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A Start in Life [70]

By Root 1148 0
fitting up for his Florentine the former apartment of the late

Coralie. In Paris there are suites of rooms as well as houses and

streets that have their predestinations. Enriched with a magnificent

service of plate, the "prima danseuse" of the Gaiete began to give

dinners, spent three hundred francs a month on her dress, never went

out except in a hired carriage, and had a maid for herself, a cook,

and a little footman.



In fact, an engagement at the Opera was already in the wind. The Cocon

d'Or did homage to its first master by sending its most splendid

products for the gratification of Mademoiselle Cabirolle, now called

Florentine. The magnificence which suddenly burst upon her apartment

in the rue de Vendome would have satisfied the most ambitious

supernumerary. After being the master of the ship for seven years,

Cardot now found himself towed along by a force of unlimited caprice.

But the luckless old gentleman was fond of his tyrant. Florentine was

to close his eyes; he meant to leave her a hundred thousand francs.

The iron age had now begun.



Georges Marest, with thirty thousand francs a year, and a handsome

face, courted Florentine. Every danseuse makes a point of having some

young man who will take her to drive, and arrange the gay excursions

into the country which all such women delight in. However

disinterested she may be, the courtship of such a star is a passion

which costs some trifles to the favored mortal. There are dinners at

restaurants, boxes at the theatres, carriages to go to the environs

and return, choice wines consumed in profusion,--for an opera danseuse

eats and drinks like an athlete. Georges amused himself like other

young men who pass at a jump from paternal discipline to a rich

independence, and the death of his uncle, nearly doubling his means,

had still further enlarged his ideas. As long as he had only his

patrimony of eighteen thousand francs a year, his intention was to

become a notary, but (as his cousin remarked to the clerks of

Desroches) a man must be stupid who begins a profession with the

fortune most men hope to acquire in order to leave it. Wiser then

Georges, Frederic persisted in following the career of public office,

and of putting himself, as we have seen, in training for it.



A young man as handsome and attractive as Georges might very well

aspire to the hand of a rich creole; and the clerks in Desroches'

office, all of them the sons of poor parents, having never frequented

the great world, or, indeed, known anything about it, put themselves

into their best clothes on the following day, impatient enough to

behold, and be presented to the Mexican Marquise de las Florentinas y

Cabirolos.



"What luck," said Oscar to Godeschal, as they were getting up in the

morning, "that I had just ordered a new coat and trousers and

waistcoat, and that my dear mother had made me that fine outfit! I

have six frilled shirts of fine linen in the dozen she made for me. We

shall make an appearance! Ha! ha! suppose one of us were to carry off

the Creole marchioness from that Georges Marest!"



"Fine occupation that, for a clerk in our office!" cried Godeschal.

"Will you never control your vanity, popinjay?"



"Ah! monsieur," said Madame Clapart, who entered the room at that

moment to bring her son some cravats, and overhead the last words of

the head-clerk, "would to God that my Oscar might always follow your

advice. It is what I tell him all the time: 'Imitate Monsieur

Godeschal; listen to what he tells you.'"



"He'll go all right, madame," interposed Godeschal, "but he mustn't

commit any more blunders like one he was guilty of last night, or

he'll lose the confidence of the master. Monsieur Desroches won't

stand any one not succeeding in what he tells them to do. He ordered

your son, for a first employment in his new clerkship, to get a copy

of a judgment which ought to have been served last evening,
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