Chapter 11

ANGÉLIQUE.

"I envy you," said Gaillard as they returned to civilization; "I envy you because you are young, rich, and a Prince. I do not envy you for these things, but rather for the enjoyment they can give you. To be twenty-two, poor, and in love�what can be better than that? You are twenty-two, and in love, and you are so rich that you can allow yourself the luxury of being poor. What a change for you, and how you will taste it all! Poverty falls to the poor; they have it every day, but they do not enjoy it. It is like the old women who sell sugar-plums; they do not eat their own wares. But with you it will be different; you will bring an unsated palate. Your present, contrasted with your past, will be as a naked man standing against a background of old-gold brocade. Extraordinary being to have found out a new pleasure in this jaded age, and that pleasure lying unnoticed before the eyes of all men. Look at that beggar man�are not his clothes the color of withered leaves? I have seen greens in old coats that no painter has ever seized. You would never guess my deep acquaintance with the ways of the poor, but I have been thrown in their way. Toto, I have a girlfriend."

"Better say a dozen."

"I know girls pursue me, but I cast them off. Angélique is not of the common order."

"Who is Angélique, for goodness� sake?"

"She is the only woman I love."

"I have heard you say that a dozen times about a dozen women."

"I was only pretending; in this world one hides one�s pearls and wears one�s glass beads. Angélique is very poor; she is a pompon maker."

"What�s a pompon?"

"A pompon is a thing women wear in their hats�a little fluffy feather, an absurdity, but it supports Angélique. In this world, Toto, some fate ordains that men live on each other�s absurdities. Absurdity is to men as grass to cattle, air to life. Could you place a great cupping-glass over Paris, and, with an air-pump, remove all its absurdity, the place would fall to pieces; ten thousand men would starve; the journals would wither like autumn leaves; Struve, Pelisson, De Brie, and a thousand others would vanish; women would no longer wear pompons in their hats, and poor little Angélique would die from want of folly in others. Angélique has a lame brother who lives at Villers Cotterets; he is a great trial to us�an incessant drain. You often laugh at me for my expenses; the fact is, Toto, I am always being tapped, like a person with the dropsy. The affection between this brother and sister is a poem; I weep my money away over it. Now you are casting in your lot with art, Angélique rises up in my mind, and I hear her say "What will become of me?" I will not hide it from you that you have, through me, been the mainstay of an unfortunate man. Angélique knows it. Well, I want you to leave in my hands a certain provision for these people before you cut yourself off from your resources."

"I�ll give you some money to-morrow; I want you to come and see me started."

"Where shall I call for you?"

"At the Boulevard Haussmann."

"In the morning?"

"Yes, and be sure that you say nothing of all this; I want no one to know what I am doing."

"But your mother?"

"She does not care so long as the American does not know."

"Do not yawn so, Toto."

"I can�t help it; it�s the thought of my mother, and old De Nani, and all the lot. Do you know, some day or another I would have cut my throat if I had not met Célestin; she was like a breath of air�she understands me because she loves me. Oh, I�m so sick of women grinning at me; Célestin is the only woman I have ever seen smile. Mlle. Powers is a nice girl; she means what she says, but she always talks to me as if I were her grandchild, and she calls me Toto. Won�t it be a joke when my mother finds out that I have given old Pelisson a hundred thousand francs! I am fond of Pelisson, he�s the best of the lot; I�d do anything for him."

"Pelisson has his limitations," said Gaillard, and Toto yawned again.