Fromont and Risler -- Volume 1

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same affectionate tone, warms his heart. The children accost him without fear, the long-bearded designers, half-workmen, half-artists, shake hands with him as they pass, and address him familiarly as "thou." Perhaps there is a little too much familiarity in all this, for the worthy man has not yet begun to realize the prestige and authority of his new station; and

at the factory, from that time, long, long ago, when they breakfasted together at the little creamery on the corner,

n business all the morning; and the partners, as they walk toward the pretty little house in

wed me some new patterns, pretty ones too, I assure yo

of a wonderful invention, an improved printing-press, something that-but we shall see. Still talking, they enter the garden, which is as car

speak, for his gait is heavy, his mind works slowly, and words have much difficulty in finding their way to his lips. Oh, i

to breakfast, and waxes impatient over the good m

nt, daughter of Claire and Georges, who is taking a sun-bath, blooming like a flower amid h

isler? Why, everybody says

little

miniature model of a human being, who stares at them out of her little eyes, blinking with the noise and gla

trying to make it laugh and crow with baby-talk and gestures worthy of a grandfather. How old he looks, poor man! His tall body, which

floor with her foot and m

idi

ow he can go away, how he can interrupt these explosions of laughter and little bird-like cries. He succeeds at last, however, in giving the child bac

ng-dish, already filled. Her martyr-like at

ou are. It's

is seat, a li

have, my love? T

w not to speak to me in tha

t when we

t? No one in this place treats me with any respect. Pere Achille hardly touches his ha

you know perfectly well

he always says it

that I don't choose to be unde

Sid

f. Every one is forbidden to touch her. And I must make up my mind to be a no

ome, lit

Madame "Chorche." But he has no tact. This is the worst possible me

h a lofty air, and criticises what I do. I did wrong to have a maid. Of course! Wasn't I in the habit of waiting on myself? She never loses a chance to wound me. When I call on her on Wednesdays, you should hear the tone in which she asks me, before everybody, how 'dear Madame Chebe' is. Oh! yes. I'm a Chebe and she's a Fromont. One's as good

sler, unable to f

ll night like a little cat. It keeps me awake. And afterward, through the day, I have

until he sees that she is beginning to calm down a little

y! Are we going out soon

ss to avoid the more familiar fo

ake calls," Sidonie repl

expect to receive th

d's astounded, bewildered

ay. Madame Fromont has

anc

with some little uneasiness. "So that's why I saw so many

n to the garden this m

but I'm sure you thi

in the garden belonged

mon

ut you-it would have

santhemums and two or three bits of green. Besides, I didn't make any

Ah! that's ver

ed upon him

would be the last straw. When I go every Wednesday to be bored

to enter and to leave a room, how to bow, how to place flowers in a jardiniere and cigars in a case, to say nothing of the engravings, the procession of graceful, faultlessly attired men and women, and the

me Risler Aine by absenting herself on her first Frid

s again and again. "Good heavens! h

he must renounce these cherished habits, must leave the pipe in its case because of the smoke, and, as soon as he has swallowed the l

y see Risler Aine come in, on a week-day

pray?" cries Sigismond, the

ithout a feeling

wife's rec

Achille, who takes care of the garden, is not very well pleased to

n off his fine frock-coat, which embarrasses him, and has turned up his clean shirt-sleeves; but the idea that his

come?" he

nsieur,

ttle work- basket in the shape of a gamebag, with silk tassels, a bunch of violets in a glass vase, and green plants in the jardinieres. Everything is arranged exactly as in the Fromonts' apartments on the floor below; but the taste, that invisible line which separates the distinguished from the vulgar, is not yet refined. You would say i

n angry gesture. "No one will come. But I take it especially ill of

t he can do is to stay with her when everybody else abandons her, and so he remains there, at a loss what to say, rooted to the spot, like those people who dare not move during a storm for fear of attracting the lightning. Sidonie moves excitedly about, going in and out of the salon, changi

ncierge has no

ing, and the black smoke which the chimney emits beneath the lowering clouds. Sigismond's window is the first to show a light on the ground floor; the cashier trims his lamp him

, Sidonie has recognized one of the most fashionable frequenters of the Fromont salon, the wife of a wealthy dealer in bronzes. What an honor to receive a call from such an one! Quick, quick! the family takes

d hear what her neighbor s

fire." They overwhelm her with attentions and show great interest in her slightest word. Honest Risler's smiles are as warm as his thanks. Sidonie herself displays all her fascinations, overjoyed to exhibit herself in her glory to one who was her equal in the old days, and to reflect that the other, in the room below, must hear that she has had c

ed. In the adjoining room they hear the servant laying the

is pale

steps! No doubt Madame thinks we're not grand

rse, takes on the intonations of the faubourg, an accent of the com

cky enough to

Perhaps the

a fury, as if she wo

l, it's your fault that this has happened to me. You

the knick-knacks on the etageres, Risler, left alone, stands motionless in the centre of the salon, lookin

's recep

ITOR'S B

on of ind

ling conde

Joseph, four sh

sort of occupa

the disasters that

me mentally whe

ttering for an oppo

able to find out wh

n procuring two cak

se who disdain

enjoyment, such

an who does nothing

would take hereafte

ome, but the bride's

pay for all th