madame bourcet sat in the snuff-colored drawing-room, nursing her rheumatism, when in walked fifi as demure as the cat after it has eaten the canary. she mentioned casually that she had bought a few things for her trousseau, and madame bourcet presumed that the sum total of expenditure was something like a hundred francs. still, with visions of the pink spangled gown which fifi wished to buy for her presentation to the holy father, madame bourcet thought it well to say, warningly:
“i hope your purchases were of a sober and substantial character, warranted to wear well, and in quiet colors.”
“wait, madame, until you see them,” was fifi’s diplomatic answer.
as soon as she could, she escaped to her own room, and, locking the door, she opened her precious trunk with the relics of her theatrical life in it, and began to handle them tenderly.
[pg 141]
“oh, you dear old wig, how happy i was when i wore you!” she said to herself, clapping the white wig over her own rich brown hair. “when i put you on i became a marquise at the court of louis le grand, and how fine it seemed! never mind, i shall be a marquise again, and get forty francs the week at least! and how nice it will be to be quarreling with julie campionet again, the wretch! and duvernet—i shall not forget to remind him of how i gave him my best white cotton petticoat for his toga—and sewed it with my own fingers, too! and i shall say to him, ‘recollect, monsieur, i am no longer fifi, but mademoiselle josephine chiaramonti, granddaughter of the cousin of a reigning sovereign, and i am the young lady who won the grand prize in the lottery, and spent it all; you never had a leading lady before who knew how to spend a hundred thousand francs.’ i think i can see duvernet now—and as i say it i shall toy with my paste brooch. i can’t buy any jewels, for that wouldn’t help me to get rid of louis bourcet, or to get cartouche; so i shall tell duvernet that nothing in the way of diamonds seemed worth while after those i had already.”
fifi fondled her paste brooch, which was kept in [pg 142]the same shrine as the white wig, and then she clasped to her breast cartouche’s javelin, made from a broomstick, and it seemed to her almost as if she were clasping cartouche. it put the notion into her head to write him a letter, so she hastily closed her trunk, and sat down to write.
“cartouche, i went out this morning, and spent ten thousand francs of that odious money i won through that abominable lottery ticket you gave me. i should think you would never cease reproaching yourself if you knew how miserable that lottery ticket has made me. i bought some of the most terrible gowns you ever saw, and a bed that cost five thousand francs, and which the empress couldn’t buy. i shall tell poor louis and madame bourcet that these gowns are for my trousseau—but, of course, i have not the slightest idea of marrying louis. i made up my mind not to last night, the very moment i promised—and so i wrote to you before i slept. it is not at all difficult to spend money; it is as easy to spend five thousand francs for a bed as five, if you have the money. and i had the money in my reticule. i shan’t tell you now how i got it, but i did, just the same, cartouche. [pg 143]i long to see you. i did something for you to-day that i would not do for any one else in the world. you know how afraid i am of monkeys? well, i can not explain in a letter, but you will be pleased when i tell you all. fifi.”
it was not louis bourcet’s habit to appear in his aunt’s apartment until eight o’clock, but at six o’clock, seeing a great van drawn up before the door, from which was disgorged innumerable large parcels addressed to his fiancée, louis, like other good men, was vanquished by his curiosity. he mounted the stairs, on which he was jostled at every step by men carrying huge pasteboard boxes of every size and shape, all addressed to mademoiselle chiaramonti.
fifi stood, with a brightly smiling face, at the head of the stairs, directing the parcels to be carried into her own room. louis, after speaking to her, ventured to say:
“the cost of your purchases must be very great.”
“yes,” answered fifi, merrily, “but when one is about to make a grand marriage, such as i am, one should have good clothes.”
[pg 144]
louis bourcet, thus openly tickled under the fifth rib, smiled rather anxiously, and replied:
“but one should be prudent, mademoiselle. an extravagant wife would give me a great deal of pain.”
“ah, a woman happy enough to be married to you could not give you a moment’s pain,” cried fifi tenderly.
louis started and blushed deeply,—this open lovemaking was a new thing, and very embarrassing,—but it is difficult to tell the lady in the case that she is too demonstrative.
fifi, with a truly impish intelligence, saw at a glance the misery she could inflict upon poor louis by her demonstrations of affection, and the discovery filled her with unholy joy, particularly as madame bourcet, sitting in the snuff-colored drawing-room, was within hearing through the open door.
“only wait,” cried fifi, as she skipped into her own room; “only wait until you see me in these things i bought to-day, and you will be as much in love with me as i am with you!”
louis, blushing redder than any beet that ever grew, entered the snuff-colored drawing-room and [pg 145]closed the door after him. madame bourcet’s countenance showed that she had heard every word.
“in my day,” said she, in a severe tone, “young ladies did not fall in love with their fiancés, much less proclaim the fact.”
louis shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
“we must make allowances, aunt, for mademoiselle chiaramonti’s early training—and we must not forget that her grandfather was cousin to his holiness, and mademoiselle has a hundred thousand francs of her own.” louis mentally added, “and a hundred thousand francs is not picked up with every girl.”
“she will not have a hundred thousand francs if she goes shopping like this very often,” stiffly replied madame bourcet. “i should not be surprised if she had squandered all of a thousand francs in one day.”
just then the door opened, and a tremendous hat, with eleven large feathers on it, and much else besides, appeared. fifi’s delicate bright face, now as solemn as a judge’s, was seen under this huge creation. the red and green striped satin cloak, with the large lace and fur-trimmed sleeves, concealed some of the yellow brocade with the big [pg 146]purple flowers, but some yards of it were visible, trailing on the floor. the bird of paradise fan and a muff the size of a barrel completed fifi’s costume.
madame bourcet gave a faint scream and louis almost jumped out of his chair at the show. fifi, parading solemnly up and down, surveying herself complacently, remarked:
“this is the costume i shall wear when we pay our visit of ceremony to the holy father, upon my marriage.”
a dead pause followed. both madame bourcet and louis were too stunned to speak. fifi, seeing to what a state they were reduced, returned to her room, and being an expert in quick changes of costume, reappeared in a few minutes wearing one of the violently sensational negligées, in which she looked like a living rainbow.
neither madame bourcet nor louis knew what to say at this catastrophe, and therefore said nothing. but fifi was voluble enough for both. she harangued on the beauty of the costumes, and their extraordinary cheapness, without mentioning the price, and claimed to have a gem of a gown to [pg 147]exhibit, which would eclipse anything she had yet shown.
when she went to put this marvelous creation on, madame bourcet recovered speech enough to say:
“a thousand francs, i said a few minutes ago—two thousand i say now. only ninety-eight thousand francs of her fortune is left—of that i am sure.”
“i am not sure there is so much left,” responded louis gloomily.
the door opened and a vision appeared. it was fifi in the spangled white ball gown à la grecque. the narrow, scanty skirt did not reach to her ankles. the waist, according to the fashion of the time, was under her arms, and the bodice was about four inches long. there were no sleeves, only tiny straps across fifi’s white arms; and her whole outfit could have been put in louis bourcet’s waistcoat pocket.
madame bourcet fell back in her chair, with a groan. louis rose, red and furious, and said in portentous tones:
“you will excuse me, mademoiselle, if i retire behind the screen while you remain with that costume on in my presence.”
[pg 148]
“do you want me to take it off then?” asked fifi airily; but louis was already behind the screen.
“aunt,” he called out sternly, “kindly let me know when mademoiselle chiaramonti has retired.”
“i can not,” responded madame bourcet, briefly, “for i shall myself retire.” and madame bourcet marched away to her own room.
“louis,” said a timid, tender little voice, “don’t you think this gown more suitable to wear than the yellow brocade when we go to pay our visit of ceremony to the holy father?”
louis bourcet was near choking with wrath at this. what right had she to call him louis? he had never asked her to do so—their engagement was not even formally announced; he had never spoken to her or of her except as mademoiselle chiaramonti. and that gown to go visiting the holy father!
“mademoiselle,” replied louis in a voice of thunder, still from behind the screen, “i consider that gown wholly improper for you to appear before any one in, myself included.”
“just come and take a look at it,” pleaded fifi.
“i will not, mademoiselle; and i give you warning i am now about to leave this room.”
“i thought you would contrive to get a look at me, and not stick behind that screen,” remarked fifi, with a sudden explosion of laughter, as louis stalked from behind the screen. but the injustice and impropriety of her remark was emphasized by his indignantly turning his head away from her as he made for the door.
“oh,” cried fifi, impishly, “you can see me perfectly well in the mirror, with your head turned that way!”
an angry bang of the door after him was louis bourcet’s only answer to this.
fifi surveyed herself in the mirror which she had accused the innocent louis of studying.
“this gown is perfectly outrageous, and it would be as much as my life is worth to let cartouche see it,” she thought. “but if only it can frighten off that odious, ridiculous thing, how happy i shall be!”
fifi retired to her room. eight o’clock was the hour when tea was served in the drawing-room, and both madame bourcet and louis appeared [pg 150]on the scene inwardly uncomfortable as to the meeting with fifi. there sat fifi, but without the least appearance of discomfort; on the contrary, more smiling and more at ease than they had ever seen her. the door to her bedroom was open, and as soon as madame bourcet and louis entered they were saluted by an overwhelming odor of burning. madame bourcet, who was a fire-fiend, shrieked at once:
“something is on fire! go, go, inform the police; fetch some water, and let me faint!”
“there isn’t the least danger,” cried fifi; “it is only my improper ball gown which is burning in my grate.” and they saw, through the open door, the ball gown stuffed in the grate, in which a fire was smoldering. some pieces of coal were piled upon it, to keep it from blazing up, and it was being slowly consumed, with perfect safety to the surroundings and an odor as if a warehouse were afire.
madame bourcet concluded not to faint, and she and louis stood staring at each other. but they were not the only ones to be startled. the other tenants in the house had taken the alarm, and the bell in madame bourcet’s lobby was being frantically[pg 151] pulled. fifi ran and opened the door. there stood doctor mailly, the eminent surgeon, who had the apartment above the bourcet’s; colonel and madame bruart, who lived in the apartment below, and about half a dozen others of the highly respectable persons who inhabited this highly respectable house.
“ladies and gentlemen,” said fifi, in the tone of easy confidence which the stage had bred in her, “there is nothing whatever to be alarmed about. i am simply burning up a gown which monsieur louis bourcet, my fiancé, objected to—and as—as—i am madly in love with him, i destroy the gown in order to win his approval. can any of you—at least those who know what it is to love and be beloved—think me wrong?”
there was a dead silence. louis bourcet, his face crimson, advanced and said sternly to fifi:
“mademoiselle, i desire to say that i consider your conduct in regard to the gown most uncalled for, most sensational and wholly opposed to my wishes.”
“so you wanted to see me wear it again, did you?” cried fifi, roguishly; and then, relapsing into a sentimental attitude, she said: “but you [pg 152]don’t know how much pleasure it gives me to sacrifice that gown for you, dear louis.”
at this, louis bourcet, with a flaming face, replied:
“i beg of you, mademoiselle, not to call me louis; and your expressions of endearment are as unpleasant to me as they are improper.”
the lookers-on began to laugh, and turned away, except colonel bruart, a fat old retired cavalry colonel, on whom a pretty face never failed of its effect.
“mademoiselle,” he cried gallantly, “if i were as young as your fiancé, you might call me all the endearing names in the dictionary and i wouldn’t complain. is this young gentleman a frenchman?”
“yes, monsieur,” replied fifi, sweetly.
“then,” replied colonel bruart, turning his broad back on the scene, “i am glad there are not many like him. adieu, mademoiselle.”
fifi, madame bourcet and louis returned to the drawing-room. the bourcets were stupefied. fifi was evidently a dangerous person to adopt into a family, but a hundred thousand francs is a great [pg 153]deal of money. fifi, by way of administering a final shock, said:
“anyway, the gown only cost five hundred francs, and that seemed to me little enough to pay for pleasing you, louis. and yet, you do not seem pleased.”
“i am not,” responded louis, who found fifi’s singular endearments as trying as her clothes.
the evening passed with the utmost constraint on every one except fifi, who was entirely at her ease and in great spirits.
madame bourcet and louis each spent a sleepless night, and next morning held a council of war in madame bourcet’s bedroom. another startling thought had occurred to them: where did fifi get the money to pay for the outlandish things? on each parcel madame bourcet had noted the mark “paid.” fifi had not gone to the bank; and yet, she must have had several thousand francs in hand. possibly, she had more than a hundred thousand francs. the holy father might have presented her with a considerable sum of money the day he had the long interview with her.
there were many perplexing surmises; and, at [pg 154]last, wearied with their anxieties, both madame bourcet and louis resolved that madame bourcet, after attending her brother’s lecture, should consult that eminent man, as an expert in managing heiresses. it had become a very serious question as to whether fifi should be admitted into the bourcet family or not, but then, there was the money!
madame bourcet was not expected to return before half-past two, as her conference with the professor was to take place after the lecture; but at two o’clock, precisely, louis bourcet appeared. he had spent an anxious morning. whichever way the cat might jump would be disastrous for him. if he went on with the marriage, he was likely to die of shock at some of fifi’s vagaries; and if the marriage were declared off, there was a hundred thousand francs, and possibly more, gone, to say nothing of the last chance of being allied to a reigning sovereign. poor louis was beset with all the troubles of the over-righteous man.
as he entered the drawing-room, fifi, dressed in the yellow brocade, which looked more weird than ever by daylight, ran forward to meet him.
[pg 155]
“how glad i am that you have come!” she cried. “i have something beautiful to show you. look!”
she threw wide her bedroom door, and there, filling up half the large room, stood the gorgeous blue satin and gold bed.
louis was stricken dumb. he had never seen such a machine before, but being a practical person he saw at a glance its costliness. he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. however, fifi remarked rapturously:
“it was made for the empress, but the emperor, thinking the price too much, refused to take it; and it was only five thousand francs, too!”
then, running and exhibiting the lace, the gilt tassels and other paraphernalia of the bed, fifi concluded with saying:
“of course, i shan’t sleep in it—it’s much too fine. i don’t think it was ever meant to be slept in—but see—” here fifi raised the valance, and showed her own mattress, which she had substantial reasons for holding on to, “that’s what i shall sleep on! no one shall call me extravagant!”
louis retreated to the drawing-room. fifi followed him, shutting the door carefully after her.
[pg 156]
just then there was a commotion and a scuffle heard outside, in the lobby, and angéline’s shrill voice raised high.
“that must be the monkeys!” cried fifi, running out.
two italians, each with a robust-looking monkey, were squabbling on the stairs with angéline. the italians, each bent on getting in first, had begun a scuffle which was growing perilously near a fight. neither paid the slightest attention to angéline’s fierce demand that they and their monkeys take themselves off. when fifi appeared, both of the monkey venders burst into voluble explanations and denunciations. fifi, however, had lost something of her cool courage. in her heart she was afraid of monkeys, and had not meant to let them get so far as the drawing-room door.
“ah,” she cried to the italians, thinking to pacify both of them, “here is a franc apiece for your trouble, and take the monkeys away. i don’t think either will suit.”
“no!” shrieked both of the italians in chorus. “we have brought our monkeys and mademoiselle must at least examine them.”
this was anything but an agreeable proposition [pg 157]to fifi; nor was she reassured by each of the italians declaring vehemently that his rival’s monkey was as fierce as a lion and a disgrace to the simian tribe. fifi secretly thought that both of them were telling the truth in that respect, and totally disbelieved them when each swore that his own monkey was a companion fit for kings. all fifi could do, therefore, was to say, with an assumption of bravado:
“i will give you each two francs if you will go away and bring the monkeys to-morrow.”
“three francs!” shouted one of her compatriots, while the other bawled, “five francs!”
fifi had as much as ten francs about her, so she gladly paid the ten francs, and the italians departed, each swearing he would come the next day, and would, meanwhile, have the other’s blood.
fifi returned to the drawing-room. on the hearth-rug stood louis, pale and determined.
“mademoiselle,” he said, “there must be an end of this.”
“of what?” asked fifi, innocently.
“either of the performances of yesterday and to-day, or of our arrangement to marry.”
[pg 158]
“o-o-o-h!” wailed fifi, “just as i had fallen so beautifully in love with you!”
louis’s face turned paler still.
“mademoiselle, i do not know how to take such speeches.”
“i see you don’t,” replied fifi.
“it is the first time i have ever been thrown with a young person of your profession,” began louis.
“or with an heiress worth a hundred thousand francs, and the relative of a reigning sovereign—” added fifi, maliciously.
louis hesitated, and changed from one foot to the other. it was hardly likely that the holy father would let so desirable a match for his young relative escape. louis’s esteem for himself was as tall as the vendôme column, and he naturally thought everybody took him at his own valuation. the holy father’s possible attitude in the matter was alarming and disconcerting to poor louis.
“and besides,” added fifi, “your attentions have been compromising. do you recall, monsieur—since you forbid me to call you louis—that you have played a game of cribbage with me every evening since i have lived under your aunt’s charge? is that nothing? is my reputation to be [pg 159]sacrificed to your love of cribbage? do you suppose that i shall let my relative, the holy father, remain in ignorance of those games of cribbage? beware, monsieur louis bourcet, that you are not made to repent of the heartless way in which you entrapped my affections at the cribbage-board.”
and fifi walked with great dignity into her bedroom and banged the door after her. once inside, she opened her arms wide and whispered softly:
“cartouche! cartouche! you will not be any such lover as this creature!”
meanwhile, madame bourcet had returned from her conference with her brother. angéline had met her on the stairs with a gruesome tale of the blue satin bed, and the two monkeys, who had been invited to call the next day. it was too much for madame bourcet. she dropped on a chair as soon as she reached the drawing-room. there louis bourcet burst forth with his account, of the blue satin bed and the monkeys, adding many harrowing details omitted by angéline.
“and what does my uncle say?” he asked, gloomily.
“he says,” replied madame bourcet, more [pg 160]gloomily, “that mademoiselle chiaramonti’s conduct is such as to drive any prudent man to distraction; and that if you marry her with even more than a hundred thousand francs’ fortune, you will be doing a most imprudent thing.”
madame bourcet paused for louis to digest this. then, she continued, after an impressive pause:
“and my brother also says, and desired me particularly to impress this upon you—that a dot of a hundred thousand francs is something enormous in our station of life; that he does not know of a single acquaintance of his own who has been so fortunate as to marry so much; and his own good fortune in marrying two hundred thousand francs is absolutely unprecedented. moreover, through mademoiselle chiaramonti’s connection with the holy father, your prospects, no doubt, would be splendidly advanced; and to throw away such a chance would be—a most imprudent thing.”
so all the comfort poor louis got was, that, whatever he did, he would be doing a most imprudent thing. the knowledge of this made him a truly miserable man.
[pg 161]
