About five o'clock in the afternoon, Monsieur de Mardeille returned to Georgette's room, having seen her sitting at the window, alone.

"Well, so your young compatriot has gone?" he said, taking a seat by her side.

"Yes, monsieur, a long while ago; almost as soon as you went."

"That young man seems to be very fond of you."

"Yes; he's a true friend."

"But isn't he your lover?"

"I have told you, monsieur, that I have no lover; and I can add, without lying, that I have never had one."

"I believe you, my dear neighbor, I believe you; although it's a rare thing to find in Paris a girl of twenty—for you are twenty, are you not?"

"And six months, monsieur."

"And six months! that makes it all the more remarkable! A girl who is virtuous and always has been. Oh! that is very pretty! But, after all, I suppose that you do not intend to retain your—heart always?"

"I don't know, monsieur; one cannot tell what may happen."

"Bravo! very well answered!"

And Monsieur de Mardeille moved his chair nearer to Georgette's, and murmured:

"And suppose circumstances should bring you in contact with a man who adores you, whose happiness consists in making you happy,—like myself, for instance,—then would you yield to him?"

"But women are so weak!"

"Ah! fascinating girl, I am the happiest of men! you fill my cup to the brim!"

As he spoke, Monsieur de Mardeille extended his hand toward the little black petticoat; but Georgette quickly moved her chair away and struck him a smart blow on the fingers, saying in a very serious tone:

"Well! monsieur, what sort of manners are these? I have told you before that I did not like that!"

The ex-beau stamped on the floor in a rage, crying:

"Sapristi! mademoiselle, so you propose to make a fool of me to the end! You give me reason to hope that you will cease to be cruel, and then you forbid me the slightest liberty! What does it all mean? Where do we stand? I would like very much to know what to expect."

"I am not making a fool of you, monsieur; but what led you to think that I was about to yield to you already?"

"Already! already is very pretty, on my word! When I have been making love to mademoiselle more than two months! when I have made great sacrifices for her! I am not talking about the dress—that was a trifle; but you seemed to want a diamond brooch, and I sent it to you instantly. That was no trifle, allow me to tell you; and when a woman accepts such presents——"

"She immediately becomes the mistress of the man who gives them; is that it, monsieur?"

"Faith, yes! at least, that's the general rule."

"Well, monsieur, it isn't according to my ideas!"

"In that case, mademoiselle, what are your ideas, or rather your demands? for, really, I don't understand you."

"Look you, Monsieur de Mardeille, do you wish me to explain myself frankly? do you wish me to tell you what I have resolved upon?"

"Oh, yes! pray explain yourself! that will give me great pleasure! Speak! I am impatient to hear you."

"Listen to me, then, monsieur. If I, being touched and flattered by your present of a brooch, should yield to you to-day, as you claim that I ought to do, what would happen, monsieur? This: that when your love, or rather your caprice, was once satisfied—for, with most men of your stamp, this ardent love is only a caprice——"

"Oh! can you believe——"

"Yes, monsieur, yes, I do believe it; indeed, I haven't the least doubt of it; but let me finish, I beg.—Well! if I were weak enough, foolish enough—let us not mince words—to cease to resist, then, in a month, or two months, say three months, if you choose, you would have had enough of your little grisette; she would bore you, and you would cease to see her; more than that, you would avoid her as zealously as you now seek her. So the girl is abandoned by the man to whom she sacrificed everything, whose oaths she believed! And that man, after making her unaccustomed to work by a life of idleness and dissipation, leaves her, in most cases, with no resource against destitution! But even that is not all! If the girl alone were unhappy, that would be much, no doubt, but still she alone would be punished for her fault. It is not always so. Often, too often, a wretched child is born of that passing connection. Then the poor girl, who can hardly support herself by her labor, has no means of supporting her child! Isn't that horrible? Ought not one to shrink in dismay from such a terrible future?"

"Oh! mademoiselle, you are imagining chimeras! You are romancing!"

"No, monsieur, I am not romancing; I am simply stating what is seen, what happens every day! And you yourself, monsieur, who claim that I am inventing chimeras, be frank, if such a thing is possible, and tell me if you never seduced and then abandoned a girl in the situation I have just sketched? Think over your life, your love affairs, your numerous conquests, and tell me, monsieur, if you are quite sure that such a thing never happened to you?"

Monsieur de Mardeille changed color; he rose, with a sullen expression on his face, and paced the floor, muttering:

"Mon Dieu! mademoiselle, my numerous conquests, my adventures, aren't in question here. I can't go over everything that has happened to me; it would take too long. Besides, I don't remember."

"Say, rather, that you don't choose to remember."

"In heaven's name, let us drop this and return to you. According to what you have said, if I understand you, you will not yield to anyone——"

"Until he has placed me in such a position that I need have no fear of poverty, and that I can support and educate my child—if I should have one. Yes, monsieur, that is my firm and irrevocable resolution, and I promise you that I shall not change."

The dandified neighbor made a horrible grimace, and continued to pace the floor, mumbling:

"The devil! the devil! you look ahead, mademoiselle; you take your precautions."

"Is that forbidden, monsieur?"

"No; but it's very uncommon—luckily. For you, love, sentiment, a man's attractions—everything that ordinarily captivates a young girl glides over your heart without stirring it. Sensibility is not your strong point."

"Do you think so? And are you yourself so very sensitive, monsieur?"

"I am—to your charms, most assuredly. But my love does not touch you; you are very cruel to me."

"I am less stupid than other women, that's all!"

"However, mademoiselle, if one must settle a fortune on you in order to obtain your favors, you must understand that everybody can't afford to indulge in such a passion."

"A fortune! Oh! no, monsieur, I am not so ambitious as all that; a fortune is not what I ask, but simply the means to bring up the child that is so often the result of a woman's fault."

"Ah! you have in mind only the result! But suppose there isn't any result?"

"Why, then it will be for the poor girl herself, who will at least be secure against want."

"Ah! it will be for the girl, if it isn't needed for the child! Very good! You think of everything! You would make an excellent cashier for a broker!"

"Why, I should not object to that. As a general rule, men earn more with the pen than women do with the needle."

"That is why women don't look to their needle to satisfy their coquetry."

"They have no choice, since they are forced to it."

"Nobody forces them to be coquettes."

"But you would be very sorry if they were not!"

Monsieur de Mardeille continued to pace the floor, humming between his teeth:

"'When one knows how to love and please, what other boon can one desire?'

No, no! that song isn't appropriate!—

'A bandage covers the eyes of the god that makes men love!'

That is nearer the truth.—

'Come, lady fair, I await thee, I await thee, I await thee!"

Georgette went on with her work, as if he were not there. When he was tired of singing, he went to the shirtmaker's side and said to her abruptly:

"What ought it to cost for a child's porridge?"

Georgette replied, with a smile:

"Seek and ye shall find."

"Ah! now you are quoting the Gospel at me! But Saint Peter was scoffing at us when he said that; for there's one thing that I have constantly sought and have never found. I won't tell you what it is, out of respect for your sex, but any man will guess my meaning. But I return to what I asked you just now. It seems to me that with two or three thousand francs one ought to be able to provide porridge in large quantities and for a long time!"

"Do you expect a child to live on nothing but porridge?"

"That or something like it. A child eats so little!"

"But food isn't the only thing it needs. When it grows up, its education must be attended to, mustn't it? and then, it must be apprenticed and taught a trade. It must know how to earn its living, so that it can help its mother when the time comes."

"Oh! tra la la! there's no reason why you shouldn't go on! Why don't you ask me at once to buy a substitute for him if it's a boy, or to give her a dowry if it's a girl?"

"Why, that would be no more than right!"

"Didn't I tell you, mademoiselle, that you demanded a fortune?"

"No, monsieur, you exaggerate. For it seems to me—yes, let us suppose that there's a boy to be brought up—I am inclined to think that with twelve thousand francs it might be done."

"Twelve thousand francs!"—And Monsieur de Mardeille jumped so high that his head nearly struck the ceiling.—"Twelve thousand francs!" he repeated. "Do you think that that is nothing, mademoiselle?"

"I think that it is no more than is necessary to make a child into a man. Why, by putting that sum in the savings bank at once, one would have a little income, which would keep increasing. Oh! you may be sure, monsieur, that the mother would keep nothing for herself; but she would at least be at ease with respect to her child's future."

"And as she would use none of that little income for herself, she would still have to be supported, I suppose?"

"Oh! no, monsieur! That sum, once given, would be the whole; she would accept nothing more."

The elderly beau began once more to stride back and forth, ejaculating from time to time:

"The world is getting to be a curious place; it's a good school; one learns something every day!—But women are becoming sharper and sharper! We're nothing but children beside them! Twelve thousand francs! Why, not long ago, a man might have had more than a hundred mistresses with that money! I am not speaking for myself, for God knows I never ruined myself for women! I always triumphed without untying my purse strings. I prefer that way; at all events, I was sure that I was loved on my own account. They didn't offer to break the bargain!"

"Do you know, monsieur, that these reflections of yours are not very polite!" said Georgette, annoyed by his soliloquies.

"Why, mademoiselle, it seems to me that I might at least be permitted to complain!"

"No, monsieur, you may not. You criticise my conduct! But if I choose, monsieur, I should have to say but a word to make you blush for yours; to force you to lower your crest before me and ask my pardon for all your impertinence."

Monsieur de Mardeille stared at her and stammered:

"I don't understand a word of what you say, mademoiselle. If you would explain yourself a little more clearly——"

"It doesn't suit me to do so at this moment; but, never fear, you won't lose anything by waiting."

The neighbor took his hat to go, saying to himself:

"I won't lose anything? That's a question. I am very much afraid I shall have nothing to show for my brooch. If I dared, I'd ask her to give it back; but I don't dare, especially as I have an idea that she wouldn't do it. This little vixen holds me in awe; she has such a way of speaking, such a decided tone! What an idiot I have been! This will teach me to make sacrifices for women!"

He turned to Georgette, and with a curt nod to her left the room, infinitely less radiant than he had been in the morning, and muttering between his teeth:

"Twelve thousand francs! a little shirtmaker! What are we coming to? Great God! what are we coming to?"