CHAPTER XIX
SUSPICION AND CONFIDENCE
She went to the counting house, and after the chief cashier and hisclerks had eyed her from head to foot, she was handed the order which M.Vulfran had said was to be given to her. She left the factory wonderingwhere she would find Madame Lachaise's shop.
She hoped that it was the woman who had sold her the calico, because asshe knew her already, it would be less embarrassing to ask her advice asto what she should buy, than it would be to ask a perfect stranger. Andso much hung on the choice she would make; her anxiety increased as shethought of her employer's last words: "the choice you make will guide mein acquiring a knowledge of your character."
She did not need this warning to keep her from making extravagantpurchases, but then on the other hand, what she thought would be theright things for herself, would her employer consider suitable? In herfancy she had worn beautiful clothes, and when she was quite a littlegirl she had been very proud to display her pretty things, but ofcourse dresses on this order would not be fitting for her now. Thesimplest that she could find would be better.
Who would have thought that the unexpected present of new clothes couldhave filled her with so much anxiety and embarrassment. She knew thatshe ought to be filled with joy and yet here she was greatly worried andhesitating.
Just near the church she found Mme. Lachaise's shop. It was by far the bestshop in Maraucourt. In the window there was a fine display of materials,ribbons, lingerie, hats, jewels, perfumes, which aroused the envy andtempted the greed of all the frivolous girls throughout the surroundingvillages. It was here where they spent their small earnings, the same astheir fathers and husbands spent theirs at the taverns.
When Perrine saw this display of finery she was still more perplexed andembarrassed. She entered the shop and stood in the middle of the floor,for neither the mistress of the establishment nor the milliners who wereworking behind the counter seemed to think that the ragged little girlrequired any attention. Finally Perrine decided to hold out the envelopecontaining the order that she held in her hand.
"What is it you want, little girl?" demanded Madame Lachaise.
As she still held out the envelope the mistress of the store caughtsight of the words Maraucourt Factories, Vulfran Paindavoine in one ofthe corners. The expression of her face changed at once, her smile wasvery pleasant now.
"What do you wish, Mademoiselle?" she asked, leaving her desk and drawingforward a chair for Perrine. Perrine told her that she wanted a dress,some underlinen, a pair of shoes and a hat.
"We can supply you with all those," said Madame Lachaise, "and withgoods of the very best quality. Would you like to commence with thedress? Yes. Very well then, I will show you some materials."
But it was not materials that Perrine wished to see; she wanted aready-made dress. Something that she could put on at once, or at leastsomething that would be ready for her to wear the next day when she wentout with Monsieur Paindavoine.
"Ah, you are going out with Monsieur Vulfran?" said Madame Lachaisequickly; her curiosity was strung to its highest pitch at thisstatement. She wondered what the all powerful master of Maraucourt couldhave to do with this ragged little girl and she did not hesitate to ask.
But instead of replying to her question Perrine continued to explainthat she wanted to see some black dresses as she was in mourning.
"You want a dress so as to be able to attend a funeral then?"
"No, it is not for a funeral," said Perrine.
"Well, you understand, Mademoiselle, if I know what you require thedress for I shall be able to know what style, material, and price itshould be.
"I want the plainest style," said little Perrine timidly, "and thelightest but best wearing material, and the lowest price."
"Very good, very good," replied Madame Lachaise, "they will show yousomething. Virginie, attend to Mademoiselle."
How her tone had changed! her manner also. With great dignity MadameLachaise went back to her seat at the desk, disdaining to busy herselfwith a customer who had such small desires. She was probably one of theservant's daughters, for whom Monsieur Vulfran was going to buy amourning outfit; but which servant?
However as Virginie brought forward a cashmere dress trimmed withpassementerie and jet, she thought fit to interfere.
"No, no, not that," she said. "That would be beyond the price. Show herthat black challis dress with the little dots. The skirt will be atrifle too long and the waist too large, but it can easily be made tofit her, besides we have nothing else in black."
Here was a reason that dispensed with all others, but even though it wastoo large, Perrine found the skirt and waist that went with it verypretty, and the saleslady assured her that with a little alteration iswould suit her beautifully, and of course she had to believe her.
The choice for the stockings and undergarments was easier because shewanted the least expensive, but when she stated that she only wanted topurchase two pairs of stockings and two chemises, Mlle. Virginie becamejust as disdainful as her employer, and it was as though she wasconferring a favor that she condescended to try some shoes on Perrine,and the black straw hat which completed the wardrobe of this littlesimpleton.
Could anyone believe that a girl would be such an idiot! She had beengiven an order to buy what she wanted and she asked for two pairs ofstockings and two chemises. And when Perrine asked for somehandkerchiefs, which for a long time had been the object of her desires,this new purchase, which was limited to three handkerchiefs, did nothelp to change the shopkeeper's or the saleslady's contempt for her.
"She's nothing at all," they murmured.
"And now shall we send you these things?" asked Mme. Lachaise.
"No, thank you," said Perrine, "I will call this evening and fetch themwhen the alterations are made."
"Well, then, don't come before eight o'clock or after nine," she wastold.
Perrine had a very good reason for not wishing to have the things sentto her. She was not sure where she was going to sleep that night. Herlittle island was not to be thought of. Those who possess nothing candispense with doors and locks, but when one has riches ... for despitethe condescension of the shopkeeper and her assistant, these were richesto Perrine and needed to be guarded. So that night she would have totake a lodging and quite naturally she thought of going to Rosalie'sgrandmother. When she left Madame Lachaise's shop, she went on her wayto Mother Francoise's to see if she could accommodate her and give herwhat she desired; that was a tiny little room that would not cost much.
As she reached the gate she met Rosalie coming out, walking quickly.
"You're going out?" cried Perrine.
"Yes, and you ... so you are free then?"
In a few hurried words they explained.
Rosalie, who was going on an important errand to Picquigny, could notreturn to her grandmother's at once, as she would have liked, so as tomake the best arrangements that she could for Perrine; but as Perrinehad nothing to do for that day, why shouldn't she go with her toPicquigny; and they would come back together; it would be a pleasuretrip then.
They went off gaily, and Rosalie accomplished her errand quickly, thentheir pleasure trip commenced. They walked through the fields, chattingand laughing, picked flowers, then rested in the heat of the day underthe shadows of the great trees. It was not until night that they arrivedback in Maraucourt. Not until Rosalie reached her grandmother's gate didshe realize what time it was.
"What will Aunt Zenobie say?" she said half afraid.
"Oh well...." began Perrine.
"Oh well, I don't care," said Rosalie defiantly, "I've enjoyed myself... and you?"
"Well, if you who have people to talk to every day have enjoyedyourself, how much more have I who never have anybody to talk to," saidPerrine ruefully.
"I've had a lovely time," she sighed.
"Well, then we don't care what anybody says," said Rosalie bravely.
Fortunately, Aunt Zenobie was busy waiting on the boarders, so
thearrangements for the room was made with Mother Francoise, who did notdrive too hard a bargain and that was done quickly and promptly. Fiftyfrancs a month for two meals a day; twelve francs for a little roomdecorated with a little mirror, a window, and a dressing table.
At eight o'clock Perrine dined alone in the general dining room, a tablenapkin on her lap. At eight-thirty she went to Madame Lachaise'sestablishment to fetch her dress and other things which were quite readyfor her. At nine o'clock, in her tiny room, the door of which shelocked, she went to bed, a little worried, a little excited, a littlehesitating, but, in her heart of hearts full of hope.
Now we should see.
What she did see the next morning when she was called into M. Vulfran'soffice after he had given his orders to his principal employes, was sucha severe expression on his face that she was thoroughly disconcerted;although the eyes that turned towards her as she entered his room weredevoid of look, she could not mistake the expression on this face thatshe had studied so much.
Certainly it was not the kind look of a benefactor, but quite thereverse: it was an expression of displeasure and anger that she saw.
What had she done wrong that he should be angry; with her?
She put this question to herself but she could find no reply to it;perhaps she had spent too much at Madame Lachaise's and her employer hadjudged her character from these purchases. And in her selection she hadtried to be so modest and economical. What should she have bought then?or rather what should she not have bought?
But she had no more time to wonder, for her employer was speaking to herin a severe tone:
"Why did you not tell me the truth?" he said.
"In what have I not told the truth?" she asked in a frightened voice.
"In regard to your conduct since you came to this village."
"But I assure you, Monsieur, I have told you the truth."
"You told me that you lodged at Mother Francoise's house. And when youleft there where did you go? I may as well tell you that yesterdayZenobie, that is Francoise's daughter, was asked to give someinformation, some references of you, and she said that you only spentone night in her mother's house, then you disappeared, and no one knewwhat you did from that night until now."
Perrine had listened to the commencement of this cross examination inafright, but as Monsieur Vulfran went on she grew braver.
"There is someone who knows what I did after I left the room I used atMother Francoise's," she said quietly.
"Who?"
"Rosalie, her granddaughter, knows. She will tell you that what I am nowgoing to tell you, sir, is the truth. That is, if you think my doingsare worth knowing about."
"The position that you are to hold in my service demands that I knowwhat you are," said Monsieur Vulfran.
"Well, Monsieur, I will tell you," said little Perrine. "When you knowyou can send for Rosalie and question her without me seeing her, andthen you will have the proof that I have not deceived you."
"Yes, that can be done," he said in a softened voice, "now go on...."
She told her story, dwelling on the horror of that night in thatmiserable room, her disgust, how she was almost suffocated, and how shecrept outside at the break of dawn too sick to stay in that terriblegarret one moment longer.
"Cannot you bear what the other girls could?" asked her employer.
"The others perhaps have not lived in the open air as I have," saidPerrine, her beautiful eyes fixed on her grandfather's face. "I assureyou I am not hard to please. We were so poor that we endured greatmisery. But I could not stay in that room. I should have died, and Idon't think it was wrong of me to try to escape death. I could not liveif I had to sleep there."
"Why! can that room be so unhealthy, so unwholesome as that?" musedMonsieur Vulfran.
"Oh, sir," cried Perrine, "if you could see it you would never permityour work girls to live there, never, never."
"Go on with your story," he said abruptly.
She told him how she had discovered the tiny island and how the idea hadcome to her to take possession of the cabin.
"You were not afraid?" he asked.
"I am not accustomed to being afraid," she said, with a wan little smileflitting across her beautiful face.
"You are speaking of that cabin in the valley there a little to the sideof the road to Saint-Pipoy, on the left, are you not?" asked MonsieurVulfran.
"Yes, Monsieur."
"That belongs to me and my nephews use it. Was it there that you slept?"
"I not only slept there, but I worked there and I ate there, and I evengave a dinner to Rosalie, and she can tell you about it," said littlePerrine eagerly, for now that she had told him her story she wanted him toknow everything. "I did not leave the cabin until you sent for me to go toSaint-Pipoy, and then you told me to stay there so as to be on hand tointerpret for the machinists. And now tonight I have taken a lodging againat Mother Francoise's, but now I can pay for a room all to myself."
"Were you rich then, that you were able to invite a friend to dinner?"asked the blind man.
"If I only dare tell you," said Perrine timidly.
"You can tell me everything," said the blind man.
"I may take up your time just to tell you a story about two littlegirls?" asked little Perrine.
"Now that I cannot use my time as I should like," said the blind mansadly, "it is often very long, very long ... and empty."
A shade passed over her grandfather's face. He had so much; there were menwho envied him--and yet how sad and barren was his life. When he said thathis days were "empty" Perrine's heart went out to him. She also, since thedeath of her father and mother, knew what it was for the days to be longand empty, nothing to fill them but the anxiety, the fatigue, and themisery of the moment. No one to share them with you, none to uphold you, orcheer you. He had not known bodily fatigue, privations and poverty. Butthey are not the only trials to be borne, there are other sorrows in thisworld from which one suffers. And it was those other sorrows that had madehim say those few words in such a sad, sad tone; the memory of which madethis old blind man bend his head while the tears sprang into his sightlesseyes. But no tears fell. Perrine's eyes had not left his face; if she hadseen that her story did not interest him, she would have stopped at once,but she knew that he was not bored. He interrupted her several times andsaid:
"And you did that!"
Then he questioned her, asking her to tell him in detail what she hadomitted for fear of tiring him. He put questions to her which showed thathe wished to have an exact account, not only of her work, but above all toknow what means she had employed to replace all that she had been lacking.
"And that's what you did?" he asked again and again.
When she had finished her story, he placed his hand on her head: "Youare a brave little girl," he said, "and I am pleased to see that one cando something with you. Now go into your office and spend the time as youlike; at three o'clock we will go out."