will ever understand that. Why, between the two of you, you 
 would soon let me go out with nothing on but my chemise, if I 
 was agreeable ! " 
 
 Octave, tired out by this domestic squabble, decided not to 
 answer, having noticed that Auguste sometimes got rid of her 
 in that way. He let pass the flow of words, and thought of the 
 ill-luck of his amours. Yet he had ardently desired this one, 
 even to the point of upsetting all his calculations ; and, now 
 that she was in his room, it was to quarrel with him, to make 
 him pass a sleepless night, as though they had already left six 
 months of married life behind them. 
 
 " Let's go to bed," said he at length. " We promised our- 
 selves so much happiness ! It is excessively stupid to waste 
 time in saying disagreeable things to one another." 
 
 And, full of conciliation, without desire, but polite, he tried 
 to kiss her. She pushed him away, and burst into tears. Then, 
 despairing of winning her round, he took off his boots in a rage, 
 decided on going to bed without her. 
 
 "Go on, reproach me also with my outings," stammered she 
 in the midst of her sobs. "Accuse me of being too great an 
 expense to you. Oh 1 I see clearly now ; it's all on account of 
 that wretched present.. If you could shut me up in a box, you 
 would do so. I have lady friends ; I go to call on them ; that 
 is no crime. And as for mamma " 
 
 " For heaven's sake leave your mamma alone," interrupted 
 Octave ; "and allow me to tell you that she has given you a 
 precious bad temper."
 
 286 PIPING HOT! 
 
 She mechanically commenced to undress herself, and becom- 
 ing more and more excited, she raised her voice. 
 
 " Mamma has always done her duty. It's not for you to 
 speak of her here. I forbid you to mention her name. It only 
 remained for you to attack my family ! " 
 
 Finding a difficulty in undoing the string of her petticoat, 
 she broke it. Then, seating herself on the edge of the bed, her 
 bosom heaving with anger in the midst of the surrounding lace 
 of her chemise, she continued : 
 
 " Ah ! how I regret my weakness, sir ! how one would reflect, 
 if one could only foresee everything ! " 
 
 Octave, who had made a show of lying with his face to the 
 wall, suddenly bounced round, exclaiming, 
 
 " What ! you regret having loved me ? " 
 
 " Most certainly, a man incapable of understanding a woman's 
 heart ! " 
 
 And they looked at each other close together, with hardened 
 faces, quite devoid of love. 
 
 " Ah ! good heavens ! if it were only to come over again ! " 
 added she. 
 
 " You would take another, wouldn't you ? " said he brutally 
 and in a very loud voice. 
 
 She was about to answer in the same exasperated tone, when 
 there came a sudden hammering at the door. Not understand- 
 ing at first what it meant, they remained immovable and their 
 blood seemed to freeze in their veins. A hollow voice said, 
 
 " Open the door, I can hear you at your dirty tricks. Open, 
 or I will burst it in ! " 
 
 It was the husband's voice. Still the lovers did not move, 
 their heads were filled with such a buzzing that they could think 
 of nothing ; and they felt very cold, just like coi'pses. Eerthe 
 at length jumped from the bed, with an instinctive desire to fly 
 from her lover, whilst, on the other side of the door, Auguste 
 repeated : 
 
 " Open ! open I say ! " 
 
 Then ensued a terrible confusion, an inexpressible anguish. 
 Berthe turned about the room in a state of distraction, seeking 
 for some outlet, with a fear of death which made her turn 
 ghastly pale. Octave, whose heart jumped to his mouth at 
 each blow, had gone and mechanically leant against the door, as 
 though to strengthen it. The noise was becoming unbearable, 
 the fool would wake the whole house up, he would have to open 
 the door. But, when she understood his determination, she
 
 PIPING HOT! 287 
 
 hung on to his arms, imploring him with terrified eyes : no, 
 no, mercy ! the other would rush upon them with a pistol or a 
 knife. He, as pale as herself, and partly overcome by her fright, 
 slipped on his trousers and beseeched her to dress herself. 
 Still bewildered, she only managed to put on her stockings. 
 All this time, the husband continued his uproar. 
 
 " You won't, you don't answer. Very well, you'll see." 
 
 Ever since he had last paid his rent, Octave had been asking 
 his landlord for some slight repairs, two new screws in. the 
 staple of his lock, which scarcely held to the wood. Suddenly 
 the door cracked, the staple yielded, and Auguste, unable to 
 stop himself, rolled into the middle of the room. 
 
 " Damnation ! " swore he. 
 
 He simply held a key in his hand, which was bleeding through 
 becoming grazed in his fall. When he got up, livid, and filled 
 with rage and shame at the thought of his ridiculous entry, he 
 hit out into space, and wished to spring upon Octave. But the 
 latter, in spite of the awkwardness of being barefooted and hav- 
 ing his trousers all awry, seized him by the wrists, and, being 
 the stronger of the two, mastered him, at the same time ex- 
 claiming : 
 
 " Sir, you are violating my domicile. It is disgraceful, you 
 should act like a gentleman." 
 
 And he almost beat him. During their short struggle, Berthe 
 had made off in her chemise by the door which had remained 
 wide open ; she fancied she beheld a kitchen knife in her hus- 
 band's bleeding fist, and she seemed to feel the cold steel be- 
 tween her shoulders. As she rushed along the dark passage, 
 she thought she heard the sound of blows, without being able to 
 make out who had dealt them, or who received them. Voices 
 which she no longer recognised were saying : 
 
 " I am at your service, whenever you please." 
 
 " Very well, you will hear from me." 
 
 With a bound, she gained the servants' staircase. But when 
 she had rushed down the two flights, as though there had been 
 the flames of a conflagration behind her, she found the kitchen 
 door locked, and remembered she had left the key upstairs in 
 the pocket of her dressing-gown. Moreover, there was no lamp, 
 not the least glimmer of a light beneath the door : it was evi- 
 dently the servant who had sold them. Without stopping to 
 take breath, she tore upstairs again, passing once more before 
 the passage leading to Octave's room, where the two men's 
 voices still continued in violent altercation.
 
 288 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 They were going on abusing each other, she would have time 
 perhaps. And she rapidly descended the grand staircase, with 
 the hope that her husband had left their outer door open. She 
 Avould bolt herself in her loom, and open to nobody. But there 
 for the second time she encountered a locked door. Then, shut 
 out from her home, with scarcely a covering to her body, she 
 lost her head, and scampered from floor to floor, like some 
 hunted animal which knows not where to take earth. She 
 would never have the courage to knock at her parents' door. 
 At one moment, she thought of taking refuge with the door- 
 keepers ; but shame drove her upstairs again. Shelistened, raised 
 her head, bent over the handrail, her ears deafened by the beat- 
 ing of her heart in the profound silence, her eyes blinded by 
 lights which seemed to shoot out from the dense obscurity. 
 And it was always the knife, the knife in Auguste's bleeding 
 fist, the icy cold point of which was about to pierce her. Sud- 
 denly, there was a noise, she fancied he was coming, and 
 she shivered to her very marrow ; and, as she was opposite the 
 Campardons' door, she rang desperately, furiously, almost 
 breaking the bell. 
 
 " Good heavens ! is the house on fire ? " asked an agitated 
 voice inside. 
 
 The door opened at once. It was Lisa, who was only then 
 leaving mademoiselle, walking softly, and with a candlestick in 
 her hand. The mad ringing of the bell had made her start, 
 just as she was crossing the anteroom. When she caught sight 
 of Berthe in her chemise, she stood rooted to the spot. 
 
 " What's the matter 1 " asked she. 
 
 The young woman had entered, violently slamming the door 
 behind her ; and, panting and leaning against the wall, she 
 stammered out : 
 
 " Hush ! keep quiet ! He wants to kill me." 
 
 Lisa was trying to get a sensible explanation from her, when 
 Campardon appeared, looking very anxious. This incompre- 
 hensible uproar had disturbed Gasparine and him in their nar- 
 row bed. He had simply slipped on his trousers, and his fat 
 face was swollen and covered with perspiration, whilst his yel- 
 low beard was quite flaccid and full of the white down of the 
 pillow. He was all out of breath, and endeavouring to assume 
 the assurance of a husband who sleeps alone. 
 
 "Is that you, Lisa?" called he from the drawing-room. 
 " It's absurd ! How is it you're not upstairs ? " 
 
 " I was afraid I had not fastened the door properly, sir ; I
 
 BERTHE'S FLIGHT DOWN THE GRAND STAIRCASE. 
 
 p. 288.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 289 
 
 could not sleep for thinking of it, so I came down to make sure. 
 But it's madame " 
 
 The architect, seeing Berthe leaning against the wall of his 
 anteroom with nothing but her chemise on, stood lost in amaze- 
 ment also. Barthe forgot how scantily she was clad. 
 
 " Oh ! sir, keep me here," repeated she. " He wants to kill 
 me." 
 
 " Who does 1 " asked he. 
 
 " My husband." 
 
 The cousin now put in an appearance behind the architect. 
 She had taken time to don a dress ; and, her hair all untidy 
 and also full of down, her breast flat and hanging, her bones 
 almost protruding through her garment, she brought with her 
 the rancour arising from her interrupted repose. The sight of 
 the young woman, of her plump and delicate nudity, only in- 
 creased her ill-humour. 
 
 " Whatever have you done then to your husband ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 At this simple question Berthe was overcome by a great 
 shame. She remembered she was half-naked, and blushed from 
 head to foot. In this long thrill of shame, she crossed her 
 arms over her bosom, as though to escape the glances directed 
 at her. And she stammered out : 
 
 " He found me he caught me " 
 
 The two others understood, and looked at each other with in- 
 dignation in their eyes. Lisa, whose candle lighted up the 
 scene, pretended to share her master's reprehension. At this 
 moment, however, the explanation was interrupted by Angele 
 also hastening to the spot; and she pretended to have just 
 woke up, rubbing her eyes heavy with sleep. The sight of the 
 lady with nothing on her but a chemise suddenly brought her 
 to a standstill, with a jerk, a quivering of her precocious young 
 girl's slender body. 
 
 "Oh !" she simply exclaimed.. 
 
 " It's nothing, go back to bed ! " cried her father. 
 
 Then, understanding that some sort of story was necessary, 
 he related the first that came into his head ; but it was really 
 too ludicrous. 
 
 "Madame sprained her ankle coming downstairs, so she's 
 come here for assistance. Go back to bed, you'll catch cold ! " 
 
 Lisa choked back a laugh on encountering Augele's wide open 
 eyes, as the latter returned to her bed, all rosy and quite de- 
 lighted at having seen such a sight. For some minutes past, 
 
 T
 
 290 PIPING HOT! 
 
 Madame Campardon had been calling from her room. She had 
 not put her light out, being so interested in her Dickens, and 
 she wished to know what had happened. What did it all 
 mean 1 who was there 1 why did not some one come to set her 
 mind at rest? 
 
 "Come, madame," said the architect, taking Berthe with him. 
 " And you, Lisa, wait a minute." 
 
 In the bedroom, Rose was still spread out in the middle of 
 the big bed. She throned there with her queenly luxury, her 
 quiet serenity of an idol. She was deeply affected by what she 
 had read, and she had placed the book on her breast, with the 
 heavings of which it gently rose and fell. When the cousin in 
 a few words had made her acquainted with what had taken 
 place, she also appeared to be scandalized. How could one go 
 with a man who was not one's husband? and she was filled with 
 disgust for that which was denied to her. But the architect 
 now cast confused glances at the young woman; and this ended 
 by making Gasparine blush. 
 
 " It is shocking ! " cried she. " Cover yourself up, madame, 
 for it is really shocking ! Pray cover yourself up ! " 
 
 And she herself threw a shawl of Rose's over Berthe's 
 shoulders, a large knitted woollen shawl which was lying about. 
 It did not reach to her knees, however, and in spite of himself, the 
 architect's eyes wandered over the young woman's person. 
 
 Berthe was still trembling. Though she was in safety, she 
 kept starting and looking towards the door. Her eyes were 
 full of tears, and she beseeched this lady who seemed so calm 
 and comfortable as she lay in bed : 
 
 " Oh ! madame, keep me, save me. He wants to kill me." 
 
 A pause ensued. The three were consulting one another 
 with their eyes, without hiding their disapproval of such culp- 
 able conduct. Besides, it was not proper to come in a state of 
 nudity and wake people up after midnight, and perhaps put 
 them to great inconvenience. No, such a thing was not right ; 
 it showed a want of discretion, besides placing them in a very 
 awkward position. 
 
 " We have a young girl here," said Gasparine at length. 
 " Think of our responsibility, madame." 
 
 " You would be better with your parents," insinuated the 
 architect, "and if you will allow me to see you to their door " 
 
 Berthe was again seized with terror. 
 
 " No, no, he is on the stairs, he would kill me." 
 
 And she implored him to let her remain : a chair was all she
 
 PIPING HOT! 291 
 
 needed to wait on till morning ; on the morrow, she would go 
 quietly away. The architect and his wife would have consented, 
 he won over by such tender charms, she interested by the drama 
 of this surprise in the middle of the night. But Gasparine re- 
 mained inflexible. Yet she had her curiosity to satisfy, and she 
 ended by asking : 
 
 " Wherever were you 1 " 
 
 "Upstairs, in the room at the end of the passage, you know." 
 
 At this, Campardon held up his arms and exclaimed : 
 
 " What ! with Octave, it isn't possible ! " 
 
 With Octave, with that bean-stalk, such a pretty plump little 
 woman! He was annoyed. Rose, also, felt vexed, and was 
 now inclined to be severe. As for Gasparine, she was quite be- 
 side herself, stung to the heart by her instinctive hatred of the 
 young man. He again! she knew very well that he had them all; 
 but, she was certainly not going to be so stupid as to keep them 
 warm for him in her home. 
 
 " Put yourself in our place," resumed she harshly. " I tell 
 you again we have a young girl here." 
 
 " Besides," said Campardon in his turn, " there is the house 
 to be considered, there is your husband, with whom I have always 
 been on the best of terms. He would have a right to be sur- 
 prised. It will never do for us to appear to publicly approve 
 your conduct, madame, oh ! a conduct which I do not permit 
 myself to judge, but which is rather what shall I say? rather 
 indiscreet, is it not ? " 
 
 "We are certainly not going to cast stones at you," continued 
 Rose. " Only, the world is so wicked ! People will say that 
 you had your meetings here. And, you know, my husband 
 works for some very strait-laced people. At the least stain on 
 his morality, he would lose everything. But, allow me to ask 
 you, madame : how is it you were not restrained by religion? 
 The Abbe" Mauduit was talking to us of you quite paternally, 
 only the day before yesterday." 
 
 Berthe turned her head about between the three of them, 
 looking at the one who spoke, in a bewildered sort of way. In 
 the midst of her fright, she was beginning to understand, she 
 felt surprised at being there. Why had she rang, what was she 
 doing amongst these people whom she disturbed ? She saw 
 them clearly now, the wife occupying the whole width of the 
 bed, the husband in his drawers and the cousin in a thin skirt, 
 the pair of them white with the feathers of the same pillow. 
 They were right, it was not proper to tumble amongst people in
 
 292 PIPING HOT! 
 
 that way. And, as the architect pushed her gently towards 
 the anteroom, she went off without even answering Rose's re- 
 ligious regrets. 
 
 "Shall I accompany you as far as your parents' door 1 ?" 
 asked Campardon. " Your place is with them." 
 
 She refused, with a terrified gesture. 
 
 " Then wait a moment, I will take a look up and down the 
 stairs, for I should deeply regret if the least harm happened to 
 you." 
 
 Lisa had remained in the middle of the anteroom, with her 
 candle. He took it, went out on to the landing, and returned 
 almost immediately. 
 
 " I assure you there is no one. Kun up quick." 
 
 Then Berthe, who had not again opened her lips, hastily 
 took off the woollen shawl, and threw it on the floor saying : 
 
 " Here ! this is yours. It's no use keeping it as he's going 
 to kill me ! " 
 
 And she went out into the darkness, with nothing on but 
 her chemise, the same as when she came. Campardon double 
 locked the door in a fury, murmuring the while : 
 
 " Eh ! go and get tumbled elsewhere ! " 
 
 Then, as Lisa burst out laughing behind him, he added : 
 
 " It's true, they'd be coming every night, if one received them. 
 Every one for himself. I would have given her a hundred 
 francs, but my reputation ! no, by Jove ! " 
 
 In the bedroom, Rose and Gasparine were recovering them- 
 selves. Had any one ever seen such a shameless creature ? to 
 walk about the staircase with nothing on ! Really ! there were 
 women who respected nothing, at certain times ! But it was 
 close upon two o'clock, they must get to sleep. And they em- 
 braced again: good-night my darling, good-night my duck. 
 Eh ? was it not nice to love each other, and to always agree 
 together, when one beheld such catastrophes occurring in other 
 families \ Rose again took up her Dickens ; he supplied all 
 her requirements ; she would read a few more pages, then let 
 the book slip into the bed, the same as she did every night, and 
 fall off asleep, weary with emotion. Campardon followed 
 Gasparine, made her get into bed first, and then laid himself 
 down beside her. They both grumbled : the sheets had become 
 cold again, they were not at all comfortable, it would take 
 them another half hour to get warm. 
 
 And Lisa, who before going upstairs had returned to 
 Angele's room, was saying to her :
 
 PIPING HOT! 293 
 
 " The lady has sprained her ankle. Come, show me how she 
 sprained it." 
 
 " Why ! like this ! " replied the child, throwing herself on 
 the maid's neck, and kissing her on her lips. 
 
 Berthe was on the stairs shivering. It was cold, the heating 
 apparatus was not lighted till the beginning of November. 
 Her fright had at length abated. She had gone down and 
 listened at her door: nothing, not a sound. Then she had gone 
 up, not daring to venture as far as Octave's room, but listen- 
 ing from a distance : there was a death-like silence, unbroken 
 by a murmur. Then, she had squatted down on her parents' 
 mat, where she vaguely thought of waiting for Adele, for the 
 ideaof confessing everythingto hermother upset her as much as if 
 she had still been a little girl. But, by degrees, the solemnity of 
 the staircase filled her with a fresh anguish. It was black, it was 
 severe. No one saw her, and yet she was seized with confusion 
 at having nothing on but her chemise amidst the gilded zinc 
 and the imitation marble. From behind the tall mahogany 
 doors, the conjugal dignity of the alcoves seemed to exhale a 
 reproach. Never before had the house breathed with so 
 virtuous a breath. Then, a moonbeam glided through the 
 windows of the landings, and one might have thought the place 
 a church : a peacefulness ascended from the vestibule to the 
 servants' rooms, all the virtues of the middle-classes smouldered 
 in the shadow of the different storeys, whilst her semi-nakedness 
 shone out all white in the pale light. She felt she was a 
 scandal to the walls, she gathered her chemise around her, 
 dreading to see the ghost of Monsieur Gourd appear in his 
 velvet cap and slippers. 
 
 Suddenly, a noise affrighted her, causing her to jump up, 
 and she was about to hammer with both her fists on her 
 mother's door, when some one calling out stopped her. 
 
 It was a voice almost as faint as a zephyr. 
 
 " Madame madame " 
 
 She looked downstairs, but saw nothing. 
 
 "Madame madame it's I." 
 
 And Marie showed herself in her chemise also. She had 
 heard all the disturbance, and had slipped out of bed, leaving 
 Jules asleep, whilst she remained listening in her little dining- 
 room without a light. 
 
 " Come in. You are in trouble. I am a friend." 
 
 She gently reassured her, and told her all that had taken 
 place. The men had not hurt each other : he had cursed and
 
 V 
 
 294 PIPING HOT! 
 
 swore, and pushed the chest of drawers up against his door, to 
 shut himself in ; whilst the other had gone downstairs with a 
 bundle in his hand, the things she had left behind, her shoes 
 and petticoat, which he must have rolled up mechanically in 
 her dressing-gown, on seeing them lying about In short, it 
 was all over. It would be easy enough to prevent them fight- 
 ing on the morrow. 
 
 But Berthe remained standing on the threshold with a 
 remnant of fear and shame at thus entering the abode of a lady 
 whom she did not habitually frequent. Marie was obliged to 
 lead her in by the hand. 
 
 " You will sleep there, on that sofa. I will lend you a shawl, 
 and I will go and see your mother. Good heavens ! what a 
 misfortune ! When one is in love, one does not stop to think." 
 
 " Ah ! for the little pleasure we had ! " said Berthe, with a 
 sigh, which was full of the cruelty and stupidity of her unpro- 
 fitable night. " He does right to swear. If he's like me, he's 
 had more than enough of it ! " 
 
 They were on the point of speaking of Octave. They said 
 nothing further, but suddenly fell sobbing into each other's 
 arms in the dark. Their limbs clasped with a convulsive 
 pcission, their bosoms, hot Avith tears, were pressed close 
 together beneath their cruoapled chemises. It was a final 
 weariness, an immense sadness, the end of everything. They 
 did not say another word, whilst their tears flowed, flowed 
 without ceasing, in the midst of the darkness and of the pro- 
 found slumber of that house so full of decency.
 
 295 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THAT morning, the house awoke with a great middle-class 
 diguity. Nothing of the staircase preserved a trace of the 
 scandals of the night, neither the imitation marble which had 
 reflected that gallop of a woman in her chemise, nor the Wilton 
 carpet from which all the odour of her semi-nudity had 
 evaporated. Monsieur Gourd alone, when he went upstairs 
 owards seven o'clock to give his look round, sniffed at the 
 walls ; but what did not concern him, did not concern him ; 
 and as, on going downstairs again, he saw two of the servants 
 in the courtyard, Lisa and Julie, who were no doubt discussing 
 the catastrophe, for they seemed deeply interested, he stared at 
 them so fixedly that they at once separated. Then he went 
 outside to make sure of the tranquillity of the street. It was 
 calm. Only, the servants must already have been talking, for 
 some of the neighbours' wives stopped, tradespeople came to 
 their shop doors, looking up in the air, examining and searching 
 the different floors, in the gaping way in which the crowd 
 scrutinizes houses where a crime has been committed. In the 
 presence of the rich frontage, however, people held their tongues 
 and politely passed on. 
 
 At half-past seven, Madame Juzeur appeared in a dressing- 
 gown, to look after Louise, she said. Her eyes sparkled, and 
 her hands were feverishly hot. She stopped Marie, who was 
 going up with her milk, and endeavoured to get her to talk ; 
 but she could draw nothing out of her, and did not even learn 
 how the mother had received her guilty daughter. Then, under 
 the pretence of waiting a minute for the postman, she entered 
 the Gourds' room, and ended by asking why Monsieur Octave 
 did not come down ; perhaps he was ill. The doorkeeper replied 
 that he did not know ; moreover, Monsieur Octave never came 
 down before ten minutes past eight. At this moment, the other 
 Madame Campardon, pale and erect, passed by; every one 
 bowed to her. And Madame Juzeur, obliged to go upstairs 
 again, had the luck, on reaching her landing, to meet the
 
 296 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 architect just starting off and putting oil his gloves. At first, 
 they both looked at each other in a dejected sort of way ; then 
 he shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Poor things ! " murmured she. 
 
 " No, no, it serves them right ! " said he ferociously. " An 
 example must be made of them. A fellow whom I introduce 
 into a respectable house, beseeching him not to bring any 
 women there, and who, to humbug me, goes and sleeps with the 
 landlord's sister-in-law ! I look like a fool in it all ! " 
 
 No more was said. Madame Juzeur entered her apartments, 
 whilst Campardon continued on his way downstairs, in such a 
 state of fury that he tore one of his gloves. 
 
 Just as eight o'clock was striking, Auguste, looking very 
 dejected, his features contracted by an atrocious headache, 
 crossed the courtyard to go to his warehouse. Filled with 
 shame, and dreading to meet any one, he had come down by 
 way of the servants' staircase. However, he could not leave his 
 business to take care of itself. When in the midst of his 
 counters, and before the pay-desk where Berthe usually sat, his 
 emotion almost choked him. The porter was taking down 
 the shutters, and Auguste was giving the orders for the day, 
 when the abrupt appearance of Saturnin coming up from 
 the basement gave him an awful fright. The madman's eyes 
 were like flames of fire, his white teeth resembled a famished 
 wolfs. He went straight up to the husband, clenching his 
 fists. 
 
 " Where is she ? If you touch her, I'll bleed you to death 
 like a pig ! n 
 
 Auguste drew back, exasperated. 
 
 " Here's this one, now ! " 
 
 " Shut up, or I'll bleed you ! " repeated Saturnin, making a 
 rush at him. 
 
 Then the husband preferred to beat a retreat. He had a 
 horror of madmen ; one could not reason with such people. 
 But, as he went out into the porch, calling to the porter to shut 
 Saturnin up in the basement, he found himself face to face with 
 Valerie and Theophile. The latter, who had caught a frightful 
 cold, was wrapped up in a big red comforter, and coughed and 
 moaned. They must both have known everything, for they 
 stopped before Auguste with an air of condolence. Since the 
 quarrel about the inheritance, the two couples had been sworn 
 enemies, and were no longer on speaking terms. 
 
 " You still have a brother," said Theophile, shaking him by
 
 PIPING HOT ! 297 
 
 the hand, when he had finished coughing. " I wish you to 
 remember it in your misfortune." 
 
 " Yes," added Valerie, " this ought to avenge me, for she 
 said some filthy things to me, did she not ? But we pity you 
 all the same, for we are not quite heartless." 
 
 Auguste, deeply touched by their kind manner, led them to 
 the end of his warehouse, keeping an eye on Saturnin, who was 
 prowling about. And, there, their reconciliation became com- 
 plete. Berthe's name was not mentioned ; only, Valerie 
 allowed it to be understood that all the unpleasantness arose 
 from that woman, for there had never been a disagreeable word 
 said in the family till she had entered it to dishonour them. 
 Auguste, his eyes cast on the ground, listened and nodded his 
 head approvingly. And a certain gaiety gleamed beneath 
 Theophile's commiseration, for he was delighted at no longer 
 being the only one, and he examined his brother's face to see 
 how a person looks when in that awkward position. 
 
 " Now, what have you decided to do ? " inquired he. 
 
 " To challenge him, of course ! " firmly replied the husband. 
 
 Theophile's joy was spoilt. His wife and he became cooler, 
 in the presence of Augnste's courage./ The latter related to 
 them the frightful scene of the night Mow, having been foolish 
 enough to hesitate purchasing a pistof, he had been forced to 
 content himself with merely slapping the gentleman's face ; and 
 to tell the truth, the gentleman had done the same to him, but 
 that did not prevent his having received a pretty good hiding ! 
 A scoundrel who had been making a fool of him for six months 
 past, by pretending to take his part against his wife, and whose 
 impudence had gone as far as making reports respecting her on 
 the clays she went out ! As for her, the creature, as she had 
 gone to her parents, she could remain with them ; he would 
 never take her back. 
 
 "Would you believe that last month I allowed her three 
 hundred francs for her dress ! " cried he. " I who am so kind, 
 so tolerant, who had decided to put up with everything, sooner 
 than make myself ill ! But one cannot put up with that no ! 
 no ! one cannot ! " 
 
 Theophile was thinking of death. He trembled feverishly, 
 and almost choked as he said : 
 
 " It's absurd, you will get spitted. I would not fight." 
 
 And, as Valerie looked at him, he added in an embarrassed 
 manner : 
 
 <( If such a thing happened to me."
 
 298 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 " Ah ! the wretched woman ! " then murmured his wife, 
 " when one thinks that two men are going to kill each other on 
 account of her ! In her place, I could never sleep again." 
 
 Auguste remained firm. He would fight. Moreover, his 
 plans were settled. As he particularly wished Duveyrier to be 
 his second, he was going up to inform him of what had taken 
 place, and to send him at once to Octave. Theophile should be 
 his other second, if he would consent. The latter was obliged 
 to do so; but his cough suddenly seemed to become much 
 worse, and he put on his peevish air of a sick child who wants 
 to be pitied. He, however, offered to accompany his brother to 
 the Duveyriers'. Though they might be robbers, yet one forgot 
 everything in certain circumstances ; and both he and his wife 
 appeared to be desirous of a general reconciliation, they having, 
 no doubt, reflected that it was not their interest to sulk any 
 longer. Valerie, who was most obliging to Auguste, ended by 
 offering to attend at the pay-desk, to give him time to find a 
 suitable person. 
 
 " Only," added she, " I must take Camille to the Tuileries 
 gardens towards two o'clock." 
 
 " Oh ! it does not matter for once in a way ! " said her 
 husbad. " It's raining, too." 
 
 " No, no, the child wants air. I must go out." 
 
 At length the two brothers went up to the Duveyriers'. But 
 an abominable fit of coughing obliged Theophile to stop on the 
 very first stair. He held on to the hand-rail, and when he was 
 able to speak, though still with a slight rattle in his throat, he 
 stammered : 
 
 " You know, I'm very happy now ; I'm quite sure of her. 
 No, I've not the least thing to reproach her with, and she has 
 given me proofs." 
 
 Auguste stared at him without comprehending, and saw how 
 yellow and half dead he looked with the scanty hairs of his 
 beard drying up in his flabby flesh. This look completed 
 The"ophile's annoyance, whilst he felt quite embarrassed by his 
 brother's valour. 
 
 " I am speaking of my wife," he resumed. " Ah ! poor old 
 fellow, I pity you with all my heart ! You recollect my 
 stupidity on your wedding-day. But with you there can be 
 no mistake, as you saw them." 
 
 " Bah ! " said Auguste doing the brave, " I'll spit him like a 
 lark On my word, I shouldn't care a hang if I hadn't such a 
 headache ! "
 
 PIPING HOT ! 299 
 
 Just as they rang at the Duveyriers' door, The"ophile suddenly 
 thought that very likely the counsellor would not be in, for 
 since the day he had found Clarisse, he had been drifting into 
 bad habits, and had now even got to the point of sleeping out. 
 Hippolyte, who opened the door to them, avoided answering 
 with respect to his master; but he said that the gentlemen 
 would find madame playing her scales. They entered. Clotilde, 
 tightly laced up from the moment she got out of bed, was seated 
 at her piano, practising with a regular and continuous move- 
 ment of her hands ; and, as she went in for this kind of exercise 
 for two hours every day, so as not to lose the lightness of her 
 touch, she occupied her mind in another way, by reading the 
 "Kevue des deux Mondes," which stood open on the piano 
 before her, without the agility of her fingers being in any way 
 hampered. 
 
 " Why ! it's you ! " said she, when her brothers had drawn 
 her from the volley of notes, which isolated and enveloped her 
 like a storm of hail. 
 
 And she did not even show her surprise when she caught 
 sight of Theophile. The latter, moreover, kept himself very 
 stiff, like a man who had come on another's account. Auguste, 
 filled with shame at the thought of telling his sister of his mis- 
 fortune, and afraid of terrifying her with his duel, had a story 
 all ready. But she did not give him time to lie, she questioned 
 him in her quiet way, after looking at him intently. 
 
 " What do you intend doing now 1 " 
 
 He started and blushed. So every one knew it then ? And 
 he answered in the brave tone which had already closed Theo- 
 phile's mouth: 
 
 " Why, fight, of course ! " 
 
 " Ah ! " said she, greatly surprised this time. 
 
 However, she did not disapprove. It would increase the 
 scandal, but yet honour had to be satisfied. She contented 
 herself with recalling that she had at first opposed the marriage. 
 One could expect nothing of a young girl who appeared to be 
 ignorant of all a woman's duties. Then, as Auguste asked her 
 where her husband was : 
 
 " He is travelling," answered she, without the least hesitation. 
 
 Then he was quite distressed, for he did not wish to do any- 
 thing before consulting Duveyrier. She listened to him, with- 
 out mentioning the new address, unwilling to acquaint her 
 family with her home troubles. At length she hit on an ex- 
 pedient : she advised him to go to Monsieur Bachelard in the
 
 300 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 Rue d'Enghien ; perhaps he would be able to tell him some- 
 thing. And she returned to her piano. 
 
 " It's Auguste who asked me to come up," Theophile, who 
 had not spoken until then, thought it necessary to declare. 
 " Will you let me kiss you, Clotilde 1 We are all in trouble." 
 
 She presented her cold cheek, and said : 
 
 " My poor fellow, only those are in trouble who choose to be. 
 As for me, I forgive every one. And take care of yourself, you 
 seem to me to have a very bad cough." 
 
 Then, calling to Auguste, she added : 
 
 " If the matter does not get settled, let me know, for I shall 
 then be very anxious." 
 
 The storm of notes recommenced, enveloping and drowning 
 her; and, whilst her nimble fingers practised the scales in 
 every key, she gravely resumed her reading of the " Revue des 
 deux Mondes," in the midst of it all. 
 
 Downstairs, Auguste for a moment discussed the question 
 whether he should go to Bachelard's or not. How could he 
 say to him : " Your niece has deceived me ] " At length, he 
 decided to obtain Duveyrier's address from the uncle, and to 
 tell him nothing. Everything was settled : Valerie would look 
 after the warehouse, whilst Theophile would watch the home, 
 until his brother's return. The latter had sent for a cab, and 
 he was just going off, when Saturnin, who had disappeared a 
 moment before, came up from the basement with a big kitchen 
 knife, which he flourished about, as he cried : 
 
 " I'll bleed him ! I'll bleed him ! " 
 
 This created another scare. Auguste, turning very pale, 
 jumped precipitately into the cab, and pulled the door to, 
 saying : 
 
 " He's got another knife ! Wherever does he find all those 
 knives! I beseech you, Theophile, send him away, try and 
 arrange that he shall no longer be here when I come back. As 
 though what has already happened were not bad enough for me !" 
 
 The porter had hold of the madman by his shoulders. 
 Valerie told the driver the address. But he, a fat and filthy 
 looking man, with a face the colour of bullock's blood, and still 
 drunk from the night before, did not hurry himself, but took 
 his time to gather up the reins and make himself comfortable 
 on the box. 
 
 " By distance, governor 1 " asked he in a hoarse voice. 
 
 " No, by the hour, and quickly please. There will be some- 
 thing handsome for yourself."
 
 PIPING HOT ! 301 
 
 The cab started off. It was an old landau, both big and 
 dirty, and shaking alarmingly on its worn-out springs. The 
 horse, an enormous white carcass, ambled along with an ex- 
 traordinary waste of strength, jogging his neck, and lifting his 
 hoofs high off the ground. Auguste looked at his watch : it was 
 nine o'clock. The duel might be settled by eleven. At first, 
 the slowness of the vehicle irritated him. Then, little by little, 
 he began to get drowsy ; he had not closed his eyes all night, 
 and that lamentable cab saddened him. When he found him- 
 self alone, rocked inside the rickety vehicle, and half deafened 
 by the rattling of the cracked windows, the fever which had 
 kept him up before his relations, began to calm down. What 
 a stupid adventure it was all the same ! And his face became 
 ashy grey as he pressed his aching head between his hands. 
 
 In the Rue d'Enghien, he met with another vexation. To 
 begin with, the commission agent's doorway was so blocked up 
 with vans that he almost got crushed ; then, he found himself 
 in the courtyard with the glass roof, amidst a crowd of packers 
 all violently nailing up cases, and not one of whom could 
 tell him where Bachelard was. The hammering seemed to 
 split his skull. He was however making up his mind to wait for 
 the uncle, when an apprentice, pitying his suffering look, came 
 and whispered an address in his ear : Mademoiselle Fifi, Rue 
 Saint-Marc, third floor. Old Bachelard was most likely there. 
 
 "Where do you say 1 ?" asked the driver who had fallen asleep. 
 
 " Rue Saint-Marc, and a little faster, if it's possible." 
 
 The cab resumed its funereal crawl. On the boulevards, the 
 wheel caught in an omnibus. The panels cracked, the springs 
 uttered plaintive cries, a gloomy melancholy more and more 
 overcame the husband in search of his second. However, they 
 at last reached the Rue Saint-Marc. 
 
 On the third floor, the door was opened by a little old woman, 
 plump and white. She seemed suffering from some strong- 
 emotion, and she admitted Auguste directly he asked for Mou- 
 sieur Bachelard. 
 
 " Ah ! sir, you are one of his friends, surely. Pray try to 
 calm him. Something happened to vex him a little while ago, 
 the poor dear man. You know me no doubt, he must have 
 spoken to you of me : I am Mademoiselle Menu." 
 
 Auguste, feeling quite scared, found himself in a narro\v 
 room overlooking the courtyard, and as clean and peaceful as a 
 country home. One could almost detect the odour of order 
 and work, the purity of the happy existence of people in a quiet
 
 302 PIPING HOT! 
 
 way. Seated before an embroidery frame, on which a priest's 
 stole was stretched, a fair young girl, pretty and having a can- 
 did air, was weeping bitterly ; whilst uncle Bachelard, standing 
 up, his nose inflamed, his eyes bloodshot, was drivelling with 
 rage and despair. He was so upset, that Auguste's entry did 
 not appear to surprise him in the least. He immediately 
 called upon him to bear witness, and the scene continued. 
 
 " Come now, you, Monsieur Vabre, who are an honest man, 
 what would you say in my place ? I arrived here this mornino 1 , 
 a little earlier than usual ; I entered her room with the sugar 
 from the cafe and three four sou pieces, just for a surprise for 
 her, and I find her in bed with that pig Gueulin ! No, there, 
 frankly what would you say 1 " 
 
 Auguste, greatly embarrassed, turned very red. He at first 
 thought that the uncle knew of his misfortune and was making 
 a fool of him. But the other added, without even waiting for a 
 reply : 
 
 " Ah ! listen, mademoiselle, you don't know what it is you 
 have done ! I who was becoming young again, who felt so 
 delighted at having found a nice quiet little nook, where I 
 was once more beginning to believe in happiness! Yes, you 
 were an angel, a flower, in short something fresh which helped 
 me to forget a lot of dirty women. And here you go and sleep 
 with that pig Gueulin ! " 
 
 A genuine emotion contracted his throat, his voice choked in 
 accents of profound suffering. Everthing was crumbling away, 
 and he wept for the loss of the ideal, with the hiccoughs of a 
 remnant of drunkenness. 
 
 "I did not know, uncle," stammered Fifi, whose sobs re- 
 doubled in presence of this pitiful spectacle ; " no, I did not 
 know it would cause you so much grief." 
 
 And indeed she did not look as if she did know. She re- 
 tained her ingenuous eyes, her odour of chastity, the naivete 
 of a little girl unable as yet to distinguish a gentleman from a 
 lady. Aunt Menu, moreover, swore that at heart she was 
 innocent. 
 
 " Do be calm, Monsieur Narcisse. She loves you well all the 
 same. I felt that it would not be very agreeable to you. I 
 said to her: 'If Monsieur Narcisse learns this, he will be 
 annoyed.' But she has scarcely lived as yet, has she ? She 
 does not know what pleases, nor what does not please. Do not 
 weep any more, as her heart is always for you." 
 
 As neither the child nor the uncle listened to her, she turned
 
 PIPING HOT ! 803 
 
 towards Auguste, she told him how much more anxious such 
 an adventure made her feel for her niece's future. It was so 
 difficult to place a young girl decently ! She, who had been 
 thirty years in the employ of Messieurs Mardienne Freres, the 
 embroiderers of the Rue Saint-Sulpice, where one could make 
 inquiries about her, knew at the cost of what privations a work- 
 girl made both ends meet in Paris, when she wished to remain 
 virtuous. In spite of her good nature, though she had received 
 Fanny from the hands of her own brother, Captain Menu, on 
 his death-bed, she could never have been able to bring the child 
 up with the thousand francs life annuity, which now enabled 
 her to relinquish her needle. And she had, therefore, hoped to 
 die in peace on seeing her with Monsieur Narcisse. But not a 
 bit of it Fifi goes and displeases her uncle, just for the sake of 
 a lot of nonsense 1 
 
 " Perhaps you know Villeneuve, near Lille ? " paid she in con- 
 clusion. " I come from there. It is a pretty large town " 
 
 But Auguste's patience was at an end. He shook himself 
 free of the aunt, and turned towards Bachelard whose noisy 
 despair was calming down. 
 
 " I came to ask you for Duveyrier's new address. I suppose 
 you know it." 
 
 " Duveyrier's address, Duveyrier's address," stammered the 
 uncle. " You mean Clarisse's address. Wait a moment." 
 
 And he went and opened the door of Fifi's bedroom. Auguste 
 was greatly surprised on seeing Gueulin, whom the old man 
 had locked in, come forth. He had wished to give him time 
 to dress himself, and also to detain him, so as to decide after- 
 wards what he would do with him. The sight of the young 
 man looking all upset, his hair still unbrushed, revived his 
 anger. 
 
 " What ! wretch ! it's you, my nephew, who dishonours me ! 
 You soil your family, you drag my white hairs in the mire ! 
 Ah ! you'll end badly, we shall see you one of these days in the 
 dock of the assize-court ! " 
 
 Gueulin listened with bowed head, feeling at once both em- 
 barrassed and furious. 
 
 "I say, uncle, you're going too far," murmured he. "There's 
 a limit to everything. I don't think it funny either. Why did 
 you bring me to see mademoiselle ? I never asked you. You 
 dragged me here. You drag everybody here." 
 
 But Bachelard, again overcome with tears continued : 
 
 "You've taken everything from me, I had only her left.
 
 304 PIPING HOT! 
 
 You'll be the cause of my death, and I won't leave yoxi a sou, 
 not a sou ! " 
 
 Then Gueulin, quite beside himself, burst out : 
 
 " Go to the deuce ! I've had enough of it ! Ah ! it's as I've 
 always told you ! here they come, here they come, the annoy- 
 ances of the morrow ! See how it succeeds with me, when for 
 once in a way I've been fool enough to take advantage of an 
 opportunity. Of course ! the night was very pleasant ; but, 
 afterwards, go to blazes ! one will be blubbering like a calf for 
 the rest ot one's life." 
 
 Fifi had dried her tears. "When having nothing to do she at 
 onoe felt bored, and so had taken up her needle again and was 
 embroidering the stole, raising her large pure eyes from time to 
 time to look at the two men, and feeling quite bewildered by 
 their anger. 
 
 "I am in a great hurry," Auguste ventured to observe. 
 " Please give me the address, just the name of the street and 
 the number, I require nothing further." 
 
 " The address," said the uncle, "wait a bit, directly." 
 
 And, carried away by his feelings which were overflowing, he 
 caught hold of Gueulin's hands. 
 
 " You ungrateful fellow, I was keeping her for you, on my 
 word of honour ! I said to myself: If he's good, I'll give her to 
 him. Oh ! in a proper manner, with a dowry of fifty thousand 
 francs. And, you dirty beast ! you can't wait, you go and take 
 her like that, all on a sudden ! " 
 
 " No, let me be ! " said Gueulin, affected by the old chap's 
 kindness of heart " I see very well that the annoyances are 
 going to continue." 
 
 But Bachelard dragged him before the young girl and asked 
 her : 
 
 " Come now, Fifi, look at him : would you have loved him ? " 
 
 " If it would have pleased you, uncle," answered she. 
 
 This kind reply quite broke his heart. He wiped his eyes, 
 blew his nose, and almost choked. Well ! he would see. He 
 had always wished to make her happy. And he suddenly sent 
 Gueulin off about his business. 
 
 " Be off. I will think about it." 
 
 Meanwhile, aunt Menu had again taken Auguste aside to ex- 
 plain her ideas to him. Was it not true 1 a workman would 
 have beaten the child, and a clerk would have given her no end 
 of children. With Monsieur Narcisse, on the contrary, she had 
 the chance of having a dowry which would enable her to marry
 
 PIPING HOT ! 305 
 
 decently. Thank goodness, they belonged to too good a family; 
 the aunt would never have allowed the niece to misconduct her- 
 self, to fall from the arms of one lover into the arms of another. 
 No, she wished her to be in a proper sort of position. 
 
 Just as Gueulin was leaving, Bachelard called him back. 
 
 " Kiss her on the forehead, I permit it." 
 
 And then he went himself and put him outside the door, 
 after which he returned to Auguste, and placing his hand on 
 his heart, he said : 
 
 " It's no joke ; I give you my word of honour that I intended 
 giving her to him, later on." 
 
 " And the address 1 " asked the other, losing all patience. 
 
 The uncle appeared surprised, as though he thought he had 
 answered him before. 
 
 " Eh i what ? Clarisse's address 1 Why, I don't know it." 
 
 Auguste made an angry gesture. Everything was going 
 wrong ; there seemed to be a regular plot to render him 
 ridiculous ! Seeing him so upset, Bachelard made a suggestion. 
 No doubt, Trublot knew the address, and they might find him 
 at his employer's, the stockbroker Desmarquay. And the 
 uncle, with the obliging manner of one accustomed to knock 
 about, offered to accompany his young friend. The latter 
 accepted. 
 
 " Listen ! " said the uncle to Fifi, after kissing her in his 
 turn on the forehead, " here's the sugar from the caf6 all the 
 same, and three four-sou bits for your money-box. Behave 
 well whilst awaiting my orders." ( 
 
 The young girl, looking very modest, continued drawing her 
 needle with exemplary application. A ray of sunshine, coming 
 from over a neighbouring roof, enlivened the little room, gilded 
 this nook of innocence, into which the noise of the passing 
 vehicles did not even penetrate. All the poetry of Bachelard's 
 nature was stirred. 
 
 " May God bless you, Monsieur Narcisse ! " said aunt Menu 
 to him as she saw him to the door. " I am more easy now. 
 Only listen to the dictates of your heart, for it will inspire 
 you." 
 
 The driver had again fallen asleep, and he grumbled when the 
 uncle gave him Monsieur Desmarquay's address in the Rue 
 Saint-Lazare. No doubt the horse was asleep also, for it re- 
 quired quite a hail of blows to get him to move. At length, 
 the cab rolled painfully along. 
 
 " It's hard all the same," resumed the uncle after a pause, 
 
 u
 
 306 PIPING HOT! 
 
 " You can't imagine the effect it had on me when I saw Gueulin 
 in his shirt. No, one must have gone through such a thing to 
 understand it." 
 
 And he went on, entering into every detail, without noticing 
 Au<ruste's increasing uneasiness. At length the latter, feeling 
 his e position becoming falser and falser, told him why he was m 
 such a hurry to find Duveyrier. 
 
 " Berthe with that counter-jumper ! cried the uncle. 
 astonish me, sir ! " 
 
 And it seemed that his astonishment was especially on 
 account of his niece's choice. However, after a little reflection, 
 he became very indignant. His sister Eleonore had a great deal 
 to reproach herself with. He would have nothing more to do 
 with the family. Of course, he was not going to mix himseli 
 up with the duel j but he considered it indispensable. 
 
 "Thus, just now, when I saw Fifi with a man, my first 
 thought was to murder every one. If the same thing should 
 ever happen to you " 
 
 A painful start of Auguste's caused him to interrupt himsell 
 "Ah! true, I was forgetting. My story does not interest 
 
 " 
 
 Another pause ensued, whilst the cab swayed in a melancholy 
 fashion. Auguste, whose valour grew less and less at each turn 
 of he wheel, abandoned himself to the jolts, a cadaverous look on 
 his face his left eye half closed with a headache. Why ever did 
 Bachelard consider the duel indispensable? It was not the 
 Dlace of the culprit's uncle to urge one to shed blood. And his 
 brother's words rang in his ear: "It's stupid, you 11 get your- 
 self spitted :" an obstinate and importunate phrase, which seemed 
 to end by assimilating itself with the very pain of his neuralgia. 
 He would certainly be killed ; he had a presentiment he would ; 
 and this lugubrious attack of feeling completely annihilated 
 him He fancied himself dead, and wept over his own corpse. 
 
 "I told you Rue Saint-Lazare," called out the uncle to the 
 driver " It isn't at Chaillot. Turn to the left" 
 
 At length the cab stopped. Out of prudence they sent up 
 for Trubfot, who came down bareheaded to talk to them in the 
 
 ou know Clarisse's address?" asked Bachelard. 
 "Clarisse's address? Why, of course ! Rue d Assas 
 They thanked him, and were about to re-enter their cab, wh 
 Auguste asked in his turn : 
 "What's the number ? "
 
 PIPING HOT ! 307 
 
 " The number ? Ah ! I don't know the number." 
 
 At this, the husband declared that he preferred to give up 
 seeing Duveyrier altogether. Trublot did all he could to try 
 and remember. He had dined there once, it was just behind 
 the Luxembourg ; but he could not recollect whether it was at 
 the end of the street, or on the right or the left. But he knew 
 the door well ; oh ! he could have said at once, " That's it." 
 Then the uncle had another idea : he begged him to accompany 
 them in spite of Auguste's protestations, and his talking of 
 returning home and not wishing to disturb any one any further. 
 Trublot, however, refused in a constrained manner. No, he 
 would not trust himself in that hole again. And he avoided 
 giving the real reason, a most amazing adventure, a jolly hard 
 slap he had received from Clarisse's new cook, one evening he 
 had gone and pinched her before her range. Could anybody 
 understand such a thing ? a slap for a polite attention, just for 
 the sake of becoming acquainted ! Such a thing had never 
 happened to him before ; he was quite bewildered by it. 
 
 " No, no," said he, seeking an excuse, " I don't intend putting 
 my feet again inside a place where one's bored as one is there. 
 You know Clarisse has become unbearable, something abomin- 
 able, and more the lady than ladies themselves ! Besides that, 
 she has had her family with her, since her father's death quite 
 a tribe of hawkers, the mother, two sisters, a big scoundrel of a 
 brother, and even an invalid aunt ; you know, the sort of people 
 who sell dolls in the streets. You've no idea how dirty and un- 
 happy Duveyrier looks amongst them all ! " 
 
 And he related that on the rainy day, when the counsellor 
 found Clarisso waiting in a doorway, she had been the first to 
 complain, reproaching him, with tears in her eyes, with never 
 having respected her. Yes, she had left the Rue de la Cerisaie 
 exasperated by the suffering which her personal dignity had un- 
 dergone, and which she had for a long while repressed. Why 
 did he always take his decoration off when he came to see her ] 
 Did he happen to think that she would soil his decoration? 
 She was willing to be friends with him again ; but first of all 
 he would have to swear to her on his honour that he would keep 
 his decoration on, for she required his esteem ; she would not 
 have her feelings hurt every moment in that way. And Duvey- 
 rier, discomfited by this quarrel, completely regained, confused 
 and affected, had sworn : she was right ; he considered her very 
 noble-minded. 
 
 " He no longer takes his ribbon off," added Trublot. " I
 
 308 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 think that she makes him sleep with it on. It flatters the girl 
 in the presence of her family. Moreover, fat Payan, having 
 devoured her twenty-five thousand francs' worth of furniture, 
 she has gone in this time for thirty thousand francs' worth. 
 Oh, it's all over ; she's got him down on the ground, under her 
 foot, and his nose in her skirts. What a liking some people 
 have for buttered bun ! " 
 
 " Well, I'm off, as Monsieur Trublot can't come," said Auguste, 
 whose worries were increased by all these stories. 
 
 But Trublot then declared that he would accompany them all 
 the same ; only, he would not go up ; he would merely show 
 them the door. And, after fetching his hat, and giving a 
 pretext for going out, he joined them in the cab. 
 
 " Rue d'Assas," said he to the driver. " Straight down the 
 street ; I'll tell you when to stop." 
 
 The driver swore. Rue d'Assas, by Jove ! there were people 
 who liked going about. However, they would get there when 
 they did get there. The big white horse steamed away without 
 making hardly any progress, his neck dislocated in a painful 
 bow at every step. 
 
 Bachelard was already relating his misfortuneto Trublot. Such 
 things always made him talkative. Yes, with that pig Gueulin, 
 a most delicious little thing ! He had found them both in disha- 
 bille. But at this point of his story he recollected Auguste, who, 
 gloomy and doleful, was sitting in a heap in a corner of the cab. 
 
 " Ah ! true ; I beg your pardon ! " murmured he ; " I keep 
 forgetting." 
 
 And, addressing Trublot, he added : 
 
 " Our friend has met with a misfortune iu his home also, and 
 that is why we are trying to find Duveyrier. Yes, he found his 
 wife last night" 
 
 He finished with a gesture, then added simply : 
 
 " Octave, you know." 
 
 Trublot, always plain-spoken, was about to say that it did not 
 surprise him. Only, he caught back his words, and replaced 
 them by others, full of disdainful anger, and the explanation of 
 which the husband did not dare to ask him for : 
 
 " What an idiot that Octave is ! " said he. 
 
 At this appreciation of adultery there ensued another pause. 
 Each of the three men was buried in his own reflections. The 
 cab scarcely moved at all. It seemed to have been rolling for 
 hours over a bridge, when Trublot, who was the first to emerge 
 from his thoughts, ventured on making this judicious remark :
 
 PIPING HOT ! 309 
 
 " This cab doesn't get along very fast." 
 
 But nothing could increase the horse's pace. It was eleven 
 o'clock when they reached the Hue d'Assas. And there they 
 wasted nearly another quarter of an hour, for in spite of Tru- 
 blot's boasts, he could not find the door. At first, he allowed 
 the driver to go along the street to the very end without 
 stopping him ; then he made him drive up and down three 
 times over. And on his precise indications, Auguste kept 
 entering every tenth house ; but the doorkeepers all answered 
 that they knew no one of the name. At length, a greengrocer 
 pointed out the door to him. He went in with Bachelard, 
 leaving Trublot in the cab. 
 
 It was the big rascal of a brother who admitted them. He 
 had a cigarette stuck between his lips, and blew the smoke into 
 their faces as he showed them into the drawing-room. When 
 they asked for Monsieur Duveyrier, he stood looking at them in 
 a jocular manner without answering. Then he disappeared, 
 perhaps to fetch him. In the middle of the blue satin drawing- 
 room, all luxuriously new, yet already stained with grease, one 
 of the sisters, the youngest, was seated on the carpet scouring 
 out a saucepan which she had brought from the kitchen ; 
 whilst the other, the eldest, was hammering with her clenched 
 fists on a magnificent piano, the key of which she had just 
 found. On seeing the gentlemen enter they had both raised 
 their heads ; neither, however, left off her occupation, but con- 
 tinued on the contrary hammering and scouring more energeti- 
 cally than ever. Five minutes passed, yet no one came. The 
 visitors, feeling almost deafened, stood looking at each other, 
 when some yells, issuing from a neighbouring room, completely 
 terrified them ; it was the invalid aunt being washed. 
 
 At length, an old woman, Madame Bocquet, Clarisse's mother, 
 passed her head through a partly opened door, not daring to 
 show any more of her person because of the filthy dress she 
 had on. 
 
 " What do you gentlemen desire ? " asked she. 
 
 "Why, Monsieur Duveyrier!" exclaimed the uncle losing 
 patience. " We have already told the servant. Let him know 
 that Monsieur Auguste Vabre and Monsieur Narcisse Bachelard 
 wish to see him." 
 
 Madame Bocquet shut the door again. The eldest of the 
 sisters was now mounted on the music stool, and was hammer- 
 ing away with her elbows, whilst the youngest was scraping the 
 saucepan with an iron fork, so as to get all she could out of it.
 
 310 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 Another five minutes passed by. Then, in the midst of the 
 uproar, which did not seem to disturb her in the least, Clarisse 
 appeared. 
 
 " Ah ! it's you ! " said she to Bachelard, without even looking 
 at Auguste. 
 
 The uncle was quite taken aback. He would not have known 
 her, she had grown so fat The big devil of a wench, once as 
 skinny as a scarecrow and as curly as a poodle, was becoming 
 quite the little mother, clammy, and her hair all shining with 
 pomatum. She did not give him time to say a word, but at 
 once roughly told him that she did not want in her home such 
 a talebearer as him, who went and told Alphonse all sorts of 
 horrible things ; yes, exactly so, he had accused her of sleeping 
 with Alphonse's friends, of picking them up behind his back by 
 the shovelful ; and he could not deny it, for Alphonse himself 
 had told her. 
 
 " You know, my old fellow," added she, " if you've come to 
 tipple, you may as well get out at once. The old life's done 
 with. I now intend to be respected." 
 
 And she displayed her passion for the genteel, which had 
 grown, and had become her fixed idea. Seized with periodical 
 fits of rigour, she had thus driven away her lover's friends one by 
 one, forbidding them to smoke, insisting on being addressed as 
 Madame and on receiving morning calls. Her old superficial 
 and borrowed funniness had all departed; and she retained 
 merely the exaggeration of her part of a grand lady, who at times 
 broke out in foul words and obscene gestures. Little by little 
 solitude was again enveloping Duveyrier : there was no longer 
 the pleasant nook, but a ferociously middle-class abode, amidst 
 the filth and uproar of which he met with all the annoyances of 
 his own home. As Trublot said, one did not feel more bored 
 at the Rue de Choiseul, and this was much less dirty. 
 
 " We haven't called on your account," replied Bachelard re- 
 covering himself, used as he was to the lively receptions of such 
 ladies. " We must speak to Duveyrier." 
 
 Then Clarisse looked at the other gentleman. She took him 
 for a bailiff, knowing that Alphonse was already in a mess. 
 
 " Oh ! after all, I don't care," said she. " You can take him 
 and keep him if you like. It's not so very pleasant to have to 
 dress his pimples ! " 
 
 She no longer even took the trouble to conceal her disgust, 
 certain, moreover, that all her cruelties only attached him to 
 her the more.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 311 
 
 And, opening a door, she added : 
 
 " Here ! come along, as these gentlemen persist in seeing 
 you." 
 
 Duveyrier, who seemed to have been waiting behind the door, 
 entered and shook their hands, trying to conjure up a smile. 
 He no longer had the youthful air of bygone days, when he 
 used to spend the evening at her rooms in the Kue de la 
 Cerisaie ; he looked overcome with weariness, he was mournful 
 and much thinner, starting at every moment, as though he 
 were uneasy about something behind him. 
 
 Clarisse remained to listen. Bachelard, who did not intend 
 to speak before her, invited the counsellor to lunch. 
 
 " Now, do accept, Monsieur Vabre wants you. Madame will 
 be kind enough to excuse " 
 
 But the latter had at length caught sight ol her sister 
 hammering on the piano, and she slapped her and turned her 
 out of the room, taking the same opportunity to cuff and drive 
 away the little one with her saucepan. There was a most in- 
 fernal uproar. The invalid aunt in the next room again started 
 off yelling, thinking they were coming to beat her. 
 
 " Do you hear, my darling ] " murmured Duveyrier, " these 
 gentlemen have invited me to lunch." 
 
 But she was not listening to him, she was trying the instru- 
 ment with frightened tenderness. For a month past, she had 
 been learning to play the piano. It was the secret dream of 
 her whole life, a far away ambition the realization of which 
 could alone stamp her a woman of society. Having satisfied 
 herself that there was nothing broken, she was about to prevent 
 her lover from going, simply to annoy him, when Madame Boc- 
 quet once more bobbed her head in at the door, again hiding 
 her skirt. 
 
 " Your music-master," said she. 
 
 At this Clarisse changed her mind, and called to Duveyrier : 
 
 "That's it, be off! I'll lunch with Theodore. We don't 
 want you." 
 
 The music-master, Theodore, was a Belgian with a large rosy 
 face. She at once sat down before the instrument, and rub- 
 bing her fingers to make them less stiff, she placed them on the 
 keys. For a moment Duveyrier, who was visibly greatly an- 
 noyed, hesitated. But the gentlemen were waiting for him, so 
 he went to put, on his boots. When he returned she was 
 splashing about amongst the scales, emitting a tempest of false 
 notes, which were making Auguste and Bachelard quite ill.
 
 312 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 Yet be, who went half mad when his wife played selections from 
 Mozart or Beethoven, stood for a minute behind his misti-ess, 
 seeming to enjoy the sounds, in spite of the nervous contrac- 
 tions of his face; and, turning towards his two visitors, he mur- 
 mured : 
 
 " She has a most extraordinary taste for music." 
 
 After kissing her on the hair, he discreetly withdrew, leaving 
 her with Theodore. In the anteroom, the big rascal of a 
 brother asked him in his jocular way for a franc for tobacco. 
 Then, as they went downstairs, Bachelard expressed surprise at 
 his conversion to the charms of the piano, and he swore he had 
 never disliked it, he talked of the ideal, saying how much 
 Clarisse's simple scales stirred his soul, yielding to his contin- 
 ual mania for having a bright side to his coarse masculine 
 appetites. 
 
 Down below, Trublot had given the driver a cigar, and was 
 listening to his history with the liveliest interest. The uncle 
 insisted on lunching at Foyot's ; it was the proper time, and 
 they could talk better whilst eating. Then, when the cab had 
 managed to start off again, he told everything to Duveyrier, 
 who became very grave. 
 
 Auguste's uneasiness seemed to have increased at Clarisse's, 
 where he had not opened his mouth; and now, worn out by this 
 interminable drive, his head entirely a prey to a violent aching, 
 he abandoned himself. 
 
 When the counsellor questioned him as to what he intended 
 doing, he opened his eyes, and remained a moment filled with 
 anguish, then he repeated his former phrase : 
 
 "Why fight, of course ! " 
 
 Only, his voice was weaker, and he added as he closed his 
 eyes, as though to ask to be left alone, 
 
 " Unless you have anything else to suggest." 
 
 Then the gentlemen held a grand council in the midst of 
 the laborious jolts of the vehicle. Duveyrier, the same as 
 Bachelard, considered the duel indispensable; he was deeply 
 affected by it, on account of the blood likely to be spilt, a long 
 black stream of which he pictured soiling the stairs of his pro- 
 perty; but honour demanded it, and one cannot compound with 
 honour. Trublot had broader views: it was too stupid to place 
 one's honour in what out of decency he termed a woman's 
 frailty. And Auguste approved what he said by a weary blink 
 of his eyelids, thoroughly incensed at last by the bellicose rage 
 of the two others, whose duty it was on the contrary to have
 
 PIPING HOT! 313 
 
 been conciliatory. In spite of his fatigue, he was obliged to re- 
 late once more the scene of the night before, the blow he had 
 given and the blow he had received ; and soon the fact of the 
 adultery was lost sight of, the discussion bore solely upon these 
 two blows : they were commented upon, and analysed, as a 
 satisfactory solution was sought for. 
 
 " What refinement ! " Trublot ended by contemptuously say- 
 ing. " If they hit each other, well ! they're quits." 
 
 Duveyrier and Bachelard looked at one another, evidently 
 shaken in their opinions. But just then they arrived at the restau- 
 rant, and the uncle declared that they would first of all have a 
 good lunch. It would help to clear their ideas. He stood treat, 
 ordering a copious meal, with costly dishes and wines, which 
 kept them three hours in a private room. The duel was not 
 even once mentioned. From the very beginning, the conversa- 
 tion had necessarily turned on the question of women, Fifi and 
 Clarisse were during the whole time explained, turned in- 
 side out, and pulled to pieces. Bachelard now admitted him- 
 self to have been in the wrong, so as not to appear to the coun- 
 sellor as having been vilely chucked over ; whilst the latter, 
 taking his revenge for the evening when the uncle had seen him 
 weep in the middle of the empty rooms in the Rue de la Cerisaie, 
 lied about his happiness, to the point of believing in it and be- 
 ing afl'ected by it himself. Seated before them, Auguste, pre- 
 vented by his neuralgia both from eating and drinking, appeared 
 to be listening, an elbow on the table, and a confused look in 
 his eyes. At dessert, Trublot recollected the driver, who had 
 been forgotten outside ; and full of sympathy he sent him the 
 remnants of the dishes and what was left in the bottles ; for, 
 said he, from certain things he had let drop, he had a suspicion 
 the man was an ex-priest. Three o'clock struck. Duveyrier 
 complained of being assessor at the next sitting of the assizes ; 
 Bachelard, who was now very drunk, spat sideways on to Tru- 
 blot's trousers, without the latter noticing it ; and the day 
 would have been finished there, amidst the liqueurs, if Auguste 
 had not suddenly roused himself with a start. 
 
 " Well, what's going to be done ?" asked he. 
 
 " Well ! young 'un," replied the uncle, speaking most famil- 
 iarly, "if you like, we'll settle matters nicely for you. It's stupid 
 to fight." 
 
 No one appeared surprised at this conclusion. Duveyrier 
 signified his approval with a nod of the head. The uncle con- 
 tinued :
 
 314 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 " I'll go with Monsieur Duveyrier and see the fellow, and he 
 shall apologise, or my name isn't Bachelard. The mere sight 
 of me will make him cave in, just because I shall have no busi- 
 ness there. I don't care a hang for anyone ! " 
 
 Auguste shook him by the hand ; but he did not seem to feel 
 relieved, the pains iu his head had become so unbearable. At 
 length, they left the private room. Down in the street, the 
 driver was still at lunch, inside the cab ; and, completely intoxi- 
 cated, he had to shake the crumbs out, digging Trublot frater- 
 nally in the stomach. Only, the horse, which had had nothing at 
 all, refused to walk, with a despairing wag of the head. They 
 pushed him, and he ended by going down the Rue de Tournon, 
 as though he were rolling along. Four o'clock had struck, 
 when the animal at length stopped in the Rue de Choiseul. 
 Auguste had had the cab seven hours. Trublot, who remained 
 inside, engaged it for himself, and declared that he would wait 
 there for Bachelard, whom he wished to invite to dinner. 
 
 "Well ! you have been a time," said Theophile to his brother, 
 as he hastened to meet him. " I thought you were dead." 
 
 And directly the gentlemen had entered the warehouse, he 
 related how the day had passed. He had been watching the 
 house ever since nine o'clock. But nothing particular had oc- 
 curred. At two o'clock, Valerie had gone to the Tuileries gar- 
 dens with their son Camille. Then, towards half past three, 
 he had seen Octave go out. And that was all. Nothing moved, 
 not even at the Josserands'. Saturnin, who had been seeking 
 his sister under the furniture, having gone up to ask for her, 
 Madame Josserand had shut the door in his lace, doubtless to 
 get rid of him, saying that Berthe was not there. Since then, 
 the madman had been prowling about with clenched teeth. 
 
 " Very well," said Bachelard, " we'll wait for the gentleman. 
 We shall see him come in from here." 
 
 Auguste, whose head was in a whirl, was making great efforts 
 to keep on his legs. Then, Duveyrier advised him to go to bed. 
 There was no other cure for headache. 
 
 " Go up now, we no longer require you. We will inform 
 you of the result My dear fellow, you know you should avoid 
 all emotions." 
 
 And the husband went up to lie down. 
 
 At five o'clock, the two others were still waiting for Octave. 
 The latter, without any definite object, simply desirous of hav- 
 ing some fresh air and of forgetting the events of the night, 
 had at first passed before "The Ladies' Paradise," where he had
 
 PIPING HOT ! 315 
 
 stopped to wish Madame Hedouin good-day, as she stood in the 
 doorway, dressed in deep mourning ; and as he informed her of 
 his having left the Vabres', she had quietly asked him why he 
 did not return to her. It had all been settled in a moment, 
 without a previous thought upon the subject. When he had 
 again wished her good-day, after promising to come on the 
 morrow, he continued his stroll, his mind filled with a vague 
 regret Chance was for ever upsetting his calculations. Vari- 
 ous projects absorbed his thoughts, and he had been wandering 
 about in the neighbourhood for an hour or more, when, on 
 raising his head, he found himself in the obscure turning of the 
 Passage Saint-Roch. Opposite to him, Vale'rie was taking leave 
 of a bearded gentleman, at the door of a low lodging-house in 
 the darkest corner. She blushed and hastened away, pushing 
 open the padded door of the church ; then, seeing that the 
 young man was following her and smiling, she preferred to 
 await him under the porch, where they conversed together very 
 cordially. 
 
 "You rim away from me," said he. "Are you then angry 
 with me?" 
 
 "Angry?" repeated she, "why should I be angry? Ah! 
 they may quarrel and eat each other up if they like, it doesn't 
 matter to me ! " 
 
 She was speaking of her relations. And she at once gave 
 vent to her old rancour against Berthe, making at first simply 
 allusions so as to sound the young man; then, when she felt he 
 was secretly weary of his mistress, being still exasperated with the 
 night's proceedings, she no longer restrained herself, but poured 
 out her heart. To think that that woman had accused her of 
 selling herself she, who never accepted a sou, not even a 
 present ! Yes, though, a few flowers at times, some bunches 
 of violets. And now everybody knew which of the two was the 
 one to sell herself. She had prophesied that one day it would 
 be known how much she could be bought for. 
 
 " It cost you more than a bunch of violets, did it not ? " 
 asked she. 
 
 " Yes, yes," murmured he basely. 
 
 In his turn he let out some disagreeable things about Berthe, 
 saying that she was spiteful, and even making her out to be 
 too fat, as though seeking to avenge himself for the worry she 
 was causing him. He had been waiting all day for her husband's 
 seconds, and he was then returning home to see if any one had 
 called. It was a most stupid adventure ; she might very well
 
 316 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 have prevented this duel taking place. He ended by relating 
 all that had occurred at their ridiculous meeting their quarrel, 
 then Auguste's arrival on the scene, before they had even ex- 
 changed a caress. 
 
 "On all I hold most sacred," said he, "I had not even 
 touched her." 
 
 Valerie laughed, and was getting quite excited. She gradu- 
 ally yielded to the tender intimacy of this exchange of con- 
 fidences, drawing nearer to Octave as though to some female 
 friend who knew all. At times, a devotee coming from the 
 church disturbed them ; then the door gently closed to again, 
 and they once more found themselves alone in the drum, hung 
 with green baize, as though in the iunermost recesses of some 
 discreet and religious asylum. 
 
 " I scarcely know why I live with such people," resumed she, 
 returning to the subject of her relations. " Oh ! no doubt, I 
 am not free from reproach on my side. But, frankly, I cannot 
 feel any remorse, they affect me so little. .And yet if I were to 
 tell you how much love bores me ! " 
 
 " Come now, not so much as all that ! " said Octave gaily. 
 " People are not always as silly as we were yesterday. There 
 are blissful moments." 
 
 Then she confessed herself. It was not entirely the hatred 
 she felt for her husband, the continual fever which shook his 
 frame, his impotence, nor yet his perpetual blubbering like a 
 little boy, which had caused her to misbehave herself six 
 months after her marriage ; no, she often did it involuntarily, 
 solely because her head got filled with things of which she was 
 unable to explain the why and the wherefore. Everything 
 gave way ; she became quite ill, and could almost kill herself. 
 Then, as there was nothing to restrain her, she might as well 
 take that leap as another. 
 
 " But really now, do you never have a nice time of it V again 
 asked Octave. 
 
 " Well, never like people describe," replied she. 
 
 He looked at her full of a pitying sympathy. All for 
 nothing, and without the least pleasure. It was certainly not 
 worth the trouble she gave herself, in her continual fear of 
 being caught. And he especially felt a certain relief to his 
 pride, for he had always suffered a little at heart from her old 
 disdain. He recalled the circumstance to her. 
 
 " You remember, after one of your attacks 1 " 
 
 " Oh ! yes, I remember. Still, I did not dislike you ; but
 
 PIPING HOT! 317 
 
 listen ! it is far better as it is, we should be detesting each 
 other now." 
 
 She gave him her little gloved hand. He squeezed it, as he 
 repeated : 
 
 " You are right, it is better as it is. Really, one only cares 
 for the women one has had nothing to do with." 
 
 It was quite a blissful moment. They stood for a while 
 hand in hand, deeply affected. Then, without another word, 
 they pushed open the padded door of the church, inside which 
 she had left her son Camille in care of the woman who let out 
 the chairs. The child had fallen asleep. She mads him kneel 
 down, and did the same herself for a minute, burying her face 
 in her hands, as though in the midst of a fervent prayer. And 
 she was rising to her feet when Abbe Mauduit, who was coming 
 from a confessional, greeted her with a paternal smile. 
 
 Octave had simply passed through the church. When he 
 returned home every one was on the alert. Trublot aloue, who 
 was dreaming in the cab, did not see him. Tradespeople stand- 
 ing at their doors looked at him gravely. The stationer opposite 
 was still surveying the front of the house, as though to search 
 the very stones ; but the chai'coal-dealer and the greengrocer 
 had already become calmer, and the neighbourhood was relaps- 
 ing into its chilly dignity. In the doorway as Octave passed, 
 Lisa, who was gossiping with Adele, had to content herseli' 
 with merely staring at him ; and both resumed their complaints 
 of the dear price of poultry beneath the stern look of Monsieur 
 Gourd, who bowed to the young man. As the latter was going 
 np to his room Madame Juzeur, who had been on the watch 
 ever since the morning, slightly opened her door, and, seizing 
 hold of his hands, drew him into her anteroom, where she kissed 
 him on the forehead and murmured : 
 
 " Poor child ! There, I won't keep you. Come back and 
 talk to me when it's all over." 
 
 And he had scarcely reached his own apartment when 
 Duveyrier and Bachelard called. At first, amazed at seeing 
 the uncle, he wished to give them the names of two of his 
 friends. But these gentlemen, without answering, spoke of 
 their age, and preached him a sermon on his misconduct. 
 Then, as in the course of conversation he announced his inten- 
 tion of leaving the house at the earliest possible moment, they 
 both solemnly declared that that proof of his discretion was 
 quite sufficient. There had been more than enough scandal, 
 the time had come when respectable people had the right to
 
 318 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 expect them to make the sacrifice of their passions. Duveyrier 
 accepted Octave's notice to quit on the spot and withdrew, whilst 
 behind his back Bachelard invited the young man to dine with 
 him that evening. 
 
 " Mind, I count upon you. We're on the spree, Trublot is 
 waiting below. I don't care a button for Eleonore. But I 
 don't wish to see her, and I'll go down first, so that no one 
 shall meet us together." 
 
 He took his departure, and, five minutes later, Octave, 
 delighted with the issue of affairs, joined him below. He 
 slipped into the cab, and the melancholy horse, which had been 
 dragging the husband about for seven hours, limped along with 
 them to a restaurant near the Halles, where some marvellous 
 tripe was to be obtained. 
 
 Duveyrier had gone back to The'ophile in the warehouse. 
 Valerie also had just come in, and all three were talking 
 together when Clotilde herself returned from a concert. She 
 hall gone there, moreover, with a mind perfectly at ease, 
 certain, said she, that some arrangement satisfactory to every 
 one would be arrived at. Then ensued a pause, a momentary 
 embarrassment between the two families. Theophile, seized 
 with an abominable fit of coughing, was almost spitting his 
 teeth out. As it was to their mutual interest to be reconciled, 
 they ended by taking advantage of the emotion into which the 
 new family troubles had plunged them. The two women em- 
 braced, Duveyrier swore to Theophile that the Vabre inherit- 
 ance was ruining him, yet he promised to indemnify him by 
 remitting his rent for three years. 
 
 " I must go and tranquillise poor Auguste," at length ob- 
 served the counsellor. 
 
 He was ascending the stairs when some terrible cries, resemb- 
 ling those of an animal being butchered, issued from the bedroom. 
 It wasSaturninwho, armed with his kitchen knife, had noiselessly 
 crept as far as the alcove ; and there, his eyes as red as flaming 
 coals, his mouth covered with foam, he had rushed upon Anguste. 
 
 " Tell me, where have you put her 1 " cried he. " Give her 
 back to me or I'll bleed you like a pig ! " 
 
 The husband, suddenly roused from his painful slumber, 
 tried to fly. But the madman, with the strength of his fixed 
 idea, had caught him by the tail of his shirt, and, pushing 
 him back on the mattress, placing his neck on the edge cf the 
 bed, over a basin which happened to be there, he held him 
 in the position of an animal at the slaughter-house.
 
 8ATURNIN IN A FIT OF MADNESS ATTEMPTING TO BLEFJ) AUGUSTE 
 LIKE A PIG. p. 318.
 
 PIPING HOT! 319 
 
 " Ah ! it's all right this time. I'm going to bleed you I'm 
 going to bleed you like a pig ! " 
 
 Fortunately, the others arrived and were able to release the 
 victim. But Saturnin, who was raving mad, had to be shut 
 up ; and, two hours later, the commissary of police having been 
 sent for, he was taken for the second time to the Asile des 
 Moulineaux, with the consent of the family. Poor Auguste lay 
 trembling. He said to Duveyrier, who informed him of the 
 arrangement that had been come to with Octave, 
 
 " No, I should have preferred to have fought the duel. One 
 cannot defend oneself against a madman. Why has he such a 
 mania for wishing to bleed me, the brigand ? because his sister 
 has made a cuckold of me? Ah ! I've had enough of it, my 
 friend, I've had enough of it, on my word of honour ! "
 
 320 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 ON the Wednesday morning, when Marie brought Berthe to 
 Madame Josserand, the latter, bursting with anger at the 
 thought of an adventure which she felt was a sad blow to her 
 pride^ became quite pale and unable to utter a word. 
 
 She caught hold of her daughter's hand with the roughness 
 of a teacher dragging a refractory scholar to the black-hole, 
 and, leading her to Hortense's room, she pushed her inside, 
 saying at length : 
 
 " Hide yourself, never show yourself again. I ou will kiii 
 your father if you do." 
 
 Hortense, who was washing, remained lost in wonder. 
 Red with shame, Berthe threw herself on the tumbled bed, and 
 burst into sobs. She had expected an immediate and violent 
 explanation. She had prepared a whole line of defence, deter- 
 mined to shout also directly her mother went too far ; and this 
 silent harshness, this way of treating her like a little girl who 
 has eaten a pot of jam, left her without strength, bringing her 
 back to the terrors of her childhood, to the tears she used to 
 shed in corners, with great promises of future obedience. 
 
 " What's up? What ever have you done?" asked her sister, 
 whose astonishment increased on seeing her wrapped in an old 
 shawl which Marie had lent her. " Has poor Auguste fallen ill 
 at Lyons?" 
 
 But Berthe would not answer. No, later on ; there wer 
 things she could not speak about ; and she beseeched Hortense 
 to go away, to let her have the room to herself, so that she 
 coufd at least weep there in peace. The day passed thus. 
 Monsieur Josserand had gone off to his office, without havm 
 the faintest idea of what had occurred; then, when he returnee 
 home in the evening, Berthe still remained in hiding. As s 
 had refused all food, she ended by ravenously devouring the 
 little dinner which Adele brought to her in secret. The maid 
 remained watching her, and, in presence of her appeti ? said: 
 
 "Don't worry yourself so much, pick up your strength.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 321 
 
 house is quite quiet. And as for any one being killed or 
 wounded, there's nobody hurt at all." 
 
 " Ah ! " said the young woman. 
 
 She questioned Adele, who gave her a long account of how 
 the day had passed, the duel which had not come off, what 
 Monsieur Auguste had said, and what the Duveyriers and 
 the Vabres had done. She listened to her, and seemed to 
 live again, gobbling everything up, and asking for more 
 bread. In all truth it was foolish of her to take the matter 
 so much to heart when the others seemed to be already 
 consoled ! 
 
 So, on Hortense coming to join her towards ten o'clock, she 
 greeted her gaily, and with dry eyes. And, smothering their 
 laughter, they amused themselves when she tried on one of her 
 sister's dressing-gowns which was too tight for her : her bosom, 
 which marriage had developed, almost burst the material. All 
 the same, she would be able to get it on to-morrow by altering 
 the buttons. Both fancied themselves back again in the days 
 of their youth, all alone in this room where they had spent 
 years side by side. This touched them and brought them 
 nearer to one another in an affection which they had not felt 
 for many a long day. They had to sleep together, for Madame 
 Josserand had got rid of the little bed which used to be Berthe's. 
 When they were stretched side by side, with the candle blown 
 out, and their eyes wide open in the darkness, they talked for a 
 long while, unable to get to sleep. 
 
 " So you won't tell me ? " asked Hortense again. 
 
 " But, my darling," answered Berthe, " you're not married. 
 I really can't. It's a quarrel I've had with Auguste. He came 
 back, you know " 
 
 And as she interrupted herself, her sister resumed impatiently, 
 
 " Get along with you ! What a fuss ! Good heavens ! at 
 my age, I'm quite old enough to know ! " 
 
 Then Berthe confessed herself, at first choosing her words, 
 then letting out everything, talking of Octave and talking of 
 Auguste. Hortense listened as she lay on her back in the dark, 
 and merely uttered a few words to question her sister or to give 
 an opinion: "What did he say to you then? And you, how 
 did you feel ? Well, that's funny, I shouldn't like that ! Ah ! 
 really, so that's the way ! " Midnight, one o'clock, then two 
 struck ; still they went on with the story, their limbs little by 
 little irritated by the sheets, and themselves gradually becoming 
 drowsy. In this semi-hallucination Berthe forgot her sister, 
 
 x
 
 322 PIPING HOT! 
 
 and began to think aloud, relieving alike her body and her 
 mind of the most delicate confidences. 
 
 " Oh ! as for me, with Verdier, it will be very simple, de- 
 clared Hortense, abruptly. " I shall do just as he wishes." 
 
 At the mention of Verdier's name Berthe made a movement 
 of surprise. She thought the marriage was broken off, for the 
 woman with whom he had been living for fifteen years past had 
 just had a child, at the very moment that he intended leaving 
 
 her. 
 
 " Do you then expect to marry him all the same ? " asked she. 
 "Well! and why not? I was stupid enough to wait too 
 long. But the child will die. It's a girl, and all scrofulous." 
 
 And, spitting out the word " mistress," with a feeling of dis- 
 gust, she displayed all the hatred of a virtuous middle-class 
 woman of a marriageable age against the creature who had been 
 so long living with a man. It was all a manoeuvre, her brat, 
 and nothing more ! Yes, a pretext she had invented, when she 
 saw that Verdier, after buying her some chemises so as not to 
 send her away naked, wished to habituate her to an approaching 
 separation, by sleeping out more and more frequently. lu 
 short, one would wait and see. 
 
 " Poor woman ! " Berthe was unable to help exclaiming. 
 " How, poor woman ! " cried Hortense sourly. " It's easy to 
 see that you also have things to reproach yourself with ! " 
 
 She at once regretted her cruelty, and taking her sister m 
 her arms, kissed her and swore that she did not mean it. Then 
 they were silent. But still they could not sleep, so continued 
 the story, their eyes wide open in the darkness. 
 
 The next morning, Monsieur Josserand did not feel very 
 well. Up till two o'clock, he had persisted in addressing 
 wrappers, in spite of a lowness of spirits, and of a gradual loss 
 of strength, of which he had been complaining for some time. 
 He got up, however, and dressed himself ; but, when he was on 
 the point of starting for his office, he felt so feeble that he sent 
 a messenger with a letter to inform the brothers Bernheim of 
 his indisposition. 
 
 The family were about to have their breakfast. They took 
 the meal without any tablecloth, in the dining-room, still full 
 of the fumes of the dinner of the previous evening. The ladies 
 would come in anyhow, still wet from recent washing of them- 
 selves, and their hair simply gathered up in a knot. On seeing 
 her husband remain, Madame Josserand decided -not to hide 
 Berthe any longer ; she was already sick of all the mystery,
 
 PIPING HOT I 323 
 
 and was moreover expecting every minute to see Auguste 
 come up and create a disturbance. 
 
 " What ! you're going to breakfast with ua ! whatever is the 
 matter ? " asked the father in great surprise, on beholding his 
 daughter, her eyes heavy with sleep, her bosom half bursting 
 through Hortense's too tight dressing-gown. 
 
 " My husband has written to say that he is obliged to stay 
 at Lyons," answered she, " so I thought of spending the day 
 with you." 
 
 It was a story which had been arranged between the two 
 sisters. Madame Josserand, who maintained her stiffness of a 
 schoolmistress, did not give her the lie. But the father looked 
 at Berthe, in a confused way, and as though foreboding some 
 misfortune; and the story appearing rather extraordinary to 
 him, he was about to ask how the shop would get on without 
 her, when she went and kissed him on both cheeks, in the gay 
 and wheedling way of other days. 
 
 " Is it really true ] You are not hiding anything from me ? " 
 murmured he. 
 
 " What an idea ! why should I hide anything from you 1 " 
 
 Madame Josserand merely allowed herself to shrug her 
 shoulders. What was the use of all those precautions ] to gain 
 an hour, perhaps ; it was not worth while : the father would 
 always have to receive the blow in the end. The breakfast, 
 however, passed off most pleasantly. Monsieur Josserand, 
 delighted at finding himself between his two daughters again, 
 fancied they were back in the old days, when, scarcely awake, 
 they used to amuse him with the recital of their girlish dreams. 
 To him, they still retained their delightful odour of youth, as, 
 with their elbows on the table, they dipped their bread into 
 their coffee, and laughed with their mouths full. And all the 
 past seemed to return, when, opposite to them, he beheld the 
 inflexible countenance of their mother, enormous and overflow- 
 ing in an old green silk dress, which she was wearing out on a 
 morning without stays. 
 
 But a regrettable scene spoilt the end of the breakfast. All 
 on a sudden, Madame Josserand addressed the servant : 
 
 " Whatever are you eating ? " 
 
 .For some little while past she had been watching her. 
 Adele, dragging her shoes after her, turned clumsily round the 
 table. 
 
 " Nothing, madame," replied she. 
 
 " How ! nothing ! You're chewing ; I'm not blind. See !
 
 824 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 you've still got your mouth full of it. Oh ! it's no use drawing 
 in your cheeks ; its easy to see in spite of that. And you've 
 got some in your pocket, haven't you ? " 
 
 Adele became confused, and tried to draw back. But 
 Madame Josserand caught hold of her by the skirt. 
 
 " For a quarter of an hour past, I've been watching you take 
 something out of there and thrust it under your nose, after 
 hiding it in your hand It must be something very good. Let 
 me see what it is." 
 
 She dived into the pocket in her turn, and withdrew a handful 
 of cooked prunes. The juice was still trickling from them. 
 " What is this ? " cried she furiously. 
 
 "Prunes, madame," said the servant, who, seeing herself 
 caught, became insolent. 
 
 "Ah! you eat my prunes! So that's why they go so 
 quickly and never again appear on the table ! I could never 
 have believed it possible ; prunes ! in a pocket ! " 
 
 And she also accused her of drinking her vinegar. Every- 
 thing disappeared ; one could not even leave a potato about 
 without being certain of never seeing it again. 
 " You're a regular gulf, my girl" 
 
 " Give me sufficient to eat," retorted Adele boldly, " and then 
 I won't touch your potatoes." 
 
 This was too much. Madame Josserand rose from her seat, 
 majestic and terrible. 
 
 " Hold your tongue, and don't answer me ! Oh ! I know, it s 
 the other servants who've spoilt you. Directly a simpleton 
 arrives in a house from the country, aU the hussies in the place 
 at once put her up to all sorts of horrors. You no longer go 
 to mass, and now you steal ! " 
 
 Adele, who had indeed been worked up by Lisa and Julie, 
 did not yield. 
 
 " When I was a simpleton, as you say, you should not nave 
 taken advantage of me. It's ended now." 
 
 " Leave the room, I discharge you ! " cried Madame Josse- 
 rand, pointing to the door with a tragical gesture. 
 
 She sat down quite shaken, whilst the maid, without hurry- 
 ing herself, dragged her shoes after her and swallowed another 
 prune before returning to the kitchen. She was discharged in 
 this way regularly once a week, so that it no longer caused her 
 the least emotion. A painful silence ensued at the table. At 
 length Hortense observed that it was no good always discharg- 
 in^ her if she was always kept No doubt she stole, and was
 
 PIPING HOT! 325 
 
 becoming insolent; but it might just as well be her as another, for 
 she at least consented to wait upon them, whereas any one else 
 would not have put up with them for a week, even though she were 
 allowed to drink the vinegar and to stuff her pockets full of prunes. 
 
 The breakfast, however, finished in the most affectionate 
 intimacy. Monsieur Josserand, deeply moved, spoke of poor 
 Saturnin, who had had to be taken away the day before during 
 his absence from home ; and as he believed in a sudden fit of 
 raving madness, with which his son had been seized in the 
 middle of the shop, for such was the story that had been told 
 him. Then, as he complained of never seeing Le'on, Madame 
 Josserand, who had become dumb again, curtly declared that 
 she was expecting him that very day, perhaps he would come 
 to lunch. For a week past the young mau had broken off his 
 relations with Madame Dambreville, who, to keep her promise, 
 wished to marry him to a dry and swarthy widow ; but he was 
 determined to marry a niece of Monsieur Dambreville, a very 
 rich and lovely Creole, who had arrived at her uncle's in the 
 month of September, after the death of her father in the West 
 Indies. And there had been terrible scenes between the two 
 lovers ; Madame Dambreville, devoured by jealousy, refused to 
 give her niece to Leon, not caring to find herself supplanted by 
 that adorable flower of youth. 
 
 " How is the marriage getting on ]" asked Monsieur Josserand 
 discreetly. 
 
 At first the mother replied in well-chosen phrases, on account 
 of Hortense. Now, she was at the feet of her son, a young 
 fellow who was sure to succeed ; and she would even throw his 
 name in the father's face at times, saying that, thank goodness! 
 he took after her, and would never leave his wife without a pair 
 of shoes. She little by little warmed with her subject. 
 
 " In short, he's had enough of it ! It was all very well for 
 a while, and did him no harm. But, if the aunt doesn't give 
 him the niece, good night ! he'll cut off all supplies. I think 
 he's quite right." 
 
 Hortense, out of decency, sipped her coffee, making a show 
 of obliterating herself behind the cup ; whilst Berthe, who for 
 the future might hear anything, gave a slight pout of repug- 
 nance at her brother's successes. The family were about to 
 rise from table, and Monsieur Josserand, who was more cheerful 
 and feeling much better, was talking of going to his office all 
 the same, when Adele brought in a card. The person was wait- 
 ing in the drawing-room.
 
 326 PIPING HOT! 
 
 " What, it's her ! and at this hour of the morning ! " ex- 
 claimed Madame Josserand. "And I who haven't got my 
 stays on ! So much the -worse ! it's time I gave her a piece of 
 my mind ! " 
 
 The visitor was Madame Dambreville. The father and his 
 two daughters remained talking in the dining-room, whilst the 
 mother directed her steps to the drawing-room. But she 
 stopped at the door before openiug it, and anxiously examined 
 her old green silk dress, trying to button it up, picking off the 
 threads gathered from the floors, and driving in her immense 
 bosom with a tap. 
 
 " Excuse me, dear madame," said the visitor with a smile. 
 " I was passing, so could not resist calling to see how you were." 
 She was all laced up, and had her hair done in the most 
 correct style, while she conversed in the easy way of an amiable 
 woman, who had just come up to wish a friend good day. Only, 
 her smile trembled, and behind her society graces one could 
 detect a frightful anguish, with which her whole frame quivered. 
 She at first talked of all sorts of things, avoiding any mention 
 of Leon's name, but at length she took from her pocket a letter 
 which she had just received from him. 
 
 "Oh! such a letter, such a letter," murmured she, in an 
 altered voice, half-broken with sobs. " Whatever is it he has 
 to complain of, dear madame ? He says he will never come to 
 our house again ! " 
 
 And her feverish hand held out the letter, which quite shook 
 as she offered it to Madame Josserand. The latter read it 
 coldly. It was a breaking off of the acquaintance in three lines 
 of most cruel conciseness. 
 
 " Really ! " said she as she returned the letter, " Ldon is not 
 perhaps altogether wrong " 
 
 But Madame Dambreville at once began to praise up the 
 widow a woman scarcely thirty-five years old, most accom- 
 plished and sufficiently rich, who would make a Minister of her 
 husband, she was so active. In short, she had kept her 
 promises, she had found a fine match for Lon ; whatever had 
 he to be angry about? And, without waiting for a reply, 
 making up her mind with a nervous start, she named Ray- 
 monde, her niece. Really now, was it possible ? a chit of six- 
 teen, a young savage who knew nothing of life ! 
 
 "Why not?" Madame Josserand kept repeating at each 
 interrogation, " why not, if he loves her ? " 
 
 No ! no ! he did not love her he could not love her !
 
 PIPING HOT! 327 
 
 Madame Dambreville struggled, and gradually abandoned 
 herself. 
 
 " Come," cried she, " I only ask him for a little gratitude. 
 It's I who have made him, it's thanks to mo that he is an 
 auditor, and he will receive a higher appointment on his 
 wedding-day. Madame, I implore you, tell him to return to 
 me, tell him to do me that pleasure. I appeal to his heart, to 
 your motherly heart, yes, to all that is noble in your nature " 
 
 She clasped her hands, her words became inarticulate. A 
 pause ensued, during which they were standing face to face. 
 Then suddenly she burst out into the most bitter sobs, van- 
 quished, and no longer mistress of herself. 
 
 " Not with Raymonde," stuttered she, " oh ! no, not with 
 Raymonde ! " 
 
 It was the rage of love, the cry of a woman who refuses to 
 become old, who hangs on to the last man in the ardent crisis 
 of the change of life. She had seized hold of Madame Josse- 
 rand's hands, she bathed them with her tears, owning every- 
 thing to the mother, humbling herself before her, repeating 
 that she alone had any influence over her son, swearing to be 
 as devoted as a servant, if she would only make him return to 
 her. Of course, she had not come to say all this ; she had pro- 
 mised herself, on the contrary, to let none of it be known ; but 
 her heart was breaking it was not her fault. 
 
 " Keep quiet, my dear, you make me quite ashamed," replied 
 Madame Josserand, angrily. " I have daughters who might 
 hear you, I know nothing, and I don't wish to know anything. 
 If you have affairs with my son, you must settle them together. 
 I will never place myself in a questionable position." 
 
 Yet she loaded her with advice. At her age, one should 
 resign oneself to the inevitable. God would be of great help to 
 her. But she must yield up her niece, if she wished to offer 
 her sacrifice to heaven as an expiation. Moreover, the widow 
 did not suit Leon at all ; he required a wife with a pleasant face 
 to preside at his dinner-table. And she spoke admiringly of 
 her son, flattered in her pride, minutely detailing him, and 
 showing him to be worthy of the loveliest women. 
 
 "Just think, dear friend, he is not yet thirty. I should be 
 grieved to appear unkind, but you might be his mother. Oh, 
 he knows what he owes you, and I myself am filled with grati- 
 tude. You will remain his guardian angel. Only, when a 
 thing is ended, it is ended. You could not possibly have 
 hoped to have kept him always ! "
 
 328 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 And as the wretched woman refused to listen to reason, wishing 
 simply to have him back, and at once, the mother grew quite angry. 
 " Do have done, madame ! It is kind on my part to be so 
 obliging. The boy will have no more of it ! it is easily to be 
 understood. Look at yourself, pray ! It is I now who would 
 call him back to his duty, if he submitted again to your 
 exactions ; for, I ask you, what good can there be in it for both 
 of you in future 1 It so happens that he is coming here, and 
 if you have counted on me 
 
 Of all these words, Madame Dambreville only heard 
 last phrase. For a week past she had been running about after 
 Leon, without succeeding in seeing him. Her face brightened 
 up ; she uttered this cry from her heart : 
 " As he is coming, I shall stay ! " 
 
 From that moment she made herself at home, seating herseli 
 like a heavy mass in an arm-chair, her eyes fixed on vacancy, 
 declining any further questioning with the obstinacy of an 
 animal which will not yield, even when beaten. Madame 
 Josserand, bitterly regretting having said too much, exasperated 
 with this sort of mile-stone which had become a fixture in her 
 drawing-room, yet not daring to turn her out, ended by leaving 
 her to herself. Moreover, some sounds coming from the dining- 
 room made her feel uneasy. She fancied she recognised 
 Auguste's voice. 
 
 " On my word of honour ! madame, one never heard 
 a thing before ! " said she, violently slamming the door, 
 is most indiscreet ! " 
 
 It was indeed Auguste, who had come up to have the explana- 
 tion with his wife's parents which he had been meditating since 
 the day before. Monsieur Josseraud, feeling jollier still, and 
 more inclined for a little enjoyment than for office duties, was 
 proposing a walk to his daughters, when Adele came and an- 
 nounced Madame Berthe's husband. It created quite a scare. 
 The young woman turned pale. 
 
 "What! your husband?" said the father. "But he was 
 at Lyons ! Ah ! you were not speaking the truth. There is 
 some misfortune ; for two days past I have seemed to feel 
 And, as she rose from her seat, he detained her. 
 "Tell me, have you been quarrelling again? about money, 
 is it not? Eh? perhaps because of the dowry, of 
 thousand francs we have not paid him? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, that's it," stammered Berthe, who released herse 
 
 and fled.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 329 
 
 Hortense also had riscu. She ran after her sister, and both 
 took refuge in her room. Their flying skirts left a breath of 
 panic behind them, the father suddenly found himself alone at 
 the table, in the middle of the silent dining-room. All the 
 signs of illness returned to his countenance, a cadaverous 
 paleness, a desperate weariness of life. The hour which he 
 dreaded, which he had been awaiting with shame, mingled 
 with anguish, had arrived. His son-in-law was about to speak 
 of the assurance ; and he would have to own to the swindling 
 expedient to which he had consented. 
 
 " Come in, come in, my dear Auguste," said he in a choking 
 tone of voice. " Berthe has just told me of your quarrel. I'm 
 not very well, and they've been spoiling me. I regret im- 
 mensely not being able to give you that money. I did wrong in 
 promising, I know " 
 
 He continued painfully, with the air of a guilty man making 
 avowals. Auguste listened to him in surprise. He had been 
 obtaining information, and knew all about the way he had 
 been taken in with the assurance ; but he would not have 
 dared to demand the payment of the first ten thousand francs, 
 for fear that the terrible Madame Josserand might first send him 
 to old Vabre's tomb to receive the ten thousand francs due 
 from him. However, as the matter was named to him, he 
 started on that. It was a first grievance. 
 
 " Yes, sir, I know all. You completely took me in with your 
 lies. I don't mind so much not having the money ; but it's the 
 hypocrisy of the thing which exasperates me ! Why all that 
 nonsense about an assurance which did not exist ? Why give 
 yourself such airs of tenderness and affection, by offering to 
 advance sums which, according to you, you would not be 
 entitled to receive till three years later 1 And you were not 
 even blessed with a sou ! Such behaviour has only one name 
 in every country." 
 
 Monsieur Josserand opened his mouth to exclaim : " It is not 
 I ; it is them ! " But he was ashamed to accuse the family ; 
 he bowed his head, thus accepting the responsibility of the dis- 
 graceful action. Auguste continued : 
 
 " Moreover, every one was against me, even that Duveyrier 
 behaved like a rascal, with his scoundrel of a notary ; for I 
 asked to have the assurance mentioned in the contract, as a 
 guarantee, and I was made to shut up. Had I insisted, though, 
 you would have been guilty of swindling. Yes, sir, swindling ! " 
 
 At this accusation, the father, who was very pale, rose to his
 
 330 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 feet, and he was about to answer, to offer his labour, to pur- 
 chase his daughter's happiness with all of his existence that re- 
 mained to him, when Madame Josserand, quite beside herself 
 through Madame Dambreville's obstinacy, no longer thinking of 
 her old green silk dress, now splitting, through the heaving of 
 her angry bosom, entered like a blast of wind. 
 
 "Eh? what?" cried she; "who talks of swindling? Is it 
 you, sir ? You would do better, sir, to go first to Pere-Lachaise 
 cemetery to see if it's your father's paj 7 -day ! " 
 
 Auguste had expected this, but he was all the same horribly 
 annoyed. She went on, with head erect, and quite crushing in 
 her audacity : 
 
 " We've got them, your ten thousand francs. Yes, they're 
 there in a drawer. But we will only give them you when 
 Monsieur Vabre returns to give you the others. What a 
 family ! a gambler of a father who lets us all in, and a thief of 
 a brother-in-law who pops the inheritance into his own pocket ! " 
 
 " Thief ! thief ! " stammered Auguste, unable to contain him- 
 self any longer ; " the thieves are here, madame ! " 
 
 They both stood with heated countenances in front of each 
 other. Monsieur Josserand, quite upset by all this wrangling, 
 separated them. He beseeched them to be calm ; and, trem- 
 bling all over, he was obliged to sit down again. 
 
 " Any how," resumed the son-in-law after a pause, " I won't 
 have any strumpet in rny home. Keep your money and keep 
 your daughter. That is what I came up to tell you." 
 
 " You are changing the subject," quietly observed the mother. 
 " Very well, we will discuss the fresh one." 
 
 But the father, too weak to rise, surveyed them with a 
 frightened air. He no longer understood what they were 
 talking about. Who was the strumpet? Then when, on 
 listening to them, he learnt that it was his daughter, something 
 gave way within him there was a gaping wound, through 
 which the rest of his life slowly ebbed away. Good heavens ! 
 was his child to be the cause of his death? Was he to be 
 punished for all his weakness through her, whom he had not 
 known how to bring up ? The idea that she was in debt, and 
 continually quarrelling with her husband, was already the bane 
 of his old age, and made him endure all the torments of his 
 own life over again. And no\v she had descended to adultery, 
 to that last degree of woman's wickedness, which roused the 
 worthy man's simple, honest indignation. Speechless aud icy 
 cold, he listened to the quarrel of the other two.
 
 PIPING HOT J 331 
 
 " I told you she would deceive me ! " cried Auguste with an 
 air of indignant triumph. 
 
 " And I answered that you were doing everything to lead to 
 such a result ! " declared Madame Josserand victoriously. " Oh ! 
 I do not pretend that Berthe is right; what she has done is 
 simply idiotic; and she won't lose anything by waiting. I 
 shall let her know what I think of it. But, however, as she is 
 not present, I can state the fact, you alone are guilty." 
 
 "What! I guilty?" 
 
 "Undoubtedly, my dear fellow. You don't know how to 
 deal with women. Here's an instance ! Do you even deign to 
 come to my Tuesday receptions ? No, you perhaps put in an 
 appearance three times during the season, and then only stay 
 half-an-hour. Though one may have headaches, one should be 
 polite. Oh 1 of course, it's no great crime ; any how it judges 
 you, you don't know how to live." 
 
 Her voice hissed with a slowly gathered rancour; for, on 
 marrying her daughter, she had above all counted on her son- 
 in-law to fill her drawing-room. And he brought no one, he did 
 not even come himself; it was the end of one of her dreams, 
 she would never be able to struggle against the Duveyriers' 
 choruses. 
 
 " However," added she ironically, " I force no one to come 
 and amuse himself in my home." 
 
 " The truth is, it is not very amusing there," replied he, out 
 of all patience. 
 
 This threw her into a towering rage. 
 
 " That's it, insult away 1 Learn, sir, that I might have all 
 the high life of Paris if I wished, and that I was not looking to 
 you to help me to keep my rank in society ! " 
 
 There was no longer any question of Berthe, the adultery 
 had disappeared before this personal quarrel. Monsieur Josse- 
 rand continued to listen to them, as though he were tossing 
 about in the midst of some nightmare. It was not possible, his 
 daughter could not have caused him this grief ; and he ended 
 by painfully rising again from his seat and going, without saying 
 a word, in search of Berthe. Directly she was there, she would 
 throw herself into Augnste's arms, and then everything would be 
 explained and forgotten. He found her in the midst of a quarrel 
 with Hortense, who was urging her to implore her husband's 
 forgiveness, having already had enough of her, and being un- 
 willing to share her room any longer. The young woman re- 
 sisted, yet she ended by following her father. As they returned
 
 332 PIPING HOT! 
 
 to the dining-room, where the breakfast cups were still scattered 
 over the table, Madame Josserand was exclaiming : 
 
 " No, on my word of honour ! I don't pity you." 
 
 On catching sight of Berthe she stopped speaking, and again 
 retired into her stern majesty. When his wife appeared before 
 him, Auguste made a gesture of protest, as though to remove 
 her from his path. 
 
 " Come," said Monsieur Josserand in his gentle and trembling 
 voice, " what is the matter with you all ? I can't make it out ; 
 you will drive me mad with all your quarrelling. Your husband 
 is mistaken, is he not, my child 1 You will explain things to 
 him. You must have a little consideration for your old parents. 
 Embrace each other, now come, do it for my sake." 
 
 Berthe, who would all the same have kissed Auguste, stood 
 there awkwardly, and half-choked by her dressing-gown, on 
 seeing him draw back with an air of tragical repugnance. 
 
 " What ! you refuse to, my darling ? " continued the father. 
 " You should take the first step. And you, my dear boy, en- 
 courage her, be indulgent." 
 
 The husband at length gave free vent to his anger. 
 
 " Encourage her, not if I know it ! I found her in her 
 chemise, sir ! and with that man ! Do you take me for a fool, 
 that you wish me to kiss her ! In her chemise, sir ! " 
 
 Monsieur Josserand stood lost, in amazement. Then he 
 caught hold of Berthe's arm. 
 
 " You say nothing ; can it be true ? On your knees, then ! " 
 
 But Auguste had reached the door. He was hastening away. 
 
 " Your comedies are useless ! they don't take me in ! Don't 
 try to shove her on my shoulders again, I've had her once too 
 often. You hear me, never again ! I would sooner go to law 
 about it. Pass her on to some one else, if she's in your way. 
 And, besides, you're no better than she is ! " 
 
 He waited till he was in the anteroom, and then further re- 
 lieved himself by shouting out these last words : 
 
 "Yes, when one makes a strumpet of one's daughter, one 
 should not push her into a respectable man's arms !" 
 
 The outer door banged, and a profound silence ensued. 
 Berthe had mechanically gone back to her seat at the table, 
 lowering her eyes, and looking at the coffee dregs in the bottom 
 of her cup ; whilst her mother sharply walked about, carried 
 away by the tempest of her violent emotions. The father, 
 utterly worn out, and with a face as white as that of a corpse, 
 had sat down all by himself at the other end of the room,
 
 PIPING HOT! 333 
 
 against the walL An odour of rancid butter, butter of inferior 
 quality purposely bought at the Halles, quite infected the 
 apartment. 
 
 " Now that that vulgar person has gone," said Madame 
 Josserand, " one may be able to hear oneself speak. Ah ! sir, 
 these are the results of your incapacity. Do you at length 
 acknowledge your errors ? think you that such quarrels would 
 be picked with either of the brothers Bernheim, with one of 
 the owners of the Saint-Joseph glass works 1 No, you cannot 
 think so. If you had listened to me, if you had simply pocketed 
 your employers, that vulgar person would have been at our feet, 
 for he evidently only wants money. Have money and people 
 will respect you, sir. It is better to create envy than pity. 
 Whenever I have had twenty sous, I have always said that I had 
 forty. But you, sir, you don't care if I go out barefooted, you 
 have disgracefully deceived your wife and your daughters in 
 dragging them through this beggar's existence. Oh ! do not 
 deny it, it is the cause of all our misfortunes ! " 
 
 Monsieur Josserand, with a lifeless look in his eyes, had not 
 even stirred. She had stopped, before him, with an enraged 
 desire for a row ; then, seeing he did not move, she continued 
 to pace the room. 
 
 " Yes, yes, be disdainful. You know it will not affect me 
 much. And we will see if you will again dare to speak ill of 
 my relations after all that yours have done. Uncle Bachelard 
 is quite a star ! my sister is most polite ! Listen, do you wish 
 to know my opinion ? well ! it is that if my father had not died, 
 you would have killed him. As for your father " 
 
 Monsieur Josserand's face became whiter than ever as he re- 
 marked : 
 
 " I beseech you, E16onore. I abandon my father to you, and 
 also all my relations. Only, I beseech you, let me be. I do 
 not feel well." 
 
 Berthe, taking pity on him, raised her head. 
 
 " Do leave him alone, mamma," said she. 
 
 So, turning towards her daughter, Madame Josserand re- 
 sumed more violently than ever : 
 
 "I've been keeping you for the last, you won't lose by 
 waiting ! Yes, ever since yesterday I've been bottling it up. 
 But, I warn you, I can no longer keep it in I can no longer 
 keep it in. With that counter-jumper, I can scarcely believe 
 it ! Have you, then, lost all pride ] I thought that you were 
 making use of him, that you were just sufficiently amiable to
 
 334 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 cause him to interest himself in the business downstairs ; and 
 I assisted you, . I encouraged him. In short, tell me what 
 advantage you saw in it all 1 " 
 
 "None whatever," stammered the young woman. 
 
 " Then why did you take up with him 1 It was even more 
 stupid than wicked." 
 
 " How absurd you are, mamma : one can never explain such 
 things." 
 
 Madame Josserand was again walking about. 
 
 " Ah ! you can't explain ! Well ! but you ought to be able 
 to ! There is not the slightest shadow of sense in misbehaving 
 oneself like that, and it is this which exasperates me ! Did I 
 ever tell you to deceive your husband 1 did I ever deceive your 
 father ? He is here, ask him. Let him say if he ever caught 
 me with any other man." 
 
 Her pace slackened and became quite majestic; and she 
 slapped herself on her green bodice, driving her breasts back 
 under her arms. 
 
 " Nothing, not a fault, not the least forgetfulness, even in 
 thought. My life has been a chaste one. Yet God knows what 
 I have had to put up with from your father ! I have had every 
 excuse ; many women would have avenged themselves. But I 
 had some sense, and that saved me. Therefore, as you see, he 
 has not a word to say against me. He remains there on his 
 chair without being able to make a single complaint. I have 
 right on my side, I am virtuous. Ah ! you big ninny, you have 
 no idea how stupid you have been ! " 
 
 And she doctorally gave a lecture on morality in its bearings 
 to adultery. Was not Auguste now in a position to act the 
 master to her ? She had supplied him with a terrible weapon. 
 Even if they lived together again, she could never have the 
 least argument with him, without being shut up at once. Eh 1 
 a pretty position ! how pleasant it would be, always having to 
 bend her back ! It was all over, she must now bid good-bye to 
 all the little benefits she might have secured from an obedient 
 husband, from whom she might have exacted every kindness 
 and consideration. No, it were far better to live virtuous, than 
 to no longer have the upper hand in one's own home ! 
 
 "Before heaven!" said she, "I swear I would have restrained 
 myself, evenif the Emperor had pestered me ! One loses too much." 
 
 She took a few steps in silence, apparently reflecting, and then 
 added, 
 
 " Moreover, it is the greatest possible shame."
 
 PIPING HOT ! 335 
 
 Monsieur Josserand looked at her, looked at his daughter, and 
 his lips moved, though no sound caine from them ; and his 
 whole suffering being conjured them to put an end to this cruel 
 explanation. But Berthe, who bent before violence, was 
 wounded by her mother's lesson. She at length rebelled, for 
 she was quite unconscious of her fault, thanks to the old educa- 
 tion which she had received when a girl in search of a husband. 
 
 " Well ! " said she, boldly planting her elbows on the table, 
 " you should not have made me marry a man I did not love. 
 Now I hate him, and I have taken another." 
 
 And so she went on. All the story of her marriage was again 
 gone over in her short phrases, which she let out little by little: 
 the three winters spent in angling for men, the fellows of every 
 colour into whose arms she was thrown, and the ill-success at- 
 tending this offer of her body in the authorised thoroughfares of 
 middle-class drawing-rooms ; then, all that which mothers teach 
 dowerless girls, a regular course of decent and permitted prosti- 
 tution, the contact of the flesh when dancing, hands abandoned 
 behind doors, the immodesty of innocence speculating on the 
 appetites of simpletons ; then, the husband hooked one fine 
 evening, just like a street-walker landing her man, the husband 
 caught behind a curtain, excited and falling into the trap, in 
 the fever of his desire. 
 
 " In short, he bores me and I bore him," declared she. " It's 
 not my fault, we don't understand one another. As early as 
 the morrow of our wedding-day, he looked as though he thought 
 we had taken him in ; yes, he was cold and put out, just like 
 when he has a bad day's sale. For my part, I did not amuse 
 myself particularly with him. Really ! I don't think much of 
 marriage if it offers no more pleasure than that ! And that's 
 how it all began. So much the worse ! it was bound to come ; 
 I'm not the most guilty." 
 
 She left off speaking, but shortly added with an air of pro- 
 found conviction : 
 
 ' ' Ah ! mamma, how well I understand you now ! You re- 
 member, when you told us you had had more than enough of 
 it." 
 
 Madame Josserand, standing up before her, had been listen- 
 ing for a minute with indignant amazement. 
 
 " Eh ? I said that ! " cried she. 
 
 But Berthe, warming with her subject, would not stop. 
 
 " You have said so twenty times. And, besides, I should 
 have liked to have seen you in my place. Auguate is not kind
 
 336 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 like papa. You would have been fighting together aboiit money 
 matters before a week had passed. He would precious soon 
 have made you say that men are only good to be taken in ! " 
 " Eh ? I said that ! " repeated the mother quite beside herself. 
 She advanced so menacingly towards her daughter, that the 
 father held out his hands in a suppliant gesture imploring mercy. 
 The sounds of the two women's voices struck him to the heart 
 unceasingly; and, at each shock, .he felt the wound extend. 
 Tears gushed from his eyes as he stammered : 
 " Do leave off, spare me." 
 
 " No, it is dreadful ! " resumed Madame Josserand in louder 
 tones than ever. " This wretched creature now pretends I am 
 the cause of her shamelessness ! You will see she will soon 
 make out that it is I who have deceived her husband. So, it's 
 my fault ! for that is what you seem to mean. It's my fault ! " 
 Berthe remained with her elbows on the table, rery pale, but 
 resolute. 
 
 "It's very certain that if you had brought me up differently " 
 She did not finish. Her mother gave her a clout with all her 
 might, and such a hard one that it banged Berthe's head down on 
 to*the table-cover. Her hand had been itching to give it, ever 
 since the day before ; it had been making her fingers tingle, 
 the same as in those far-off days when the child used to over- 
 sleep herself. 
 
 " There ! " cried she, " that's for your education ! Your 
 husband ought to have beaten you to a jelly." 
 
 The young woman did not rise, but sat there sobbing, her 
 cheek pressed against her arm. She forgot her twenty-four 
 years, this clout brought her back to the slaps of other times, 
 to a whole past of timorous hypocrisy. All her resolution of 
 an emancipated grown-up person melted away in the great 
 sorrow of a little girl. 
 
 But, on hearing her weep so bitterly, the father was seized 
 with a terrible emotion. He at length got up, quite distracted, 
 and he pushed the mother away, saying : 
 
 " You wish then to kill me between you ? Tell me, must I 
 go on my knees to you ? " 
 
 Madame Josserand, having relieved her feelings, and having 
 nothing to add, was withdrawing in a royal silence, when she 
 found Hortense listening behind the door as she suddenly 
 opened it. This caused a fresh outburst. 
 
 " Ah 1 so you were listening to all this filth ? The one does 
 the most horrible things, and the other takes a delight in hear-
 
 PIPING HOT! 337 
 
 ing about them ; the two make the pair. But, good heavens ! 
 who ever was it that brought you up 1 " 
 
 Hortense, without being in the least moved, entered the room. 
 
 " It was not necessary to listen, one can even hear you in tho 
 kitchen. The servant is wriggling with laughter. Besides, I'm 
 old enough to be married ; there is no harm in my knowing." 
 
 " Verdier, eh 1 " resumed the mother bitterly. " That's all 
 the satisfaction you give me. Now, you are waiting for tho 
 death of a brat. You may wait, she's big and plump, so I've 
 been told. It serves you right." 
 
 A rush of bile gave a yellow hue to the young girl's skinny 
 countenance And, with clenched teeth, she replied : 
 
 " Though she's big and plump, Verdier can leave her. And I 
 will make him leave her sooner than you think, just to spite 
 you all. Yes, yes, I will get married without any one else's 
 assistance. They're far too solid, the marriages you put to- 
 gether ! " 
 
 Then, as her mother was advancing towards her, she added : 
 
 " Ah ! you know, I don't intend to be slapped ! Take care." 
 
 They looked each other straight in the eyes, and Madame 
 Josserand was the first to yield, hiding her retreat beneath an 
 air of scornful domination. But the father thought the battle 
 was going to begin again. Then, when, surrounded by these 
 three women, he beheld this mother and these daughters, all 
 those he had loved, end by devouring one another, he felt a 
 whole world give way beneath him and went off to seek refuge 
 in the bedroom, as though wounded to death and desirous of 
 dying there in peace. In the midst of his sobs, he kept re- 
 peating : 
 
 " I can bear it no longer I can bear it no longer " 
 
 The dining-room became once more wrapped in silence. 
 Berthe, her cheek on her arm, and still heaving long nervous 
 sighs, was growing calmer. Hortense had quietly seated her- 
 self at the other end of the table, and was buttering the 
 remainder of a roll, so as to pull herself together again. Then, 
 she made her sister positively desperate by a host of sad 
 remarks : their home was becoming quite unbearable ; in her 
 place, she would sooner receive cuffs from her husband than 
 from her mother, for it was more natural ; when she married 
 Verdier, she would send her mother to the right about, so as to 
 have no such scenes in her home. At this moment Adele 
 came to clear the table; but Hortense continued, saying that 
 they would receive notice to quit, if that sort of thing went on ; 
 
 Y
 
 338 PIPING HOT! 
 
 and the servant was of the same opinion : she had been obliged 
 t) shut the kitchen window, for Lisa and Julie were already 
 poking their noses in that direction. She nevertheless thought 
 it all awfully funny too, she was still laughing at it ; Madame 
 Berthe had come in for it sadly, she was the most hurt of the 
 lot. Then, rolling her big body about, she uttered a profoundly 
 philosophical remark : after all, the house did not care, the 
 thing was to live well, every one would have forgotten all 
 about madame and her two gentlemen in a week. Hortense, 
 who nodded her approval of what she said, interrupted her to 
 complain of the butter, which was quite uneatable. Well! 
 butter at twenty-two sous could only be poison. And, as it 
 left a stinking deposit at the bottom of the saucepans, Adele 
 was explaining that it was not even economical, when a dull 
 thud, a distant shake of the floor, suddenly caused them to 
 listen intently. 
 
 Berthe, all anxiety, at length raised her head. 
 " What's that 1 " asked she. 
 
 " It's perhaps madame and the other lady, in the drawing- 
 room," said Adele. 
 
 Madame Josserand had started with surprise, as she crossed 
 the drawing-room. A woman was there, all alone. 
 
 "What? you again?" cried she, when she had recognised 
 Madame Dambreville, whom she had forgotten. 
 
 The latter did not stir. The family quarrels, the noisy 
 voices, the slamming of doors, seemed to have passed over her 
 without her having felt the least breath of them. She remained 
 immovable, looking into vacancy, buried in a heap in her love- 
 sick mania. But there was something at work within her, the 
 advice of Icon's mother had upset her, and was deciding her to 
 dearly purchase a few remnants of happiness. j 
 
 "Come," resumed Madame Josserand roughly, "you cant, 
 you know, sleep here. I have had a note from my son, he is 
 not coming." 
 
 Then Madame Dambreville spoke, her mouth all clammy 
 from her long silence, and as though she were just waking up. 
 
 " I am going, pray excuse me. And tell him from me that 
 I have reflected. I consent. Yes, I will reflect still further, 
 and perhaps I may help him to marry that girl, as he insists 
 upon it. But it is I who give her to him, and I wish him t< 
 ask me for her, me alone, you ^ understand ! Oh! he must 
 come back, he must come back ! " . 
 
 Her ardent voice became quite beseeching. She added
 
 PIPING HOT 1 339 
 
 lower tone, in the obstinate way of a woman who, after 
 sacrificing everything, clings to a last satisfaction, 
 
 " He shall marry her, but he must live with us. Otherwise 
 nothing will be done. I would sooner lose him." 
 
 And she went off. Madame Josserand was most charming 
 again. In the anteroom, she said all sorts of consoling things, 
 she promised to send her son submissive and tender, that very 
 evening, affirming that he would be delighted to live at his 
 aunt-in-law's. Then, when she had shut the door behind 
 Madame Dambreville's back, filled with a pitying tenderness she 
 thought : 
 
 " Poor boy ! what a price she will make him pay for it ! " 
 
 But, at this moment, she also heard the dull thud, which 
 caused the boards to tremble. Well 1 what was it 1 was the 
 servant smashing all the crockery, now ? She hastened to the 
 dining-room, and questioned her daughters. 
 
 " What is it 1 Is the sugar-basin broken ? " 
 
 u No, mamma. We don't know." 
 
 She turned round, looking for Adele, when she beheld her 
 listening at the door of the bedroom. 
 
 " Whatever are you doing 1 " cried she. " Everything is 
 being smashed in your kitchen, and your're there spying on 
 your master. Yes, yes, one begins with prunes, and one ends 
 with something else. For some time past, you have had a way 
 about you which greatly displeases me; you smell of men, my 
 girl-" 
 
 The servant stood looking at her with wide open eyes. At 
 length she interrupted her. 
 
 " That's not what's the matter. I think master has fallen 
 down in there." 
 
 " Good heavens ! she's right," said Berthe turning pale, " it 
 was just like some one falling." 
 
 They entered the room. Monsieur Josserand, seized with a 
 fainting fit, was lying on the floor before the bed ; his head had 
 come in contact with a chair, and a little stream of blood was 
 issuing from the right ear. The mother, the two daughters 
 and the servant surrounded and examined him. Berthe, alone, 
 wept, again seized with the bitter sobs which the blow had 
 called forth. And, when the four of them raised him to place 
 him on the bed, they heard him murmur : 
 
 " It's all over. They've killed me."
 
 840 
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 MONTHS passed by, and spring had come again. At the house 
 in the Rue de Choiseul, every one was talking of the approach- 
 ing marriage of Octave and Madame Hddouin. 
 
 Matters, however, were not so far advanced. Octave was 
 again in his old place at " The Ladies' Paradise," the business 
 of which developed daily. Since her husband's death, Madame 
 Hedouin was unable to attend properly to the incessantly grow- 
 ing concern by herself. Her uncle, old Deleuze, nailed to his 
 easy-chair by rheumatism, troubled himself about nothing ; and, 
 naturally, the young man, who was very active and a constant 
 prey to the mania for doing business on a large scale, had in a 
 little while reached a position of decisive importance in the 
 house. Moreover, still irritated by his silly amours with Berthe, 
 he no longer dreamed of utilizing women, but even dreaded 
 them. He thought the best thing for him to do was to become 
 Madame Hedouin's partner, and then to commence the dance of 
 millions. Recollecting therefore the ridiculous repulse he had 
 met with at her hands, he treated her as though she were a 
 man, which was the way she wished to be treated. 
 
 From this moment their relations became most intimate. 
 They would shut themselves for hours together in the small 
 room right at the back. In former days, when he had sworn 
 to himself to seduce her, he had pursued certain tactics there, 
 trying to take advantage of her commercial emotions, whisper- 
 ing figures close to her neck, watching for the days of heavy 
 takings to profit by her enthusiasm. Now, he was simply 
 good-natured, having no other aim but to push the business. 
 He no longer even desired her, though he retained the recol- 
 lection of her gentle quiver when waltzing with him on Berthe's 
 wedding-night. Perhaps she had loved. In any case it was best 
 to remain as they were ; for, as she justly said, the business 
 demanded a great amount of order, and it would be impolitic to 
 wish for things which would disturb them from morning till 
 night.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 841 
 
 Seated together at the narrow desk, they would often forget 
 themselves, after going through the books and settling the 
 orders. He would then return to his dreams of enlargement. 
 He had sounded the owner of the next house, and had found 
 him willing to sell. They would give notice to the second-hand 
 dealer and to the umbrella man, and then establish a special 
 department for silk. She, very grave, would listen, not daring 
 to venture yet. But she felt an increasing sympathy for 
 Octave's commercial faculties, recognising her own will in his, her 
 taste for business, the serious and practical side of her character, 
 beneath his gallant exterior of an amiable trader. And he dis- 
 played besides a warmth, an audacity, which were wanting in 
 her, and which filled her with emotion. It was introducing 
 fancy into trade, the only fancy that had ever troubled her. 
 He was becoming her master. 
 
 At length, as they sat side by side one evening examining 
 some invoices beneath the scorching flame of a gas-jet, she said 
 slowly : 
 
 " I have spoken to my uncle, Monsieur Octave, He consents, 
 so we will buy the house. Only " 
 
 He interrupted her joyfully to exclaim : 
 
 " Then the Vabres are done for ! " 
 
 She smiled, and murmured reproachfully : 
 
 " Do you detest them, then? It is not proper on your part ; 
 you are the last who should wish them ill." 
 
 She had never spoken to him of his relations with Berthe. 
 This sudden allusion embarrassed him immensely, without his 
 exactly knowing why. He blushed and tried to stammer out 
 some explanation. 
 
 " No, 110, it does not concern me," resumed she, still smiling 
 and veiy calm. " Excuse me, it quite escaped me ; I never in- 
 tended to speak to you on the subject. You are young. So 
 much the worse for those who are willing, is it not so ? It is 
 the place of the husbands to guard their wives, when the latter 
 are unable to guard themselves." 
 
 He experienced a sensation of relief, on understanding that 
 she was not angry. He had often dreaded a coldness on her 
 part if she came to know of his former connection. 
 
 "You interrupted me, Monsieur Octave," resumed she, 
 gravely. " I was about to add that if I purchase the next 
 house, and thus doable the importance of my business, it will 
 be impossible for me to remain single. I shall be obliged to 
 marry again."
 
 342 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 Octave sat lost in astonishment. What ! she already had a 
 husband in view, and he was in ignorance of it ! He at once 
 felt that his position there was compromised. 
 
 u My uncle," continued she, " told me so himself. Oh, there 
 is no hurry just yet. I have only been eight months in mourn- 
 ing ; I shall wait till the autumn. Only, in trade one must put 
 one's heart on one side, and consider the necessities of the 
 situation. A man is absolutely necessary here." 
 
 She discussed all this calmly, like a matter of business, and 
 he gazed on her regular and healthy beauty, on her pure com- 
 plexion beneath her neatly arranged black hair. Then he re- 
 gretted not having, since her widowhood, renewed the effort to 
 become her lover. 
 
 " It is always a very serious matter," stammered he ; " it re- 
 quires reflection." 
 
 No doubt, she was quite of that opinion. And she spoke of 
 her age. 
 
 " I am already old ; I am five years older than you, Monsieur 
 Octave" 
 
 Deeply agitated, yet thinking he understood, he interrupted 
 her, and seizing hold of her hands, he repeated : 
 " Oh, madame ! oh, madame ! " 
 
 But she rose from her seat and released herself. Then she 
 turned down the gas. 
 
 " No, that's enough for to-day. You have some very good 
 ideas, and it is natural I should think of you to put them into 
 execution. Only there will be a deal of worry; we must 
 thoroughly study the project. I know that at heart you are 
 very serious. Think the matter over on your side, and I will 
 think it over on mine. That is why I have named it to you. 
 We can talk about it again later on." 
 
 And things remained thus for weeks. The establishment 
 continued just the same as usual. As Madame Hedouin always 
 maintained her smiling serenity when in Octave's company, 
 without an allusion to the slightest tender feeling, he affected 
 on his side a similar peace of mind, and he ended by becoming 
 like her, healthfully happy, placing his confidence in the logic 
 of things. She often repeated that sensible things always 
 happened of themselves. Therefore she was never in a hurry. 
 The gossip which commenced to circulate respecting her intimacy 
 with the young man did not in the least affect her. They waited. 
 IntheRue'de Choiseul, therefore, the entire house vowed 
 that the marriage was as good as accomplished. Octave had
 
 PIPING HOT ! 343 
 
 given up his room to lodge in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin 
 near " The Ladies' Paradise." He no longer visited any one, 
 neither the Campardons, nor the Duveyriers, who were quite 
 shocked at the scandal of his amours. Monsieur Gourd him- 
 self, whenever he saw him, pretended not to recognise him so 
 as to avoid having to bow. Only Marie and Madame Juzeur, 
 on the mornings when they met him in the neighbourhood, 
 went and stood a moment in some doorway to have a 
 chat with him, Madame Juzeur, who passionately questioned 
 him respecting Madame Hedouin, tried to persuade him to 
 call upon her, so as to be able to talk the matter over 
 nicely ; and Marie, who was greatly distressed, complaining 
 of again being in the family way, and who told him of 
 Jules's amazement and of her parents' terrible anger. Then, 
 when the rumour of his marriage became more persistent, 
 Octave was surprised to receive a low bow from Monsieur 
 Gourd. Campardon, without exactly making friends again, 
 gave him a cordial nod across the street ; whilst Duveyrier, 
 calling one evening to buy some gloves, showed himself most 
 amiable. The entire house was beginning to pardon him. 
 
 Moreover, the house had resumed its course of middle-class 
 respectability. Behind the mahogany doors fresh abysses of 
 virtue were forming. The gentleman on the third floor came 
 to work one night a week; the other Madame Campardon 
 passed by with her rigid principles; the maid-servants displayed 
 dazzlingly white aprons ; and, in the lukewarm silence of the 
 staircase, the pianos alone, on every floor, gave vent to the 
 same waltzes, a distant, and, so to say, religious music. 
 
 However, the uneasiness caused by the adulterous act was 
 still there, imperceptible to uneducated people, but most dis- 
 agreeable to those of refined morals. Auguste obstinately 
 persisted in not taking his wife back, and so long as Berthe 
 lived with her parents, the scandal would not be effaced, there 
 would ever linger a material vestige of it. None of the 
 tenants, moreover, publicly related the true version of the story, 
 which would have been awkward for everybody. Of a common 
 accord, without even agreeing together, it had been decided to 
 say that the quarrel between Auguste and Berthe was on 
 account of the ten thousand francs, a mere question of money. 
 This was far more decent. This being understood, there was 
 no harm in talking of the matter before young ladies. Would 
 the parents pay, or would they not ? And the drama became 
 quite simple, for not an inhabitant of the neighbourhood was
 
 344 ririXC HOT! 
 
 surprised or indignant at the idea that money matters could be 
 the cause of blows in a family. It is true that in reality this 
 pleasant arrangement did not prevent things being as they 
 were ; and, in spite of its calm in the presence of misfortune, 
 the house cruelly suffered in its dignity. 
 
 It was Duveyrier especially who, as landlord, carried the 
 burden of this persistent and unmerited misfortune. For some 
 time past Clarisse had been torturing him to such a pitch, that 
 he would at times come home to his wife to weep. But the 
 scandal of the. adultery had struck him to the heart ; he saw, 
 said he, the passers-by look at his house from top to bottom, 
 that house which his father-in-law and he had striven to 
 decorate with every domestic virtue ; and as this sort of thing 
 could not be allowed to last, he talked of purifying the building 
 for his personal honour. Therefore, he urged Auguste, in the 
 name of public decency, to become reconciled with his wife. 
 Unfortunately Auguste resisted, backed up in his rage by 
 Theophile and Valerie, who had definitely installed themselves 
 at the pay-desk, and who were delighted with the existing dis- 
 cord. Then as matters were going badly at Lyons, and the 
 silk warehouse was in jeopardy for want of capital, Duveyrier 
 conceived a practical idea. The Josserands were probably 
 longing to get rid of their daughter : the thing to do was to 
 offer to take her back, but only on condition that they paid the 
 dowry of fifty thousand francs. Perhaps uncle Bachelard 
 would yield to their entreaties and give the money. At first, 
 Auguste violently refused to be a party to any such arrange- 
 ment; even were the sum a hundred thousand francs, he 
 would not think it sufficient. Then, becoming very anxious as 
 his April payments drew near, he had given in to the coun- 
 sellor's arguments, as the latter pleaded the cause of morality 
 and spoke merely of a good action to be done. 
 
 When they were agreed, Clotilde selected the Abbe 1 Mauduit 
 for negotiator. It was a delicate matter, only a priest could 
 interfere in it without compromising himself. It so happened, 
 that the reverend man was deeply grieved by the deplorable 
 catastrophes which had befallen one of the most interesting 
 households of his parish ; and he had already offered his 
 advice, his experience, and his authority, to put an end to a 
 scandal at which the enemies of religion might take delight 
 However, when Clotilde spoke to him of the dowry, asking him 
 'to be the bearer of Auguste's conditions to the Josserands, he 
 bowed his head, and maintained a painful silence,
 
 FIFING HOT 1 345 
 
 " It is money due that my brother asks for," repeated she. 
 " It is no bargain, understand. Moreover, my brother insists 
 upon it." 
 
 " It is necessary and I will go," said the priest at length. 
 
 The Josserands had been expecting the proposal for days. 
 Valerie must have spoken of it, all the tenants were discussing 
 the affair : were they so hard up as to be forced to keep their 
 daughter? would they be able to obtain the fifty thousand 
 francs to get rid of her 1 Since the question had reached this 
 point, Madame Josserand had been in a constant rage. What ! 
 after having had such trouble to marry Berthe at first, she now 
 had to marry her a second time ! Everything was upset, the 
 dowry was again demanded, all the money worries were going 
 to commence afresh ! Never before had a mother had such a 
 task to go through twice over. And all owing to the fault of 
 that silly fool, whose stupidity went so far as to make her for- 
 get her duty. 
 
 The house was becoming a hell upon earth; Berthe suffered a 
 continual torture, for even her sister Hortense, furious at no 
 longer sleeping alone, never uttered a sentence without intro- 
 ducing some insulting allusion into it. She was even re- 
 proached with the food she ate. When one had a husband 
 somewhere, it was all the same very funny that one should go 
 and share one's parents' meals, which were already too sparing. 
 Then, the young woman, in despair, would sob in corners, 
 accusing herself of being a coward, but unable to pick up 
 sufficient courage to go downstairs and throw herself at 
 Auguste's feet, and say : 
 
 " Here ! beat me, I cannot be more unhappy than I am." 
 
 Monsieur Josserand alone showed some affection for his child. 
 But that child's faults and tears were killing him ; he was dying 
 through the cruelties of the family, with an unlimited holiday 
 from business, spent mostly in bed. Doctor Juillerat who at- 
 tended him, talked of a decomposition of the blood : it was a 
 dissolution of the entire system, during which each organ was 
 attacked, one after the other. 
 
 " When you have made your father die of grief, perhaps you 
 will be satisfied ! " cried the mother. 
 
 And Berthe scarcely dared enter the invalid's room. 
 Directly the father and daughter met, they wept together, and 
 did each other a great deal of harm. 
 
 At length, Madame Josserand came to a grand decision : she 
 invited uncle Bachelard, resolved to humiliate herself once
 
 S4G PIPING HOT ! 
 
 more. She would have given the fifty thousand francs out of 
 her own pocket, if she had possessed them, so as not to have to 
 keep that big married girl, whose presence dishonoured her 
 Tuesday receptions. But she had learnt some shocking things 
 about the uncle, and if he did not do as she wished, she intended, 
 once for all, to give him a bit of her mind. 
 
 During dinner, Bachelard behaved in a most abominable 
 manner. He had arrived in an advanced stage of intoxication ; 
 for, since he had lost Fifi, he had fallen into the lowest depths 
 of vice. Fortunately, Madame Josserand had not invited any 
 one else, for fear of losing their esteem. He fell asleep at 
 dessert whilst relating some of his drivelling old rake's very 
 mixed stories, and they were obliged to wake him up to take 
 him into Monsieur Josserand's room. Everything had been 
 prepared there with a view of acting on the old drunkard's 
 feelings : before the father's bed were two arm-chairs, one for 
 the mother, the other for the uncle. Berthe and Hortense 
 would stand up. One would see whether the uncle would 
 again dare to deny his promises in the face of a dying man, in 
 such a sad room, dimly lighted by a smoky lamp. 
 
 " Narcisse," said Madame Josserand, "the situation is a grave 
 one" 
 
 And, slowly and solemnly, she explained this situation, her 
 daughter's regrettable misfortune, the husband's revolting 
 venality, the painful resolution she had been obliged to come to 
 of giving the fifty thousand francs, so as to put a stop to the 
 scandal which covered the family with shame. Then she 
 severely continued : 
 
 " Remember what you promised, Narcisse. On the evening of 
 the signing of the marriage contract, you again slapped your 
 chest and swore that Berthe might rely on her uncle's 
 affection. Well ! where is this affection ? the moment has 
 arrived to display it. Monsieur Josserand, join me. in showing 
 him his duty, if your weak state of health will allow you to 
 do so." 
 
 In spite of his great repugnance, the father murmured, out 
 of love for his daughter : 
 
 " It is true; you promised, Bachelard. Come, before I leave 
 you for ever, do me the pleasure of behaving as you should." 
 
 But Berthe and Hortense, in the hope of working upon the 
 uncle's feelings, had filled his glass once too often. He was in 
 such a fuddled condition, that one could not even take advan- 
 tage of him.
 
 PITIXG HOT ! 347 
 
 "Eli? what?" stuttered he, without having the least 
 necessity for exaggerating his intoxication. " Never promise 
 Don't understand Tell me again, Eleonore." 
 
 The latter recommenced her story, made weeping Berthe em- 
 brace him, beseeched him for the sake of her husband's health, 
 and proved to him that in giving the fifty thousand francs, he 
 would be fulfilling a sacred duty. Then, as he began to doze 
 off again, without appearing to be in the least affected by the 
 sight of the invalid or of the chamber of sickness, she abruptly 
 broke out into the most violent language. 
 
 " Listen ! Narcisse, this sort of thing has been lasting too 
 long you're a scoundrel ! I know of all your beastly goings-on. 
 You've just married your mistress to Gueulin, and you've given 
 them fifty thousand francs, the very amount you promised us. 
 Ah ! it's decent ; little Gueulin plays a pretty part in it all ! 
 And you, you're worse still, you take the bread from our mouth, 
 you prostitute your fortune, yes ! you prostitute it, by robbing 
 us of money which was ours for the sake of that harlot ! " 
 
 Never before had she relieved her feelings to such an extent. 
 Hortense busied herself with her father's medicine, so as not to 
 show her embarrassment. Monsieur Josserand, who was made 
 far worse by this scene, tossed about on his pillow, and mur- 
 mured in a trembling voice : 
 
 " I beseech you, Eleonore, do be quiet ; he will give nothing. 
 If you wish to say such things to him, take him away that I 
 may not hear you." 
 
 Berthe, on her side, sobbed louder than ever and joined her 
 father in his entreaties. 
 
 " Enough, mamma, do as papa asks. Good heavens ! how 
 miserable I am to be the cause of all these quarrels ! I would 
 sooner leave you all, and go and die somewhere." 
 
 Then, Madame Josserand deliberately put the question to the 
 uncle. 
 
 " Will you, yes or no, give the fifty thousand francs, so that 
 your niece may hold her head up ? " 
 
 Regularly scared, he tried to go into explanations. 
 
 " Listen a moment. I found Gueulin and Fifi together. 
 What could I do ? I was obliged to marry them. It wasn't 
 my fault." 
 
 " Will you, yes or no, give the dowry you promised ? " re- 
 peated she furiously. 
 
 He wavered, his intoxication increased to such a pitch that 
 he could scarcely find words to utter,
 
 348 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 " Can't, word of honour ! Completely ruined. Otherwise, 
 at once Candidly you know " 
 
 She interrupted him with a terrible gesture, and declared : 
 
 " Good, then I shall call a family council and have you de- 
 clared incapable of managing your affairs. When uncles be- 
 come drivelling, it's time to send them to an asylum." 
 
 At this, the uncle was seized with intense emotion. He 
 glanced about him, and found the room had a sinister aspect 
 with its feeble light ; he looked at the dying man who, held up 
 by his daughters, was swallowing a spoonful of some black 
 liquid and his heart overflowed, he sobbed as he accused his 
 sister of never having understood him. Yet, he had already 
 been made unhappy enough by Gueulin's treachery. They 
 knew he was very sensitive, and they did wrong to invite him 
 to dinner, to make him sad afterwards. In short, in place of 
 the fifty thousand francs, he offered all the blood in his veins. 
 
 Madame Josserand, who was quite worn out, had decided to 
 leave him to himself, when the servant announced Doctor 
 Juillerat and the Abbe Mauduit. They had met on the land- 
 ing, and entered together. The doctor found Monsieur Josser- 
 and much worse, he was still suffering from the shock occa- 
 sioned by the scene in Avhich he had been forced to play a part. 
 When, on his side, the priest wished to take Madame Josserand 
 into the drawing-room, having, he said, a communication to 
 make to her, the latter guessed on what subject he had called, 
 and answered majestically that she was with her family and 
 prepared to hear everything there ; the doctor himself would 
 not be in the way, for a physician was also a confessor. 
 
 "Madame," then said the priest with slightly embarrassed 
 gentleness, " you behold in the step I am taking an ardent de- 
 sire to reconcile two families " 
 
 He spoke of God's pardon, and of the great joy it would be 
 to him to be able to reassure all honest heai*ts, by putting an 
 end to an intolerable state of things. He called Berthe a miser- 
 able child, which again caused her tears to flow ; and all this in 
 such a paternal manner, in such choice expressions, that there 
 was no need for Hortense to retire. However, he was obliged 
 to come to the fifty thousand francs : there seemed to be 
 nothing more but for the husband and wife to embrace each 
 other, when he stated the formal condition of the payment of 
 the dowry. 
 
 " My dear Abbe" Mauduit, allow me to interrupt you," said 
 Madame Josserand. u We are deeply moved by your efforts.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 349 
 
 But never, you understand me ! never will we traffic in our 
 daughter's honour. People who have already become reconciled 
 over this child's back ! Oh ! I know all, they were at daggers 
 drawn, and now they are inseparable, reviling us from morning 
 till night. No, such a bargain would be a disgrace " 
 
 " It seems to me though, madame " ventured the priest. 
 
 But she drowned his voice, as she superbly continued : 
 
 " See ! my brother is here. You can question him. He was 
 again saying to me only a little while ago : ' Here are the fifty 
 thousand francs, Eleonore, settle this miserable matter!' Well! 
 ask him what reply I made. Get up, Narcisse. Tell the 
 truth." 
 
 The uncle had already again fallen asleep iu an arm-chair, at 
 the end of the room. He moved, and uttered a few discon- 
 nected words. Then, as his sister insisted, he placed his hand 
 on his heart, and stammered : 
 
 " When duty speaks, one must obey. The family comes be- 
 fore every thing." 
 
 " You hear him 1 " cried Madame Josserand, with a triumph- 
 ant air. " No money, it's disgraceful ! Tell those people 
 from us that we don't die, to avoid having to pay. The dowry 
 is here, we would have given it ; but, now that it's exacted as 
 the price of our daughter, the matter becomes too disgusting. 
 Let Auguste take Berthe back first, and then we will see later 
 on." 
 
 She had raised her voice, and the doctor, who was examining 
 his patient, was obliged to make her leave off. 
 
 "Speak lower, madame !" said he. " Your husband suffers." 
 
 Then the Abbe Mauduit, whose embarrassment had increased, 
 went up to the bedside, and found some kind words to say. 
 And he afterwards withdrew, without again referring to the 
 matter, hiding the confusion of having failed beneath his amiable 
 smile, with a curl of grief and disgust on his lips. As the 
 doctor went off in his turn, he roughly informed Madame Jos- 
 seraud that there was no hope for the invalid : the greatest 
 precautions must be taken, for the least emotion might carry 
 him off. She was thunderstruck, and returned to the dining- 
 room, where her two daughters and their uncle had already 
 withdrawn, to let Monsieur Josserand rest, as he seemed dis- 
 posed to go to sleep. 
 
 " Berthe," murmured she, " you have killed your father 
 The doctor has just said so." 
 
 And they all three, seated round the table, gave way to their
 
 350 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 grief, whilst uncle Bachelard, also in tears, mixed himself a 
 glass of grog. 
 
 When Auguste learnt the Josserands' answer, his rage against 
 his wife knew no bounds, and he swore he would kick her away, 
 the day she came to ask for forgiveness. Yet in reality, he 
 wanted her ; there was a voidness in his life, he seemed to be 
 out of his element, amidst the new worries of his abandonment, 
 quite as grave as those of his married life. Rachel, whom he 
 had kept on simply to annoy Berthe, robbed him and quarrelled 
 with him now, with the cool impudence of a spouse ; and he 
 ended by regretting all the little advantages of a joint existence, 
 the evenings spent in boring each other, and then the costly recon- 
 ciliations between the warm sheets. But he had especially had 
 enough of The'ophile and Valerie, who were quite at home down- 
 stairs now, filling the warehouse with their importance. He 
 even suspected them at times of pocketing some of the money, 
 without the least compunction. Valerie was not like Berthe, 
 she was delighted to throne herself at the pay-desk ; only 
 Auguste fancied that he noticed she attracted men, even in face 
 of her fool of a husband, whose persistent cough veiled his eyes 
 with continuous tears. Therefore he might just as well have 
 had Berthe there. She at least did not have the whole street 
 passing along the counters. 
 
 Besides all this, another more serious anxiety bothered him : 
 " The Ladies' Paradise " was prospering, and already menaced 
 his business, which decreased daily. He certainly did not re- 
 gret that miserable Octave, yet he was just, and recognised that 
 the fellow possessed very great abilities. How swimmingly 
 everything would have gone, had they only got on better to- 
 gether ! He was seized with the most tender regrets ; there 
 were hours when, sick of his loneliness, feeling life giving way 
 beneath him, he felt inclined to go up to the Josserands and ask 
 them to give Berthe back to him for nothing. 
 
 Duveyrier too, moreover, did not yield, and, more and 
 more cut up by the moral disfavour into which such an affair 
 threw his building, he was for ever urging his brother-in-law to 
 a reconciliation. He even pretended to put faith in Madame 
 Josserand's words, as reported by the priest : if Auguste took 
 back his wife unconditionally, they would certainly pay him the 
 dowry on the morrow. Then, as the latter again flew into a 
 frightful rage at the repetition of this statement, the counsellor 
 appealed more especially to his heart. He would take him 
 along the quays, on his way to the Palais de Justice ; he
 
 PIPING HOT ! 351 
 
 preached to him of the forgiveness of injuries in a voice choked 
 with emotion, and fed him with a cowardly and lamentable 
 philosophy, according to which the only possible felicity was to 
 put up with woman, as one could not do without her. 
 
 Duveyrier was visibly declining, and made the entire Rue de 
 Choiseul anxious on account of the sadness of his gait and the 
 paleness of his countenance, on which the red blotches gathered 
 and spread. An unavowable misfortune seemed to have over- 
 taken him. It was Clarisse who still fattened, and overflowed, 
 and who tortured him. As fast as she developed a middle-class 
 obesity, he found her all the more unbearable with her fine 
 education, and her rigorous gentility. Now, he was not al- 
 lowed to address her familiarly in the presence of her family ; 
 yet, in his presence, she would put her arms round her music 
 master's neck, and do all manner of things which intensely 
 grieved him. Having on two occasions caught her with Th^o- 
 dore, he had flown into a rage, and then had begged her par- 
 don on his knees, consenting to share with everyone. Moreover, 
 to keep him humble and submissive, she was continually allud- 
 ing in terms of repugnance to his pimples ; she had even had 
 the idea of passing him on to one of her cooks, a strapping 
 wench accustomed to dirty work ; but the cook would have 
 nothing to do with the gentleman. 
 
 Each day, life became more and more cruel for Duveyrier at 
 this mistress's where he encountered all the worries of his own 
 home again, but this time in the midst of a regular hell. The 
 whole tribe of hawkers, the mother, the big blackguard of a 
 brother, the two little sisters, even the invalid aunt, impudently 
 robbed him, lived on him openly, to the point of emptying his 
 pockets during the nights he slept there. His position was also 
 becoming a serious one in another respect : he had got to the 
 end of his money, he trembled at the thought of being compro- 
 mised on his judicial bench ; he could certainly not be removed ; 
 only, the young barristers were beginning to look at him in a 
 saucy kind of way, which made it awkward for him to adminis- 
 ter justice. And, when driven away by the filth and the up- 
 roar, seized with disgust of himself, he flew from the Rue 
 d'Assas and sought refuge in the Rue de Choiseul, his wife's 
 malignant coldness completed the crushing of him. Then, he 
 would lose his head, he would look at the Seine on his way to 
 the court, with thoughts of jumping in some evening when a 
 final suffering should impart to him the requisite courage. 
 
 Clotilde had noticed her husband's emotion, and felt anxious
 
 352 
 
 HOT ! 
 
 C?^^ 
 
 w The worst 
 
 nectum existing between her maid and h^f? ^ ilHcitcon - 
 aervants laughed, "the scandal Tas renort ^ f tman ^ ^ other 
 people, it was absolutely necesslrv Zhl f? 8 ^ the tradcs ' 
 if she wished to retain them ; aS ^ If * ?* ^ married 
 
 em ; 
 ^satisfied with C,mence; 
 
 *^ r %h ting with 
 employing the Abbe Maudu'f wW ' that , she decided on 
 
 seemed specially suited rZLlsion T^"^ Cbaracter 
 over, had been causing her a great 1,1 ?*' 8 ?7 imt8 ' more - 
 time past. When down in L^coLtr* ^^ f r Some 
 mtamooyofherbig hobbledehoy GustaTe wfth T r" ^ the 
 at one moment thought of sendino^ht if, u uhe ^ she had 
 though regretfully, fo r 8 he liked W I ^ Ut ber businc ^ 
 reflection, she had [decided tokelnL ? g - ; ^ afte "ound 
 ster should have a mistress at T' pre ^ erm g th at theyoung- 
 never be any trouble Th ere is J?S & -^ ^' rl who uld 
 get hold of outside, when he be'instnn^ ^ a ^ outh ma 7 
 mg them therefore without saving * ^"^ , She Was ^- 
 two m t needg wo ' rr Ct. J and ' "^ the ther 
 
 Duveyrier was 
 
 that the Abbe Mauduit was takin^h 
 Monsieur Josserand. After meetL h 
 
 i c 
 
 i said that he would come again this veir't ' 
 
 * ~ h -^" ^ W bef a,,en 
 ght i " Juck * 
 
 , 
 
 Saint-Iioch, where she awaited tl A?? - lV T ier hast e"ed to
 
 PIPING HOT ! 353 
 
 he was unable to refuse to enlighten the maid and the footman 
 on the immorality of their position. Moreover, the other mat- 
 ter would have obliged him to return shortly to the Rue de 
 Choiseul, for poor Monsieur Josserand would certainly not last 
 through the night ; and he mentioned that he sa\v in this cir- 
 cumstance a cruel, but happy opportunity for reconciling Au- 
 guste and Berthe. He would try and an ange the two affairs 
 simultaneously. It was high time that heaven consented to 
 bless their efforts. 
 
 " I have prayed, madame," said the priest. " The Almighty 
 will triumph." 
 
 And indeed, that evening at seven o'clock, Monsieur Josser- 
 and's death agony began. The entire family was there, except- 
 ing uncle Bachelard who had been sought for in vain in all the 
 cafe's, and Saturnin who was still confined at the Asile des Moul- 
 ineaux. Leon, whose marriage was most unfortunately post- 
 poned through his father's illness, displayed a dignified grief. 
 Madame Josserand and Hortense showed some courage. Berthe 
 alone sobbed so loudly, that, so as not to affect the invalid, she 
 had gone and stowed herself away in the kitchen, where A dele, 
 taking advantage of the general confusion, was drinking some 
 mulled wine. Monsieur Josserand expired in the quietest fash- 
 ion; it was his honesty which finished him. He had passed a use- 
 less life, and he went off like a worthy man tired of the wicked 
 things of the world, heart-broken by the quiet indifference of 
 the only beings he had ever loved. At eight o'clock, he stam- 
 mered out Saturnin's name, turned his face to the wall, and ex- 
 pired. No one thought him dead, for all had dreaded a terrible 
 agony. They sat patiently for some time, letting him, as they 
 thought, sleep. When they found he was already becoming 
 cold, Madame Josserand, in the midst of the general wailing, 
 flew into a passion with Hortense, whom she had instructed td 
 fetch Auguste, counting on restoring Berthe to the latter's arm! 
 amidst the great grief of her husband's last moments. 
 
 " You think of nothing ! " said she, wiping her eyes. 
 
 " But, mamma," replied the girl in tears ; "no one thought 
 papa would go off so suddenly ! You told me not to go for 
 Auguste till nine o'clock, so as to be sure of keeping him till 
 the end." 
 
 The sorely afflicted family found some distraction in this 
 quarrel. It was another matter gone wrong ; they never 
 succeeded in anything. Fortunately, there was still the funeral 
 to take advantage of to bring the husband and wife together. 
 
 z
 
 354 PIPING HOT! 
 
 The funeral was a pretty decent one, though it was not so 
 grand as Monsieur Vabre's. Moreover, it did not give rise to 
 nearly the same excitement in the house and the neighbour- 
 hood, for the deceased was not a landlord ; he was merely a 
 quiet-going body whose demise did not even disturb Madame 
 Juzeur's slumbers. Marie, who had been hourly expecting her 
 confinement since the day before, was the only one who ex- 
 pressed regret at having been unable to assist the ladies in 
 laying the poor gentleman out. Downstairs, Madame Gourd 
 contented herself with rising, as the coffin passed, and bowing 
 inside her room, without coming as far as the door. The 
 entire house, however, went to the cemetery : Duveyrier, Cam- 
 pardon, the Vabres, and Monsieur Gourd. They talked of the 
 spring and of the early crops, which would be greatly interfered 
 with by the heavy rains they were having. Campardou was 
 surprised to see Duveyrier looking so unwell ; and, as the 
 counsellor turned pale when the coffin was brought downstairs, 
 and seemed about to faint, the architect murmured : 
 
 " He has smelt the earthy odour. God grant that the house 
 may not sustain any further losses ! " 
 
 Madame Josserand and her daughters had to be supported 
 to their coach. Le"on, assisted by uncle Bachelard, was most 
 attentive, whilst Auguste followed behind in an embarrassed 
 way. He got into another coach with Duveyrier and Th^ophile. 
 Clotilde detained the Abbe Mauduit, who had not officiated, 
 but who had gone to the cemetery, wishing to give the family 
 a proof of his sympathy. The horses started on the homeward 
 journey more gaily ; and she at once asked the priest to return 
 to the house with them, for she felt that the time waa favour- 
 able. He consented. 
 
 The three mourning coaches silently drew up in the Rue de 
 Choiseul with the relations. Theophile at once rejoined 
 Valerie, who had remained behind to superintend a general 
 cleaning, the warehouse being closed. 
 
 " You may pack up," cried he, furiously. " They're all at 
 him. I bet he'll end by begging her pardon ! " 
 
 They all, indeed, felt a pressing necessity for putting an end 
 to the unpleasantness. Misfortune should at least be good for 
 something. Auguste, in the midst of them, understood very 
 well what they wanted ; and he was alone, without strength to 
 resist, and filled with shame. The relations slowly walked in 
 under the porch hung with black. No one spoke. On the 
 stairs, the silence continued, a silence full of deep thought ;
 
 PIPING HOT 1 355 
 
 whilst the crape skirts, soft and sad, ascended higher and 
 higher. Auguste, seized with a final feeling of revolt, had 
 taken the lead, with the intention of quickly shutting himself 
 up in his own apartments ; but, as he opened the door, 
 Clotilde and the priest, who had followed close behind, stopped 
 him. Directly after them, Berthe, dressed in deep mourning; 
 appeared on the landing, accompanied by her mother and her 
 sister. They all three had red eyes ; Madame Josserand 
 especially was quite painful to behold. 
 
 " Come, my friend," simply said the priest, overcome by 
 tears. 
 
 And that was sufficient. Auguste gave in at once, seeing 
 that it was better to make his peace at that honourable oppor- 
 tunity. His wife wept, and he wept also, as he stammered : 
 
 " Come in. We will try not to do it again." 
 
 Then the relations kissed all round. Clotilde congratulated 
 her brother ; she had had full confidence in his heart. Madame 
 Josserand showed a broken-hearted satisfaction, like a widow 
 who is no longer the least affected by the most unhoped-for 
 happiness. She associated her poor husband with the general 
 
 joy- 
 
 " You are doing your duty, my dear son-in-law. He who is 
 now in heaven thanks you." 
 
 " Come in," repeated Auguste, quite upset. 
 
 But Kachel, attracted by the noise, now appeared in the 
 anteroom ; and Berthe hesitated a moment in presence of the 
 speechless exasperation which caused the maid to turn ghastly 
 pale. Then she sternly entered, and disappeared with her 
 black mourning in the shadow of the apartment. Auguste 
 followed her, and the door closed behind them. 
 
 A deep sigh of relief ascended the staircase, and filled the 
 house with joy. The ladies pressed the hands of the priest 
 whose prayers had been granted. Just as Clotilde was taking 
 him off to settle the other matter, Duveyrier, who had lagged 
 behind with L&ra and Bachelard, arrived walking painfully. 
 The happy result had all to be explained to him ; but he, who 
 had been desiring it for months past, scarcely seemed to un- 
 derstand, a strange expression overspreading his face, and his 
 mind a prey to a fixed idea, the torture of which quite absorbed 
 him. Whilst the Josserands regained their apartments, he re- 
 turned to his own, behind his wife and the priest. And they 
 had just reached the anteroom, when some stifled cries caused 
 them to start.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 "Do not be uneasy, madame. It is the little lady upstairs 
 m labour, Hippolyte complaisantly explained. " I saw Dr. 
 Juillerat run up just now." 
 
 Then, when he was alone, he added philosophically : 
 
 " One goes, another comes." 
 
 Clotilde made the Abbe Mauduit comfortable in the draw in - 
 room, saying that shewouldfirst of all send him Clemence; and, to 
 help him to while away the time, she gave him the " Revue des 
 Deux Mondes," which contained some really charming verses. She 
 wished to prepare her maid for the interview. But on enterin^ 
 her dressing-room, she found her husband seated on a chair. ' 
 
 Ever since the morning, Duveyrier had been in a state of 
 agony. For the third time he had caught Clarisse with TheV 
 dore ; and, as he complained, the whole family of hawkers the 
 mother, the brother, the little sisters, had fallen upon him, and 
 driven him downstairs with kicks and blows ; whilst Clarisse 
 had called him a poverty-stricken wretch, and furiously 
 threatened him with the police if he ever dared to show himself 
 there again. It was all over down below the doorkeeper had 
 told him that for a week past a very rich old fellow had been 
 anxious to provide for madame. Then, driven away, and no 
 longer having a warm nook to nestle in, Duveyrier, after 
 wandering about the streets, had entered an out-of-the-way 
 shop and purchased a pocket revolver. Life was becoming too 
 sad; he could at least put an end to it, as soon as hehad 
 found a suitable place for doing so. This selection of a quiet 
 corner was occupying his mind, as he mechanically returned 
 to the Rue de Choiseul to assist at Monsieur Josseraud's 
 funeral. Then, when following the corpse, he had had a 
 sudden idea of killing himself at the cemetery : he would go to 
 the farthest end and hide behind a tombstone. This flattered 
 his_ taste for the romantic, the necessity for a tender ideal, 
 which was wrecking his life, beneath his rigid middle-class 
 attitude. But, as the coffin was being lowered into the grave, 
 he began to tremble, seized with an earthy chill. The 
 spot would decidedly not do ; he would have to seek elsewhere. 
 And, having returned in a worse state than ever, entirely a 
 prey to this one idea, he sat thinking on a chair in the dressing- 
 room, trying to decide which was the most suitable place in 
 the house : perhaps the bedroom, beside the bed, or simply 
 just where he was, without moving. 
 
 " Will you have the kindness to leave me to myself ? " said 
 Clotilde to him.
 
 PIPING HOT! 357 
 
 He already had his hand on the revolver in his pocket. 
 
 " Why 1 " asked he, with an effort. 
 
 " Because I wish to be alone." 
 
 He thought that she wanted to change her dress, and that 
 she would not even let him see her bare arms, so repugnant he 
 felt was he to her. For an instant he looked at her with his 
 dim eyes, and beheld her so tall, so beautiful, with a com- 
 plexion clear as marble, her hair gathered up in deep golden 
 tresses. Ah ! if she had only consented, how everything might 
 have been arranged ! He rose stumblingly from his chair, and, 
 opening his arms, tried to take hold of her. 
 
 " What now ? " murmured she, greatly surprised. " What's 
 the matter with you ? Not here, surely. Have you the other 
 one no longer then ? It is going to begin again, that abomina- 
 tion?" 
 
 And she exhibited such utter disgust, that he drew back. 
 Without a word, he left her, stopping in the anteroom as he 
 hesitated for a moment ; then, as there was a door facing 
 him, the door of the closet, he pushed it open ; and, with- 
 out the slightest hurry, he sat down. It was a quiet spot, 
 no one would come and disturb him there. He placed the 
 barrel of the little revolver in his mouth, and pulled the 
 trigger. 
 
 Meanwhile, Clotilde, who had been struck since the morning 
 by his strange manner, had listened to ascertain if he were 
 obliging her by returning to Clarisse. On learning where he had 
 gone, by a creak peculiar to that door, she no longer bothered 
 herself about him, and was at length in the act of ringing for 
 Cle"mence, when the dull report of a fire-arm filled her with sur- 
 prise. Whatever was it 1 it was just like the noise a saloon rifle 
 would make. She hastened to the anteroom, not daring at first 
 to question him ; then, as a strange sound issued from where 
 he was, she called him, and on receiving no answer opened the 
 door. The bolt had not even been fastened. Duveyrier, 
 stunned by fright more than by the injury he had received, re- 
 mained squatting, in a most lugubrious posture, his eyes wide 
 open, and his face streaming with blood. He had missed his 
 object. After grazing his jaw, the bullet had passed out again 
 through the left cheek. And he no longer had the courage 
 to fire a second time. 
 
 " What ! that is what you come to do here ? " cried Clotilde 
 quite beside herself. " Just go and kill yourself outside ! " 
 She was most indignant. Instead of softening her, this
 
 358 PIPING HOT! 
 
 spectacle threw her into a supreme exasperation. She bullied 
 him, and raised him up without the least precaution, wishing 
 to carry him away so that no one should see him in such a 
 place. In that closet ! and to miss killing himself too ! It was 
 too much. 
 
 Then, whilst she supported him to lead him to the bedroom, 
 Duveyrier, who had his throat filled with blood, and whose teeth 
 were dropping out, stuttered between two rattles : 
 
 " You never loved me ! " 
 
 A.nd he burst into sobs, he bewailed the death of poetry, that 
 little blue flower which it had beeu denied him to pluck. When 
 Clotilde had put him to bed, she at length became softened, 
 seized with a nervous emotion in the midst of her anger. The 
 worst of it was that Clemence and Hippolyte were coming in 
 answer to the bell She at first talked to them of an accident : 
 their master had fallen on his chin ; then she was obliged to 
 abandon this fable, for on going to wipe up the blood, the foot- 
 man had found the revolver. The wounded man was still los- 
 ing a great deal of blood, when the maid remembered that 
 Dr. Juillerat was upstairs attending to Madame Pichon, and 
 she hastened to him, meeting him on the staircase, on his way 
 home after a most successful delivery. The doctor immediately 
 reassured Clotilde; perhaps the jaw would be slightly out of its 
 place, but her husband's life was not in the least danger. He 
 was proceeding to dress the wound, in the midst of basins of 
 water and red stained rags, when the Abbe Mauduit, uneasy at 
 all this commotion, ventured to enter the room. 
 
 " Whatever has happened ? " asked he. 
 
 This question completed upsetting Madame Duveyrier. She 
 burst into tears, at the first words of explanation. The priest, 
 fully aware of the hidden miseries of his flock, had moreover quite 
 understood matters. Already whilst waiting in the drawing- 
 room he had been taken with a feeling of uneasiness, and almost 
 regretted the success which had attended his efforts, that 
 wretched young woman whom he had once more united to her 
 husband without her showing the slightest remorse. He was 
 filled with a terrible doubt, perhaps God was not with him. 
 And his anguish still further increased as he beheld the 
 counsellor's fractured jaw. He went up to him, bent upon 
 energetically condemning suicide. But the doctor, who was 
 very busy, thrust him aside. 
 
 " After me, my dear Abbe Mauduit. By-and-by. You can 
 see very well that he has fainted."
 
 CLOTILDE LEADING AWAY HER HT7SBAXD AFTER HIS ATTEMPTED 
 
 SUICIDE. p.
 
 PIPING HOT 359 
 
 And indeed, directly the doctor touched him, Duveyrier had 
 lost consciousness. Then Clotilde, to get rid of the servants 
 who were no longer needed, and whose staring eyes embarrassed 
 her very much, murmured, as she wiped her eyes : 
 
 "Go into the drawing-room. Abbe" Mauduit has something 
 to say to you." 
 
 The priest was obliged to take them there. It was another 
 unpleasant piece of business. Hippolyte and Cle"mence followed 
 him in profound surprise. When they were alone together, he 
 began preaching them a rather confused sermon : heaven re- 
 warded good behaviour whereas a single sin led one to hell ; 
 moreover, it was time to put a stop to scandal and to think of 
 one's salvation. Whilst he spoke thus, their surprise turned to 
 bewilderment ; with their hands hanging down beside them, 
 she with her slender limbs and tiny mouth, he with his flat 
 face and his big bones like a gendarme, they exchanged anxious 
 glances ! Had madame found some of her napkins upstairs in a 
 trunk? or was it because of the bottle of wine they took up with 
 them every evening 1 
 
 "My children," the priest ended by saying, "you set a bad 
 example. The greatest of crimes is to pervert one's neighbour, 
 and to bring the house where one lives into disrepute. Yes, 
 you live in a disorderly way which unfortunately is no longer a 
 secret to anyone, for you have been fighting together for a week 
 past." 
 
 He blushed ; a modest hesitation caused him to choose his 
 words. Meanwhile the two servants had sighed with relief. 
 They smiled now and strutted about in quite a happy manner. 
 It was only that ! really there was no occasion to be so 
 frightened ! 
 
 " But it's all over, sir," declared Cl^mence, glancing at Hip- 
 polyte in the fondest manner. " We have made it up. Yes, 
 he explained everything to me." 
 
 The priest, in his turn, exhibited an astonishment full of sad- 
 ness. 
 
 " You do not understand me, my children. You cannot con- 
 tinue to live together, you sin against God and man. You 
 must get married." 
 
 At this, their amazement returned. Get married ! whatever 
 for? 
 
 " I don't want to," said Clemence. "I've quite another 
 idea." 
 
 Then the Abbe Mauduit tried to convince Hippolyte.
 
 360 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 " Come, my fine fellow, you who are a man, use }'our influ- 
 ence with her, talk to her of her honour. It will change 
 nothing in your mode of living. Be married." 
 
 The footman grinned in a jocular and embarrassed manner. 
 At length he declared, as he looked down at the toes of his 
 boots : 
 
 "I daresay, I don't say the contrary; but I'm already 
 married." 
 
 This answer put a stop to all the priest's moral preaching. 
 Without adding a word, he folded up his arguments, and put 
 religion, now become useless, back into his pocket, deeply re- 
 gretting ever having risked it in such a disgraceful matter. 
 Clotilde, who rejoined him at this moment, had heard every- 
 thing ; and she gave vent to her indignation in a furious ges- 
 ture. At her order, the footman and the maid left the room, 
 one behind the other, looking very serious, but in reality feeling 
 highly amused. After a short pause, Abb6 Mauduit complained 
 bitterly : why expose him in that manner? why stir up things 
 it was far better to let rest ? The condition of affairs had now 
 become most disgraceful. But Clotilde repeated her gesture : 
 so much the worse ! she had far greater worries. Moreover, 
 she would certainly not send the servants away, for fear the 
 whole neighbourhood learnt the story of the attempted suicide 
 that very evening. She would decide what to do later on. 
 
 "You will not forget, will you? the most complete repose," 
 urged the doctor, coming from the bedroom. " He will get 
 over it perfectly, but all fatigue must be avoided. Take 
 courage, madame." 
 
 And, turning towards the priest he added : 
 
 " You can preach him a sermon later on, my dear friend. I 
 do not give him up to you yet. If you are returning to Saint- 
 Roch, I will accompany you ; we can walk together." 
 
 They both went downstairs, and the house once more resumed 
 its great peacefulness. Madame Juzeur had lingered in the 
 cemetery, trying to ensnare Trublot whilst reading the inscrip- 
 tions on the tombstones with him, and, in spite of his little 
 liking for fruitless flirtations, he had been obliged to bring her 
 back to the Rue de Choiseul in a cab. The sad mishap which 
 had befallen Louise had filled the poor lady with melancholy. 
 When they reached their destination, she was still speaking of 
 the wretched creature whom she had sent back the day before 
 to the foundling hospital : a cruel experience, a final illusion 
 destroyed, which, at the same time, carried away her hope of
 
 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 ever finding a virtuous maid-servant. Then, when in the door- 
 way, she ended by inviting Trublot to come and have a chat 
 with her sometimes. But he excused himself on account of his 
 work. 
 
 At this moment, the other Madame Campardon passed them. 
 They bowed to her. Monsieur Gourd informed them of Madame 
 Pichon's happy deliverance. Then they were all of Monsieur 
 and Madame Vuillaume's opinion: three children for a 
 mere clerk was rank madness; and the doorkeeper even 
 gave a hint that if another came the landlord would 
 give them notice to quit, for too many children degraded 
 a building. But they ceased talking as a veiled lady, 
 leaving behind her an odour of verbena, lightly glided into the 
 vestibule, without saying a word to Monsieur Gourd, who pre- 
 tended not to see her. That morning he had prepared every- 
 thing in the distinguished gentleman's apartment on the third 
 flcor for a night of work. 
 
 Moreover, he had only just time to cry out to the other two : 
 " Take care ! they would run over us like dogs." 
 It was the carriage of the second floor people who were 
 going but. The horses pawed the ground beneath the porch, 
 the father and the mother, reclining on the back seat, smiled 
 at their children, two lovely fair children, whose little hands 
 were contending for a bunch of roses. 
 
 " What people ! " murmured the indignant doorkeeper. 
 " They did not even go to the funeral, for fear of being as 
 polite as others. They splash one, yet if one only chose to 
 speak ! " 
 
 " What now ? " asked Madame Juzeur deeply interested. 
 Then Monsieur Gourd related that some one had come from 
 the police, yes, from the police ! The man on the second floor 
 had written such a disgusting novel, that he was going to be 
 sent to Mazas prison. 
 
 " The most horrible things 1 " continued he, in a tone of 
 disgust, "It's full of filthiness about the most respectable 
 people. It is even said that the landlord is mentioned in it ; 
 exactly, Monsieur Duveyrier himself ! What cheek ! Ah ! they 
 do well to hide themselves and never to associate with any of 
 the other tenants ! We know now what they manufacture, 
 with their air of keeping themselves to themselves. And yet, 
 you see, they have their carriage, and they sell their filth for its 
 weight in gold ! " 
 
 It was this thought especially which exasperated Monsieur
 
 362 PIPING HOT 
 
 Gourd. Madame Juzeur only read poetry, Trublot declared 
 that he knew nothing of literature. Yet, they weve both 
 blaming the gentleman for defiling the house which sheltered 
 his family in his writings, when some ferocious yells, and some 
 most abominable expressions, came from the farthest end of the 
 courtyard . 
 
 " You big cow ! you were only too glad to have me, to let 
 your men out I You hear me, you damned camel ! there's no 
 need to send some one to tell you ! " 
 
 It was Rachel, whom Berthe had sent about her business, and 
 who was relieving her feelings on the servants' staircase. This 
 quiet and respectful girl, whom even the other servants could 
 never get to talk, had suddenly given way to a fit of passion, 
 similar to the bursting of a main sewer. Already beside her- 
 self because of madame's return to her husband, whom she had 
 been robbing at her ease during their separation, she had be- 
 come simply furious when told to fetch a porter to take away 
 her trunk. Standing up in the kitchen, Berthe listened in a be- 
 wildered sort of way ; whilst Auguste, who was at the door for 
 the purpose of turning her out, received the vile expressions 
 and the atrocious accusations full in the face. 
 
 " Yes, yes," continued the enraged servant, " you didn't turn 
 me out, on the night when your lover was obliged to dress 
 himself in the midst of my saucepans, whilst I kept your 
 cuckold waiting at the door, to give you time to get cool again ! 
 Ah ! you strumpet 1 " 
 
 Filled with shame, Berthe went and hid herself in the bed- 
 room. But Auguste could not . retire : he turned pale and 
 trembled all over at these filthy revelations, shouted out on a 
 staircase ; and the only words he could find to say, to express 
 his anguish at thus learning all the coarse details of the in- 
 trigue just at the very moment he had forgiven it, were, 
 " Wretched woman ! wretched woman ! " The other servants 
 had all come out on to the landings of their kitchens. They 
 leant over the balusters, and did not miss a word ; but even 
 they were astonished at Rachel's violence. Little by little, a 
 feeling of consternation drove them away. It ended by passing 
 all limits. Lisa summed up the general opinion by saying : 
 
 "Ah! no, one may gossip, but it's not right to treat one's 
 employers thus." 
 
 Every one went off, leaving the girl to relieve her feelings 
 all by herself, for it was becoming awkward listening to things 
 which were unpleasant for everybody ; more especially, as she
 
 PIPING HOT I 
 
 took to abusing the whole house. Monsieur Gourd was the 
 fi'st to return to his room, observing that one could do nothing 
 with a woman in a passion. Madame Juzeur, whose delicacy 
 was deeply wounded by this cruel disclosure of love seemed so 
 upset, that Trublot, much against his wish was obliged to see 
 her to her apartment for fear she might faint Was it n 
 unfortunate ^everything had been settled there no longer 
 remained the least subject for scandal, the house was already 
 resuming its peaceful respectability, and now this horrid 
 creature must needs go and again stir up things > which ^had 
 been buried in oblivion, and which no one cared anything ir 
 
 about ! 
 
 -I'm only a servant, but I'm respectable! ' yelled she, throw- 
 ing all her Length into the cry. And there's not one of you 
 lady strumpets in the whole of your wretched house who can 
 say the same ! Never fear, I'm going, you all disgust me too 
 
 . .11 
 
 much ! " 
 
 The* Abbe Mauduit and Doctor Juillerat were slowly descend- 
 incr the stairs. They too had heard. A great peacefulness now 
 refined over all: the courtyard was empty, the staircase de- 
 serted; the doors seemed walled up, not a curtain at the 
 windows moved j and all that issued from the closed apart- 
 ments was a silence full of dignity. 
 
 The priest halted beneath the porch, as though worn out wit! 
 
 fatigue. 
 
 " What miseries ! " murmured he sadly. 
 
 The doctor nodded his head as he replied : 
 
 " Such is life." . 
 
 Thev would make these avowals to one another when leaving 
 in company the chamber of death or the bedside of a mother 
 and her new-born babe. In spite of their opposite beliefs, they 
 acnreed at times on the question of human infirmities. They 
 were both in the' same secrets: if the priest listened to the 
 ladies' confessions, the doctor, on the other hand, had for thirty 
 years past attended the mothers in their confinements and pre 
 scribed for the daughters. 
 
 Heaven is abandoning them," remarked the priest. 
 
 No " said the doctor, " do not mix heaven up in the matter. 
 They are either ill or badly brought up, that is all. 
 
 And, without pausing, he spoilt this conclusion by violently 
 accusing the Empire: under a republican government things 
 would certainly go much better. But, in the midst of these 
 flights of a mediocre man, came the just observations of an c
 
 364 PIPING HOT! 
 
 practitioner, thoroughly acquainted with the wrong side of his 
 neighbourhood. He spoke his mind about the women, those 
 whom a doll-like education corrupted or stultified, others whose 
 sentiments and whose passions were perverted by a hereditary 
 neurosis ; he did not show himself, however, more tender to- 
 wards the men, fellows who finished ruining their constitutions, 
 beneath their hypocritical good behaviour ; and, in the midst 
 of his Jacobinical outburst, there sounded the stubborn knell of 
 a caste, the decomposition and collapse of the middle-classes, 
 whose rotten supports were cracking of themselves. Then, he 
 again floundered, he talked of the barbarians, and announced 
 universal happiness. 
 
 " I am more religious than you are," concluded he. 
 
 The priest seemed to have been silently listening. But he 
 did not hear, he was entirely taken up by his sad reverie. 
 After a pause, he murmured : 
 
 " If they are unconscious, may heaven have mercy upon 
 them ! " 
 
 Then, they left the house, and slowly followed the Rue 
 Neuve-Saint-Augustin. A fear of having said too much kept 
 them silent, for they both had need to be careful in their 
 positions. As they raised their heads, on arriving at the end 
 of the street, they beheld Madame Hedouin smiling at them, 
 at the door of " The Ladies' Paradise." Standing behind her 
 was Octave, also laughing. That very morning they had 
 settled on their marriage, after a serious conversation. They 
 would wait till the autumn. And they were both full of joy at 
 having at length arranged the matter. 
 
 " Good day, my dear Abbe" Mauduit ! " said Madame Hedouin 
 gaily. " And you, doctor, always paying visits 1 " 
 
 And, as the latter congratulated her on her good looks, she 
 added : 
 
 " Oh ! if there were only me, you might give up business at 
 once." 
 
 They stood conversing a moment. The doctor having men- 
 tioned Marie's confinement, Octave seemed delighted to hear of 
 his former neighbour's happy delivery. But, when he learnt 
 that it was a third daughter, he exclaimed : 
 
 '' Can't her husband manage a boy, then 1 She thought she 
 might still get Monsieur and Madame Vuillaume to put up 
 with a boy ; but they'll never stomach another girl." 
 
 " I should think not," said the doctor. " They have both 
 taken to their bed, the news of their daughter's preguaucy
 
 PIPING HOT ! 365 
 
 upset them so much. And they sent for a notary, so that 
 their son-in-law should not even inherit their furniture." 
 
 There was a little chaff. The priest alone remained silent, 
 with his eyes cast on the ground. Madame Hedouin asked 
 him if he was unwell. Yes, he felt very tired, he was going to 
 take a little rest. And, after a cordial exchange of good wishes, 
 he went down the Rue Saint-Roch, still accompanied by the 
 doctor. On arriving before the church, the latter abruptly 
 said: 
 
 " A bad customer, eh 1 " 
 " Who is ? " asked the priest in surprise. 
 "That lady who sells linen. She does not care a pin for 
 either of us. No need for religion, nor for medicine. All the 
 same, when one is always so well, it is no longer interesting." 
 
 And he went on his way, whilst the priest entered the 
 church. 
 
 A bright light penetrated through the broad windows, with 
 their white panes edged with yellow and pale blue. Not a 
 sound, not a movement, troubled the deserted nave, wherein 
 the marble facings, the crystal chandeliers, and the gilded 
 pulpit, slumbered in the peaceful brightness. It was the quiet, 
 the substantial comfort of a middle-class drawing-room, with 
 the coverings taken off the furniture for the grand evening re- 
 ception. All by herself, a woman, in front of the chapel of Our 
 Lady of the Seven Dolours, was watching the tapers burn as 
 they emitted an odour of melting wax. 
 
 Abbe" Mauduit intended to go up to his room. But a great 
 agitation, a violent necessity, had forced him to enter the 
 church and kept him there. It seemed to him that God was 
 calling him, with a confused and far-off voice, the orders pro- 
 ceeding from which he was unable to catch. He slowly crossed 
 the church, and was trying to read within himself, to quiet his 
 alarms, when, suddenly, as he passed behind the choir, a super- 
 human spectacle shook his entire frame. 
 
 It was beyond the marble chapel of the Virgin, as white as 
 a lily, beyond the gold and silver plate of the chapel of the 
 Adoration, with its seven golden lamps, its golden candelabra, 
 and its golden altar shining in the tawny shadow of the aureate 
 stained windows; it was in the depths of this mysterious night, 
 past this tabernacle background, a tragical apparition, a simple 
 yet harrowing drama : Christ nailed to the cross, between the 
 Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalen, weeping at his feet; and the 
 white statues, which an invisible light coming from above
 
 866 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 caused to stand out from against the bare wall, seemed to 
 advance and increase in size, making the bleeding humanity of 
 this death, and these tears, the divine symbol of eternal woe. 
 
 The priest, thoroughly distracted, fell on his knees. He had 
 whitened that plaster, arranged that mode of lighting, prepared 
 that phenomenon ; and, now that the hoarding was removed, 
 the architect and the workmen gone, he was the first to be 
 thunderstruck at the sight. From the terrible severity of the 
 Calvary came a breath which overpowered him. He fancied 
 he felt the Almighty passing over him ; he bent beneath this 
 breath, filled with misgivings, tortured by the thought that he 
 was perhaps a bad priest. 
 
 Oh, Lord ! had the hour struck for no longer covering the 
 ills of this decomposed world with the mantle of religion? Was 
 he no longer to assist in the hypocrisy of his flock, no longer to 
 be always there, like a master of the ceremonies, to direct the 
 order of its follies and its vices ? Was he then to let all col- 
 lapse, even though the Church herself might be carried away 
 by the fall ? Yes, such was the order no doubt, for the strength 
 to go farther forward in human misery was abandoning him, he 
 was agonizing through powerlessness and disgust. All the 
 abominations he had mingled with since the morning, were 
 stifling him. And, with his hands ardently clasped before him, 
 he prayed for pardon, pardon for his lies, pardon for the weak 
 complaisances, and the base promiscuousness. The fear of God 
 came over him, he beheld God disowning him, forbidding him 
 any longer to abuse His name, a God of anger resolved at last 
 to exterminate the guilty. All the worldly man's tolerances 
 disappeared before the unbridled scruples of his conscience, and 
 there only remained the faith of the believer, terrified and 
 struggling in the uncertainty of salvation. Oh, Lord ! which 
 was the straight road, what should be done in the midst of that 
 expiring society which even contaminated its priests ? 
 
 Then, the Abbe" Mauduit, his eyes fixed on the Calvary, 
 sobbed aloud. He wept like the Virgin Mary and Mary Mag- 
 dalen, he mourned for truth dead, for heaven empty. And 
 right beyond the marble ornaments and the jewelled plate, the 
 great plaster Christ was without a drop of blood.
 
 367 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 IN December, the eighth month of her mourning, Madame 
 Josserand for the first time accepted an invitation to dine out. 
 It was merely at the Duveyriers', almost a family gathering, 
 with which Clotilde opened her Saturday receptions of the new 
 winter. The day before, Adele had been told that she would 
 have to help Julie with the washing-up. The ladies were in 
 the habit of thus lending their servants to each other on the 
 days when they gave parties. 
 
 " And above all, try and put a little more go into yourself," 
 said Madame Josserand to her maid- of-all- work. " I don't 
 know what you've got in your body now, you're as limp as rags. 
 Yet you're fat and plump." 
 
 Adele was simply nine months gone in the family way. For 
 a long time she had thought she was merely growing stouter, 
 which greatly surprised her however ; and she would get into a 
 perfect rage, with her ever hungry empty stomach, on the days 
 when madame triumphantly showed her to her guests : ah, 
 well ! those who accused her of weighing her servant's bread 
 might come and look at that great glutton, it was not likely 
 she got so fat by merely licking the walls ! When, in her 
 stupidity, Adele at length became aware of her misfortune, she 
 restrained herself twenty times from telling the truth to her 
 mistress, who was really taking advantage of her condition to 
 make the neighbourhood think that she was at length feeding 
 her. 
 
 But, from this moment, terror stultified her entirely. Her 
 village ideas once more took possession of her obtuse skull. 
 She thought herself damned, she fancied that the gendarmes 
 would come and take her, if she admitted her pregnancy. 
 Then, all her low cunning was made use of to hide it. She 
 concealed the feelings of sickness, the intolerable headaches, the 
 terrible constipation from which she suffered ; twice she thought 
 she would drop down dead before her kitchen fire, whilst 
 stirring some sauces. The pain that she had endured for the
 
 368 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 two last months with the obstinacy of a heroic silence was in- 
 deed frightful. 
 
 Adele went up to bed that night about eleven o'clock. The 
 thought of to-morrow evening terrified her : more drudgery, 
 more bullying by Julie ! and she could scarcely move about. 
 Yet, to her, her confinement was still an uncertain and far-off 
 affair, she preferred not to think of it, vaguely hoping that it 
 would no longer trouble her. She had, therefore, made no pre- 
 parations, and was without an idea, without a plan. She was only 
 comfortable when in her bed, stretched out on her back. As it 
 had been freezing since the day before, she kept her stockings 
 on, blew out her candle, and pulling the clothes tightly about 
 her waited to get warm. 
 
 During the night she was seized with labour pains, and a 
 desire came over her to move about, so as to walk them off. 
 She therefore lighted the candb and began to wander round the 
 room, her tongue dried up, tormented with a burning thirst, 
 and her cheeks on fire. Hours passed in this cruel wandering, 
 without her daring to put on her shoes, for fear of making a 
 noise, whilst she was only protected against the cold by an old 
 shawl thrown across her shoulders. Two o'clock struck, then 
 three o'clock. 
 
 Not a soul stirred in the adjoining rooms, every one was 
 snoring ; she could hear Julie's sonorous hum, whilst Lisa, made 
 a kind of hissing noise like the shrill notes of a fife. Four 
 o'clock had just struck, when seized with a violent pain, she 
 felt that the end was approaching, and could not restrain 
 uttering a loud cry. 
 
 At this the occupants of the other rooms began to rouse up. 
 Voices thick with sleep were heard saying : " Well ! what 1 
 who's being murdered \ Some one's being taken by force ! 
 Don't dream out loud like that!" Dreadfully frightened, she drew 
 the bed-clothes over the new-born child, which was uttering 
 plaintive cries like a little kitten. But she soon heard Julie 
 snoring again, after turning over ; whilst Lisa, once more asleep, 
 no longer uttered a sound. Then she experienced an immense 
 relief, an infinite comfort of calm and repose, and lay as one 
 dead. 
 
 She must have dozed thus for the best part of an hour. 
 When six o'clock struck, the consciousness of her position 
 awoke her again. Time was flying, she rose up painfully, and 
 did whatever things came into her head, without deciding on 
 them beforehand. A frosty moon shone full into the room.
 
 PIPING HOT ! 369 
 
 After dressing herself, she wrapped the infant up in some old 
 rags, and then folded a couple of newspapers around it. It 
 uttered no cry now, yet its little heart was beating. 
 
 Not one of the servants was about as yet, and after getting 
 slumbering Monsieur Gourd to unfasten the door from his room, 
 she was able to go out and lay her bundle in the Passage 
 Choiseul, the gates of which had just been opened, aud then 
 quietly return upstairs. She met no one. For once in her 
 lifetime, luck was on her side ! 
 
 She immediately set about tidying her room, after which, 
 utterly worn-out, and as white as wax, she again lay down. 
 It was thus that Madame Josserand found her, when she had 
 made up her mind to go upstairs towards nine o'clock, greatly 
 surprised at not seeing Adele come down. The servant having 
 complained of a violent attack of diarrhoea which had kept her 
 awake all night, madame exclaimed : 
 
 " Of course ! you must have eaten too much again ! You 
 think of nothing else but stuffing yourself." 
 
 The girl's paleness, however, made her uneasy, and she 
 talked of sending for the doctor ; but she was glad to save the 
 three francs, when Adele vowed that she merely needed rest. 
 Since her husband's death, Madame Josserand had been living 
 with her daughter Hortense on an allowance made her by the 
 brothers Bernheim, but which did not prevent her from bitterly 
 alluding to them as persons who lived on the brains of others ; 
 and she spent less than ever on food, so as not to descend to a 
 lower level of society by quitting her apartments and giving up 
 her Tuesday receptions. 
 
 " That's right ; sleep," said she. " There is some cold beef 
 left which will do for this morning, and to-night we dine out. 
 If you cannot come down to help Julie, she will have to do 
 without you." 
 
 The dinner that evening at the Duveyriers' was a very cordial 
 one. All the family was there : the two Vabres and their wives, 
 Madame Josserand, Hortense, Le"on, and even uncle Bachelard, 
 who behaved well. Moreover, they had invited Trublot to fill 
 a vacant place, and Madame Dambreville, so as not to separate 
 her from L^on. The latter, after his marriage with the niece, 
 had once again fallen into the arms of the aunt, who was still 
 necessary to him. They were seen to arrive together in all the 
 drawing-rooms, and they would apologise for the young wife, 
 whom a cold or a feeling of idleness, said they, kept at home. 
 That evening the whole table complained of scarce knowing 
 
 2A
 
 370 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 her : they loved her so much, she was so beautiful ! Then, 
 they talked of the chorus which Clotilde was to give at the end 
 of the evening ; it was the " Blessing of the Daggers" again, 
 but this time with five tenors, something complete and magis- 
 terial. For two monihs past, Duveyrier himself, who had be- 
 come quite charming, had been looking up the friends of the 
 house, and saying to every one he met: "You are quite a 
 stranger, come and see us ; my wife is going to give her choruses 
 again." Therefore, half through the dinner, they talked of 
 nothing but music. The happiest good nature and the most 
 free-hearted gaiety prevailed throughout. 
 
 Then, after the coffee, and whilst the ladies sat round the 
 drawing-room fire, the gentlemen formed a group in the parlour 
 and began to exchange some grave ideas. The other guests 
 were now arriving. And among the earliest were Campardon, 
 Abbe Mauduit, and Doctor Juillerat, without including the 
 diners, with the exception of Trublot, who had disappeared on 
 leaving the table. They almost immediately commenced talk- 
 ing politics. The debates in the Chamber deeply interested the 
 gentlemen, and they had not yet given over discussing the suc- 
 cess of the opposition candidates for Paris, all of whom had been 
 returned at the May elections. This triumph of the dissatisfied 
 portion of the middle-classes made them feel anxious at heart, 
 in spite of their apparent delight. 
 
 " Dear me ! " declared Leon, " Monsieur Thiers is certainly a 
 most talented man. But he puts such acrimony into his 
 speeches on the Mexican expedition that he quite spoils their 
 effect." 
 
 He had just been named to a higher appointment, through 
 Madame Dambreville's influence, and had at once joined the 
 government party. The only thing that remained in him of 
 the famished demagogue was an unbearable intolerance of all 
 doctrines. 
 
 " Not long ago you were accusing the government of every 
 sin," said the doctor smiling. " I hope that you at least voted 
 for Monsieur Thiers." 
 
 The young man avoided answering. Theophile, whose 
 stomach was no longer able to digest his food, and who was 
 worried with fresh doubts as to his wife's constancy, ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " I voted for him. When men refuse to live as brothers, so 
 much the worse for them ! " 
 
 "And so much the worse for yon, as well, eh?" remarked
 
 PIPING HOT ! 371 
 
 Duveyrier, who, speaking but little, uttered some very profound 
 observations. 
 
 Theophile, greatly scared, looked at him. Auguste no longer 
 dared admit that he had also voted for Monsieur Thiers. Then, 
 every one was very much surprised to hear uncle Bachelard 
 utter a legitimist profession of faith : he thought it the most 
 wenteel. Campardon seconded him warmly ; he bad abstained 
 from voting himself, because the official candidate, Monsieur 
 Dewinck, did not ofier sufficient guarantees as regards religion j 
 and he furiously declaimed against Kenan's " Life of Jesus," 
 which tfiad recently made its appearance. 
 
 " It is not the book that should be burnt, it is the author ! 
 
 repeated he. .**.*. 
 
 "You are, perhaps, too radical, my friend," interrupted the 
 priest in a conciliatory tone. " But, indeed, the symptoms are 
 becoming terrible. There is some talk of driving away the pope, 
 the revolution has invaded parliament. We are walking on the 
 edge of a precipice." 
 
 " So much the better ! " said Doctor Juillerat simply. 
 
 Then, the others all protested. He renewed his attacks 
 against the middle classes, prophesying that there would be a 
 cfean sweep, the day when the masses wished to enjoy power in 
 their turn ; and the others loudly interrupted him, exclaiming 
 that the middle classes represented the virtue, the industry, 
 and the thrift of the nation. Duveyrier was at length able to 
 make himself heard. He owned it before all: he had voted for 
 Monsieur Dewinck, not that Monsieur Dewinck exactly repre- 
 sented his opinions, but because he was the symbol of order. 
 Yes, the saturnalia of the Reign of Terror might one day return. 
 Monsieur Rouher, that remarkable statesman who had just 
 succeeded Monsieur Billault, had formally prophesied it in the 
 Chamber. He concluded with these striking words : 
 
 " The triumph of the opposition, is the preliminary subsidence 
 of the structure. Take care that it does not crush you in falling ! " 
 
 The other gentlemen held their peace, with the unavowed 
 fear of having allowed themselves to be carried away even to 
 compromising their personal safety. They beheld workmen 
 begrimed with powder and blood, entering their homes, violat- 
 ing their maid-servants and drinking their wine. No doubt, 
 the Emperor deserved a lesson ; only, they were beginning to 
 regret having given him so severe a one. 
 
 " Be easy ! " concluded the doctor scoffingly. " We will 
 manage to save you from the bullets."
 
 372 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 But he was going too far, they set him down as an original. 
 It was, moreover, thanks to this reputation for originality, that 
 he did not lose his connection. He continued, by resuming with 
 Abb6 Mauduit their eternal quarrel respecting the approaching 
 downfall of the Church. Leon now sided with the priest : he 
 talked of Providence and, on Sundays, accompanied Madame 
 Dambreville to nine o'clock mass. 
 
 Meanwhile, the guests continued to arrive, the drawing-room 
 was becoming quite filled with ladies. Valerie and Berthe were 
 exchanging little secrets like two good friends. The other 
 Madame Campardon, whom the architect had brought no doubt 
 in place of poor Rose, who was already in bed upstairs and 
 reading Dickens, was giving Madame Josserand an economical 
 recipe for washing clothes without soap ; whilst Hortense, 
 seated all by herself and expecting Verdier, did not take her 
 eyes off the door. But suddenly Clotilde, while conversing 
 with Madame Dambreville, rose up and held out her hands. 
 Her friend Madame Octave Mouret, had just entered the room. 
 The marriage had taken place early in November, at the end of 
 her mourning. 
 
 "And your husband?" asked the hostess. " He is not Agoing 
 to disappoint me, I hope ? " 
 
 " No, no," answered Caroline with a smile. " He will 
 be here directly ; something detained him at the last 
 moment." 
 
 There was some whispering, glances full of curiosity were 
 directed towards her, so calm and so lovely, ever the same, with 
 the pleasant assurance of a woman who succeeds in everything 
 she undertakes. Madame Josserand pressed her hand, as 
 though she were delighted to see her again. Berthe and Valerie 
 left off talking and examined her at their ease, studying her 
 costume, a straw colour dress covered with lace. But, in the 
 midst of this quiet forgetfulness of the past, Auguste, whom the 
 political discussion had left quite cool, was giving signs of indig- 
 nant amazement as he stood near the parlour door. What ! his 
 sister was going to receive the family of his wife's former lover ! 
 And, in his marital rancour, there was a touch of the jealous 
 anger of the tradesman ruined by a triumphant competition ; 
 for "The Ladies' Paradise," by extending its business and creat- 
 ing a special department for silk, had so drained his resources, 
 that he had been obliged to take a partner. He drew near, and 
 whilst every one was making much of Madame Mouret, he 
 whispered to Clotilde :
 
 PITIXG HOT ! 373 
 
 " You know, I will never put up with it." 
 
 " Put up with what?" asked she, greatly surprised. 
 
 " I do not mind the wife so much, she has not done me any 
 harm. But if the husband comes, I shall take hold of Berthe 
 by the arm, and leave the room in the presence of everybody." 
 
 She looked at him, and then shrugged her shoulders. Caro- 
 line was her oldest friend, she was certainly not going to give 
 up seeing her, just to satisfy his caprices. As though anyone 
 even recollected the matter. He would do far better not to 
 rake up things forgotten by everybody but himself. And as, 
 deeply affected, he looked to Berthe for support, expecting that 
 she would get up and follow him at once, she calmed him with 
 a frown ; was he mad ? did he wish to make himself more ridic- 
 ulous than he had ever been before ? 
 
 " But it is in order that I may not appear ridiculous ! " re- 
 torted he in despair. 
 
 Then Madame Josserand inclined towards him, and said in 
 a severe tone of voice : 
 
 " It is becoming quite ind;cent ; everyone is looking at you. 
 Do behave yourself for once in a way." 
 
 He held his tongue, but without submitting. From this mo- 
 ment a certain uneasiness existed amongst the ladies. The only 
 one who preserved her smiling tranquillity was Madame Mouret, 
 now sitting beside Clotilde and opposite Berthe. They watched 
 Auguste, who had retired to the window recess where his mar- 
 riage had been decided, not so very long before. His anger was 
 bringing on a headache, and he now and again pressed his fore- 
 head against the icy cold panes. 
 
 Octave did not arrive till very late. As he reached the land- 
 ing, he met Madame Juzeur, who had just come down, wrapped 
 in a shawl. She complained of her chest, and had got up on 
 purpose not to disappoint the Duveyriers. Her languid state 
 did not prevent her falling into the young man's arms, as she 
 congratulated him on his marriage. 
 
 " How delighted I am with such a splendid result, my friend ! 
 Really ! I was quite in despair about you, I never thought you 
 would have succeeded. Tell me, you rascal, how did you man- 
 age to get over her 1 " 
 
 Octave smiled and kissed her fingers. But some one who was 
 bounding upstairs with the agility of a goat, disturbed them ; 
 and, greatly surprised, they fancied they recognised Saturnin. 
 It was indeed Saturnin, who a week before had left the Asile 
 des Moulineaux, where for a second time Doctor Chassagne de-
 
 374 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 clined to detain him any longer, still considering him not suf- 
 ficiently mad. No doubt he was going to spend the evening 
 with Marie Pichon, just as in former days, when his parents had 
 company. And those bygone times were suddenly evoked. 
 Octave could hear an expiring voice coming from above, singing 
 the ballad with which Marie whiled away her vacant hours ; he 
 beheld her once more eternally alone, beside the crib in which 
 Lilitte slumbered, and awaiting Jules's return with all the com- 
 placency of a gentle and useless woman. 
 
 " I wish you every happiness with your wife," repeated Ma- 
 dame Juzeur, tenderly squeezing Octave's hands. 
 
 In order not to enter the drawing-room with her, he was 
 purposely occupying some time in removing his overcoat, when 
 Trublot, in his dress clothes, bareheaded, and looking quite 
 upset, came from the passage leading to the kitchen. 
 
 " You know she's not at all well ! " murmured he, whilst 
 Hippolyte announced Madame Juzeur. 
 
 " Who isn't ? " asked Octave. 
 
 " Why Adele, the servant upstairs." 
 
 Hearing there was something the matter with her, he had 
 gone up quite paternally, on leaving the dinner-table. It must 
 have been a very severe attack of cholerine ; a good glass of 
 mulled wine was what she ought to have, and she had not even 
 a lump of sugar. Then, as he noticed that his friend smiled in 
 an indifferent sort of way, he added : 
 
 " Hallo ! I forgot, you're married, you joker ! This sort of 
 thing no longer interests you. I never thought of that when I 
 found you with Madame Anything you like except that ! " 
 
 They entered together. The ladies were just then speaking 
 of their servants, and were taking such interest in the conver- 
 sation, that they did not notice them at first. All were com- 
 placently approving Madame Duveyrier, who was trying to 
 explain, in an embarrassed way, why she continued to keep 
 Cle"mence and Hippolyte : he was rough, but she dressed her 
 so well, that one could not help shutting one's eyes to other 
 matters. Neither Valerie nor Berthe could succeed in securing 
 a decent girl; they had given it up in despair, after trying 
 every registry office, the good-for-nothing servants from which 
 had done no more than pass through their kitchens. Madame 
 Josserand violently abused Adele, of whom she related some 
 fresh abominable and stupid doings of an extraordinary char- 
 acter ; and yet she did not send her about her business. As 
 for the other Madame Campardon, she was quite enthusiastic
 
 riPING HOT ! 875 
 
 in her praises of Lisa : a pearl, not a thing to reproach her 
 with, in short one of those deserving domestics to whom one 
 gives prizes. 
 
 " She is quite one of the family now," said she. ' Our little 
 Angele is attending some lectures at the HOtel de Ville, and 
 Lisa accompanies her. Oh ! they might remain out together 
 for days, we should not be in the least anxious." 
 
 It was at this moment that the ladies caught sight of Octave. 
 He was advancing to wish Clotilde good-evening. Berthe 
 looked at him ; then, without the least affectation, she resumed 
 her conversation with Valerie, who had exchanged with him 
 the affectionate glance of disinterested friendship. The others, 
 Madame Josserand, Madame Dambreville, without throwing 
 themselves at him, surveyed him with sympathetic interest. 
 
 " So here you are at last ! " said Clotilde, who was most 
 amiable. " I was beginning to tremble for the chorus." 
 
 And, as Madame Mouret gently scolded her husband for 
 being so late, he made some excuses. 
 
 " But, my dear, I was unable to come sooner. I am most 
 sorry, madame. However, I am now entirely at your disposal." 
 Meanwhile, the ladies were anxiously watching the window 
 recess into which Auguste had retired. They received a mo- 
 mentary fright when they beheld him turn round at the sound 
 of Octave's voice. His headache was no doubt worse, he had a 
 restless look about the eyes, which seemed full of the darkness 
 of the street. He at length appeared to make up his mind, 
 and returning to his former position beside his sister's chair, he 
 said : 
 
 " Send them away, or else we will leave." 
 Clotilde again shrugged her shoulders. Then, Auguste 
 seemed disposed to give her time to consider : he would wait a 
 few minutes longer, more especially as Trublot had taken 
 Octave into the parlour. The other ladies were still uneasy, 
 for they had heard the husband whisper in his wife's ear : 
 
 " If he comes back here, you must get up and follow me. 
 Otherwise, you may return to your mother's." 
 
 In the parlour, the gentlemen greeted Octave quite as cor- 
 dially. If Leon made a point of showing a little coolness, 
 uncle Bachelard and even The'ophile seemed to declare, as they 
 held out their hands to Octave, that the family forgot every- 
 thing. He congratulated Campai-don, who, decorated two days 
 previously, now wore a broad red ribbon; and the beaming 
 architect scolded him for never calling now and then to pass an
 
 376 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 hour with his wife : though one got married, it was scarcely 
 nice to forget friends of fifteen years' standing. But the young 
 man felt quite surprised and anxious as he stood before Duvey- 
 rier. He had not seen him since his recovery. He looked un- 
 easily at his jaw all out of place, dropping too much on the left 
 side, and which now gave a horrid squinting expression to his 
 countenance. Then, when the counsellor spoke, he had another 
 surprise : his voice had lowered two tones, it had become quite 
 sepulchral. 
 
 " Don't you think him much better thus 1 " said Trublot to 
 Octave, as they returned to the drawing-room door. " It 
 positively gives him a certain majestic air. I saw him presiding 
 at the assizes, the day before yesterday Listen ! they are 
 talking of it." 
 
 And indeed the gentlemen had abandoned politics to take up 
 morality. They were listening to Duveyrier as he gave some 
 details of an affair in which his attitude had been particularly 
 noticed. He was even about to be named a president and an 
 officer of the Legion of Honour. It was respecting an infanticide 
 already a year old. The unnatural mother, a regular savage, 
 as he said, happened to be the boot-stitcher, his former tenant, 
 that tall pale and friendless girl, whose pregnant condition had 
 roused Monsieur Gourd's indignation so much. And besides 
 that, she was altogether stupid ! for, without reflecting that her 
 appearance would betray her, she had gone and cut her child 
 in two and kept it at the bottom of a bonnet-box. She had 
 naturally told the jury quite a ridiculous romance : a seducer 
 who had deserted her, misery, hunger, and then a fit of mad 
 despair on seeing herself unable to supply the little one's wants: 
 in a word, the same story they all told. But it was necessary 
 to make an example. Duveyrier congratulated himself on 
 having summed up with that lucidity, which often decided a 
 jury's verdict. 
 
 "And what was your sentence? " asked the doctor. 
 
 " Five years," replied the counsellor in his new voice, which 
 seemed both hoarse and sepulchral. " It is time to oppose a 
 dyke to the debauchery which threatens to submerge Paris." 
 
 Trublot nudged Octave's elbow ; they were both acquainted 
 with the facts of the attempt at suicide. 
 
 " Eh ? you hear him ? " murmured he. " Without joking, it 
 improves his voice: it stirs one more, does it not? it goes 
 straight to the heart, now. Ah ! if you had only seen him, 
 Standing up, draped in his long red robes, with his mug all
 
 PIPING HOT ! 377 
 
 askew ! On my word ! he quite frightened me, he was extra- 
 ordinary, oh ! you know ! a style in his majesty enough to make 
 your flesh creep ! " 
 
 But he left off speaking, and listened to the ladies in the 
 drawing-room, who were again on the subject of servants. That 
 very morning, Madame Duveyrier had given Julie a week's 
 notice : she had nothing certainly to say against the girl's 
 cooking ; only, good behaviour came before everything in her 
 eyes. The truth was that, warned by Doctor Juillerat, and 
 anxious for the health of her son whose little goings-on she 
 tolerated at home, so as to keep them under control, she had 
 had an explanation with Julie, who had been unwell for some 
 time past : and the latter, like a genteel cook, whose style was 
 not to quarrel with her employers, had accepted her week's 
 notice. Madame Josserand at once shared Clotilde's indigna- 
 tion : yes, one should be very strict on the question of morality ; 
 for instance, if she kept that slut Adele in spite of her dirty 
 ways, and her stupidity, it was because the girl was virtuous. 
 Oh ! on that point, she had nothing whatever to reproach her 
 with! 
 
 " Poor Adele ! when one only thinks ! " murmured Trublot, 
 again affected at the thought of the wretched creature, half 
 frozen upstairs beneath her thin blanket. 
 
 Then, bending towards Octave's ear, he added with a 
 chuckle : 
 
 "I say, Duveyrier might at least take her up a bottle of claret ! " 
 
 " Yes, gentlemen," the counsellor was continuing, " statistics 
 will bear me out, the crime of infanticide is increasing in the 
 mos frightful proportions. Sentiment prevails to too great an 
 extent in the present day, and far too much consideration is 
 shown to science, to your pretended physiology, all of which 
 will end by there soon being neither good nor evil. One can- 
 not cure debauchery ; the thing is to destroy it at its root." 
 
 This refutation was addressed above all to Doctor Juillerat, 
 who had wished to give a medical explanation of the boot- 
 stitcher's case. 
 
 The other gentlemen also exhibited great severity and dis- 
 gust : Campardon could not understand vice, uncle Bachelard 
 defended infancy, The"ophile demanded an inquiry, Le"on dis- 
 cussed the question of prostitution in its relations with the 
 state ; whilst Trublot, in answer to an inquiry of Octave's, 
 talked of Duveyrier's new mistress, who was a decent sort of 
 woman this time, rather mature, but romantic, with a soul ex-
 
 378 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 panded by that ideal which the counsellor required to purify 
 love ; in short, a worthy person who gave him a peaceful home, 
 imposing upon him as much as she liked and sleeping with his 
 friends, without making any unnecessary fuss. And the Abbe 
 Mauduit alone remained silent, his eyes fixed on the ground, 
 his mind sorely troubled, and full of an infinite sadness. 
 
 They were now about to sing the " Blessing of the Daggers." 
 The drawing-room had filled up, a flood of rich dresses was crush- 
 ing in the brilliant light from the chandelier aud the lamps, 
 whilst gay bursts of laughter ran along the rows of chairs; and, 
 in the midst of the buzz, Clotilde in a low voice roughly 
 chided Auguste, who, on seeing Octave enter with the other 
 gentlemen of the chorus, had caught hold of Berthe's arm to 
 make her leave her seat. But he was already beginning to 
 yield, feeling more and more embarrassed in the presence of the 
 ladies' dumb disapproval, whilst his head had become entirely 
 the prey of triumphant neuralgia. Madame Dambreville's 
 stern looks quite drove him to despair, and even the other 
 Madame Campardon was against him. It was reserved to 
 Madame Josseraud to finish him off. She abruptly interfered, 
 threatening to take back her daughter and never to pay him 
 the fifty thousand francs dowry ; for she was always promising 
 this dowry with the greatest coolness imaginable. Then, turn- 
 ing towards uncle Bachelard, seated behind her, and next to 
 Madame Juzeur, she made him renew his promises. The uncle 
 placed his hand on his heart : he knew his duty, the family be- 
 fore everything ! Auguste repulsed on all sides, beat a retreat, 
 and again sought refuge in the window recess, where he 
 once more pressed his burning forehead against the icy cold 
 panes. 
 
 Then, Octave experienced a singular sensation as though his 
 Paris life was beginning over again. It was as though the two 
 years he had lived in the Rue de Choiseul had been a blank. 
 His wife was there, smiling at him, and yet nothing seemed to 
 have passed in his existence : to-day was the same as yesterday, 
 there was neither pause nor ending. Trublot showed him the 
 new partner standing beside Berthe, a little fair fellow very neat 
 in his ways, who gave her, it was said, no end of presents. 
 Uncle Bachelard, who was now going in for poetry, was reveal- 
 ing himself in a sentimental light to Madame Juzeur, whom he 
 quite affected with some intimate details respecting Fifi and 
 Gueulin. Theophile, devoured by doubts, doubled up by violent 
 fits of coughing, was imploring Doctor Juillerat in an out-of-the-
 
 HOT 1 379 
 
 way corner to give his wife something to quiet her. Cainpar- 
 don, his eyes fixed on cousin Gasparine, was talking of the dio- 
 cese of Evreux, and jumping from that to the great works of the 
 new Rue du Dix Decembre, defending God and art, sending the 
 world about its business, for at heart he did not care a hang 
 for it, he was an artist! And behind a flower-stand there could 
 even be seen the back of a gentleman whom all the marriage- 
 able girls contemplated with an air of profound curiosity : it 
 was Verdier, who was talking with Hortense, the pair of them 
 having an acrimonious explanation, again putting off their 
 marriage till the spring, so as not to turn the woman and her 
 child into the street in the depth of winter. 
 
 Then, the chorus was sung afresh. The architect, with his 
 mouth wide open, gave out the first line. Clotilde struck a 
 chord, and uttered her cry. And the other voices burst forth, 
 the uproar increased little by little, and spread with a violence 
 which scared the candles and caused the ladies to turn pale. 
 Trublot, having been found wanting among the basses, was be- 
 ing tried a second time as a barytone. The five tenors were 
 much noticed, Octave especially, to whom Clotilde regretted 
 being unable to give a solo. When the voices fell, and she had 
 applied the soft pedal, imitating the cadenced and distant foot- 
 steps of a departing patrol, the applause was deafening, and she, 
 together with the gentlemen, had every praise showered upon 
 them. And at the farthest end of the adjoining room, right 
 behind a triple row of men in evening dress, one beheld Duvey- 
 rier clenching his teeth so as not to cry aloud with anguish, with 
 his mouth all on one side, and his festering eruptions almost 
 bleeding. 
 
 The tea coming next, unrolled the same procession, distributed 
 the same cups and the same sandwiches. For a moment, the 
 Abbe Mauduit found himself once more in the middle of the 
 deserted drawing-room. He looked, through the wide open 
 door, on the crush of guests ; and vanquished, he smiled, he 
 again cast the mantle of religion over this corrupt middle- 
 cfass society, like a master of the ceremonies draping the 
 canker, to stave off the final decomposition. He must save 
 the Church, as heaven had not answered his cry of misery and 
 despair. 
 
 At length, the same as on every Saturday, when midnight 
 struck, the guests began to withdraw. Campardon was among 
 the first to leave, with the other Madame Campardon. Lon 
 and Madame Dambreville were not long in maritally following
 
 380 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 them. Verdier's back had long ago disappeared, when 
 Madame Josserand went off with Hortense, bullying her for 
 what she called her romantic obstinacy. Uncle Bachelard, 
 very drunk from the punch he had taken, detained Madame 
 Juzeur a moment at the door, finding her advice full of ex- 
 perience quite refreshing. Trublot, who had stolen some 
 sugar for Adele, was making for the passage leading to the 
 kitchen, when the presence of Berthe and Auguste in the ante- 
 room embarrassed him, and he pretended to be looking for his 
 hat. 
 
 But, just at this minute, Octave and his wife, escorted by 
 Clotilde, also came out and asked for their wraps. There 
 ensued a few seconds of embarrassment. The anteroom was 
 not large, Berthe and Madame Mouret were pressed against 
 each other, whilst Hippolyte was searching for their things. 
 They both smiled. Then, when the door was opened, the two 
 men, Octave and Auguste, brought face to face, did the polite, 
 each stepping aside. At length, Berthe consented to pass- out 
 first, after an exchange of bows. And Valerie, who was leaving 
 in her turn with The"ophile, again looked at Octave in the affec- 
 tionate way of a disinterested friend. He and she alone might 
 have told each other everything. 
 
 " Good-bye," repeated Clotilde graciously to the two families, 
 before returning to the drawing-room. 
 
 Octave stopped short. He had just caught sight on the 
 next floor of the partner, the neat little fair fellow, taking his 
 departure like the rest, and whose hands Saturniu, who had 
 just left Marie, was pressing in an outburst of savage tender- 
 ness, stuttering the while : " Friend friend friend " A 
 singular feeling of jealousy at first darted through him. Then, 
 he smiled. It was the past ; and he again recalled his amours, 
 all his campaign of Paris, the complaisances of that good little 
 Pichon, the repulse he received from Valerie of whom he pre- 
 served a pleasant recollection, his stupid connection with 
 Berthe which he regretted as pure waste of time. Now, he had 
 transacted his business, Paris was conquered ; and he gallantly 
 followed her whom in his heart he still styled Madame Hedouin, 
 every now and then stooping to see that the train of her dress 
 did not catch in the stair-rods. 
 
 The house had once more resumed its grand air of middle- 
 class dignity. He fancied he could hear Marie's distant and 
 expiring ballad. Beneath the porch he met Jules coming in : 
 Madame Vuillaume was at death's door and refused to see her
 
 PIPING HOT! 
 
 daughter. Then, that was all, the doctor and the priest retired 
 last and still arguing ; Trublot had slyly gone up to Adele 
 to attend to her ; and the deserted staircase slumbered in a 
 heavy warmth with its chaste doors enclosing respectable 
 alcoves. One o'clock was striking, when Monsieur Gourd, 
 whom Madame Gourd was snugly awaiting in bed, turned out 
 the gas Then, the whole house lapsed into silent darkness, as 
 though annihilated by the decency of its sleep. Nothing 
 remained, life resumed its level of indifference and stupidity. 
 
 On the following morning, Adele dragged herself down to her 
 kitchen, so as to aUay suspicion. A thaw had set in during 
 the night, and she opened the window, feeling stifled, when 
 Hippolyte's voice rose furiously from the depths of the narrow 
 courtyard. 
 
 " You dirty hussies ! Who has been emptying her slops out 
 of the window again 1 Madame's dress is quite spoilt !" 
 
 He had hung out one of Madame Duveyrier's dresses given 
 him to brush, and he found it all spattered with sour broth. 
 Then, from the top to the bottom, the servants appeared at 
 their windows and violently exculpated themselves. The 
 sluice was open and a rush of the most abominable words 
 flowed from the foul spot. In times of thaw, the walls were 
 steeped with humidity, and quite a pestilence ascended from the 
 obscure little courtyard, all thehidden corruptions of the different 
 floors seeming to melt and ooze out by this common sewer of 
 the house. 
 
 " It wasn't me," said Adele leaning out. " I ve only just 
 
 come." 
 
 Lisa abruptly raised her head. 
 
 "Hallo ! so you're on your legs again. Well what 
 was the matter ? Is it true you almost croaked ?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes, I had such colics, and not at all funny, I can tell 
 
 you !" 
 
 This put a stop to the quarrel. Vale"rie and Berthe's new 
 servants, a big camel and a little jade, as they were termed, 
 looked curiously at Adele's pale face. Vittoire and Julie also 
 wished to see her, and stretched their necks, and leant their 
 heads back. They all had an idea there was something wrong, 
 for it was unnatural to have such gripes and yell out as she 
 
 " Perhaps you've had something which didn't agree with you," 
 
 Baid Lisa. 
 
 The others burst out laughing, another rush of foul language
 
 382 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 
 
 overflowed, whilst the wretched creature, awfully frightened, 
 stammered : 
 
 ".Hold your tongues, with your nasty words ! I'm quite ill 
 enough as it is. You don't want to finish me oft, do you ? " 
 
 No, of course not. She was as stupid as stupid could be, 
 and dirty enough to disgust a whole neighbourhood ; but they 
 all held too closely together to wish to bring her into any 
 trouble. And they naturally turned to abusing their masters 
 and mistresses ; they criticised the party of the previous even- 
 ing with looks of profound repugnance. 
 
 " So they've all made it up again now ? " asked Yictoire as 
 she sipped her glass of syrup and brandy. 
 
 Hippolyte, who was wiping madame's dress, replied : 
 
 " They've no more heart than my shoes. When they've spat 
 in one another's faces, they wash themselves with it, to make 
 one believe they're clean." 
 
 " They must manage to agree somehow or other," said Lisa. 
 " Otherwise, it wouldn't 'take long before our turn came." < 
 
 But there was a moment of panic. A door opened, and the 
 servants were already diving back into their kitchens, when 
 Lisa announced that it was only little Angele : there was 
 nothing to fear with her, she understood. And, from the foul 
 spout, there again arose all the rancour of the domestics in the 
 midst of the poisonous stench caused by the thaw. There was 
 a grand spreading out of all the dirty linen of the last two 
 years. It was quite consoling not to be ladies and gentlemen, 
 when one beheld the masters and mistresses living in the midst 
 of it all, and apparently enjoying it, as they were preparing to 
 go through it all again. 
 
 " Eh ! I say, you, up there ! " suddenly shouted Victoire, 
 " was it with Mug-askew that you had what didn't agree with 
 you?" 
 
 At this, a ferocious yell of delight quite shook the stinking 
 cesspool. Hippolyte actually tore madame's dress ; but he did 
 not care, it was far too good for her as it was ! The big camel 
 and the little jade were bent over the hand-rails of their 
 windows, wriggling in a mad burst of laughter. Adele, how- 
 ever, who was .quite scared, and who was half asleep through 
 weakness, started, and she retorted in the midst of the jeers : 
 
 "You're all of you heartless things. When you're dying, 
 I'll come and dance at your bedsides." 
 
 " Ah ! mademoiselle," resumed Lisa, leaning out to speak to 
 Julie, " how happy you must feel at leaving such a wretched
 
 PIPING HOT ! 
 
 house iii a week ! On my word, one becomes wicked here in 
 spite of oneself. I wish you a better home in your next place. 
 
 Julie her arms bare, and dripping with the blood from a 
 turbot she had been just cleaning for that evening's dinner re- 
 turned to the window beside the footman. She shrugged her 
 shoulders and concluded with this philosophical reply : 
 
 " Dear me ! mademoiselle, here or there, they re all alike. 
 In the present day, whoever has been in the one has been in the 
 other. It's all Filth and Company." 
 
 THE END.
 
 42, CATHERINE STREET, STRAND, 
 MARCH, 1887. 
 
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 Etched by BocoiTRT/rom a drawing by FLAUBERT'S niece. Price 6s. 
 
 SALAMBO. 
 
 BY GUSTAVE FLAUBERT. 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH "EDITION DEFINITIVE" BY J. S. CHARTRES, 
 
 AND PREFACED BY AN ESSAY ON FLAUBEKT'S WORKS. 
 
 Press Opinions on Mr. J. S. Chartres's Translation of" Salambo." 
 
 " Some little while ago there was published an extraordinary bad translation of Flaubert's 
 ' Salambo' [by M. Frencn Sheldon], liy some moans (there are so many of these means) it was 
 puffed as even in our time few if any books BO bad have been puffed. Names of all sorts and 
 conditions of men ('the highest authorities iu tha land,' said the advertisement) were pressed 
 into its service. And hand in hand with the puffins? went some dark warnings against other 
 possible translations, which would inevitably be spurious, infamous, and I know not what else. 
 The reason of this warning is now clear. Another tranlsation has appeared, done by Mr. J. S. 
 (Jhartres, and published by Vizetelly, which is much superior to its predecessor." The World. 
 
 " We are able to declare that this second translation, the work of Mr. Cbartres, and 
 published by Messrs. Vizetelly, is very much the better of the two." Saturday Revitw. 
 
 In crown &vo, with Etchings by MULLER, from designs by JEAXNIOT. Price 6s. 
 
 GERMINIE LACERTEUX. 
 
 [In April. 
 
 By EDMOND AND JULES DE GONCOUKT. 
 
 TWELFTH THOUSAND. 
 With 32 highly finished page Engravings, cloth gilt, price 3s. 6d. 
 
 SAPPHO : Parisian Manners. 
 
 BY ALPHOXSE DAUDET. 
 UNABRIDGED TRANSLATION FROM THE IOOTH FRENCH EDITION. 
 
 "The book may, without exaggeration, be described as a glowing picture of Parisian life, 
 with all its diversity of characters, with its Bohemian and half- world circles that are to be found 
 nowhere else ; with all its special immorality, in hhort, but also with the touch of poetry that 
 saves it from utter corruption, and with the keen artistic sense that preserves its votaries from 
 absolute degradation." Daily Teltgraph. . 
 
 *,* VIZETELLY <fc CO. 'S Edition of " SAPPHO" is the only complete one. 
 It contains every line of the original work and ffty pages more matter than any other. 
 
 Shortly. In crown 8ro. Price 3*. Gtf. Uniform with " A CBCEL ENIGMA. 
 
 A CRUEL ENIGMA. A LOVE CRIME. 
 
 BY PAUL BOURGET. BY PAUL BOURGET. 
 
 Translated without abridgment from Translated with abridgment from the 
 the 18th French Eiition. 17 th French Edition.
 
 4 VIZETELLY & CO.'S NEW BOOKS &> NEW EDITIONS. 
 
 Specimen of the Engravings in DAUDET'S "SAPPHO." 
 
 "Atone in the little garden of the restaurant they were kissing each other and eating their 
 fish. All at once, from a rustic arbour built among the branches of the plane-tree at whose foot 
 their table was set out, A loud and bantering voice was heard : ' I say, there, when you've done 
 
 billing and cooing ,' and the leonine face and ruddy beard of Caoudal the sculptor appeared 
 
 through an opening iu the woodwork of the hut."
 
 VIZETELLY 6- CO.'S NEW BOOKS 6- NEW EDITIONS. 5 
 
 NEW ONE-VOLUME NOVELS. 
 
 A NOVEL OF JEWISH LIFE. 
 In crown 8vo, price 7s. 6d. 
 
 DR. PHILLIPS: A Maida Vale Idyll. 
 
 BY FRANK DANBY. 
 
 In crown 8vo, price 7s. 6d. 
 
 THE MEADOWSWEET COMEDY. 
 
 BY T. A. PINKERTON. [Ready in, Ajn-H. 
 
 In crown 8vo, price 3s. 6d. 
 
 MY BROTHER YVES. 
 
 BY PIERRE LOTI. 
 
 Translated from the 17th French Edition. [Ready in April. 
 
 Third Edition, in crown 8ro, price 3*. Qd. 
 
 DISENCHANTMENT. 
 
 BY F. MABEL ROBINSON. 
 
 AUTHOR OF "MR. BUTLER'S WARD." 
 
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 'Some of the scenes are given with remarkably impressive power. . . . The book is altogether 
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 Fifth Edition, in crown 8vo, with Frontispiece, price 6s. 
 
 A DRAMA IN MUSLIN. 
 
 BY GEORGE MOORE. 
 AUTHOR OF "A MUMMER'S WIFE," "A MODERN LOVER," &c. 
 
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 of disease and vice." fall Mill' Gazette. 
 
 In crown 8ro, price 5s. 
 
 ICARUS. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF "A JAUNT IN A JUXK." 
 
 "A clever book with an originil and ingenious idea. . . . Well fitted to amuse the leisure of 
 men und women of the world " Morning 1'vst. 
 
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 In crown 8vo, price 5s. 
 
 IN THE CHANGE OF YEARS. 
 
 BY FELISE LOVELACE. 
 
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 before her." Actukmy.
 
 6 VIZETELLY & CO.'S NEW BOOKS & NEW EDITIONS. 
 
 THE NOVELS OF FEDOR DOSTOIEFFSKY. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL RUSSIAN. 
 Third Edition. In, crown 8vo, 450 pages, price Gi. 
 
 CRIME AND PUNISHMENT. 
 
 A RUSSIAN REALISTIC NOVEL. 
 BY FEDOR DOSTOIEFFSKY. 
 
 .;-. OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 
 
 The Athenseum. 
 
 " Outside Russia the name of Felor Dostoieffsky was till lately almost unknown. Yet Dostoieffsky 
 In one of the most remarkable of modern writers, and his book, ' CRIME AND PUNISHMENT," is one 
 of the most moving of modern novels. It is the story of a murder and of the punishment which 
 dogs the murderer ; and its effect is unique in fiction. It is realism, but such realism as M. Zola 
 and his followers do not dream of. The reader knows the personages strange, grotesque, terrible 
 personages they are more intimately than if he had been years with them in the flesh. He is con- 
 strained to live their lives, to suffer their tortures, to scheme and resist with them, exult with 
 them, weep and laugh and despair with them ; he breathes the very breath of their nostrils, and with 
 the madness that comes upon them he is afflicted even as they. This sounds extravagant praise, no 
 doubt ; but only to those who have not read the volume. To those who have, we are sure that it 
 will appear rather under the mark than otherwise." 
 
 Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 " The figures in the grand, gloomy picture are a handful of men and women taken haphazard from 
 the crowd of the Russian capital. They are nearly all poor. The central figure in the novel is one 
 of those impecunious 'students," the outcomes of whose turbulent brains have often been a curse 
 
 where they were intended to be a blessing to their country. Sonia is a figure of tragic pathos 
 
 A strange fascination attracts RaskolnikofT to seek her out in her own lodgings, a bare little room in 
 an obscure street of St. Petersburg ; and there, in the haunt of impurity and sin, the harlot and the 
 assassin meet together to read the story of Lazarus and Dives. In that same den Rodia confesses 
 his crime, and, in anguish almost too deep for words, the outcast girl implores the criminal, for 
 God's sake, to make atonement." 
 
 The Spectator. 
 
 " In our opinion Dostoieffsky's finest work is ' CRIME AND PUNISHMENT.' Though never Zolaesqr.e, 
 Dostoieffsky is intensely realistic, calls a spade a spade with the most uncompromising frankness. 
 He describes sin in its most hideous shapes ; yet he is full of tenderness and loving-kindness for its 
 victims, and shows us that even the most alaudoned are not entirely bad, and that for all there is 
 hope hope of redemption and regeneration. Dostoieffsky sounded the lowest depths of human 
 nature, and wrote with the power of a master. None but a Russian and a genius could draw such a 
 character as Rodia Raskolnikoff, who has been aptly named the ' Hamlet of the Madhouse.'" 
 
 The World. 
 
 " The publisher has done good work in publishing ' CRIME AND PUNISHMENT,' a translation of Dostoi- 
 effsky's much-praised novel a little over-praised, perhaps, but a strong thing, beyond all question." 
 
 Westminster Review. 
 " 'CRIME AND PUNISHMENT' is powerful, and not without a certain weird fascination." 
 
 Second Edition, in crown Svo, with Portrait and Memoir. price 5*. 
 INJURY AND INSULT. By FEDOR DOSTOIEFFSKY. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL RUSSIAN BY F. WHISHAW. 
 
 " That ' Injury* and Insult ' i a powerful novel few will deny. Vania is a marvellous character. 
 Once read, the book can never be forgotten." St. Stephen's Review. 
 
 " A masterpiece of fiction. The author has treated with consummate tact the difficult character 
 of Natasha ' the incarnation and the slave of passion.' She lives and breathes in these vivid pages, 
 and the reader is drawn into the vortex of her anguish, and rejoices when she breaks free from her 
 chain." Morning Post.
 
 VIZETELLY fr CO.'S NEW BOOKS &- 
 
 In crown. Svo, pi-ice 5s. 
 
 THE FRIEND OF THE FAMILY, & THE GAMBLER. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THB ORIGINAL RUSSIAN BY F. WHISHAW. 
 " There are three Russian novelists who, though, with oneexception, little known out of their ow* 
 
 To h followed by 
 
 THE IDIOT THE BROTHERS KARAMASOFF. 
 
 UNCLE'S DREAM, & THE PERMANENT HUSBAND. 
 
 . THE NOVELS^FCOUNT LYOF TOLSTOI, 
 
 COUNT TOLSTOI'S MASTERPIECE. 
 Second Edition. In One Volume, Svo, 780 pages, 7s. 6d. 
 
 ANNA KARENINA : A Russian Realistic Novel. By 
 
 COUNT LYOF TOLSTOI. 
 
 " To say that the book is fascinating would be but poor praise. It is a drama of life, of which 
 every jnige is palpitating with intense and real life, and its grand lesson, 'Vengeance is Mine, I will 
 repay,' is ever present." Pull Mali Gazette. 
 
 " It has not oniv tlw very hue of life, but its movement, its advances, its strange pauses, its 
 seem, V reversions^, former conditions', and its perpetual change its apparent ^j^,** 
 essential solidarity. It is a world, and you live in.it while you read, and long afte. wards. - 
 Harper's MontMy. 
 
 COUNT TOLSTOI'S CHEAT REALISTIC NOVEL. 
 Second Edition. In Three Vols. , 5s. each. 
 
 WAR AND PEACE. By COUNT LYOF TOLSTOI. 
 
 1. BEFORE TILSIT. 2. THE INVASION. 3. THE FRENCH AT MOSCOW. 
 
 " Incomparably Count Tolstoi's greatest work is 'War and Peace.'"->Wnfoi/ Review. 
 
 " Count Tolstoi's magnificent iwve,]."Athenasum. 
 
 " Count Tolstoi's admirable work may be warmly recommended to novel readers. His Pictures 
 of Imperial society-the i*ople who move round the Czar-are as interesting and as vivid as his battle 
 scenes." St. James's Gazette. 
 
 " The interest of the book is not concentrated in a hero and a heroine. The other 'personages i are 
 studied with equal minute elaboration . . . and pass before us in scenes upon which the author 
 has la is^ed mil s and knowledge. He describes society as it appears to a calm, severe critic. He 
 Understands a3 respe, ts goodness, and sets before us all that is lovable in Russian domestic life." 
 Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 With Frontiipiece. In One Volume, 3s. 6rf. 
 
 A HERO OF OUR TIME. By M. U. LKRMONTOFF. 
 
 " Lermontoff's genius was as wild and erratic as his stormy life and tragic end. But it had the 
 ue ring and his name is enrolled among the literary immortals ot his country 'A Hero ol Onl- 
 ine" s" utterly unconventional, possesses a weird interest all its own, and is in every way a 
 
 true 
 
 Time' is utterly 
 
 remarkable romance." Spectator, 
 
 During May in crown Svo, with a Portrait and. Memoir of Count Tolstoi, price 5*. 
 
 CHILDHOOD, BOYHOOD, AND YOUTH.
 
 THE MERMAID SERIES. 
 
 " I lie and dream of your full MERMAID wine." 
 
 Master Francis Beaumont to Ben Jonson. 
 
 Now Publishing, 
 
 In Half-Crown monthly vols., post 8vo. Each volume 
 containing from 400 to 500 pages, bound in cloth with cut or uncut edges. 
 
 AN UNEXPURGATED EDITION OF 
 
 : THE BEST PLAYS 
 
 OF 
 
 THE OLD DRAMATISTS, 
 
 UNDER THE GENERAL EDITORSHIP OF HAVELOCK ELLIS. 
 
 / |jj) LTHOUGH a strong and increasing interest is felt to-day in the great 
 //^f)!l) Elizabethan dramatists who are grouped around Shakespeare, no satisfac- 
 tory attempt has hitherto been made to bring their works before the 
 public in a really popular manner. With the exception of such monu- 
 mental and for most readers inaccessible editions as those of Dyce and 
 Bullen, they have either been neglected or brought out in a mutilated and 
 inadequate form. Some of the most delightful of them, such as Middleton 
 and Thomas Heywood, and even Beaumont and Fletcher are closed to all, save 
 the few, and none of them are obtainable in satisfactory editions at moderate prices. 
 In the MERMAID SERIES it is proposed to issue the best plays of the Elizabethan 
 and later Dramatists, those plays which, with Shakespeare's, constitute the chief 
 contribution of the English spirit to the literature of the world. The Editors who have 
 given their assistance to the undertaking include men of literary eminence, who have 
 already distinguished themselves in this field, as well as younger writers of ability. The 
 first volume will contain a general introduction by Mr. J. A. Symonds, dealing with the 
 Elizabethan Drama generally, as the chief expression of English national life at one of 
 its points of greatest power and expansion. 

 
 VIZETELLY &- CO.'S NEW BOOKS Sf NEW EDITIONS. 9 
 
 Each volume will contain on an average five complete Plays, prefaced by an Intro- 
 ductory Notice of the Author. Great care will be taken to ensure, by consultation amon: 
 the Editors, that the Plays selected are in every case the but and most representative-am 
 not the most conventional, or- those which have lived on a merely accidental and traditional 
 reputation. A feature will be made of plays by little known writers, which although oft< 
 so admirable are now almost inaccessible. The names of the Editors will be sufficient 
 guarantee for the quality of the selection. In every instance the utmost pains will be taken 
 to secure the best text, the spelling will be modernised, and brief but adequate 
 will be supplied. 
 
 In no case will the Plays undergo any process of expurgation. It is believed that 
 although thay may sometimes run counter to what is called modern taste, the free anc 
 splendid energy of Elizabethan art, with its extreme realism and its extreme idealism- 
 embodying, as it does, the best traditions of the English Drama-will not suffer from the 
 frankest representation. 
 
 Carefully etched Portraits of those Dramatists of whom authentic portraits exist 
 will be given as frontispieces to the various volumes, and every pains will be taken tc 
 ensure typographical accuracy and excellence, and to produce the series in a satisfactory 
 manner in every respect. 
 
 Now ready 
 
 MARLOWE. Edited by HAVELOCK ELLIS. With a General 
 Introduction by J. A. SYMONDS. 
 
 To be followed by 
 
 MASSINGER. Edited by ARTHUR SYMONS. 
 MIDDLETON. With an Introduction by A. C. SWINBURNE. 
 BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER (2 vols.). Edited by J. St. 
 
 LOE STRACHEY. 
 
 DEKKER. Edited by ERNEST RHYS. 
 WEBSTER AND CYRIL TOURNEUR. Edited by J. A. 
 
 SYMONDS. 
 
 SHIRLEY. Edited by EDMUND GOSSE. 
 ARDEN OF FEVERSHAM and other Plays attributed to 
 
 Shakespeare. Edited by ARTHUR SYMONS. 
 OTWAY. Edited by the Hon. RODEN NOEL. 
 FORD. Edited by HAVELOCK ELLIS. 
 THOMAS HEYWOOD. Edited by J. A. SYMONDS. 
 Also by CONGREVE, BEN JONSON (2 vols.), CHAPMAN, 
 
 MARSTON, WILLIAM ROWLEY AND FIELD, 
 
 DRYDEN, WYCHERLEY, LEE, &c.
 
 io VIZETELLY & CO.'S NEW BOOKS 6- NEW EDITIONS. 
 
 NEW STORY BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE CHEVELEY NOVELS." 
 In Crown 8ro, attractively bound, price 3s. 6d. 
 
 HIS CHILD FRIEND. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF "A MODERN MINISTER," "SAUL WEIR," &o. 
 
 " Is told tenderly and with graphic skill. AH the characters are well and truthfully drawn.' 
 Academy. 
 
 A STORY OF THE STAGE. 
 
 In Crown 8vo, with eight tinted page engravings, price 2s. Qd, 
 
 SAVED BY A SMILE. 
 
 BY JAMES SIREE. 
 
 Second Edition. In crown Sro, with, page engravings, price 2s. Qd. 
 
 MY FIRST CRIME. 
 
 BY G. MACE, FORMER " CHEF DE LA SURETE " OF THE PARIS POLICR. 
 
 "An account by a real Lecoq of a real crime is a novelty among the mass of criminal 
 novels with which the world has been favoured since the death of the great originator Gaboriau. 
 It is to M. Mace", who has had to deal with real ji-ges d' instruction, real ageiits de la suret^, and real 
 murderers, that we are indebted for this really interesting addition to a species of literature 
 which has of late begun to pall." Saturday Review. 
 
 A BOOK FOR THE PRESENT CRISIS. 
 
 Second Edition. In crown Svo, paper cover, price Is. , or cloth, Is. 6d. 
 
 IRISH HISTORY FOR ENGLISH READERS. 
 
 BY WILLIAM STEPHENSON GREGG. 
 
 " The history is one that every Englishman ought to read. As an outline to be filled up by 
 w der reading it is an admirable little book." Literary World. 
 
 Shortly will be published in Shilling Volumes, with picture covers, 
 
 CAPITAL STORIES. 
 
 THE EARLIEB VOLUMES WILL INCLUDE : 
 
 THE CHAPLAIN'S SECRET. BY LEON DE TINSEAU. 
 
 AVATAR. BY THEOPHILE GAUTIER. 
 
 (The above work evidently suggested " Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde") 
 
 COLONEL QUAGG'S CONVERSION; and Other Stories. 
 
 BY GEORGE AUGUSTUS SALA. 
 
 THE MONKEYS' REVENGE. BY LEON GOZLAN. 
 
 THE MARCHIONESS'S TEAM. BY LEON DE TINSEAU.
 
 VIZETELLY <* CO.'S NEW BOOKS fr NEW EDITIONS. 11 
 MR. E. C. GRENVILLE-MURRAY'S WORKS. 
 
 Third and Clwpcr Etlition, in post 800, 434 pp., with numerous Page and other 
 Engravings, handsomely bound, price 5s. 
 
 IMPRISONED IN A SPANISH CONVENT: 
 
 AX ENGLISH GIRL'S EXPERIENCES. 
 
 "Intensely fascinating. The txpoit is a remarkable one, and as readable as remarkable." 
 Societa. 
 
 " Excellent specimens of their author in his best and brightest mrod.'' Athfrurum. 
 
 " Highly arainatic." Scott./tan. " StrUiugly interesting." literary World. 
 
 " Instead of the meek coointf dove with naked feet and a dusty face who had talked of dying 
 for me, I had now a bright-eyed rosy-checked companion who had cambric pocket-handkerchiefs 
 with violet scent on them and smoked cigarettes on the sly." Page 75. 
 
 New and Cheaper Edition, Two Vols. large post 8vo, attractively bound, price 15s. 
 
 UNDER THE LENS: SOCIAL PHOTOGRAPHS. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH ABOUT 300 ENGRAVINGS BY WELL-KNOWN ARTISTS. 
 CONTENTS: JIMS ADVENTURERS AND ADVENTURESSES - HONOUR iBLE 
 GENTLEMEN (M.P.s)-PUBLIC SCHOOLBOYS AND UNDERGRADUATES- SPENDTHRIFTS 
 SOME WOMEN I HAVE KNOWN ROUGUS OF HIGH AND LOW DEGREE. 
 
 " Brilliant, highly-coloured sketches. . . . containing beyond doubt some of the best writing 
 that has come from Mr. Grenville-Murray's pen." St. Janu,'* Gazette. 
 " Limned audaciously, unsparingly, and with much ability." World. 
 " Distinguished by their pitiless fidelity to nature. "Society.
 
 AT THE ETON AND HARROW CKICKET MATCH : frcm " UNDER THE LENS."
 
 VIZETELLY 6- CO.'S NEW BOOKS & NEW EDITIONS. 13 
 MR. E. C. GRENVILLE-MURRAY'S WORKS-conhniwd. 
 
 Seventh Edition, in post Svo, handsomely bound, price 7s. 6d. 
 
 SIDE-LIGHTS ON ENGLISH SOCIETY 
 
 from &tfe, Social an* Satirical. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH NEARLY 300 CHARACTERISTIC ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 CONTENTS "-FLIRTS. - ON HER BRITANNIC MAJESTY'S SERVICE. - SEMI- 
 PETACHED WIVES. -NOBLE LORDS.-YOUNQ WIDOWS.-OUR SILVERED YOUTH, 
 OR NOBLE OLD BOYS. 
 
 " This is a startling book. The volume is expensively and elaborately got up ; the writing is 
 bitter, unsparing, and extremely clever." Vanity Fair. 
 
 "Mr Grenville-Murray sparkles very steadily throughout the present volume and puts to 
 excellent use his incomparableknowledge of life and manners, of men and cities, of appearances 
 and acts Of his several descants upon English types, I shall only remark that they are 
 brilliantly and dashingly written, curious as to their matter, and admirably readable. -7ml*. 
 
 "No one can question the brilliancy of the sketches nor affirm that ' Side-Lighte ' is aught but 
 a fascinating book. ...... The book is destined to make a great noise in the world. - Whitehall 
 
 Review. _ 
 
 Third Edition, with Frontispiece and Vignette, price 2s. 6d. 
 
 HIGH LIFE IN FRANCE UNDER THE 
 REPUBLIC : 
 
 SOCIAL AND SATIRICAL SKETCHES IX PARIS AND THE PROVINCES. 
 
 " Take this book as it stands, with the limitations imposed upon its author by circumstances, 
 and it wiU be found very enjoyable ..... The volume is studded with shrewd observation on 
 French life at the present d*y." Sptctator. 
 
 " A very clever and entertaining series of social and satirical sketches, almost French In their 
 point and vivacity." Contemporary Review. 
 
 - A most amusing book, and no less instructive if read with allowances and understanding. 
 
 %ull of the caustic humour and graphic character-painting so characteristic of Mr. QreuviUe- 
 Mxirray'8 work, and dealing trenchantly yet lightly with almost every conceivable phase of 
 social, political, official, journalistic and theatrical life. Society.
 
 14 V1ZETELLY &* CO.'S NEW BOOKS 5- NEW EDITIONS. 
 
 MR. E. C. GRENVILLE-MURRAY'S WORKS-conlinued. 
 
 Second Edition, in large 8vo, tastefully bound, with gilt edges, price 10*. 6d. 
 FORMING A HANDSOME VOLUME FOR A PRESENT. 
 
 PEOPLE I HAVE MET. 
 
 Illustrated with 54 tinted J'nt/e Engraving*, from Design* by FKED. BAKN 
 
 THE RICH WIDOW (reduced from the original engraving). 
 
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 cynical at times, but by no means excluding a due appreciation of the softer virtues of women 
 and the sterner excellence* of men. The talent of the artist (Mr. Barnard) is akin to that of the 
 author, and the result of the combination is a book that, once taken up, can hardly be laid down 
 until the last page is perused." Spectator. 
 
 " All of Mr. Greunlle-Murray's portraits are clever and life-like, and some of them are not 
 unworthy of a model who was more before the author's eyes than Addison namely, Thackeray." 
 Truth. 
 
 " Mr. Grenville-Murray's sketches are genuine studies, and are the best things of the kind 
 that have been published since 'Sketches by Boz,' to which they are superior in the sense in 
 which artistically executed character portraits are superior to caricatures." St. James's Gauttf. 
 
 " No book of its class can be pointed out so admirably calculated to show another generation 
 the foibles and peculiarities of the men and women of our times." Morning Post. 
 
 A.n Edition of "PEOPLE I HAVE MET" is published in small 8vo, 
 with Frontispiece and other pagre Engravingrs, price 2s. 6d. 
 
 In 2>ost Svo, 150 engravings, cloth gilt, price 5s. 
 
 JILTS AND OTHER SOCIAL PHOTOGRAPHS. 
 
 Uniform with the above. 
 
 SPENDTHRIFTS AND OTHER SOCIAL PHOTOGRAPHS.
 
 VIZETELLY 6- CO.'S NEW BOOKS fr NEW EDITIONS. 
 MR. GEORGE AUGUSTUS SALA'S WORKS. 
 
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 In One Volume, demy 8co, 560 pages, price 12s., the FIFTH EDITION oj 
 
 AMERICA REVISITED, 
 
 FROM THE BAY OF NEW YORK TO THE GULF OF MEXICO, & FROM LAKE MICHIGAN 
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 book more evenly geniM fld gy, and with a fresher subject to liandle." World. 
 
 " Mr. Sala's good stories ho thick as plums in a pudding throughout this handsome work." 
 Poll MM GtuetU.
 
 16 VIZETELLY 6- CO.'S NEW BOOKS &- NEW EDITIONS. 
 
 MR. G. A. S ALA'S WORKS continued. 
 
 In demy 8vo, handsomely printed on hand-made paper, with the Illustrations on 
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 UNDER THE SUN: 
 
 ESSAYS MAINLY WRITTEN IN HOT COUNTRIES. 
 
 A New Edition, containing several Additional Essays, with an Etched Portrait 
 of the Author by BOCOUKT, and 12 full-page Engravings. 
 
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 Uniform with the above, with Frontispiece and other Page Engravings. 
 
 DUTCH PICTURES, and PICTURES DONE 
 WITH A QUILL. 
 
 The Graphic remarks : " We have received a sumptuous new edition of Mr. G. A. Sala's well- 
 known ' Dutch Pictures.' It is printed on rough paper, and is enriched with many admirable 
 illustrations." 
 
 " Mr. Sala's best work has in it something of Montaigne, a great deal of Charles Lamb made 
 deeper and broader and not a little of Lamb's model, the accomplished and quaint Sir Thomas 
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 UNDER THE SUN, and DUTCH PICTURES AND PICTURES DONE 
 WITH A QUILL are also published in crown Svo, price 2s. 6d. each. 
 
 Third and Cheaper Edition, in demy 8vo, cloth gilt, price 6s. 
 
 A JOURNEY DUE SOUTH; 
 
 TRAVELS IN SEARCH OP SUNSHINE, 
 
 INCLUDING 
 
 MARSEILLES, NICE, BASTIA, AJACCIO, GENOA, PISA, BOLOGNA, 
 VENICE, ROME, NAPLES, POMPEII, &c. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH 16 FULL-PAGE ENGRAVINGS BY VARIOUS ARTISTS. 
 
 " In ' A Journey due South' Mr. Sala is in his brightest and cheeriest mood, ready with quip 
 and jest and anecdote, brimful of allusion ever happy and pat." Saturday Review. 
 
 Eighth Edition, in crown Svo, 558 pages, attractively bound, price '2s. Cr/., 
 or gilt at the side and with gilt edges, 3*. 
 
 PARIS HERSELF AGAIN. 
 
 BY GEORGE AUGUSTUS SALA. 
 WITH 350 CHARACTERISTIC ILLUSTRATIONS BY FRENCH ARTISTS. 
 
 4 On subjects like those in his present work, Mr. Sala is at his best." The Time*. 
 
 " This book is one of the most readable that has appeared for many a day. Few Englishmen 
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 "'Paris Herself Again' is infinitely more amusing than most novels. There is no style so 
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 BERTHA'S SECRET. 
 
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 for this would spoil the reader's pleasure in a novel which depends for all its interest ou 
 the skilful weaving and unweaving of mysteries." Times. 
 
 WHO DIED LAST? OR THE RIGHTFUL HEIR. 
 
 "Travellers at this season of the year will find the time occupied by a long journey 
 pass away as rapidly as they can desire with one of Du Boisgobey's absorbing volumes in 
 their hand." London Figaro. 
 
 THE CRIME OF THE OPERA HOUSE. Two Vols. 
 
 " We are led breathless from the first page to the last, and close the book with a 
 thorough admiration for the vigorous roruaneist who has the courage to fulfil the true 
 function of the story-teller, by making reflection subordinate to action." Aberdeen 
 Journal. 
 
 Lately published Volumes. 
 
 THE RED BAND. Two Vols. -THE GOLDEN TRESS. 
 
 FERNANDE'S CHOICE THE NAMELESS MAN. 
 
 THE, PHANTOM LEG.-THE ANGEL OF THE CHIMES. 
 
 THIEVING FINGERS.-THE CONVICT COLONEL. 
 
 HIS GREAT REVENGE. 2 Vols.-A RAILWAY TRAGEDY. 
 
 THE MATAPAN AFFAIR. -A FIGHT FOR A FORTUNE. 
 
 THE GOLDEN PIG ; OK, THE IDOL OP MODERN PARIS. 2 Vols. 
 
 PRETTY BABIOLE.-THE CORAL PIN. TWO Vols. 
 
 THE THUMB STROKE. -THE JAILER'S PRETTY WIFE..
 
 VIZETELLY 6* CO.'S NEW BOOKS S- NEW EDITIONS. 31 
 
 /K double volumes, bound in scarlet cloth, price 2s. 6rf. eacA. 
 NEW EDITIONS OF THE 
 
 GABORIAU AND DU BOISGOBEY 
 SENSATIONAL NOVELS. 
 
 1. THE MYSTERY OF ORCIVAL, AND THE GILDED CLIQUE 
 2. THIS LEROUGE CASE, AND OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEYS 
 3. LECOGi, THE DETECTIVE. 4. THE SLAVES OF PARIS 
 
 5. IN PERIL OF HIS LIFE, AND INTRIGUES OF A POISONER 
 G.-DOSSIER NO. 113, AND THE LITTLE OLD MAN OF BA- 
 
 TIGNOLLES. 7.-THE COUNT'S MILLIONS. 
 
 8. THE OLD AGE OF LECOQ, THE DETECTIVE. 
 9.-THE CATASTROPHE. 10. THE DAY OF RECKONING 
 
 11. THE SEVERED HAND, AND IN THE SERPENTS' COILS 
 12. BERTHA'S SECRET, AND WHO DIED LAST P 
 13.-THE CRIME OF THE OPERA HOUSE. 17. ^HE CORAL PIN 
 14.-THE MATAPAN AFFAIR, AND A FIGHT FOR A FORTUNE* 
 15.-THE GOLDEN PIG. 18.-HIS GREAT REVENGE. 
 
 16. THE THUMB STROKE, AND PRETTY BABIOLE. 
 19. JAILER'S PRETTY WIFE, AND ANGEL OF THE CHIMES 
 20.-A RAILWAY TRAGEDY, AND THE CONVICT COLONEL 
 21.-THE PHANTOM LEG, AND THIEVING FINGERS. 
 
 In small pott 8vo, ornamental covers, Is. each ; in cloth, Is. 6d. 
 
 TRANSLATIONS OF THE BEST EXAMPLES OF RECENT FRENCH 
 FICTION OF AN UN OBJECTIONABLE CHARACTER. 
 
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 tiiitl read Men. Ihe interest lluy create in happily n-jt of the vicious sort at all." 
 
 _ SHEFFIELD INDEPENDENT. 
 
 FROMONT THE YOUNGER & RISLER THE ELDER By 
 
 A. DAUDET. 
 
 " The series starts well with M. Alphonse Daudet's masterpiece." Athencettn 
 ' A terrible story, powerful after a sledge-hammer fashiou in some parts 'and won- 
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 may be inferred from the fact that this English version is said to be ' translated from the 
 fiftieth French edition.' "Illustrated London News. 
 
 SAMUEL BROHL AND PARTNER. By V. CHERBULIEZ. 
 
 THE DRAMA OF THE RUE DE LA PAIX. By A. BELOT. 
 
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 which a decidedly interesting and thrilling narrative is told with great force *i 
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 MAUGARS JUNIOR. By A. THEUWET. 
 
 One of the most charming novelettes we have read foralong time. "-Literary World.
 
 32 VIZETELLY &- CO.'S NEW BOOKS &* NEW EDITIONS. 
 
 WAYWARD DOSIA, & THE GENEROUS DIPLOMATIST. 
 
 By HENRY GREVILLE. 
 
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 A NEW LEASE OF LIFE, & SAVING A DAUGHTER'S 
 
 DOWRY. By E. ABOUT. 
 
 " ' A New Lease of Life ' is an absorbing story, the interest of which is kept up to the 
 very end." Dublin Evening Mail. 
 
 ""The story, as a flight nf brilliant and eccentric imagination, is unequalled in its 
 peculiar way. " The Graphic. , 
 
 COLOMBA, & CARMEN. By P. MERIMEE. 
 
 "The freshness and raciness of ' Colomba is quite cheering after the stereotyped three- 
 volume novels with which our circulating libraries are crammed." Halifax Times. 
 
 "'Carmen' will be welcomed by the lovers of the sprightly and tuneful opera the 
 heroine of which Minnie Hauk made so popular. It is a bright and vivacious story." Life. 
 
 A WOMAN'S DIARY, & THE LITTLE COUNTESS. By 
 
 0. FEUILLET. 
 
 " Is wrought out with masterly skill and affords reading, which although of a slightly 
 sensational kind, cannot be said to be hurtful either mentally or morally." Dumbarton 
 herald. 
 
 BLUE-EYED META HOLDENIS, & A STROKE OF DIPLO- 
 
 MACY. By Y. CHERBTTLIEZ. 
 
 " ' Blue-eyed Meta Holdenis ' is a delightful tale." Civil Service Gazette. 
 "'A Stroke of Diplomacy' is a bright vivacious story pleasantly told." Hampshire 
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 THE GODSON OF A MARQUIS. By A. THEURIET. 
 
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 are painted with the hand of a master. From the beginning to the close the interest 
 of the story neVer flags." Life. 
 
 THE TOWER OF PERCEMONT & MARIANNE. ByGEORo* 
 
 SAND. 
 
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 of it." Illustrated London, News. 
 
 THE LOW-BORN LOVER'S REVENGE. By V. CHERBULIBZ. 
 
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 trated London A'etfs. 
 
 THE NOTARY'S NOSE, AND OTHER AMUSING STORIES. 
 
 By E. ABOUT. 
 
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 DOCTOR CLAUDE ; OR, LOVE RENDERED DESPERATE. 
 
 By H. MALOT. Two vols. 
 
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 English romance as these books." Dublin Evening Jtfaii. 
 
 THE THREE RED KNIGHTS; OR, THE BROTHERS' 
 
 VENGEANCE. By P. FEVAL. 
 
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 writers." Sheffield Independent. 
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