The Romance of Violette

CHAPTER IV

The pain which poor Violette had suffered was not serious; but it was irritating when not counteracted by love's pleasures. I told her before leaving that she should bathe the injured parts in bran water, with an application of a decoction of marshmallow.

I had to explain to her the anatomy of the parts under treatment, and, with the aid of a looking glass, and thanks to the pliancy of her body, I was able to make the demonstration on her own person.

Violette, in her innocence, had never thought of looking at herself and what she saw was perfectly unknown to her.

During the night we spent together she had acquired some vague notions on the way of begetting children. I began by explaining to her the general and physical effect of nature, which is the reproduction of the human kind, the perfecting of this species being quite a secondary matter, a detail of society.

I further pointed out that it was solely with that object that nature had ordained such rapturous sensations in the conjunctions of the sexes, and that the certainty of eternal victory of life over death rested entirely in the attraction which was experienced by all living things, from man to plants.

Then I went into details and explained to her the part played by each organ. I began with the clitoris, the seat of pleasure in young girls, and which is so little developed with them. I then passed on to the membrane of Hymen, thrown as a veil of modesty on the vagina, which later on becomes the maternal outlet. In short, I disclosed to her all the mysteries of the organs of procreation.

She listened with the utmost attention and seemed to drink in all my words, which impressed themselves one by one on her memory.

After this I left her dreaming and pondering over all that I had told her, and wondering that so many things should be concealed by the veil of her innocence.

My resolve was to devote my spare time to Violette's company, but not to neglect meanwhile my usual labours. The lectures which I attended at the School of Medicine, and studies at different museums, always took place in the daytime, I could therefore very well manage to carry them on concurrently with my nocturnal occupations at the Rue Saint Augustin.

When I returned that evening to Violette's room, I found the tea all ready, with cakes and other delicacies. In my absence, Violette had performed her duties as mistress of the house. We therefore dismissed Leonie, with those services we could very well dispense.

We were once more alone. I had left with Violette the preceding evening, a copy of a letter for M. Beruchet. She had written it and forwarded it; there was nothing further to be done in that quarter, and we might rest in peace. No unpleasant enquiries or researches would now be made on account of Violette's sudden disappearance.

She had been too busy thinking to feel dull. All I had told her made an impression on her mind, and she had been pondering on the mysteries I had disclosed. Then, her curiosity being awakened, she had divested herself of all her garments, lighted the candles, and minutely examined her person. But as she had never seen any other woman naked she could not judge the degree of perfection or imperfection of the different parts of her form. Getting tired of this examination, she had set herself to read, but as chance would have it, the book she had taken up was just the sort of book that would set her mind to working. She was in an utter state of perplexity, for the work she was perusing was, Mademoiselle de Maupin by Theophile Gautier.

Now Mademoiselle de Maupin, in the garb of a dashing cavalier, made love to a young lady, and the intrigue wound up by one of those enigmatical scenes of which only a perfect knowledge of the ways of ancient civilization could furnish any clue.

This was the very scene that made poor Violette wonder so. I explained that, in the same way that among molluscs and plants hermaphrodites are to be found (or beings possessing either sex) there were in the animal kingdom, on woman especially, instances of bisexual organs, in appearance at least, on account of the large proportions of the clitoris. I told her that the Greeks, great worshippers, or rather fanatics, of physical beauty, with the view of creating beauteous forms not existing in nature, supposed that the son of Mercury and Venus had been seen bathing in the waters of a fountain, by the nymph Salamacis, who begged the gods to unite her body to that of her lover. The gods granted her prayer, and from the adjunction of female beauty to male beauty there sprang a creature with both sexes, experiencing the same amorous desires for man or woman, and able to satisfy them in both ways.

I promised to take her to the museum to see the Hermaphrodite of Farnese, which, reclining in an easy position on a couch, combines in his person the beauty of both man and woman.

But I explained that this perfect distinction of sexes did not exist in nature, though it is a fact that women with an elongated clitoris often have a marked penchant for persons of their own sex. This was an occasion for relating the story of Sappho, the founder of that worship which, though established hundreds of years ago, has still so many disciples in modern society.

I told her there were two Sapphos-one from Eresas, the other from Mitylene; the one a courtesan, the other a priestess; the one of perfect beauty, the other of ordinary attractions. The adoration of the Greeks for beauty was so great that they struck medals representing the courtesan of Eresas as though she had been a queen.

The other, the Sappho of Mitylene, the less attractive, had reached the marriageable age without having loved or being loved, and she resolved, in imitation of the Amazons of old, to form a league against men, but this new league was still more complete, insomuch that once a year the Amazons allowed their husbands to visit them in their island, whereas the disciples of Sappho made the vow to keep aloof altogether from males, and to have lovers none but persons of their own sex.

“But,” asked Violette, innocently, “what can women do together?”

“They can do what I did to you the day before yesterday with finger and tongue; besides, the name which was given them explains the arts to which they give themselves up. They are called Tribades, from a verb which signifies to rub.”

Sappho moreover, invented an instrument made of certain materials which in shape and appearance resembled the virile member.

Ezekiel, who lived three hundred years after Sappho, reproached the women of Jerusalem with making use of these kinds of images made of gold and silver.

The scandal caused by Sappho grew to such proportions that Venus thought it high time to put an end to it, the more so as the Lesbian religion was being propagated to the other islands of Greece, and, in consequence, her altars were in danger of-being left without worshippers.

There existed a handsome ferryman named Phon, who took passengers from one shore to the other in the harbour of Mitylene. She disguised herself as an old beggar woman, and asked the ferryman to take her over free of charge. But on reaching the opposite bank it so happened that Phon became aware that his passenger was not an old beggar woman, but the goddess of Beauty and Love.

The sight of Venus produced so potential and visible an effect upon the handsome boatman that it would have been ungrateful on her part not to grant him a reward. Venus therefore blew all round them a cloud which enveloped and hid them from view.

After an hour the cloud was wafted away. Phon found himself alone, but Venus had presented him with a certain perfumed oil which, when applied to his person, would make him loved by all women.

Phon, of course, did not fail to make use of his oil, and as Sappho, when passing him by chance, inhaled the perfume from his locks, she fell in love with handsome Phon, and loved him as she was capable of loving, that is, madly.

Phon jilted her. This was the revenge of the goddess. Seeing that Phon was not to be won, and not being able to renew the miracle of Samilies, Sappho proceeded to Leucate to leap off the rock.

“Why should she jump off a rock?” asked Violette.

“Because disappointed lovers who leaped from the rock into the sea were cured if they could safely reach the bank; if drowned, the cure was still more complete.”

“And do you say there are such women?”

“Many.”

“Wait a little.”

“What?”

“I remember-”

“Ah, I suppose some fair lady fell in love with you.”

“Well, I believe that may be the case.”

“'Pon my word, it would be an amusing thing. Tell me all about it.”

She settled down on my knees.

“Well,” she said, “when I was at Madame Beruchet's, there came sometimes in a fine carriage and pair, with a black footman, a great lady whom they called Madame la Comtesse. When she bought corsets, or dressing gowns or drawers, she would have me in the back shop, to see that the articles fitted her.

“At first she did not pay more attention to me than to the others, but by degrees, it seemed to her that nothing she bought would suit her unless it passed through my hands; so much so that she would buy any article offered to her as my own make, though I had never touched it.

“Four days ago-but you will see I had never given any thought to it at the time, but I remember now-they had some goods to be delivered to her, and she sent her carriage saying that I, and no other girl, should take them to her. I went and found her alone in a small boudoir hung with satin, and a quantity of vases and beautiful china about. The lady's maid was there and asked whether she should wait on her, but the Comtesse dismissed her, saying she would not for the time require her services. Indeed, when we were alone, she said it was all very well, but I must try on myself all the articles ordered, because if she tried them on she would never be able to tell whether they fitted.

“I pointed out that I was shorter by a head, and that consequently, it would be impossible to know how they would fit her; but she would not hear me, and began to undress me.

“I offered no resistance though I was quite ashamed, and I dared not open my lips while she divested me of my kerchief and my bodice, exclaiming the while: 'Oh! the pretty neck! Ah! what beautiful shoulders! What charming little bubbles!' and she kissed my neck, my throat and bosom, passing her hands all over and her lips afterwards. Suddenly she said: 'But I forgot, you must try on the drawers.'

“They were pretty drawers with embroidery. She pulled off mine by putting her hands under my chemise, and said: 'Why, her skin is really like satin!'

“'You must one day take a bath with me, will you not? pretty darling, and I will rub you with almond paste and you will become as white as ermine; and, besides, you will have a pretty little black tail, like an ermine.' Saying this, she tried to put her hand on my hair, but I made a spring backwards.

“'Why, you little wild thing, what is the matter with you? Why do you shrink away from me? Do I frighten you?' then she embraced me; but seeing my blushes and perceiving that I was trembling all over, no doubt she dared not push matters further, as she said: 'Come, try that on yourself,' I tried the drawers on. They were too large and too long for me. That gave her a pretext for passing her hands up my thighs in order to pull them up. For a moment her hand remained motionless, or I should say rather that it moved up and down gently so that it seemed as if it were trembling.

“Finally, when she had well kissed me, caressed me, and felt me all over, 'Oh!' she said, 'I think they will fit beautifully. In fact I am sure.'

“Then she dressed me herself, caressing me the while as (before. At last, just before I left, she whispered in my ear:

“'Do not forget that next Sunday you will spend all day with me, that we will take a bath together, and that we dine and go to the theatre together. Mind you, dress yourself prettily. I shall call for you in the afternoon about two o'clock.'“

“But, Sunday is tomorrow!”

“Well, she will not find me at the shop, that's all!”

“How is it you did not breathe a word of all this business?”

“So many things have happened to me during the last few days that I have not even thought of the Comtesse. What a disappointment for her!” and with these words the little romp clapped her hands.

A thought suddenly struck me.

“Would you be afraid if a woman made love to you?”

“I! What should I be afraid of?”

“I don't know.”

“No; especially if I am forewarned and I know what it is. Come, you have formed some plan?”

“I? No, I confess, however, that I should feel amused to see how a woman sets about it, to make love to another woman.”

“Just, as if you hadn't seen that already, you wicked man!”

“No, I once saw some girls playing at that sort of thing for the sake of money; but you know, it was not the real thing.”

“Well, that is a pity.”

“Perhaps it would be possible to renew your acquaintance with her?”

“How?”

“Do you know her address?”

“No.”

“But you were at her house.”

“The carriage took me there, but I did not notice the street or number.”

“If such is the case let us say no more about it. You will find some other lady-love, perhaps more than one-I feel certain.”

“Well, now when I come to think of it, you are not jealous, sir?”

“Of a woman, why should I be jealous of a woman? She will only excite your amorous desires, and I shall get a much better reception when I come to satisfy them.”

“But if it were a man?”

“Ah!” said I, in as serious a tone as I could; “that's another matter. If you deceived me with a man, I should kill you!”

“I am glad to hear that. I was getting afraid that you did not love me.”

“Do not love you? You will see!” Luckily it was easy for me to give her proofs of my love. I took her in my arms and put her on the bed. In a moment we lay stark naked side by side.

I had forgotten till then to pull aside the curtain which hid the looking glass, I slipped the cord and it came into view.

Violette uttered an exclamation of joy.

“Ah!” said she, “how charming. We shall be able to see ourselves in the glass.”

“Yes; as long as you can look on.”

“I bet you I will look to the very end.”

“I bet you cannot.”

I began operations by imprinting a long kiss on that part called the Mount of Venus.

“Ah!” said she, “you will not be able to see anything now.”

“You will use your eyes for both of us, and I will guess as much as I can.”

I then used my tongue as I had done before.

“Ah!” she said, “I know what you are doing; but the sensation is even better than the other day. Oh! where do you put your tongue now? The sensation is so delightful, I think I shall die!… Good gracious!… No! no! I will not yield! I will resist!… I will… Ah I am vanquished!… My dear love, my eyes are closing up… I cannot see anything. I die!”

Nights follow one another without being alike for lovers only, but as the description of this one might seem the exact reproduction of the preceding one, I shall beg leave of the reader to say nothing further about it.

The next day about twelve o'clock, I was drawing a sketch of Violette from memory, when there came a ring at the bell, and my servant said the Comtesse de Mainfoy wished to see me. I had a foreboding.

“Usher her in,” I said to my man, and going to the door of the dining room, I led the way to my bedroom, which served me also for a study and a studio.

She seemed at first a little embarrassed, took an armchair and after some hesitation lifted her veil. She was a tall young woman of about eight and twenty, with magnificent curls flowing over her shoulders; her eyebrows, eyelashes and eyes were jet black, her nose straight, her lips as red as coral, with a rather heavy chin. Her breasts and hips were not so well developed as one might have expected from her height.

Perceiving that I awaited an explanation of her visit:

“Sir,” she said, “you will perhaps think it rather strange that I should call on you; but you alone can give me the information I seek.”

I bowed assent.

“I am too happy, Madame, to be able to do anything for you.”

“Sir, there was at the milliner's who lives on the ground floor of this house, a young girl who goes by the name of Violette.”

“Just so, Madame.”

“She disappeared three days ago. When I enquired of her young friends and the mistress of the house, they one and all replied that they could not say what had become of her. But when I applied to the master and said that I felt much interested in the child; in fact, to a degree that I should employ the police to look for her, he said that he had good reasons for believing that if I applied to you, I could procure the information I require. I trust therefore, you will kindly inform me of her whereabouts.”

“I have no reason whatever for keeping the child out of the way, especially as you wish her well; but I was wrong no doubt in keeping her from M. Beruchet, who had unscrewed the bolt of her bedroom so as to be able to enter at any time for his own purposes. At two o'clock in the morning the child came here for protection, and I took her in, that's all.”

“What! is she here?” cried the Comtesse.

“Not here, Madame; that was impossible. But I had my own bachelor's rooms where I took her.”

“Will you kindly let me have the address?”

“With the greatest of pleasure, Madame. Violette has often spoken of you.”

“She spoke to you about me?”

“Yes, Madame. She said how good you had been to her; and at the very time when the poor child needs protection so much, I should be sorry to deprive her of yours.”

“I can can only thank you heartily, and say how happy I am, sir, that the poor child, not having applied to me, should have sought refuge with you.”

Thereupon I wrote the address: “Rue Neuve Saint Augustin; first floor; the folding doors of green velvet. From me-” and I signed: Christian.

I was not known by any other name in the house.

“You will pardon my being so inquisitive, sir,” said the Countess; “but when do you intend calling upon her?”

“This evening, Madam.”

“Will she be in this afternoon?”

“I am certain she will be at home. You will find her, I have no doubt reading Mademoiselle de Maupin.”

“Did you put that book into her hands?”

“Oh no, Madam, she reads any books she likes.”

“I have some business in the Rue de la Paix, after which I shall go to see her.”

I bowed and escorted the Countess as far as the staircase. I then ran to the window and saw the carriage follow the Rue de Rivoli and turn the corner of the Place Vendome.

I at once took my hat and ran downstairs and was at the Rue Saint Augustin in a moment. I had the key of the passage, so I entered noiselessly the dressing room, and, through an opening made on purpose, I saw Violette sitting in a kind of easy chair, with no other garments than her chemise and half opened dressing gown, with her book on her knees, abstractedly playing with one of her little rosebuds peering out of the masses of her black curls flowing on her breast. Scarcely was I installed at my post of observation than Violette showed signs of being aware that there had been a knock at the door.

The young girl stretched out her arm to ring for the lady's maid: she no doubt suddenly recollected that she had gone out, and, rising, she went slowly and noiselessly to the door.

There was another knock.

“Who is there?” asked Violette.

“I; your friend.”

“My friend?”

“Yes; the Countess. I come with M. Christian's consent and am the bearer of a note from him.”

“Oh, then,” said Violette, who knew the voice and recollected our conversation; “you are welcome.” Upon which she opened the door.

The Countess came in and carefully closed the door.

“Are you alone?” she asked.

“Quite alone.”

“And your maid?”

“She is at the dressmaker's.”

“Ah! so much the better; because as I made sure of finding you here, and wishing to spend a few moments with you, I sent away my carriage. I shall take a cab when I leave you. Will you grant me an hour or two in your company?”

“Yes; with the greatest pleasure.”

“Are you pleased to see me?”

“Much pleased.”

“You little ungrateful one!”

Meanwhile the Countess took off her veil, bonnet and cloak and appeared in a long dress of black satin, buttoned all the way up with rose coloured buttons. She wore earrings of the same kind of coral.

“I ungrateful?” said Violette. “Why do you call me ungrateful?”

“Why? You went and entrusted yourself to a young man, instead of having recourse to me.”

“I did not know your name, nor your address or number. Don't you recollect that you were to come today to see me at: two o'clock at the milliner's shop?”

“I did go there, but the bird had flown. It is true that you did not lose by changing your cage. I congratulate you on the one you occupy now.”

“Do you think this one pretty?” asked Violette.

“Delightful! When a painter sets himself to decorating an apartment, he does it with such taste!” Then approaching Violette, she said: “Now, dear little one, I have not even kissed you.”

She took her head with both hands and kissed her lips passionately. Violette instinctively drew back to avoid the kiss, but the Countess kept hold of her.

“Do look now,” she said, beginning to thee and thou her; “how your charming head is set off by the black satin dress.” And she led her to the mirror placed between the two windows. The beautiful fair locks of the Countess fell over Violette's face and mingled with her black hair.

“A! I should have liked to be fair-haired,” said Violette.

“Why so?”

“Because I think fair-haired women are much prettier than dark ones.”

“Do you really speak the truth, my jewel?”

“Oh yes!” said Violette, looking at the Countess with more curiosity than desire.

“As for me, I am only half a blonde,” said the Countess.

“How is that?”

“My eyes and eyebrows are black.”

“But they are very pretty!” said Violette innocently.

“Then you think that I am very handsome?”

“Exceedingly handsome!”

“You little flatterer!” said the Countess, putting her arm round Violette's waist and drawing her on her lap.

“But I shall fatigue you.”

“Never! How warm it is here, little one.”

“But you are buttoned up as if it were winter.”

“You are right, I can hardly breathe. If I were certain nobody would come, I should take off my corset.”

“Have no fear. Nobody will come.”

“There,” said the Countess; and in a moment she unbuttoned her dress and took off her corset, keeping on only a long cambric undergown and her satin dress, which she partly buttoned up again.

“And you, do you not feel too warm in your cashmere dress?”

“Oh, no, see how light it is.”

It was now Violette's turn to undo the bodice of her gown and appear in her pretty cambric chemise and with her naked feet in velvet slippers. The two globes on her breasts showed admirably under the light texture.

“But do look at the little witch,” said the Countess. “She is not fifteen yet, and her bosom is larger than mine!”

With this remark she slipped her hand in the opening of Violette's chemise.

“How marvellous,” she murmured; “and the nipple is rosy, like a blonde's. Ah, little darling; that is quite the counterpart of the contrast between my fair hair and black eyebrows. Let me kiss this little nipple.”

Violette looked about her as if she wished to ask for my leave, though she was not aware of my presence. But the mouth of the Countess was at once glued to her breast, and not only did she kiss the nipple, but she bit it also, gently using her tongue to good purpose the while.

Violette could not refrain from giving expression to the pleasurable sensations which she experienced.

“Ah! see the little imp!” said the Countess. “It is hardly come into the world, and already it seeks pleasures like a grown up woman.”

“It is the other one's turn now, for it would be jealous if I did not kiss it too.” She took the other nipple which she sucked as she had done the first.

“Oh, Madame, what are you doing?” said Violette.

“Why, I caress you, sweet darling. Did you not see from the first day that I was in love with you?”

“Can one woman be in love with another?” asked Violette, with an innocent look that would have tempted a saint, and, a fortiori, the Countess.

“You little silly,” she replied. “That is the only good thing in the world.”

Then in a rage with her dress: “You nasty dress! How uncomfortable it is! I will take it off, shall I not?”

“Do as you please, Madame la Comtesse.”

“Do not call me so respectfully 'madame la comtesse',” she cried, tearing off her dress with such impetuosity that she made the buttons fly.

“But how shall I call you?”

“Call me Odette; that is my nom de guerre.”

And her only garment now being the cambric under-gown, she threw herself back on the lounging chair where Violette was reclining, buttoning up her dressing gown to protect herself from the attacks of the Countess.

“Well, what does this mean, you little rebel?” cried the Countess. “Have you by chance taken it into your head to resist?”

“Resist whom?”

“Me, of course.”

“Why should I resist you? You do not wish to hurt me, I suppose?”

“No, just the reverse,” said the Countess, divesting her of her dressing gown. “No; I wish to give you pleasure, but then you must allow me to do all I please.”

“But then… madame la comtesse?”

“Odette, you mean. Call me Odette, I tell you!”

“But when you are…”

“Thou! not you!”

“Well; when thou art… Oh! I shall never dare to do so.”

“Thou!… Thou! I say,” she repeated. “Are we not good friends?”

“Well, yes. That is to say, I am a poor working girl and you are a great lady.”

“Well! What should that great lady do to be forgiven for being a Countess, you proud little thing? Behold, I am at your knees. Are you satisfied?”

Indeed, the countess went down on her knees before Violette, who sat in a chair, and gently lifted her chemise in order to gaze upon certain secret charms of which she had caught a glimpse when trying on the drawers. Her eager eyes peered into the arch which her two hands formed in the cambric.

“Oh! what lovely treasures!” she murmured. “How well made! What round thighs! What a soft skin! What marble was it that you were carved out of, dear Hebe? In Paros or Carrara? And this little black dot! Come, let me kiss it!”

She imprinted her lips on it.

“What a nice perfume! Why you little coquette, it is Eau de Portugal!”

“That is Christian's favourite scent.”

“Christian? Who's that, I should like to know?”

“Why, he is my lover,” said Violette.

“Your lover!… You have a lover?”

“Yes.”

“And that lover has had you?”

“Well! yes.”

“You are no longer a virgin?”

“No.”

“Since when?”

“Since two days ago.”

“Oh!!…”

The Countess uttered a cry of rage.

“Oh! the little fool!” she went on, “to think she gave her virginity to a man.”

“To whom else could I give it?”

“To me! To me! I would have given you your weight in gold for it. Ah!” said she, in a despairing tone. “I will never forgive you for this.”

And she caught up her stays and dress as if about to dress herself again.

“What did your lover do to you? He hurt you cruelly; dare you say he did not; dare you say he gave you pleasure!”

“Oh yes, he did!” cried Violette.

“That is false!”

“Such pleasure as I never could have imagined.”

“That is false!”

“I thought I should have become mad with happiness.”

“Hold your tongue!”

“What does it matter to you?”

“What! What does it matter to me? Why, it is so much happiness he has robbed me of. I who thought you un-defiled as yet; who wished to initiate you little by little into love's mysteries; I who would have invented for you a new pleasure every day. He polluted you with his coarse caresses! That rough skin, covered with hairs; do you mean to tell me it was pleasant to touch?”

“Ah! Dear Christian has a skin like a woman's!”

“Well, I see I have no chance against him! Good-bye.” And mad with rage she put on her corset.

“Are you going away?” asked Violette.

“What can I do here now? Nothing. You have a lover! Oh, I suspected as much directly I saw the warmth with which you took his part against me.”

She dressed herself rapidly.

“One more fond illusion flown away!” said she. “Ah! how unhappy to wish to uphold the dignity and pride of our sex. I expected so much pleasure with you, you wicked child! I must weep or my heart will break.”

She fell sobbing on a chair. Her tears were so genuine, her grief so intense, that Violette got up without thinking of putting on her dressing gown, and, half naked, went in her turn to kneel before her.

“Come, Madame la Comtesse; do not cry so,” said she.

“What? Madame la Comtesse, again!”

“Come, Odette, you are unjust.”

“What, 'YOU' again?”

“Thou art unjust.”

“How?”

“Could I see that you loved me?”

“You did not see it then, when you called at my house?”

“I suspected nothing. I was so innocent.”

“And you are not innocent now?”

“Not quite as much as I was,” said Violette, laughing.

The Countess wrung her hands in despair.

“She laughs at my grief!” cried she.

“No, I swear I do not. I swear it!” The Countess shook her head.

“Ah! All is over now! I could forgive, but I shall never forget! But I must not be weak. Adieu! You will never see me more! Adieu.”

And the Countess beside herself with grief, like a lover who has just discovered the unfaithfulness of his mistress, opened the door and rushed downstairs.

Violette waited for a moment and listened, thinking she would return; but the angry woman had indeed left for good. Violette closed the door, and turning round, perceived me at the entrance to the dressing room. She uttered a cry of surprise. I burst out laughing, and she threw herself into my arms.

“Ah! how happy I feel now that I was not naughty!” said she.

“Did you find it difficult?”

“Not too much. I must confess, however, that when she kissed my bosom a kind of burning sensation went through my whole frame.”

“So that, now, I should not have to use violence.”

“Oh, no.”

I took her in my arms and seated her in the lounging chair in the same position in which the Countess had placed her.

“You told her it was my favourite scent. Will you let me try it?”

“Ah!” murmured she, after a pause, which was more eloquent than all the speeches in the world. “She told me that you gave me no pleasure!”

“Do you know,” said I, “that the dear Countess wore her war dress? Has she not a nom de guerre? She very actively divested herself of her stays and gown. I thought I should see her in still more simple costume.”

“You would have been glad of that, you naughty boy!”

“I confess that your two bodies side by side would have formed a charming contrast.”

“A thing you never shall see, sir.”

“Who knows?”

“She is gone!”

“Nonsense, she will return.”

“You think she will return at once?”

“No.”

“Did you not see how angry she was?”

“I wager that before tomorrow morning she will write to you.”

“Must I accept the letter if one should come?”

“Yes; provided you let me see it.”

“Oh! of course I shall do nothing without your consent.”

“You promise?”

“I give you my word.”

“Then I leave you free to act.”

At that very moment someone tapped softly at the door, Violette knew at once it was the maid.

My clothes were disarranged, so I ran to the dressing room.

“Open the door,” I said.

The maid held a letter in her hand.

“Miss Violette,” said she, “the negro who came with the lady has just brought this for you.”

“Does he await a reply?”

“No, because he asked me to deliver it to you when you were alone.”

“You know Madame Leonie, that these precautions are quite useless, and that I have nothing to conceal from M. Christian.”

“Quite so, Miss. In any case, here is the letter.”

Violette took it; Leonie left the room and I made my reappearance.

“Well,” I said to her, “you see she did not even wait until tomorrow.”

“You are truly a good prophet,” said Violette, brandishing the letter.

Then she sat on my knee and we began reading the Countess' letter.