Denise was quite as well pleased that her aunt should not go with her; but she was overjoyed that she herself was allowed to go, and she ran off to engage seats for herself and Coco for the next day. The rest of that day she spent in preparing her dress. Coco jumped for joy when he learned that he was going in a stage to see his kind friend, and Mere Fourcy packed two pairs of chickens, two dozen eggs, some fruit and cake, in a basket, as a present for the young gentleman in Paris.

Denise was up before dawn. It was early in October; but it was a lovely day, and reminded the girl of that on which she first met Auguste. Her toilet was soon made; she wore a new dress and her daintiest cap--the one in which, on Sundays, she turned the heads of all the young men in the village, and drove the girls to despair. But would that pretty cap have the same power in Paris? Denise had no desire to make conquests; there was but one person whom she wished to please, although she said to herself a hundred times a day:

"No, no! I am not in love with him."

Coco was dressed very neatly. Mere Fourcy gave them the basket, saying:

"Give him my compliments, and tell him to think of me when he eats the chickens, and to tell me how he likes that cake!"

Denise and Coco ran, for fear of missing the stage; at last they were safely inside, the basket between Denise's legs, and they started for Paris.

It was not a long journey; but it seemed endless to Denise; whereas the child, delighted to be in the stage, wished that they might never arrive. However, they reached the stage office on Rue Saint-Martin in due course, and Denise, taking the basket on her arm, took Coco by the hand, and having inquired the way to Rue Saint-Georges, started in the direction of the Chaussee-d'Antin.

Denise's beauty and her peasant costume attracted more than one compliment on the way; but the girl quickened her pace without replying, although the basket was very heavy and Coco began to be fatigued by walking on the pavements.

When one is unfamiliar with a place, one is likely to walk farther than is necessary. Denise many times mistook one street for another; she disliked to inquire, because they to whom she applied seemed inclined to offer her their arms. She was warm and perspiring, and Coco was cross and kept saying:

"Where's my kind friend, I'd like to know?"

They had been walking more than an hour when they found themselves at last on Rue Saint-Georges.

"Here we are, Coco," said Denise, joyously; "here's Monsieur Auguste's house, and you'll soon have a chance to embrace your kind friend! He'll be glad to see you. Oh, yes! I'm sure he'll give us a warm welcome."

The child forgot his fatigue. They pa.s.sed under the porte cochere, and Denise looked about in embarra.s.sment. She could not control her emotion, and she halted with the child and her basket between two handsome stairways, uncertain which way to turn; while Coco began to cry at the top of his voice:

"My kind friend, we've brought you some cake and some fruit!"

"Vat's all this how-d'ye-do?" said Schtrack, opening his door and glaring at the young woman and the child, who were standing in the middle of the courtyard. "I say, my girl, haf you come here to sell geese?"

Denise blushed, and stammered as she looked at Schtrack:

"Which way shall I go up, monsieur?"

"You mustn't go up at all, sacretie! This is not ein boultry market. Go outside und yell mit te leedle broder."

Schtrack was about to come forth to turn Denise and the child into the street, when Bertrand came downstairs, and was thunderstruck to see the girl.

"What! is it you, my child?--and little Coco too?"

"Yes, Monsieur Bertrand, it's us. Oh! I'm so glad to see you! he was just going to turn us out of the house."

"What's that? you were going to turn this girl out, Schtrack?"

"Sacretie! why haf she not told me what she want? Te leedle poy, he bray like a tonkey in the courtyard: 'Kind freund! kind freund! see the cakes!'--Did I know his kind freund?"

"It's my fault, Monsieur Bertrand; I didn't think--I was so confused.

Can't we see Monsieur Auguste?"

"Yes, indeed," Bertrand replied with some embarra.s.sment. "Oh, yes! you shall see him. Come upstairs with me, Mamzelle Denise."

The girl and the child followed Bertrand, who admitted them with some precaution into Auguste's apartment and took them at once to the small salon, saying:

"Stay here and rest, and wait a little while."

"Has Monsieur Auguste gone out?"

"No, but he--he has company; he's busy just at this minute."

"Tell him we're here, Monsieur Bertrand, and I'll bet he'll come right away. We won't keep him long."

"Yes, I'll tell him that. But wait; I'll be back in a minute."

Bertrand left the salon, being careful to close the door behind him.

Denise examined the fine furniture and pictures with which the room was embellished, and Coco lay on a couch. But the moments pa.s.sed and n.o.body came. The girl's heart sank; she had secretly hoped that Auguste would be glad to see her, and the lack of haste which he displayed in coming to her, made her fear that she had flattered herself too much.

She dared not leave the room, or even open a door. Coco had fallen asleep; the girl seated herself in a corner, refrained from making the slightest noise, in order not to wake the child, and gazed ruefully at the basket containing the gifts she had brought to the fine city gentleman.

At last Bertrand returned with a dissatisfied air, and said in an undertone:

"You are tired of waiting, aren't you? Thunder and guns! I can understand that; but it ain't my fault, mamzelle, because my orders before everything! I don't know anything but my orders."

"Isn't Monsieur Auguste at home?"

"Oh, yes! he's at home, but he can't see you yet, because his orders--"

"But, Monsieur Bertrand, it isn't polite not to come and speak to people; with us, we don't leave our friends all alone like this."

"Oh! it's different in Paris, mamzelle. I know what my lieutenant promised to do to me if I disturbed him when he's--busy; and I can't disobey orders."

"Then we'll go away."

"Wait a little longer; perhaps it won't be very long."

At that moment they heard sounds in the reception-room, and Mademoiselle Virginie entered the salon.

"Here I am!" she cried; "I snapped my fingers at your orders, I did!

That old villain of a Schtrack didn't want to let me come up. 'Monsir isn't in,' he says. But I came on all the same.--I say! who's this little farmer's wench? She's not so bad-looking! Is it on her account that Monsieur Auguste closes his door to his friends?"

Denise stared at Virginie in amazement, while Bertrand motioned to the latter to be quiet, saying in an irritated tone:

"It seems to me, mademoiselle, that when a concierge says that you can't come up, you should respect his orders."

"Go to the deuce with your orders! He told me there wasn't anyone here, and he lied, you see. Bertrand, who on earth is this rustic beauty?"

"She's a young girl from the country."

"Pardi! I can see for myself that she don't live on Rue Vivienne. What a sly fox he is!--What is she here for? Is it her young one asleep on the couch? The devil! he's quite a big boy already!"

"This is a most respectable young woman, mademoiselle; she came to bid Monsieur Dalville good-day, and brought this child, that he thinks a great deal of. There isn't the slightest harm in that."