Fromont and Risler -- Volume 2

Chorche?-I-have a c

o longer enough for us. Besides, it doesn't look well to see one of the partners always in his carriage and the other on foot. Believe

g in taking the money for such an unheard-of luxury as a carriage; however, he

ake Sidonie

selected at Binder's the coupe which Georges insisted upon giving her, and

t of the Risler Press, an invention destined to revolutionize the wall-paper industry and representing in his eyes his contribution to the partnership assets. When he laid aside his drawings and left his little work-room on the first floor, hi

en as before in her treatment of him. She allowed him to resume his old habits: the pipe at dessert, the little nap aft

in place of the old one, and Madame Dobson, the singing-teacher

d metallic blue eyes. As her husband would not allow her to go on the stage, she gave lessons, and sang in some bourgeois salons. A

llables, she uttered them with so much expression. Oh, expression! That was what Mistress Do

then at the height of its popularity. Sidonie studied it co

que tu t

e j'en pui

that thou'

'st that

Her mischievous eyes, her lips, crimson with fulness of life, were not made for such AEolian-harp sentimentalities. The refrains of Offenbach or Herve, interspersed with unexpected notes, in which one resorts to expressive gestures for aid, to a moti

epinings seemed too long to attract other repinings. Sidonie told her of Georges, of their relations, attempting to palliate her offence by blaming the cruelty of her parents in marrying her by force to a man much older than herself. Madame Dobson at once showed a disposition to assist them; not that the little

h enjoy a temporary vogue, and cause all Paris to go from one end of Paris to the other for a season. In Risler's eyes the tickets came from Madame Dobson; she had as many as she c

of the cost of her costumes, certainly none of the man who paid for them, and would await her return at his table by th

e? Business has its demands. All the great deals are arranged at the club, around the bouillotte table, and a man must go there or suffer the penalty of seeing his business fall off. Claire innocently believed it all. When her husband had gone, she felt sad for a moment. She would have liked so much to keep him with her or

prevailing style in order to produce their full effect, adapted themselves to them so perfectly that you would have said they were invented expressly for her. In a few moments they went away, and Madame Dobson was left alone in the box. They had hired a small suite on the Ave

he establishments of the great dressmakers, whose signs only she had known in her earlier days. For what she sought above all else in this liaison was revenge for the sorrows and humiliations of her youth. Nothing delighted her so much, for example, when returning from an evening drive in the Bois, as a supper at the Cafe Anglai

n Madame Risler went out, about three o'clock, fifty pairs of sharp, envious eyes, lying in ambush at the windows of the polishing-shop, wa

shod feet, in their bronzed boots with ten buttons, told the story of all sorts of clandestine expeditions, of the carpeted stairways they ascended at nigh

aughed sneeringl

at's sure! To think that it ain't three years since she used to start for the shop every morning in an old waterproo

or girl reflected on the caprice of chance in absolutely transforming a woman's existence, and began to dr

had seen Madame Risler several times at their theatre, accompanied by some escort who kept out of sight at the rear of the box. Pere Achille, too, told of

she accosted him boldly on the steps to agree upon a rendezvous for the evening! How many times she had amused herself in making him shudder by looking into his eyes before ev

curtain at her window, to have her conceive a suspicion of what was passing. She needed that in order to be perfectly happy: that her r

zed fixedly through his grating at the drenched soil of the little garden. He was thinking solely of his master, of Monsieur "Chorche," who was drawing a great deal of

worsted again at bouillotte last night, and I do

n only twenty years old, had confessed to his uncle that he owed several thousand francs in gambling debts. The elder man thereupon conceived a violent antipathy for

Eau!' Monsieur Georges has left more than

r began

e Planus-it's at least three month

t a terrible thought took up its abode in his m

, where did he pass his evenings?

y a woman at the b

canton of Berne, a confirmed bachelor, had a terrible dread of women in general and Parisian women in particular. He deemed

ding a great deal of mone

hibited n

e to do, my old Sigis

ave been a fine thing, and no mistake, for him, an ex-draughtsman, to venture to make any comments. The cashier dared say no

Georges in

pay it, M

ie had forgotten to tell him of this latest

barrassment, and added: "Charge it to the account of Fromo

little lamp, he saw Risler crossing the ga

under his breath. "I ha

meaning to the unhappy cashier at that moment. It seemed to him as if all the whirring machinery, the great chimney pouring forth its clouds of smoke, the noise of the w

ant upon the completion of her toilette, went away to the theatre with Madame Dobson, leaving the apartment empty as soon as her long train had swept across the threshold. Candles burning in front of the mirrors, divers little toilette articles scattered about and thrown aside, told of extravagant

d a second establishment!

ld go softly downstairs and ask if Madame were

the same thing up and putting it down again ten times in succession, with the obstinate persistence of mania. Nor was honest Risler a very entertaining companion; but that did not prevent the young woman from welcoming him kindly. She knew all that was said about Sidonie in the factory; and although she did

more lovable among all those old souvenirs. From time to time she would rise to go and look at the child sleeping in the adjoining room, whose soft breathing they could hear in the intervals of silence. Without fully realizing it, Risler felt more comfortable and warmer there than in his own apartment; for on certain days those attractive rooms, where the doors were forever being thrown open for hurried exits or returns,

Risler, watching the calm and lovely face turned toward him, the intelligent, kindly eyes, a