Other People's Money [107]
struggle, I yielded, and went out.
That night I spent on a chair in a neighbor's room. But the next day, when I went for my things, my former friend refused to give them, and presumed to keep every thing. I was compelled, though reluctantly, to resort to the intervention of the commissary of police.
I gained my point. But the good days had gone. Luck did not follow me to the wretched furnished house where I hired a room. I had no sewing-machine, and but few acquaintances. By working fifteen or sixteen hours a day, I made thirty or forty cents. That was not enough to live on. Then work failed me altogether, and, piece by piece, every thing I had went to the pawnbroker's. On a gloomy December morning, I was turned out of my room, and left on the pavement with a ten-cent-piece for my fortune.
Never had I been so low; and I know not to what extremities I might have come at last, when I happened to 'think of that wealthy lady whose horses had upset me on the Boulevard. I had kept her card. Without hesitation, I went unto a grocery, and calling for some paper and a pen, I wrote, overcoming the last struggle of my pride,
"'Do you remember, madame, a poor girl whom your carriage came near crushing to death? Once before she applied to you, and received no answer. She is to-day without shelter and without bread; and you are her supreme hope.'
"I placed these few lines in an envelope, and ran to the address indicated on the card. It was a magnificent residence, with a vast court-yard in front. In the porter's lodge, five or six servants were talking as I came in, and looked at me impudently, from head to foot, when I requested them to take my letter to Mme. de Thaller. One of them, however, took pity on me,
"'Come with me,' he said, 'come along !'
"He made me cross the yard, and enter the vestibule; and then,
"Give me your letter,' he said, 'and wait here for me.'"
Maxence was about to express the thoughts which Mme. de Thaller's name naturally suggested to his mind, but Mlle. Lucienne interrupted him,
"In all my life," she went on, "I had never seen any thing so magnificent as that vestibule with its tall columns, its tessellated floor, its large bronze vases filled with the rarest flowers, and its red velvet benches, upon which tall footmen in brilliant livery were lounging.
"I was, I confess, somewhat intimidated by all of this splendor; and I remained awkwardly standing, when suddenly the servants stood up respectfully.
"A door had just opened, through which appeared a man already past middle age, tall, thin, dressed in the extreme of fashion, and wearing long red whiskers falling over his chest."
"The Baron de Thaller," murmured Maxence.
Mlle. Lucienne took no notice of the interruption.
"The attitude of the servants," she went on, "had made me easily guess that he was the master. I was bowing to him, blushing and embarrassed, when, noticing me, he stopped short, shuddering from head to foot.
"Who are you?' he asked me roughly.
"I attributed his manner to the sad condition of my dress, which appeared more miserable and more dilapidated still amid the surrounding splendors; and, in a scarcely intelligible voice, I began,
"'I am a poor girl, sir -'
"But he interrupted me.
"'To the point! What do you want?'
"'I am awaiting an answer, sir, to a request which I have just forwarded to the baroness.'
"What about?'
"'Once sir, I was run over in the street by the baroness's carriage: I was severely wounded, and had to be taken to the hospital.'
"I fancied there was something like terror in the man's look.
"It is you, then, who once before sent a long letter to my wife, in which you told the story of your life?'
"'Yes, sir, it was I.'
"'You stated in that letter that you had no parents, having been left by your mother with some gardeners at Louveciennes?'
"'That is the truth.'
"'What has become of these gardeners?'
"'They are dead.'
"'What was your mother's name?'
"'I never knew.'
"To M. de Thaller's first surprise had succeeded
That night I spent on a chair in a neighbor's room. But the next day, when I went for my things, my former friend refused to give them, and presumed to keep every thing. I was compelled, though reluctantly, to resort to the intervention of the commissary of police.
I gained my point. But the good days had gone. Luck did not follow me to the wretched furnished house where I hired a room. I had no sewing-machine, and but few acquaintances. By working fifteen or sixteen hours a day, I made thirty or forty cents. That was not enough to live on. Then work failed me altogether, and, piece by piece, every thing I had went to the pawnbroker's. On a gloomy December morning, I was turned out of my room, and left on the pavement with a ten-cent-piece for my fortune.
Never had I been so low; and I know not to what extremities I might have come at last, when I happened to 'think of that wealthy lady whose horses had upset me on the Boulevard. I had kept her card. Without hesitation, I went unto a grocery, and calling for some paper and a pen, I wrote, overcoming the last struggle of my pride,
"'Do you remember, madame, a poor girl whom your carriage came near crushing to death? Once before she applied to you, and received no answer. She is to-day without shelter and without bread; and you are her supreme hope.'
"I placed these few lines in an envelope, and ran to the address indicated on the card. It was a magnificent residence, with a vast court-yard in front. In the porter's lodge, five or six servants were talking as I came in, and looked at me impudently, from head to foot, when I requested them to take my letter to Mme. de Thaller. One of them, however, took pity on me,
"'Come with me,' he said, 'come along !'
"He made me cross the yard, and enter the vestibule; and then,
"Give me your letter,' he said, 'and wait here for me.'"
Maxence was about to express the thoughts which Mme. de Thaller's name naturally suggested to his mind, but Mlle. Lucienne interrupted him,
"In all my life," she went on, "I had never seen any thing so magnificent as that vestibule with its tall columns, its tessellated floor, its large bronze vases filled with the rarest flowers, and its red velvet benches, upon which tall footmen in brilliant livery were lounging.
"I was, I confess, somewhat intimidated by all of this splendor; and I remained awkwardly standing, when suddenly the servants stood up respectfully.
"A door had just opened, through which appeared a man already past middle age, tall, thin, dressed in the extreme of fashion, and wearing long red whiskers falling over his chest."
"The Baron de Thaller," murmured Maxence.
Mlle. Lucienne took no notice of the interruption.
"The attitude of the servants," she went on, "had made me easily guess that he was the master. I was bowing to him, blushing and embarrassed, when, noticing me, he stopped short, shuddering from head to foot.
"Who are you?' he asked me roughly.
"I attributed his manner to the sad condition of my dress, which appeared more miserable and more dilapidated still amid the surrounding splendors; and, in a scarcely intelligible voice, I began,
"'I am a poor girl, sir -'
"But he interrupted me.
"'To the point! What do you want?'
"'I am awaiting an answer, sir, to a request which I have just forwarded to the baroness.'
"What about?'
"'Once sir, I was run over in the street by the baroness's carriage: I was severely wounded, and had to be taken to the hospital.'
"I fancied there was something like terror in the man's look.
"It is you, then, who once before sent a long letter to my wife, in which you told the story of your life?'
"'Yes, sir, it was I.'
"'You stated in that letter that you had no parents, having been left by your mother with some gardeners at Louveciennes?'
"'That is the truth.'
"'What has become of these gardeners?'
"'They are dead.'
"'What was your mother's name?'
"'I never knew.'
"To M. de Thaller's first surprise had succeeded