"And when mademoiselle hear' what that play is ab-out she consent' at the lazt to go. Biccause tha'z ab-out a girl what billieve' a man's in love to her, biccause he pay her those li'l' galanterie of high life--li'l'

pol-ite figtion'--what every man---unless he's marrie'--egspect to pay to every girl, to make thing' pleasant, you know?

"And that play turn out a so egcellent that many people, paying admission ad the door, find they got to pay ag-ain, secon' time, ad their seat, in tear' that they weep; and that make it not so hard for Melanie, who weep ab-out ten price'. Negs day, Sunday, avter church and dinner, she come yonder ad the home of mademoiselle, you know, Bourbon Street, and sit with her in the gol'fish bower of that li'l' garden behine. And she's very much bow' down. And she h-ask mademoiselle if she ain't notiz sinz long time how De l'Isle is paying intention to her, Melanie. But mademoiselle di'n' have to be embarrazz' what to answer, biccause Melanie she's so rattle' she don't wait to hear. And Melanie she say tha'z one cause that she was wanting De l'Isle to see that play; biccause sinz lately she's notiz he's make himseff very complimentary also to mademoiselle, and she, Melanie, she want' him to notiz how that way he's in danger to make mizunderstanding and diztress to himseff and--all concern'.

"And she prod-uce' a piece paper _fill_' with memorandum' of compliment'

he's say to her one time and other, what she's wrote down whiles frezh spoken and what she billieve' are proof that he's in love to her and inten' to make his proposition so soon he's got good sign' he'll be accept'. 'But I ain't never give' him sign,' she say, 'biccause a girl she cann' never be too careful. And so I think I'm bound to show that to you, biccause I muz'n' be careful only for myseff, and if he's say such thing' likewise to you, then tha'z to be false to both of us together.

But, I think,' she say, 'M. De l'Isle he coul'n' never do that!'"

"How did she say all that, angrily or meekly?"

"Oh! meek and weeping till mademoiselle she's compel' to weep likewise.

And ad the end she's compel' to tell Melanie yes, De l'Isle he's pay her those same kind of sentimental plaisanteries; rosebud' to pin on the heart _outside_, a few minute', till the negs cavalier. Castanado, she say, Beloiseau, they do the same--even more. 'Ah!' Melanie say, 'but only to you! and only biccause to say any mo' they are yet af-raid!

Mademoiselle, those both, they are both in love to you!'

"And when Melanie say that, Mlle. Aline take the both hand' of Melanie in her both han' and ask her if she ain't herseff put them both, Castanado, Beloiseau, up to that--to fall in love to her. And pretty soon Melanie she's compel' to confezz that, not with word', but juz' with the fore-head on the knee of mademoiselle and crying like babie. And she say she's sin'. And yet same time while she h-ask' mademoiselle to pray the good G.o.d and the mother of G.o.d to forgive that sin, she h-ask her to pray also that they'll make De l'Isle to love her.

"Biccause, she say, 'tis those unfortunate rosebud' of sentimental plaisanterie he give her what firz' make her to love him. And mademoiselle she ag-ree' to that if Melanie she'll tell that whole story also to her mother; biccause mademoiselle she see what a hole that put them both in, her and Melanie, when she, mademoiselle, is bound to know he's paying, De l'Isle, all his real intention' to herseff. And Melanie she's in agonie and say no-no-no! but if mademoiselle will tell it, yes!

And by reason that she's kep' that from her mother sinze the firz', she say tell not Mme. Alexandre but Mme. Castanado, even when mademoiselle say if Mme. Castanado then also monsieur; biccause madame she'll certainly make that condition, and biccause monsieur he can a.s.sist her to commenze that whole businezz over, French way. And same time Melanie she take very li'l' stock in that French way, by reason that, avter all, those De l'Isle, though their money's gone, are still pretty high-life.

"And tha'z how it come that those Castanado' have to tell me. Biccause madame she cann' skip ar-ound pretty light, you know, and biccause they think my, eh--pull--with those De l'Isle' is the moze of anybody, and biccause I require to know how they are sure 'tis uzeless any mo' for _my_ son, or _their_ son, than for the son of De l'Isle, to sed the heart on Mlle. Aline. Also tha'z to egsplain me why Mlle. Aline say if all those intention' to her don't finizh righd there, she got to stop coming ad Mme. Alexandre. And of co'se! You see that, I su'pose?"

"And where was young Dubroca in all this?"

"Ah, another migsture! He was nowhere. Any'ow, tha'z how he feel; and those other three boy' they di'n' feel otherwise. You see? We coul'n'

egsplain them anything--ab-out Mlle. Aline,--all we can say: 'Road close'--stim-roller.' So ad the end Dubroca he have, slimly, the advantage; for him, to Melanie, the road any 'ow seem' open; yet in vain.

So there, all at same time, in that li'l' gang, rue Royale, was five heart' blidding for love, and nine other' blidding for those five and for Mlle. Aline.

"Well, of co'se--you see?--n.o.body cann' stand that! Firzt to find his way out of that is Melanie. Melanie's confessor he think tha'z a sin to keep any longer those fact' from her mother, and she confezz them to Mme.

Alexandre, and ad the end she say: 'Mamma, in our li'l' coterie I cann'

look anybody in the face any mo', and I'm going to biccome train' nurse.

Tha'z not running away, yet same time tha'z not every evening to be getting me singe' in the same candle.'

"Then, almoze while she saying that, that son of De l'Isle he say to my son--who he's fon' of like a brother, and my son of him likewise, though the one is a so dashing and the other a so quiet--''Oiseau,' he say,--biccause tha'z the nickname of my son,--'papa and me we visit' the French consul to-day and arrange' a li'l' affair.'

"And when he want' to tell some mo' my son he stop' him: 'Enough! I div-ine that. Why you di'n' take me al-ong? You'll arrange to go at that France, of my _grand'mere_, and that Alsace, of her mother, to be fighting _aviateur_, and leave '_Oiseau_ behine? Ah, you cann' do that!'

And when that young Dubroca and Castanado get the win' of them, the all four, all of same sweet maladie, they go together; two to be juz'

_poilu_', two, _aviateur_'. That old remedie, you know; if they can't love--they'll fight! They are yonder, still al-ive, laz' account."

Mainly to himself Chester said, "And I am here, my land still at peace, last account."

"And also you, you've h-ask' mademoiselle, I think," said the ironworker, "and alas, she's say aggain, no, eh?"

The reply was a gaze and a nod.

"Well, Mr. Chezter, I'm sorrie! Her reason--you can't tell. 'Tis maybe juz' biccause those hero' are yonder. 'Tis maybe only that those two aunt' are here. Maybe 'tis biccause both, maybe neither. You can't tell. Maybe you h-ask too soon. Ad the present she know' you only sinze a few week'. She don't know none of yo' hiztorie, neither yo'

familie--egcep' that h-angel of the Lord. Yo' char-_acter_, she may like that very well yet same time she know' how easy that is for women to make miztake' about. Maybe y'ought to 'ave ask' M'sieu' Thornd.y.k.e-Smith to write at yo' home-town and get you recommen'. Even a cook he's got to 'ave that--or a publisher, eh?"

"I've got that--within reach; my law firm has it. But, pshaw! _I_ think, Beloiseau, while all your maybe's may be right the thing that explains mademoiselle's whole situation is that she's never seen a man worthy to touch a hem of her robe; and the only argument a lover can lay at her feet is that she never will."

"And you'll lay that, negs time?"

"Not till that ma.n.u.script business is settled, don't you see? Come, you must go to bed."

XLIII

Shrimps, rice, and watered wine for a sunset dinner. At its end the three Chapdelaines, each with her small cup of black coffee, left the table and its remnants to the other two members of the household, and pa.s.sed out as usual to the bower benches and the goldfish pool.

Humming-birds were there, drinking frenziedly from honeysuckle cups to the health of all things beautiful and ecstatic. Mlle. Yvonne stood at a bench's end to watch one of them dart from bloom to bloom. "Ah, Corinne," she sighed, "if we could all be juz' humming-bird'!"

"_Cherie_," cried her sister, "you are spilling yo' coffee!"

Whether for the coffee, for the fact that we can't all be humming-birds, or for some thought not yet spoken, Mlle. Corinne's eyes were all but spilling their tears. As the trio sat down. Aline said in gentlest accusation to the younger aunt:

"You are trembling. Why is that?"

The younger sister looked appealingly to the elder. "_Chere_," Mlle.

Corinne said to the girl, "we are anxiouz to confezz you something. We woul'n' never be anxiouz to confezz that, only we're af-raid already you've foun' us out!"

"Yes. I came this evening by Ovide's shop to return a book----"

"An' he tell you he's meet us----?"

"On the steps of the _archeveche_."

"Ah, _cherie_," Yvonne tearfully broke in, "can you ever pardon that to us?"

Aline smiled: "Oh, yes; in the course of time, I suppose. That was not like a drinking-saloon."

"Ah-h! not in the leas'! We di'n' touch there a drop--n.o.bodie di'n'

offer us!"

The niece addressed the other aunt: "Go on. Tell me why you were there."

"Aline, we'll confess us! We wend there biccause--we are orphan'! Of co'se, we know that biffo', sinze long time, many, many year'; but only sinze a few day'----"

"Joy-ride day," Aline put in, a bit tensely.

"Ah, no! _Cherie_, you muz' not supose----"

"Never mind; 'last few days'--go on."

"Well, sinze those laz' few day' we bigin to feel like we juz' got to take step' ab-oud that!"

"So you took those steps of the _archeveche_."