Part 12 (1/2)
”I did it to make a Croquemitaine of him, papa.”
”I have forbidden you a hundred times to touch any of my things.--And you, mademoiselle, what are you whipping your brother with?”
”Papa, with----”
”With a bunch of quills that was on my desk--very expensive quills, rooster's quills, which I keep to write my circulars with. Who gave you leave to touch anything on my desk? But just come here, Monsieur Theodore. What did you make those ears with?”
”With a paper that was on the floor, papa.”
”On the floor! G.o.d bless me! it is Monsieur Mermillon's letter, in which he tells me in detail what his daughter's dowry will be! You little villain! to make horse's ears with my letters! Some day he will take thousand-franc notes from my desk to make horns with. I will deal with you, young man.”
Giraud started to run after his son, but I stopped him; I heard madame calling in an angry voice:
”Giraud! Giraud! aren't you coming to finish dressing me? Francoise doesn't know how to fasten my dress; that girl is frightfully awkward.”
”There, there it is,” said Giraud; ”she is going to send her back again because she don't fasten her dress quickly enough. It is always the same story. Faith, I don't care, let her fix herself! Just look at my thumbs; I haven't any flesh left round my nails.”
Someone half opened the bedroom door; Madame Giraud stood at the entrance half dressed, and behind her came the maid, who resumed her broom, muttering:
”Ah! what a dog's life! as if I came here to squeeze her waist in!”
At sight of me, Madame Giraud took one step backward, then three forward, and exclaimed:
”Oh! pray excuse my disorderly appearance, Monsieur Blemont, but Monsieur Giraud is a terrible man; he never finishes dressing me! But I can't remain half dressed. I give you my word, monsieur, that this dress is too big for me.”
”And I give you my word, wife, that my thumbs are sore.”
”Bah! you are a tender creature; and I have three calls to make before dinner, and you know that we dine at Madame Dumeillan's, who has a box at the Porte-Saint-Martin.”
”That is so, we dine out. Just imagine, my dear Blemont, that we have so many invitations that we don't know which to accept.”
”They dine early too. Oh dear! how unfortunate I am! I shall never be ready in time.”
Madame Giraud had said enough for me. Delighted by what I had learned, I walked toward her.
”If you will allow me, madame, perhaps I may be more successful than your maid.”
Madame Giraud smiled most graciously at me and instantly turned her back, saying:
”How kind you are, Monsieur Blemont! What, do you really mean that you----?”
”With great pleasure, madame.”
I was not a novice at fastening dresses; I took the belt on each side, and although I hurt my fingers a little, the dress was fastened; and I did it as if it had cost me no effort at all.
”That's the way,” cried Madame Giraud triumphantly; ”that's the way; isn't it, Monsieur Blemont?”
”Yes, madame; it's all right now.”
”There, Monsieur Giraud, you see. When one knows how--and monsieur did not seem to make any effort.”