the man picks up the nosegay, and does not return it to the woman--he only kills a panther before her eyes.' Those are good manners in that country, I suppose; but what cannot be good manners anywhere is to treat a woman as I have been treated.And all thanks to you, madame!"
These complaints of Rose-Pompon, at once bitter and laughable, did not at all agree with what she had previously stated as to Djalma's passionate love for her; but Adrienne took care not to point out this contradiction, and said to her, mildly: "You must be mistaken, miss, when you suppose that I had anything to do with your troubles.But, in any case, I regret sincerely that you should have been ill-treated by any one."
"If you think I have been beaten, you are quite wrong," exclaimed Rose-
Pompon."Ah! well, I am sure! No, it is not that.But I am certain that, had it not been for you, Prince Charming would have got to love me a little.I am worthy of the trouble, after all--and then there are different sorts of love--I am not so very particular--not even so much as that," added Rose-Pompon, snapping her fingers.
"Ah!" she continued, "when Ninny Moulin came to fetch me, and brought me jewels and laces to persuade me to go with him, he was quite right in saying there was no harm in his offers."
"Ninny Moulin?" asked Mdlle.de Cardoville, becoming more and more interested; "who is this Ninny Moulin, miss?"
"A religious writer," answered Rose-Pompon, pouting; "the right-hand man of a lot of old sacristans, whose money he takes on pretense of writing about morality and religion.A fine morality it is!"
At these words--"a religious writer"--"sacristans" Adrienne instantly divined some new plot of Rodin or Father d'Aigrigny, of which she and Djalma were to have been the victims.She began vaguely to perceive the real state of the case, as she resumed: "But, miss, under what pretence could this man take you away with him?"
"He came to fetch me, and said I need not fear for my virtue, and was only to make myself look pretty.So I said to myself: 'Philemon's out of town, and it's very dull here all alone: This seems a droll affair; what can I risk by it?'--Alas! I didn't know what I risked," added Rose-
Pompon, with a sigh."Well! Ninny Moulin takes me away in a fine carriage.We stop in the Place du Palais-Royal.A sullen-looking man, with a yellow face, gets up in the room of Ninny Moulin, and takes me to the house of Prince Charming.When I saw him--la! he was so handsome, so very handsome, that I was quite dizzy-like; and he had such a kind, noble air, that I said to myself, 'Well! there will be some credit if I remain a good girl now!'--I did not know what a true word I was speaking.I have been good--oh! worse than good."
"What, miss! do you regret having been so virtuous?"
"Why, you see, I regret, at least, that I have not had the pleasure of refusing.But how can you refuse, when nothing is asked--when you are not even thought worth one little loving word?"
"But, miss, allow me to observe to you that the indifference of which you complain does not see to have prevented your making a long stay in the house in question."
"How should I know why the prince kept me there, or took me out riding with him, or to the play? Perhaps it is the fashion in his savage country to have a pretty girl by your side, and to pay no attention to her at all!"
"But why, then, did you remain, miss?"
"Why did I remain?" said Rose-Pompon, stamping her loot with vexation.
"I remained because, without knowing how it happened, I began to get very fond of Prince Charming; and what is queer enough, I, who am as gay as a lark, loved him because he was so sorrowful, which shows that it was a serious matter.At last, one day, I could hold out no longer.I said:
`Never mind; I don't care for the consequences.Philemon, I am sure, is having his fun in the country.' That set my mind at ease.So one morning, I dress myself in my best, all very pretty, look in my glass, and say: "Well, that will do--he can't stand that,!' and, going to his room, I tell him all that passes through my head; I laugh, I cry--at last I tell him that I adore him.What do you think he answers, in his mild voice, and as cold as a piece of marble? Why, `Poor child--poor child--
poor child!'" added Rose-Pompon, with indignation; "neither more nor less than if I had come to complain to him of the toothache.But the worst of it is that I am sure, if he were not in love elsewhere, he would be all fire and gunpowder.Only now he is so sad, so dejected!"
Then, pausing a moment, Rose-Pompon added: "No, I will not tell you that;
you would be too pleased." But, after another pause, she continued:
"Well, never mind; I will tell you, though"; and this singular girl looked at Mdlle.de Cardoville with a mixture of sympathy and deference.
"Why should I keep it from you? I began by riding the high horse, and saying that the prince wished to marry me; and I finished by confessing that he almost turned me out.Well, it's not my fault; when I try to fib, I am sure to get confused.So, madame, this is the plain truth:--
