neck and round her waist and kissed her in all directions. She
began struggling to get free, for she was frightened, and in
smothered tones she stammered:
"Do leave off! He's there! Oh, it's silly of you! And you, Zoe,
are you out of your senses? Take him away and keep him downstairs;
I'll try and come down."
Zoe had to push him in front of her. When Nana was able to rejoin
them in the drawing room downstairs she scolded them both, and Zoe
pursed up her lips and took her departure with a vexed expression,
remarking that she had only been anxious to give Madame a pleasure.
Georges was so glad to see Nana again and gazed at her with such
delight that his fine eyes began filling with tears. The miserable
days were over now; his mother believed him to have grown reasonable
and had allowed him to leave Les Fondettes. Accordingly, the moment
he had reached the terminus, he had got a conveyance in order the
more quickly to come and kiss his sweet darling. He spoke of living
at her sids of his home life, in his wife, in his daughter, in
his love affairs and financial difficulties; she was very sensible,
very fair and right-minded. On one occasion only did she let anger
get the better of her, and that was when he confided to her that
doubtless Daguenet was going to ask for his daughter Estelle in
marriage. When the count began making himself notorious Daguenet
had thought it a wise move to break off with Nana. He had treated
her like a base hussy and had sworn to snatch his future father-in-
law out of the creature's clutches. In return Nana abused her old
Mimi in a charming fashion. He was a renegade who had devoured his
fortune in the company of vile women; he had no moral sense. True,
he did not let them pay him money, but he profited by that of others
and only repaid them at rare intervals with a bouquet or a dinner.
And when the count seemed inclined to find excuses for these
failings she bluntly informed him that Daguenet had enjoyed her
favors, and she added disgusting particulars. Muffat had grown
ashen-pale. There was no question of the young man now. This would
teach him to be lacking in gratitude!
Meanwhile the house had not been entirely furnished, when one
evening after she had lavished the most energetic promises of
fidelity on Muffat Nana kept the Count Xavier de Vandeuvres for the
night. For the last fortnight he had been paying her assiduous
court, visiting her and sending presents of flowers, and now she
gave way not so much out of sudden infatuation as to prove that she
was a free woman. The idea of gain followed later when, the day
after, Vandeuvres helped her to pay a bill which she did not wish to
mention to the other man. From Vandeuvres she would certainly
derive from eight to ten thousand francs a month, and this would
prove very useful as pocket money. In those days he was finishing
the last of his fortune in an access of burning, feverish folly.
His horses and Lucy had devoured three of his farms, and at one gulp
Nana was going to swallow his last chateau, near Amiens. He seemed
in a hurry to sweep everything away, down to the ruins of the old
tower built by a Vandeuvres under Philip Augustus. He was mad for
ruin and thought it a great thing to leave the last golden bezants
of his coat of arms in the grasp of this courtesan, whom the world
of Paris desired. He, too, accepted Nana's conditions, leaving her
entire freedom of action and claiming her caresses only on certain
days. He was not even naively impassioned enough to require her to
make vows. Muffat suspected nothing. As to Vandeuvres, he knew
things would take place for a certainty, but he never made the least
allusion to them and pretended total ignorance, while his lips wore
the subtle smile of the skeptical man of pleasure who does not seek
the impossible, provided he can have his day and that Paris is aware
of it.
From that time forth Nana's house was really properly appointed.
The staff of servants was complete in the stable, in the kitchen and
in my lady's chamber. Zoe organized everything and passed
successfully through the most unforeseen difficulties. The
household moved as easily as the scenery in a theater and was
regulated like a grand administrative concern. Indeed, it worked
with such precision that during the early months there were no jars
and no derangements. Madame, however, pained Zoe extremely with her
imprudent acts, her sudden fits of unwisdom, her mad bravado. Still
the lady's maid grew gradually lenient, for she had noticed that she
made increased profits in seasons of wanton waste when Madame had
committed a folly which must be made up for. It was then that the
presents began raining on her, and she fished up many a louis oe in future, as he used to do down in
the country when he
waited for her, barefooted, in the bedroom at La Mignotte. And as
he told her about himself, he let his fingers creep forward, for he
longed to touch her after that cruel year of separation. Then he
got possession of her hands, felt about the wide sleeves of her
dressing jacket, traveled up as far as her shoulders.
"You still love your baby?" he asked in his child voice.
"Oh, I certainly love him!" answered Nana, briskly getting out of
his clutches. "But you come popping in without warning. You know,
my little man, I'm not my own mistress; you must be good!"
Georges, when he got out of his cab, had been so dizzy with the
feeling that his long desire was at last about to be satisfied that
he had not even noticed what sort of house he was entering. But now
he became conscious of a change in the things around him. He
examined the sumptuous dining room with its lofty decorated ceiling,
its Gobelin hangings, its buffet blazing with plate.
"Yes, yes!" he remarked sadly.
And with that she made him understand that he was never to come in
the mornings but between four and six in the afternoon, if he cared
to. That was her reception time. Then as he looked at her with
suppliant, questioning eyes and craved no boon at all, she, in her
turn, kissed him on the forehead in the most amiable way.
"Be very good," she whispered. "I'll do all I can."
But the truth was that this remark now meant nothing. She thought
Georges very nice and would have liked him as a companion, but as
nothing else. Nevertheless, when he arrived daily at four o'clock
he seemed so wretched that she was often fain to be as compliant as
of old and would hide him in cupboards and constantly allow him to
pick up the crumbs from Beauty's table. He hardly ever left the
house now and became as much one of its inmates as the little dog
Bijou. Together they nestled among Mistress's skirts and enjoyed a
little of her at a time, even when she was with another man, while
doles of sugar and stray caresses not seldom fell to their share in
her hours of loneliness and boredom.
Doubtless Mme Hugon found out that the lad had again returned to
that wicked woman's arms, for she hurried up to Paris and came and
sought aid from her other son, the Lieutenant Philippe, who was then
in garrison at Vincennes. Georges, who was hiding from his elder
brother, was seized with despairing apprehension, for he feared the
latter might adopt violent tactics, and as his tenderness for Nana
was so nervously expansive that he could not keep anything from her,
he soon began talking of nothing but his big brother, a great,
strong fellow, who was capable of all kinds of things.
"You know," he explained, "Mamma won't come to you while she can
send my brother. Oh, she'll certainly send Philippe to fetch me."
The first time he said this Nana was deeply wounded. She said
frigidly:
"Gracious me, I should like to see him come! For all that he's a
lieutenant in the army, Francois will chuck him out in double-quick
time!"
Soon, as the lad kept returning to the subject of his brother, she
ended by taking a certain interest in Philippe, and in a week's time
she knew him from head to foot--knew him as very tall and very
strong and merry and somewhat rough. She learned intimate details,
too, and found out that he had hair on his arms and a birthmark on
his shoulder. So thoroughly did she learn her lesson that one day,
when she was full of the image of the man who was to be turned out
of doors by her orders, she cried out:
"I say, Zizi, your brother's not coming. He's a base deserter!"
The next day, when Georges and Nana were alone together, Francois
came upstairs to ask whether Madame would receive Lieutenant
Philippe Hugon. Georges grew extremely white and murmured:
"I suspected it; Mamma was talking about it this morning."
And he besought the young woman to send down word that she could not
see visitors. But she was already on her feet and seemed all aflame
as she said:
"Why should I not see him? He would think me afraid. Dear me,
we'll have a good laugh! Just leave the gentleman in the drawing
room for a quarter of an hour, Francois; afterward bring him up to
me."
She did not sit down again but began pacing feverishly to and fro
between the fireplace and a Venetian mirror hanging above an Italian
chest. And each time she reached the latter she glanced at the
glass and tried the effect of a smile, while Georges sat nervously
on a sofa, trembling at the thought of the coming scene. As she
walked up and down she kept jerking out such little phrases as:
"It will calm the fellow down if he has to wait a quarter of an
hour. Besides, if he thinks he's calling on a tottie the drawing
room will stun him! Yes, yes, have a good look at everything, my
fine fellow! It isn't imitation, and it'll teach you to respect the
lady who owns it. Respect's what men need to feel! The quarter of
an hour's gone by, eh? No? Only ten minutes? Oh, we've got plenty
of time."
She did not stay where she was, however. At the end of the quarter
of an hour she sent Georges away after making him solemnly promise
not to listen at the door, as such conduct would scarcely look
proper in case the servants saw him. As he went into her bedroom
Zizi ventured in a choking sort of way to remark:
"It's my brother, you know--"
"Don't you fear," she said with much dignity; "if he's polite I'll
be polite."
Francois ushered in Philippe Hugon, who wore morning dress. Georges
began crossing on tiptoe on the other side of the room, for he was
anxious to obey the young woman. But the sound of voices retained
him, and he hesitated in such anguish of mind that his knees gave
way under him. He began imagining that a dread catastrophe would
befall, that blows would be struck, that something abominable would
happen, which would make Nana everlastingly odious to him. And so
he could not withstand the temptation to come back and put his ear
against the door. He heard very ill, for the thick portieres
deadened every sound, but he managed to catch certain words spoken
by Philippe, stern phrases in which such terms as "mere child,"
"family," "honor," were distinctly audible. He was so anxious about
his darling's possible answers that his heart beat violently and
filled his head with a confused, buzzing noise. She was sure to
give vent to a "Dirty blackguard!" or to a "Leave me bloody well
alone! I'm in my own house!" But nothing happened--not a breath
came from her direction. Nana seemed dead in there! Soon even his
brother's voice grew gentler, and he could not make it out at all,
when a strange murmuring sound finally stupefied him. Nana was
sobbing! For a moment or two he was the prey of contending feelings
and knew not whether to run away or to fall upon Philippe. But just
then Zoe came into the room, and he withdrew from the door, ashamed
at being thus surprised.
She began quietly to put some linen away in a cupboard while he
stood mute and motionless, pressing his forehead against a
windowpane. He was tortured by uncertainty. After a short silence
the woman asked:
"It's your brother that's with Madame?"
"Yes," replied the lad in a choking voice.
There was a fresh silence.
"And it makes you anxious, doesn't it, Monsieur Georges?"
"Yes," he rejoined in the same painful, suffering tone.
Zoe was in no hurry. She folded up some lace and said slowly:
"You're wrong; Madame will manage it all."
And then the conversation ended; they said not another word. Still
she did not leave the room. A long quarter of an hour passed, and
she turned round again without seeming to notice the look of
exasperation overspreading the lad's face, which was already white
with the effects of uncertainty and constraint. He was casting
sidelong glances in the direction of the drawing room.
Maybe Nana was still crying. The other must have grown savage and
have dealt her blows. Thus when Zoe finally took her departure he
ran to the door and once more pressed his ear against it. He was
thunderstruck; his head swam, for he heard a brisk outburst of
gaiety, tender, whispering voices and the smothered giggles of a
woman who is being tickled. Besides, almost directly afterward,
Nana conducted Philippe to the head of the stairs, and there was an
exchange of cordial and familiar phrases.
When Georges again ventured into the drawing room the young woman
was standing before the mirror, looking at herself.
"Well?" he asked in utter bewilderment.
"Well, what?" she said without turning round. Then negligently:
"What did you mean? He's very nice, is your brother!"
