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diff --git a/old/54687-0.txt b/old/54687-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index fa1cbea..0000000 --- a/old/54687-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,17083 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Ladies’ Paradise, by Émile Zola - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Ladies’ Paradise - A Realistic Novel, The Sequel to “Piping Hot!” - -Author: Émile Zola - -Release Date: May 8, 2017 [eBook #54687] -[Most recently updated: August 15, 2021] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: David Widger - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LADIES’ PARADISE *** - - - - -THE LADIES' PARADISE - -(The Sequel To “Piping Hot!”) - -A Realistic Novel - -By Émile Zola - -Translated without Abridgment from the 80th French Edition - -London: Vizetelly And Company - -1886. - - -[Illustration: 0011] - - -[Illustration: 0012] - - -[Illustration: 0014] - - - - -THE LADIES' PARADISE - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -DENISE had walked from the Saint-Lazare railway station, where a -Cherbourg train had landed her and her two brothers, after a night -passed on the hard seat of a third-class carriage. She was leading Pépé -by the hand, and Jean was following her, all three fatigued after the -journey, frightened and lost in this vast Paris, their eyes on every -street name, asking at every corner the way to the Rue de la Michodière, -where their uncle Baudu lived. But on arriving in the Place Gaillon, the -young girl stopped short, astonished. - -“Oh! look there, Jean,” said she; and they stood still, nestling close -to one another, all dressed in black, wearing the old mourning bought -at their father's death. She, rather puny for her twenty years, was -carrying a small parcel; on the other side, her little brother, five -years old, was clinging to her arm; while behind her, the big brother, a -strapping youth of sixteen, was standing empty-handed. - -“Well,” said she, after a pause, “that _is_ a shop!” - -They were at the corner of the Rue de la Michodière and the Rue -Neuve-Saint-Augustin, in front of a draper's shop, which displayed a -wealth of colour in the soft October light. Eight o'clock was striking -at the church of Saint-Roch; not many people were about, only a few -clerks on their way to business, and housewives doing their morning -shopping. Before the door, two shopmen, mounted on a step-ladder, -were hanging up some woollen goods, whilst in a window in the Rue -Neuve-Saint-Augustin another young man, kneeling with his back to the -pavement, was delicately plaiting a piece of blue silk. In the shop, -where there were as yet no customers, there was a buzz as of a swarm of -bees at work. - -“By Jove!” said Jean, “this beats Valognes. Yours wasn't such a fine -shop.” - -Denise shook her head. She had spent two years there, at Cornaille's, -the principal draper's in the town, and this shop, encountered so -suddenly--this, to her, enormous place, made her heart swell, and kept -her excited, interested, and oblivious of everything else. The high -plate-glass door, facing the Place Gaillon, reached the first storey, -amidst a complication of ornaments covered with gilding. Two allegorical -figures, representing two laughing, bare-breasted women, unrolled the -scroll bearing the sign, “The Ladies' Paradise.” The establishment -extended along the Rue de la Michodière and the Rue Neuve-Saint -Augustin, and comprised, beside the corner house, four others--two on -the right and two on the left, bought and fitted up recently. It seemed -to her an endless extension, with its display on the ground floor, and -the plate-glass windows, through which could be seen the whole length of -the counters. Upstairs a young lady, dressed all in silk, was sharpening -a pencil, while two others, beside her, were unfolding some velvet -mantles. - -“The Ladies' Paradise,” read Jean, with the tender laugh of a handsome -youth who had already had an adventure with a woman. “That must draw the -customers--eh?” - -But Denise was absorbed by the display at the principal entrance. There -she saw, in the open street, on the very pavement, a mountain of cheap -goods--bargains, placed there to tempt the passers-by, and attract -attention. Hanging from above were pieces of woollen and cloth goods, -merinoes, cheviots, and tweeds, floating like flags; the neutral, slate, -navy-blue, and olive-green tints being relieved by the large white -price-tickets. Close by, round the doorway, were hanging strips of fur, -narrow bands for dress trimmings, fine Siberian squirrel-skin, spotless -snowy swansdown, rabbit-skin imitation ermine and imitation sable. -Below, on shelves and on tables, amidst a pile of remnants, appeared an -immense quantity of hosiery almost given away; knitted woollen gloves, -neckerchiefs, women's hoods, waistcoats, a winter show in all colours, -striped, dyed, and variegated, with here and there a flaming patch of -red. Denise saw some tartan at nine sous, some strips of American vison -at a franc, and some mittens at five sous. There appeared to be an -immense clearance sale going on; the establishment seemed bursting with -goods, blocking up the pavement with the surplus. - -Uncle Baudu was forgotten. Pépé himself, clinging tightly to his -sister's hand, opened his big eyes in wonder. A vehicle coming -up, forced them to quit the road-way, and they turned up the Rue -Neuve-Saint-Augustin mechanically, following the shop windows and -stopping at each fresh display. At first they were captivated by a -complicated arrangement: above, a number of umbrellas, laid obliquely, -seemed to form a rustic roof; beneath these a quantity of silk -stockings, hung on rods, showed the roundness of the calves, some -covered with rosebuds, others of all colours, black open-worked, red -with embroidered corners, and flesh colour, the silky grain of which -made them look as soft as a fair woman's skin; and at the bottom of -all, a symmetrical array of gloves, with their taper fingers and narrow -palms, and that rigid virgin grace which characterises such feminine -articles before they are worn. But the last window especially attracted -their attention. It was an exhibition of silks, satins, and velvets, -arranged so as to produce, by a skilful artistic arrangement of colours, -the most delicious shades imaginable. At the top were the velvets, -from a deep black to a milky white: lower down, the satins--pink, blue, -fading away into shades of a wondrous delicacy; still lower down were -the silks, of all the colours of the rainbow, pieces set up in the form -of shells, others folded as if round a pretty figure, arranged in a -life-like natural manner by the clever fingers of the window dressers. -Between each motive, between each coloured phrase of the display, ran a -discreet accompaniment, a slight puffy ring of cream-coloured silk. At -each end were piled up enormous bales of the silk of which the house -had made a specialty, the “Paris Paradise” and the “Golden Grain,” two -exceptional articles destined to work a revolution in that branch of -commerce. - -“Oh, that silk at five francs twelve sous!” murmured Denise, astonished -at the “Paris Paradise.” - -Jean began to get tired. He stopped a passer-by. “Which is the Rue de la -Michodière, please, sir?” - -On hearing that it was the first on the right they all turned back, -making the tour of the establishment. But just as she was entering the -street, Denise was attracted by a window in which ladies' dresses were -displayed. At Cornaille's that was her department, but she had -never seen anything like this, and remained rooted to the spot with -admiration. At the back a large sash of Bruges lace, of considerable -value, was spread out like an altar-veil, with its two white wings -extended; there were flounces of Alençon point, grouped in garlands; -then from the top to the bottom fluttered, like a fall of snow, a cloud -of lace of every description--Malines, Honiton, Valenciennes, Brussels, -and Venetian-point. On each side the heavy columns were draped with -cloth, making the background appear still more distant And the dresses -were in this sort of chapel raised to the worship of woman's beauty and -grace. Occupying the centre was a magnificent article, a velvet mantle, -trimmed with silver fox; on one side a silk cape lined with miniver, on -the other a cloth cloak edged with cocks' plumes; and last of all, -opera cloaks in white cashmere and white silk trimmed with swansdown or -chenille. There was something for all tastes, from the opera cloaks at -twenty-nine francs to the velvet mantle marked up at eighteen hundred. -The well-rounded neck and graceful figures of the dummies exaggerated -the slimness of the waist, the absent head being replaced by a large -price-ticket pinned on the neck; whilst the mirrors, cleverly arranged -on each side of the window, reflected and multiplied the forms without -end, peopling the street with these beautiful women for sale, each -bearing a price in big figures in the place of a head. - -“How stunning they are!” murmured Jean, finding no other words to -express his emotion. - -This time he himself had become motionless, his mouth open. All this -female luxury turned him rosy with pleasure. He had a girl's beauty--a -beauty he seemed to have stolen from his sister--a lovely skin, curly -hair, lips and eyes overflowing with tenderness. By his side Denise, in -her astonishment, appeared thinner still, with her rather long face and -large mouth, fading complexion, and light hair. Pépé, also fair, in the -way of most children, clung closer to her, as if wanting to be caressed, -troubled and delighted at the sight of the beautiful ladies in the -window. They looked so strange, so charming, on the pavement, those -three fair ones, poorly dressed in black--the sad-looking young girl -between the pretty child and the handsome youth--that the passers-by -looked back smilingly. - -For several minutes a stout man with grey hair and a large yellow -face, standing at a shop-door on the other side of the street, had -been looking at them. He was standing there with bloodshot eyes and -contracted mouth, beside himself with rage at the display made by The -Ladies' Paradise, when the sight of the young girl and her brothers -completed his exasperation. What were those three simpletons doing -there, gaping in front of the cheap-jack's parade? - -“What about uncle?” asked Denise, suddenly, as if just waking up. - -“We are in the Rue de la Michodière,” said Jean. “He must live somewhere -about here.” - -They raised their heads and looked round. Just in front of them, above -the stout man, they perceived a green sign-board bearing in yellow -letters, discoloured by the rain: “The Old Elbeuf. Cloths, Flannels. -Baudu, late Hauchecorne.” The house, coated with an ancient rusty -white-wash, quite flat and unadorned, amidst the mansions in the Louis -XIV. style which surrounded it, had only three front windows, and these -windows, square, without shutters, were simply ornamented by a handrail -and two iron bars in the form of a cross. But amidst all this nudity, -what struck Denise the most, her eyes full of the light airy windows at -The Ladies' Paradise, was the ground-floor shop, crushed by the ceiling, -surmounted by a very low storey with half-moon windows, of a prison-like -appearance. The wainscoting, of a bottle-green hue, which time had -tinted with ochre and bitumen, encircled, right and left, two deep -windows, black and dusty, in which the heaped-up goods could hardly be -seen. The open door seemed to lead into the darkness and dampness of a -cellar. - -[Illustration: 0021] - -“That's the house,” said Jean. - -“Well, we must go in,” declared Denise. “Come on, Pepé.” - -They appeared, however, somewhat troubled, as if seized with fear. When -their father died, carried off by the same fever which had, a month -previous, killed their mother, their uncle Baudu, in the emotion which -followed this double mourning, had written to Denise, assuring her there -would always be a place for her in his house whenever she would like to -come to Paris. But this was nearly a year ago, and the young girl was -now sorry to have left Valognes in a moment of temper without informing -her uncle. The latter did not know them, never having set foot in -Valognes since the day he left, as a boy, to enter as junior in the -drapery establishment kept by Hauchecorne, whose daughter he afterwards -married. - -“Monsieur Baudu?” asked Denise, deciding at last to speak to the stout -man who was still eyeing them, surprised at their appearance. - -“That's me,” replied he. - -Denise blushed and stammered out: “Oh, I'm so pleased! I am Denise. This -is Jean, and this is Pépé. You see we have come, uncle.” - -Baudu seemed amazed. His big eyes rolled in his yellow face; he spoke -slowly and with difficulty. He was evidently far from thinking of this -family which suddenly dropped down on him. - -“What--what, you here?” repeated he several times. “But you were at -Valognes. Why aren't you at Valognes?” - -With her sweet but rather faltering voice she then explained that since -the death of her father, who had spent everything in his dye-works, she -had acted as a mother to the two children, but the little she earned at -Cornaille's did not suffice to keep the three of them. Jean worked at -a cabinetmaker's, a repairer of old furniture, but didn't earn a sou. -However, he had got to like the business, and had learned to carve -in wood very well. One day, having found a piece of ivory, he amused -himself by carving a head, which a gentleman staying in the town had -seen and admired, and it was this gentleman who had persuaded them to -leave Valognes, promising to find a place in Paris for Jean with an -ivory-carver. - -“So you see, uncle,” continued Denise, “Jean will commence his -apprenticeship at his new master's to-morrow. They ask no premium, and -will board and lodge him. I felt sure Pépé and I could manage very well. -We can't be worse off than we were at Valognes.” - -She said nothing about Jean's love affair, of certain letters written to -the daughter of a nobleman living in the town, of kisses exchanged over -a wall--in fact, quite a scandal which had determined her leaving. And -she was especially anxious to be in Paris, to be able to look after -her brother, feeling quite a mother's tender anxiety for this gay and -handsome youth, whom all the women adored. Uncle Baudu couldn't get over -it, and continued his questions. However, when he heard her speaking of -her brothers in this way he became much kinder. - -“So your father has left you nothing,” said he. “I certainly thought -there was still something left. Ah! how many times did I write advising -him not to take that dye-work! A good-hearted fellow, but no head for -business! And you've been obliged to keep and look after these two -youngsters since?” - -His bilious face had become clearer, his eyes were not so bloodshot as -when he was glaring at The Ladies' Paradise. Suddenly he noticed that he -was blocking up the doorway. - -“Well,” said he, “come in, now you're here. Come in, no use hanging -about gaping at a parcel of rubbish.” - -And after having darted a last look of anger at The Ladies' Paradise, he -made way for the children by entering the shop and calling his wife and -daughter. . - -“Elizabeth, Geneviève, come down; here's company for you!” - -But Denise and the two boys hesitated before the darkness of the shop. -Blinded by the clear light of the street, they could hardly see. Feeling -their way with their feet with an instinctive fear of encountering some -treacherous step, and clinging still closer together from this vague -fear, the child continuing to hold the young girl's skirts, and the big -boy behind, they made their entry with a smiling, anxious grace. -The clear morning light described the dark profile of their mourning -clothes; an oblique ray of sunshine gilded their fair hair. - -“Come in, come in,” repeated Baudu. - -In a few brief sentences he explained the matter to his wife and -daughter. The first was a little woman, eaten up with anaemia, quite -white--white hair, white eyes, white lips. Geneviève, in whom her -mother's degenerateness appeared stronger still, had the debilitated, -colourless appearance of a plant reared in the shade. However, her -magnificent black hair, thick and heavy, marvellously vigorous for such -a weak, poor soil, gave her a sad charm. - -“Come in,” said both the women in their turn; “you are welcome.” - -And they made Denise sit down behind a counter. Pépé immediately jumped -up on his sister's lap, whilst Jean leant against some wood-work beside -her. Looking round the shop the new-comers began to take courage, their -eyes getting used to the obscurity. Now they could see it, with its low -and smoky ceiling, oaken counters bright with use, and old-fashioned -drawers with strong iron fittings. Bales of goods reached to the -beams above; the smell of linen and dyed stuffs--a sharp chemical -smell--seemed intensified by the humidity of the floor. At the further -end two young men and a young woman were putting away pieces of white -flannel. - -“Perhaps this young gentleman would like to take something?” said Madame -Baudu, smiling at Pépé. - -“No, thanks,” replied Denise, “we had a cup of milk in a café opposite -the station.” And as Geneviève looked at the small parcel she had laid -down, she added: “I left our box there too.” - -She blushed, feeling that she ought not to have dropped down on her -friends in this way. Even as she was leaving Valognes, she had been full -of regrets and fears; that was why she had left the box, and given the -children their breakfast. - -“Come, come,” said Baudu suddenly, “let's come to an understanding. -'Tis true I wrote to you, but that's a year ago, and since then -business hasn't been flourishing, I can assure you, my girl.” - -He stopped, choked with an emotion he did not wish to show. Madame Baudu -and Geneviève, with a resigned look, had cast their eyes down. - -“Oh,” continued he, “it's a crisis which will pass, no doubt, but I have -reduced my staff; there are only three here now, and this is not the -moment to engage a fourth. In short, my dear girl, I cannot take you as -I promised.” - -Denise listened, and turned very pale. He dwelt upon the subject, -adding: “It would do no good, either to you or to me. - -“All right, uncle,” replied she with a painful effort, “I'll try and -manage all the same.” - -The Baudus were not bad sort of people. But they complained of never -having had any luck. When their business was flourishing, they had had -to bring up five sons, of whom three had died before attaining the age -of twenty; the fourth had gone wrong, and the fifth had just left for -Mexico, as a captain. Geneviève was the only one left at home. But this -large family had cost a great deal of money, and Baudu had made things -worse by buying a great lumbering country house, at Rambouillet, near -his wife's father's place. Thus, a sharp, sour feeling was springing up -in the honest old tradesman's breast. - -“You might have warned us,” resumed he, gradually getting angry at his -own harshness. “You could have written; I should have told you to stay -at Valognes. When I heard of your father's death I said what is right on -such occasions, but you drop down on us without a word of warning. It's -very awkward.” - -He raised his voice, and that relieved him. His wife and daughter still -kept their eyes on the ground, like submissive persons who would never -think of interfering. However, whilst Jean had turned pale, Denise -had hugged the terrified Pépé to her bosom. She dropped hot tears of -disappointment. - -“All right, uncle,” she said, “we'll go away.” - -At that he stopped, an awkward silence ensued. Then he resumed in a -harsh tone: “I don't mean to turn you out. As you are here you must stay -the night; to-morrow we will see.” - -Then Madame Baudu and Geneviève understood they were free to arrange -matters. There was no need to trouble about Jean, as he was to commence -his apprenticeship the next day. As for Pépé, he would be well looked -after by Madame Gras, an old lady living in the Rue des Orties, who -boarded and lodged young children for forty francs a month. Denise said -she had sufficient to pay for the first month, and as for herself they -could soon find her a situation in the neighbourhood, no doubt. - -“Wasn't Vinçard wanting a saleswoman?” asked Geneviève. - -“Of course!” cried Baudu; “we'll go and see him after lunch. Nothing -like striking the iron while it's hot.” - -Not a customer had been in to interrupt this family discussion; the shop -remained dark and empty. At the other end, the two young men and the -young women were still working, talking in a low hissing tone amongst -themselves. However, three ladies arrived, and Denise was left alone for -a moment. She kissed Pépé with a swelling heart, at the thought of their -approaching separation. The child, affectionate as a kitten, hid his -head without saying a word. When Madame Baudu and Geneviève returned, -they remarked how quiet he was. Denise assured them he never made any -more noise than that, remaining for days together without speaking, -living on kisses and caresses. Until lunch-time the three women sat -and talked about children, housekeeping, life in Paris and life in -the country, in short, vague sentences, like relations feeling rather -awkward through not knowing one another very well. Jean had gone to the -shop-door, and stood there watching the passing crowd and smiling at the -pretty girls. At ten o'clock a servant appeared. As a rule the cloth was -laid for Baudu, Geneviève, and the first-hand. A second lunch was served -at eleven o'clock for Madame Baudu, the other young man, and the young -woman. - -“Come to lunch!” called out the draper, turning towards his niece. . - -And as all sat ready in the narrow dining-room behind the shop, he -called the first-hand who had not come. - -“Colomban!” - -The young man apologised, having wished to finish arranging the -flannels. He was a big, stout fellow of twenty-five, heavy and freckled, -with an honest face, large weak mouth, and cunning eyes. - -“There's a time for everything,” said Baudu, solidly seated before -a piece of cold veal, which he was carving with a master's skill and -prudence, weighing each piece at a glance to within an ounce. - -He served everybody, and even cut up the bread. Denise had placed Pépé -near her to see that he ate properly. But the dark close room made -her feel uncomfortable. She thought it so small, after the large -well-lighted rooms she had been accustomed to in the country. A single -window opened on a small back-yard, which communicated with the street -by a dark alley along the side of the house. And this yard, sodden and -filthy, was like the bottom of a well into which a glimmer of light had -fallen. In the winter they were obliged to keep the gas burning all -day long. When the weather enabled them to do without gas it was duller -still. Denise was several seconds before her eyes got sufficiently used -to the light to distinguish the food on her plate. - -“That young chap has a good appetite,” remarked Baudu, observing that -Jean had finished his veal. “If he works as well as he eats, he'll make -a fine fellow. But you, my girl, you don't eat. And, I say, now we can -talk a bit, tell us why you didn't get married at Valognes?” - -Denise almost dropped the glass she had in her hand. “Oh! uncle--get -married! How can you think of it? And the little ones!” - -She was forced to laugh, it seemed to her such a strange idea. Besides, -what man would care to have her--a girl without a sou, no fatter than -a lath, and not at all pretty? No, no, she would never marry, she had -quite enough children with her two brothers. - -“You are wrong,” said her uncle; “a woman always needs a man. If you had -found an honest young fellow, you wouldn't have dropped on to the Paris -pavement, you and your brothers, like a family of gipsies.” - -He stopped, to divide with a parsimony full of justice, a dish of bacon -and potatoes which the servant brought in. Then, pointing to Geneviève -and Colomban with his spoon, he added: “Those two will be married next -spring, if we have a good winter season.” - -Such was the patriarchal custom of the house. The founder, Aristide -Finet, had given his daughter, Désirée to his firsthand, Hauchecorne; -he, Baudu, who had arrived in the Rue de la Michodière with seven francs -in his pocket, had married old Hauchecorne's daughter, Elizabeth; and -he intended, in his turn, to hand over Geneviève and the business to -Colomban as soon as trade should improve. If he thus delayed a marriage, -decided on for three years past, it was by a scruple, an obstinate -probity. He had received the business in a prosperous state, and did -not wish to pass it on to his son-in-law less patronised or in a worse -position than when he took it. Baudu continued, introducing Colomban, -who came from Rambouillet, the same place as Madame Baudu's father; in -fact they were distant cousins. A hard-working fellow, who for ten years -had slaved in the shop, fairly earning his promotions! Besides, he was -far from being a nobody; he had for father that noted toper, Colomban, -a veterinary surgeon, known all over the department of Seine-et-Oise, an -artist in his line, but so fond of the flowing bowl that he was ruining -himself. - -“Thank heaven!” said the draper in conclusion, “if the father drinks and -runs after the women, the son has learnt the value of money here.” - -Whilst he was speaking Denise was examining Geneviève and Colomban. They -sat close together at table, but remained very quiet, without a blush -or a smile. From the day of his entry the young man had counted on -this marriage. He had passed through the various stages: junior, -counter-hand, etc., and had at last gained admittance into the -confidence and pleasures of the family circle, all this patiently, and -leading a clock-work style of life, looking upon this marriage with -Geneviève as an excellent, convenient arrangement. The certainty of -having her prevented him feeling any desire for her. And the young girl -had also got to love him, but with the gravity of her reserved nature, -and a real deep passion of which she herself was not aware, in her -regular, monotonous daily life. - -“Quite right, if they like each other, and can do it,” said Denise, -smiling, considering it her duty to make herself agreeable. - -“Yes, it always finishes like that,” declared Colomban, who had not -spoken a word before, masticating slowly. - -Geneviève, after giving him a long look, said in her turn: “When people -understand each other, the rest comes naturally.” - -Their tenderness had sprung up in this gloomy house of old Paris like a -flower in a cellar. For ten years she had known no one but him, living -by his side, behind the same bales of cloth, amidst the darkness of the -shop; morning and evening they found themselves elbow to elbow in the -narrow dining-room, so damp and dull. They could not have been more -concealed, more utterly lost had they been in the country, in the woods. -But a doubt, a jealous fear, began to suggest itself to the young girl, -that she had given her hand, for ever, amidst this abetting solitude -through sheer emptiness of heart and mental weariness. - -However, Denise, having remarked a growing anxiety in the look Geneviève -cast at Colomban, good-naturedly replied: “Oh! when people are in love -they always understand each other.” - -But Baudu kept a sharp eye on the table. He had distributed slices of -Brie cheese, and, as a treat for the visitors, he called for a second -dessert, a pot of red-currant jam, a liberality which seemed to surprise -Colomban. Pépé, who up to then had been very good, behaved rather -badly at the sight of the jam; whilst Jean, all attention during the -conversation about Geneviève's marriage, was taking stock of the latter, -whom he thought too weak, too pale, comparing her in his own mind to a -little white rabbit with black ears and pink eyes. - -“We've chatted enough, and must now make room for the others,” said the -draper, giving the signal to rise from table. “Just because we've had a -treat is no reason why we should want too much of it.” - -Madame Baudu, the other shopman, and the young lady then came and took -their places at the table. Denise, left alone again, sat near the door -waiting for her uncle to take her to Vinçard's. Pépé was playing at her -feet, whilst Jean had resumed his post of observation at the door. She -sat there for nearly an hour, taking an interest in what was going on -around her. Now and again a few customers came in; a lady, then two -others appeared, the shop retaining its musty odour, its half light, by -which the old-fashioned business, good-natured and simple, seemed to -be weeping at its desertion. But what most interested Denise was The -Ladies' Paradise opposite, the windows of which she could see through -the open door. The sky remained clouded, a sort of humid softness warmed -the air, notwithstanding the season; and in this clear light, in which -there was, as it were, a hazy diffusion of sunshine, the great shop -seemed alive and in full activity. - -Denise began to feel as if she were watching a machine working at full -pressure, communicating its movement even as far as the windows. They -were no longer the cold windows she had seen in the early morning; they -seemed to be warm and vibrating from the activity within. There was a -crowd before them, groups of women pushing and squeezing, devouring the -finery with longing, covetous eyes. And the stuffs became animated in -this passionate atmosphere: the laces fluttered, drooped, and concealed -the depths of the shop with a troubling air of mystery; even the lengths -of cloth, thick and heavy, exhaled a tempting odour, while the cloaks -threw out their folds over the dummies, which assumed a soul, and the -great velvet mantle particularly, expanded, supple and warm, as if on -real fleshly shoulders, with a heaving of the bosom and a trembling of -the hips. But the furnace-like glow which the house exhaled came above -all from the sale, the crush at the counters, that could be felt behind -the walls. There was the continual roaring of the machine at work, the -marshalling of the customers, bewildered amidst the piles of goods, and -finally pushed along to the pay-desk. And all that went on in an orderly -manner, with mechanical regularity, quite a nation of women passing -through the force and logic of this wonderful commercial machine. - -Denise had felt herself being tempted all day. She was bewildered and -attracted by this shop, to her so vast, in which she saw more people in -an hour than she had seen at Cornaille's in six months; and there -was mingled with her desire to enter it a vague sense of danger which -rendered the seduction complete. At the same time her uncle's shop made -her feel ill at ease; she felt an unreasonable disdain, an instinctive -repugnance for this cold, icy place, the home of old-fashioned trading. -All her sensations--her anxious entry, her friends' cold reception, the -dull lunch eaten in a prison-like atmosphere, her waiting amidst the -sleepy solitude of this old house doomed to a speedy decay--all these -sensations reproduced themselves in her mind under the form of a -dumb protestation, a passionate longing for life and light. And -notwithstanding her really tender heart, her eyes turned to The Ladies' -Paradise, as if the saleswoman within her felt the need to go and warm -herself at the glow of this immense business. - -“Plenty of customers over there!” was the remark that escaped her. - -But she regretted her words on seeing the Baudus near her. Madame Baudu, -who had finished her lunch, was standing up, quite white, with her pale -eyes fixed on the monster; every time she caught sight of this place, a -mute, blank despair swelled her heart, and filled her eyes with scalding -tears. As for Geneviève, she was anxiously watching Colomban, who, -not supposing he was being observed, stood in ecstasy, looking at the -handsome young saleswomen in the dress department opposite, the counter -being visible through the first floor window. Baudu, his anger rising, -merely said: - -“All is not gold that glitters. Patience!” - -The thought of his family evidently kept back the flood of rancour which -was rising in his throat A feeling of pride prevented him displaying -his temper before these children, only that morning arrived. At last the -draper made an effort, and tore himself away from the spectacle of the -sale opposite. - -“Well!” resumed he, “we'll go and see Vinçard. These situations are soon -snatched up; it might be too late tomorrow.” - -But before going out he ordered the junior to go to the station and -fetch Denise's box. Madame Baudu, to whom the young girl had confided -Pépé, decided to run over and see Madame Gras, to arrange about the -child. Jean promised his sister not to stir from the shop. - -“It's two minutes' walk,” explained Baudu as they went down the Rue -Gaillon; “Vinçard has a silk business, and still does a fair trade. Of -course he suffers, like every one else, but he's an artful fellow, who -makes both ends meet by his miserly ways. I fancy, though, he wants to -retire, on account of his rheumatics.” - -The shop was in the Rue Neuve-des-Petits-Champs, near, the Passage -Choiseul. It was clean and light, well fitted up in the modern style, -but rather small, and contained but a poor stock. They found Vinçard in -consultation with two gentlemen. - -“Never mind us,” called out the draper; “we are in no hurry; we can -wait.” And returning to the door he whispered to Denise: “The thin -fellow is at The Paradise, second in the silk department, and the stout -man is a silk manufacturer from Lyons.” - -Denise gathered that Vinçard was trying to sell his business to Robineau -of The Paradise. He was giving his word of honour in a frank open way, -with the facility of a man who could take any number of oaths without -the slightest trouble. According to his account, the business was a -golden one; and in the splendour of his rude health he interrupted -himself to whine and complain of those infernal pains which prevented -him stopping and making his fortune. But Robineau, nervous and -tormented, interrupted him impatiently. He knew what a crisis the trade -was passing through, and named a silk warehouse already ruined by The -Paradise. Vinçard, inflamed, raised his voice. - -“No wonder! The fall of that great booby of a Vabre was certain. His -wife spent everything he earned. Besides, we are more than five hundred -yards away, whilst Vabre was almost next door to The Paradise.” - -Gaujean, the silk manufacturer, then chimed in, and their voices fell -again. He accused the big establishments of ruining French manufacture; -three or four laid down the law, reigning like masters over the market; -and he gave it as his opinion that the only way of fighting them was to -favour the small traders; above all, those who dealt in special classes -of goods, to whom the future belonged. Therefore he offered Robineau -plenty of credit. - -“See how you have been treated at The Paradise,” said he. “No notice -taken of your long service. You had the promise of the first-hand's -place long ago, when Bouthemont, an outsider without any claim, came in -and got it at once.” - -Robineau was still smarting under this injustice. However, he hesitated -to start on his own account, explaining that the money came from his -wife, a legacy of sixty thousand francs she had just inherited, and he -was full of scruples regarding this sum, saying that he would rather cut -off his right hand than compromise her money in a doubtful affair. - -“No,” said he, “I haven't made up my mind; give me time to think over -it. We'll have another talk about it.” - -“As you like,” replied Vinçard, concealing his disappointment under a -smiling countenance. “It's to my interest not to sell; and were it not -for my rheumatics----” - -And returning to the middle of the shop, he asked: “What can I do for -you, Monsieur Baudu?” - -The draper, who had been listening with one ear, introduced Denise, told -him as much as he thought necessary of her story, adding that she had -two years' country experience. - -“And as I have heard you are wanting a good saleswoman----” - -Vinçard affected to be awfully sorry. “What an unfortunate thing!” said -he. “I have, indeed, been looking for a saleswoman all the week; but -I've just engaged one--not two hours ago.” - -A silence ensued. Denise seemed disheartened. Robineau, who was -looking at her with interest, probably inspired with pity by her poor -appearance, ventured to say: - -“I know they're wanting a young person at our place, in the ready-made -dress department.” - -Baudu could not help crying out fervently: “At your place? Never!” - -Then he stopped, embarrassed. Denise had turned very red; she would -never dare enter that great place, and yet the idea of being there -filled her with pride. - -“Why not?” asked Robineau, surprised. “It would be a good opening -for the young lady. I advise her to go and see Madame Aurélie, the -first-hand, to-morrow. The worst that can happen to her is not to be -accepted.” - -The draper, to conceal his inward revolt, began to talk vaguely. He knew -Madame Aurélie, or, at least, her husband, Lhomme, the cashier, a stout -man, who had had his right arm severed by an omnibus. Then turning -suddenly to Denise, he added: “However, that's her business. She can do -as she likes.” - -And he went out, after having said “good-day” to Gaujean and Robineau. -Vinçard went with him as far as the door, reiterating his regrets. The -young girl had remained in the middle of the shop, intimidated, desirous -of asking Robineau for further particulars. But not daring to, she in -her turn bowed, and simply said: “Thank you, sir.” - -On the way back Baudu said nothing to his niece, but walked very fast, -forcing her to run to keep up with him, as if carried away by his -reflections. Arrived in the Rue de la Michodière, he was going into his -shop, when a neighbouring shopkeeper, standing at his door, called him. - -Denise stopped and waited. - -“What is it, old Bourras?” asked the draper. - -Bourras was a tall old man, with a prophet's head, bearded and hairy, -and piercing eyes under thick and bushy eyebrows. He kept an umbrella -and walking-stick shop, did repairs, and even carved handles, which had -won for him an artistic celebrity in the neighbourhood. Denise glanced -at the shop-window, where the umbrellas and sticks were arranged in -straight lines. But on raising her eyes she was astonished at the -appearance of the house, a hovel squeezed between The Ladies' Paradise -and a large building of the Louis XIV. style, sprung up one hardly knew -how, in this narrow space, crushed by its two low storeys. Had it not -been for the support on each side it must have fallen; the slates were -old and rotten, and the two-windowed front was cracked and covered -with stains, which ran down in long rusty lines over the worm-eaten -sign-board. - -“You know he's written to my landlord, offering to buy the house?” said -Bourras, looking steadily at the draper with his fiery eyes. - -Baudu became paler still, and bent his shoulders. There was a silence, -during which the two men remained face to face, looking very serious. - -“Must be prepared for anything now,” murmured Baudu at last. - -Bourras then got angry, shaking his hair and flowing board. “Let him buy -the house, he'll have to pay four times the value for it! But I swear -that as long as I live he shall not touch a stone of it. My lease has -twelve years to run yet. We shall see! we shall see!” - -It was a declaration of war. Bourras looked towards The Ladies' -Paradise, which neither had directly named. Baudu shook his head in -silence, and then crossed the street to his shop, his legs almost -failing under him. “Ah! good Lord! ah! good Lord!” he kept repeating. - -Denise, who had heard all, followed her uncle. Madame Baudu had just -come back with Pépé, whom Madame Gras had agreed to receive at anytime. -But Jean had disappeared, and this made his sister anxious. When -he returned with a flushed face, talking in an animated way of the -boulevards, she looked at him with such a sad expression that he blushed -with shame. The box had arrived, and it was arranged that they should -sleep in the attic. - -“How did you get on at Vinçard's?” asked Madame Baudu, suddenly. - -The draper related his useless errand, adding that Denise had heard of -a situation; and, pointing to The Ladies' Paradise with a scornful -gesture, he cried out: “There--in there!” - -The whole family felt wounded at the idea. The first dinner was at five -o'clock. Denise and the two children took their places, with Baudu, -Geneviève, and Colomban. A single jet of gas lighted and warmed the -little dining-room, reeking with the smell of hot food. The meal -passed off in silence, but at dessert Madame Baudu, who could not rest -anywhere, left the shop, and came and sat down near Denise. And then the -storm, kept back all day, broke out, every one feeling a certain relief -in abusing the monster. - -“It's your business, you can do as you like,” repeated Baudu. “We -don't want to influence you. But if you only knew what sort of place it -is----” And he commenced to relate, in broken sentences, the history of -this Octave Mouret. Wonderful luck! A fellow who had come up from the -South of France with the amiable audacity of an adventurer; no sooner -arrived than he commenced to distinguish himself by all sorts of -disgraceful pranks with the ladies; had figured in an affair, which was -still the talk of the neighbourhood; and to crown all, had suddenly and -mysteriously made the conquest of Madame Hédouin, who brought him The -Ladies' Paradise as a marriage portion. - -“Poor Caroline!” interrupted Madame Baudu. “We were distantly related. -If she had lived things would be different. She wouldn't have let them -ruin us like this. And he's the man who killed her. Yes, that very -building! One morning, when visiting the works, she fell down a hole, -and three days after she died. A fine, strong, healthy woman, who -had never known what illness was! There's some of her blood in the -foundation of that house.” - -She pointed to the establishment opposite with her pale and trembling -hand. Denise, listening as to a fairy tale, slightly shuddered; the -sense of fear which had mingled with the temptation she had felt since -the morning, was caused perhaps by the presence of this woman's blood, -which she fancied she could see in the red mortar of the basement. - -“It seems as if it brought him good luck,” added Madame Baudu, without -mentioning Mouret by name. - -But the draper shrugged his shoulders, disdaining these old women's -tales, and resumed his story, explaining the situation commercially. The -Ladies' Paradise was founded in 1822 by two brothers, named Deleuze. -On the death of the elder, his daughter, Caroline, married the son of -a linen manufacturer, Charles Hédouin; and, later on, becoming a widow, -she married Mouret. She thus brought him a half share of the business. -Three months after the marriage, the second brother Deleuze died -childless; so that when Caroline met her death, Mouret became sole heir, -sole proprietor of The Ladies' Paradise. Wonderful luck! - -“A sharp fellow, a dangerous busybody, who will overthrow the whole -neighborhood if allowed to!” continued Baudu. “I fancy that Caroline, -a rather romantic woman, must have been carried away by the gentleman's -extravagant ideas. In short, he persuaded her to buy the house on the -left, then the one on the right; and he himself, on becoming his own -master, bought two others; so that the establishment has continued to -grow--extending in such a way that it now threatens to swallow us all -up!” - -He was addressing Denise, but was really speaking more to himself, -feeling a feverish longing to go over this history which haunted him -continually. At home he was always angry, always violent, clenching -his fists as if longing to go for somebody. Madame Baudu ceased to -interfere, sitting motionless on her chair; Geneviève and Colomban, -their eyes cast down, were picking up and eating the crumbs off the -table, just for the sake of something to do. It was so warm, so stuffy -in the small room, that Pépé was sleeping with his head on the table, -and even Jean's eyes were closing. - -“Wait a bit!” resumed Baudu, seized with a sudden fit of anger, “such -jokers always go to smash! Mouret is hard-pushed just now; I know that -for a fact. He's been forced to spend all his savings on his mania for -extensions and advertisements. Moreover, in order to raise money, he has -induced most of his shop-people to invest all they possess with him. So -that he hasn't a sou to help himself with now; and, unless a miracle be -worked, and he treble his sales, as he hopes to do, you'll see what a -crash there'll be! Ah! I'm not ill-natured, but that day I'll illuminate -my shop-front, on my word of honour!” - -And he went on in a revengeful voice; one would have thought that the -fall of The Ladies' Paradise was to restore the dignity and prestige -of compromised business. Had any one ever seen such a thing? A draper's -shop selling everything! Why not call it a bazaar at once? And the -employees! a nice set they were too--a lot of puppies, who did their -work like porters at a railway station, treating goods and customers -like so many parcels; leaving the shop or getting the sack at a moment's -notice. No affection, no manners, no taste! And all at once he quoted -Colomban as an example of a good tradesman, brought up in the old -school, knowing how long it took to learn all the cunning and tricks of -the trade. The art was not to sell a large quantity, but to sell dear. -Colomban could say how he had been treated, carefully looked after, his -washing and mending done, nursed in illness, considered as one of the -family--loved, in fact! - -“Of course,” repeated Colomban, after every statement the governor made. - -“Ah, you're the last of the old stock,” Baudu ended by declaring. “After -you're gone there'll be none left. You are my sole consolation, for -if they call all this sort of thing business I give up, I would rather -clear out.” - -Geneviève, her head on one side, as if her thick hair were too heavy -for her pale forehead, was watching the smiling shopman; and in her look -there was a suspicion, a wish to see whether Colomban, stricken with -remorse, would not blush at all this praise. But, like a fellow up -to every trick of the old trade, he preserved his quiet manner, his -good-natured and cunning look. However, Baudu still went on, louder than -ever, condemning the people opposite, calling them a pack of savages, -murdering each other in their struggle for existence, destroying -all family ties. And he mentioned some country neighbours, the -Lhommes--mother, father, and son--all employed in the infernal shop, -people without any home life, always out, leading a comfortless, savage -existence, never dining at home except on Sunday, feeding all the week -at restaurants, hotels, anywhere. Certainly his dining-room wasn't -too large nor too well-lighted; but it was part of their home, and the -family had grown up affectionately about the domestic hearth. Whilst -speaking his eyes wandered about the room; and he shuddered at the -unavowed idea that the savages might one day, if they, succeeded -in ruining his trade, turn him out of this house where he was so -comfortable with his wife and child. Notwithstanding the assurance -with which he predicted the utter downfall of his rivals, he was really -terrified, feeling that the neighbourhood was being gradually invaded -and devoured. - -“I don't want to disgust you,” resumed he, trying to calm himself; “if -you think it to your interest to go there, I shall be the first to say, -'go.'” - -“I am sure of that, uncle,” murmured Denise, bewildered, all this -excitement rendering her more and more desirous of entering The Ladies' -Paradise. - -He had put his elbows on the table, and was staring at her so hard -that she felt uneasy. “But look here,” resumed he; “you who know the -business, do you think it right that a simple draper's shop should sell -everything? Formerly, when trade was trade, drapers sold nothing but -drapery. Now they are doing their best to snap up every branch and ruin -their neighbours. The whole neighbourhood complains of it, for every -small tradesman is beginning to suffer terribly. This Mouret is ruining -them. Bédoré and his sister, who keep the hosiery shop in the Rue -Gaillon, have already lost half their customers; Mademoiselle Tatin, at -the under-linen warehouse in the Passage Choiseul, has been obliged to -lower her prices, to be able to sell at all. And the effects of this -scourge, this pest, are felt as far as the Rue Neuve-des-Petits-Champs, -where I hear that Vanpouille Brothers, the furriers, cannot hold -out much longer. Drapers selling fur goods--what a farce! another of -Mouret's ideas!” - -“And gloves,” added Madame Baudu; “isn't it monstrous? He has even -dared to add a glove department! Yesterday, as I was going along the Rue -Neuve-Saint-Augustin, I saw Quinette, the glover, at his door, looking -so downcast that I hadn't the heart to ask him how business was going.” - -“And umbrellas,” resumed Baudu; “that's the climax! Bourras feels sure -that Mouret simply wants to ruin him; for, in short, where's the rhyme -between umbrellas and drapery? But Bourras is firm on his legs, and -won't allow himself to be beggared. We shall see some fun one of these -days.” - -He spoke of other tradesmen, passing the whole neigbour-hood in review. -Now and again he let slip a confession. If Vinçard wanted to sell it was -time for the rest to pack up, for Vinçard was like the rats who leave -a house when it threatens to fall in. Then, immediately after, he -contradicted himself, alluded to an alliance, an understanding between -the small tradesmen in order to fight the colossus. He hesitated an -instant before speaking of himself, his hands shaking, and his mouth -twitching in a nervous manner. At last he made up his mind. - -“As for myself, I can't complain as yet. Of course he has done me harm, -the scoundrel! But up to the present he only keeps ladies' cloths, light -stuffs for dresses and heavier goods for mantles. People still come to -me for men's goods, velvets for shooting suits, cloths for liveries, -without speaking of flannels and serges, of which I defy him to show -as good an assortment. But he thinks to annoy me by planting his cloth -department right in front of my door. You've seen his display, haven't -you? He always places his finest made-up goods there, surrounded by a -framework of various cloths--a cheap-jack parade to tempt the women. -Upon my word, I should be ashamed to use such means! The Old Elbeuf has -been known for nearly a hundred years, and has no need for such at -its door. As long as I live, it shall remain as I took it, with a few -samples on each side, and nothing more!” - -The whole family was affected. Geneviève ventured to make a remark after -a silence: - -“You know, papa, our customers know and like us. We mustn't lose -heart Madame Desforges and Madame de Boves have been to-day, and I am -expecting Madame Marty for some flannel.” - -“I,” declared Colomban, “I took an order from Madame Bourdelais -yesterday. 'Tis true she spoke of an English cheviot marked up -opposite ten sous cheaper than ours, and the same stuff, it appears.” - -“Fancy,” murmured Madame Baudu in her weak voice, “we knew that house -when it was scarcely larger than a handkerchief! Yes, my dear Denise, -when the Deleuzes started it, it had only one window in the Rue -Neuve-Saint-Augustin; and such a tiny one, in which there was barely -room for a couple of pieces of print and two or three pieces of calico. -There was no room to turn round in the shop, it was so small. At that -time The Old Elbeuf, after sixty years' trading, was as you see it now. -Ah! all that has greatly changed!” - -She shook her head; the drama of her whole life was expressed in these -few words. Born in the old house, she loved every part of it, living -only for it and by it; and, formerly proud of this house, the finest, -the best patronised in the neighbourhood, she had had the daily grief of -seeing the rival establishment gradually growing in importance, at first -disdained, then equal to theirs, and finally towering above it, and -threatening all the rest. This was for her a continual, open sore; she -was slowly dying from sheer grief at seeing The Old Elbeuf humiliated, -though still living, as if by the force of impulse, like a machine wound -up. But she felt that the death of the shop would be hers as well, and -that she would never survive the closing of it. - -There was a painful silence. Baudu was softly beating a tattoo with his -fingers on the American cloth on the table. He experienced a sort of -lassitude, almost a regret at having relieved his feelings once more in -this way. In fact, the whole family felt the effects of his despondency, -and could not help ruminating on the bitter story. They never had had -any luck. The children had been educated and started in the world, -fortune was beginning to smile on them, when suddenly this competition -sprang up and ruined their hopes. There was, also, the house at -Rambouillet, that country house to which he had been dreaming of -retiring for the last ten years--a bargain, he thought; but it had -turned out to be an old building always wanting repairs, and which -he had let to people who never paid any rent. His last profits were -swallowed up by the place--the only folly he had committed in his -honest, upright career as a tradesman, obstinately attached to the old -ways. - -“Come, come!” said he, suddenly, “we must make room for the others. -Enough of this useless talk!” - -It was like an awakening. The gas hissed, in the dead and stifling air -of the small room. They all jumped up, breaking the melancholy silence. -However, Pépé was sleeping so soundly that they laid him on some bales -of cloth. Jean had already returned to the street door yawning. - -“In short,” repeated Baudu to his niece, “you can do as you like. We -have explained the matter to you, that's all. You know your own business -best.” - -He looked at her sharply, waiting for a decisive answer. Denise, whom -these stories had inspired with a still greater longing to enter The -Ladies' Paradise, instead of turning her from it, preserved her quiet -gentle demeanour with a Norman obstinacy. She simply replied: “We shall -see, uncle.” - -And she spoke of going to bed early with the children, for they were -all three very tired. But it had only just struck six, so she decided to -stay in the shop a little longer. Night had come on, and she found -the street quite dark, enveloped in a fine close rain, which had been -falling since sunset. She was surprised. A few minutes had sufficed to -fill the street with small pools, a stream of dirty water was running -along the gutters, the pavement was thick with a sticky black mud; -and through the beating rain she saw nothing but a confused stream of -umbrellas, pushing, swinging along in the gloom like great black wings. -She started back at first, feeling very cold, oppressed at heart by the -badly-lighted shop, very dismal at this hour of the day. A damp breeze, -the breath of the old quarter, came in from the street; it seemed that -the rain, streaming from the umbrellas, was running right into the shop, -that the pavement with its mud and its puddles extended all over the -place, putting the finishing touches to the mouldiness of the old shop -front, white with saltpetre. It was quite a vision of old Paris, damp -and uncomfortable, which made her shiver, astonished and heart-broken to -find the great city so cold and so ugly. - -But opposite, the gas-lamps were being lighted all along the frontage of -The Ladies' Paradise. She moved nearer, again attracted and, as it were, -warmed by this wealth of illumination. The machine was still roaring, -active as ever, hissing forth its last clouds of steam; whilst the -salesmen were folding up the stuffs, and the cashiers counting up the -receipts. It was, as seen through the hazy windows, a vague swarming of -lights, a confused factory-like interior. Behind the curtain of falling -rain, this apparition, distant and confused, assumed the appearance of -a giant furnace-house, where the black shadows of the firemen could -be seen passing by the red glare of the furnaces. The displays in the -windows became indistinct also; one could only distinguish the snowy -lace, heightened in its whiteness by the ground glass globes of a row of -gas jets, and against this chapel-like background the ready-made goods -stood out vigorously, the velvet mantle trimmed with silver fox threw -into relief the curved profile of a headless woman running through the -rain to some entertainment in the unknown of the shades of the Paris -night. - -Denise, yielding to the seduction, had gone to the door, heedless of the -raindrops falling on her. At this hour, The Ladies' Paradise, with -its furnace-like brilliancy, entirely conquered her. In the great -metropolis, black and silent, beneath the rain--in this Paris, to which -she was a stranger, it shone out like a lighthouse, and seemed to be of -itself the life and light of the city. She dreamed of her future there, -working hard to bring up the children, and of other things besides--she -hardly knew what--far-off things, the desire and the fear of which made -her tremble. The idea of this woman who had met her death amidst the -foundations came back to her; she felt afraid, she thought she saw the -lights bleeding; then, the whiteness of the lace quieting her, a vague -hope sprang up in her heart, quite a certainty of happiness; whilst the -fine rain, blowing on her, cooled her hands, and calmed her after the -excitement of her journey. - -“It's Bourras,” said a voice behind her. - -She leant forward, and perceived the umbrella-maker, motionless -before the window containing the ingenious display of umbrellas and -walking-sticks. The old man had slipped up there in the dark, to feast -his eyes on the triumphant show; and so great was his grief that he -was unconscious of the rain which was beating on his bare head, and -trickling off his white hair. - -“How stupid he is, he'll make himself ill,” resumed the voice. - -Turning round, Denise found the Baudus behind her again. Though they -thought Bourras so stupid, they were obliged, against their will, to -return to this spectacle which was breaking their hearts. Geneviève, -very pale, had noticed that Colomban was watching the shadows of the -saleswomen pass to and fro on the first floor opposite; and, whilst -Baudu was choking with suppressed rancour, Madame Baudu was silently -weeping. - -“You'll go and see to-morrow, won't you, Denise?” asked the draper, -tormented with uncertainty, but feeling that his niece was conquered -like the rest. - -She hesitated, then gently replied: “Yes, uncle, unless it pains you too -much.” - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -The next morning, at half-past seven, Denise was outside The Ladies' -Paradise, wishing to call there before taking Jean to his new place, -which was a long way off, at the top of the Faubourg du Temple. But, -accustomed to early hours, she had arrived too soon; the shop was hardly -opened, and, afraid of looking ridiculous, full of timidity, she walked -up and down the Place Gaillon for a moment. - -The cold wind that blew had already dried the pavement. Shopmen were -hurriedly turning out of every street in the neighbourhood, their -coat-collars turned up, and their hands in their pockets, taken unawares -by this first chill of winter. Most of them hurried along alone, and -disappeared in the depths of the warehouse, without addressing a word -or look to their colleagues marching along by their side. Others were -walking in twos and threes, talking fast, and taking up the whole of -the pavement; while they all threw away with a similar gesture, their -cigarette or cigar before crossing the threshold. - -Denise noticed that several of these gentlemen took stock of her in -passing. This increased her timidity; she felt quite unable to follow -them, and resolved to wait till they had all entered before going in, -blushing at the idea of being elbowed at the door by all these men. But -the stream continued, so to escape their looks, she took a walk round. -When she returned to the principal entrance, she found a tall young man, -pale and awkward, who appeared to be waiting as she was. - -“I beg your pardon, mademoiselle,” he finished by stammering out, “but -perhaps you belong to the establishment?” - -She was so troubled at hearing a stranger address her in this way that -she did not reply at first. - -“The fact is,” he continued, getting more confused than ever, “I thought -of asking them to engage me, and you might have given me a little -information.” - -He was as timid as she was, and had probably risked speaking to her -because he felt she was trembling like himself. - -“I would with pleasure, sir,” replied she at last “But I'm no better off -than you are; I'm just going to apply myself.” - -“Ah, very good,” said he, quite out of countenance. - -And they blushed violently, their two timidities remaining face to face -for a moment, affected by the similarity of their positions, not daring, -however, to wish each other success openly. Then, as they said nothing -further, and became more and more uncomfortable, they separated -awkwardly, and recommenced their waiting, one on either side, a few -steps apart. - -The shopmen continued to arrive, and Denise could now hear them -joking as they passed, casting side glances towards her. Her confusion -increased at finding herself exposed to this unpleasant ordeal, and she -had decided to take half an hour's walk in the neighbourhood, when the -sight of a young man coming rapidly through the Rue Port-Mahon, detained -her for a moment. He was evidently the manager of a department, she -thought, for the others raised their hats to him. He was tall, with a -clear skin and carefully trimmed beard; and he had eyes the colour of -old gold, of a velvety softness, which he fixed on her for a moment as -he crossed the street. He already entered the shop, indifferent that -she remained motionless, quite upset by his look, filled with a singular -emotion, in which there was more uneasiness than pleasure. She began -to feel really afraid, and, to give herself time to collect her courage -somewhat, she walked slowly down the Rue Gaillon, and then along the Rue -Saint-Roch. - -It was better than a manager of a department, it was Octave Mouret in -person. He had not been to bed, for after having spent the evening at a -stockbroker's, he had gone to supper with a friend and two women, picked -up behind the scenes of a small theatre. His tightly buttoned overcoat -concealed a dress suit and white tie. He quickly ran upstairs, performed -his toilet, changed, and entered his office, quite ready for work, with -beaming eyes, and complexion as fresh as if he had had ten hours' sleep. -The spacious office, furnished in old oak and hung with green rep, had -for sole ornament the portrait of that Madame Hédouin, who was still the -talk of the neighbourhood. Since her death Octave thought of her with -a tender regret, showing himself grateful to the memory of her, who, by -marrying him, had made his fortune. And before commencing to sign the -drafts laid on his desk, he bestowed the contented smile of a happy man -on the portrait Was it not always before her that he returned to work, -after his young widower's escapades, every time he issued from the -alcoves where his craving for amusement attracted him? - -There was a knock, and without waiting, a young man entered, a tall, -thin fellow, with thin lips and a sharp nose, very gentlemanly and -correct in his appearance, with his smooth hair already showing signs of -turning grey. Mouret raised his eyes, then continuing to sign, said: - -“I hope you slept well, Bourdoncle?” - -“Very well, thanks,” replied the young man, walking about as if quite at -home. - -Bourdoncle, the son of a poor farmer near Limoges, had started at The -Ladies' Paradise at the same time as Mouret, when it only occupied the -corner of the Place Gaillon. Very intelligent, very active, it seemed -as if he ought to have easily supplanted his comrade, who was not so -steady, and who had, besides various other faults, a careless manner -and too many intrigues with women; but he lacked that touch of genius -possessed by the impassioned Southerner, and had not his audacity, his -winning grace. Besides, by a wise instinct, he had always, from the -first, bowed before him, obedient and without a struggle; and when -Mouret advised his people to put all their money into the business, -Bourdoncle was one of the first to respond, even investing the proceeds -of an unexpected legacy left him by an aunt; and little by little, -after passing through the various grades, salesman, second, and then -first-hand in the silk department, he had become one of the governor's -most cherished and influential lieutenants, one of the six persons who -assisted Mouret to govern The Ladies' Paradise--something like a privy -council under an absolute king. Each one watched over a department. -Bourdoncle exercised a general control. - -“And you,” resumed he, familiarly, “have you slept well?” When Mouret -replied that he had not been to bed, he shook his head, murmuring: “Bad -habits.” - -“Why?” replied the other, gaily. “I'm not so tired as you are, my dear -fellow. You are half asleep now, you lead too quiet a life. Take a -little amusement, that'll wake you up a bit.” - -This was their constant friendly dispute. Bourdoncle had, at the -commencement, beaten his mistresses, because, said he, they prevented -him sleeping. Now he professed to hate women, having, no doubt, chance -love affairs of which he said nothing, so small was the place they -occupied in his life; he contented himself with encouraging the -extravagance of his lady customers, feeling the greatest disdain for -their frivolity, which led them to ruin themselves in stupid gewgaws. -Mouret, on the contrary, affected to worship them, remained before them -delighted and cajoling, continually carried away by fresh love-affairs; -and this served as an advertisement for his business. One would have -said that he enveloped all the women in the same caress, the better to -bewilder them and keep them at his mercy. - -“I saw Madame Desforges last night,” said he; “she was looking delicious -at the ball.” - -“But it wasn't with her that you went to supper, was it?” asked the -other. - -Mouret protested. “Oh! no, she's very virtuous, my dear fellow. I went -to supper with little Héloïse, of the Folly. Stupid as a donkey, but so -comical!” - -He took another bundle of drafts and went on signing. Bourdoncle -continued to walk about. He went and took a look through the lofty -plate-glass windows, into the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin, then returned, -saying: “You know they'll have their revenge.” - -“Who?” asked Mouret, who had lost the thread of the conversation. - -“Why, the women.” - -At this, Mouret became merrier still, displaying, beneath his sensual, -adorative manner, his really brutal character. With a shrug of the -shoulders he seemed to declare he would throw them all over, like -so many empty sacks, when they had finished helping him to make his -fortune. Bourdoncle obstinately repeated, in his cold way: “They will -have their revenge; there will be one who will avenge all the others. -It's bound to be.” - -“No fear,” cried Mouret, exaggerating his Southern accent. “That one -isn't born yet, my boy. And if she comes, you know----” - -He had raised his penholder, brandishing it and pointing it in the air, -as if he would have liked to stab some invisible heart with a knife. -Bourdoncle resumed walking, bowing as usual before the superiority of -the governor, whose genius, though faulty, had always got the better of -him. He, so clear-headed, logical and passionless, incapable of falling, -had yet to learn the feminine character of success, Paris yielding -herself with a kiss to the boldest. - -A silence reigned, broken only by Mouret's pen. Then, in reply to his -brief questions, Bourdoncle gave him the particulars of the great sale -of winter novelties, which was to commence the following Monday. This -was an important affair, and the house was risking its fortune in it; -for the rumour had some foundation, Mouret was throwing himself into -speculation like a poet, with such ostentation, such a determination to -attain the colossal, that everything seemed bound to give way under -him. It was quite a new style of doing business, an apparent commercial -recklessness which had formerly made Madame Hédouin anxious, and which -even now, notwithstanding the first successes, quite dismayed those -who had capital in the business. They blamed the governor in secret for -going too quick; accused him of having enlarged the establishment to a -dangerous extent, before making sure of a sufficient increase of custom; -above all, they trembled on seeing him put all the capital into one -venture, filling the place with a pile of goods without leaving a sou in -the reserve fund. Thus, for this sale, after the heavy sums paid to the -builders, the whole capital was out, and it was once more a question of -victory or death. And he, in the midst of all this excitement, preserved -a triumphant gaiety, a certainty of gaining millions, like a man -worshipped by the women, and who cannot be betrayed. When Bourdoncle -ventured to express certain fears with reference to the too great -development given to several not very productive departments, he broke -out into a laugh full of confidence, and exclaimed: - -“No fear! my dear fellow, the place is too small!” - -The other appeared dumbfounded, seized with a fear he no longer -attempted to conceal. The house too small! a draper's shop having -nineteen departments, and four hundred and three employees! - -“Of course,” resumed Mouret, “we shall be obliged to enlarge our -premises before another eighteen months. I'm seriously thinking about -the matter. Last night Madame Desforges promised to introduce me to some -one. In short, we'll talk it over when the idea is ripe.” - -And having finished signing his drafts, he got up, and tapped his -lieutenant on the shoulder in a friendly manner, but the latter could -not get over his astonishment. The fright felt by the prudent people -around him amused Mouret. In one of his fits of brusque frankness with -which he sometimes overwhelmed his familiars, he declared he was at -heart a bigger Jew than all the Jews in the world; he took after his -father, whom he resembled physically and morally, a fellow who knew -the value of money; and, if his mother had given him that particle of -nervous fantasy, why it was, perhaps, the principal element of his luck, -for he felt the invincible force of his daring reckless grace. - -“You know very well that we'll stand by you to the last,” Bourdoncle -finished by saying. - -Before going down into the various departments to give their usual look -round, they settled certain other details. They examined the specimen of -a little book of account forms, which Mouret had just invented for use -at the counters. Having remarked that the old-fashioned goods, the dead -stock, went off all the more rapidly when the commission given to the -employees was high, he had based on this observation a new system. In -future he intended to interest his people in the sale of all goods, -giving them a commission on the smallest piece of stuff, the slightest -article sold: a system which had caused a revolution in the drapery -trade, creating between the salespeople a struggle for existence of -which the proprietor reaped the benefit. This struggle formed his -favourite method, the principle of organisation he constantly applied. -He excited his employees' passions, pitted one against the other, -allowed the strongest to swallow up the weakest, fattening on this -interested struggle. The specimen book was approved of; at the top -of the two forms--the one retained, and the one torn off--were the -particulars of the department and the salesman's number; then there were -columns on both for the measurement, description of the articles sold, -and the price; the salesman simply signed the bill before handing it -to the cashier. In this way an easy account was kept, it sufficed -to compare the bills delivered by the cashier's department to the -clearing-house with the salesmen's counterfoils. Every week the latter -would receive their commission, and that without the least possibility -of any error. - -“We sha'n't be robbed so much,” remarked Bourdoncle, with satisfaction. -“A very good idea of yours.” - -“And I thought of something else last night,” explained Mouret. “Yes, -my dear fellow, at the supper. I should like to give the clearing-house -clerks a trifle for every error found in checking. You can understand -that we shall then be certain they won't pass any, for they would rather -invent some.” - -He began to laugh, whilst the other looked at him in admiration. This -new application of the struggle for existence delighted Mouret; he had -a real genius for administrative business, and dreamed of organising the -house, so as to play upon the selfish instincts of his employees, for -the complete and quiet satisfaction of his own appetites. He often said -that to make people do their best, and even to keep them fairly honest, -it was necessary to excite their selfish desires first. - -“Well, let's go downstairs,” resumed Mouret. “We must look after this -sale. The silk arrived yesterday, I believe, and Bouthemont must be -getting it in now.” - -Bourdoncle followed him. The receiving office was on the basement floor, -in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin. There, on a level with the pavement, -was a kind of glazed cage, where the vans discharged the goods. They -were weighed, and then slipped down a rapid slide, its oak and iron -work shining, brightened by the chafing of goods and cases. Everything -entered by this yawning trap; it was a continual swallowing up, a fall -of goods, causing a roaring like that of a cataract. At the approach of -big sale times especially, the slide carried down a perpetual stream of -Lyons silks, English woollens, Flemish linens, Alsatian calicoes, and -Rouen printed goods; and the vans were sometimes obliged to wait their -turn along the street; the bales running down produced the peculiar -noise made by a stone thrown into deep water. - -Mouret stopped a moment before the slide, which was in full activity. -Rows of cases were going down of themselves, falling like rain from -some upper stream. Then some huge bales appeared, toppling over in their -descent like so many pebbles. Mouret looked on, without saying a word. -But this wealth of goods rushing in at the rate of thousands of francs -a minute, made his eyes glisten. He had never before had such a clear, -definite idea of the struggle he was engaged in. Here was this mountain -of goods that he had to launch to the four corners of Paris. He did not -open his mouth, continuing his inspection. - -By the grey light penetrating the air-holes, a squad of men were -receiving the goods, whilst others were undoing and opening the cases -and bales in presence of the managers of different departments. A -dockyard agitation filled this cellar, this basement, where wrought-iron -pillars supported the arches, and the bare walls of which were cemented. - -“Have you got all there, Bouthemont?” asked Mouret, going up to a -broad-shouldered young fellow who was checking the contents of a case. - -“Yes, everything seems all right,” replied he; “but the counting will -take me all the morning.” - -The manager was glancing at the invoice every now and then, standing up -before a large counter on which one of his salesmen was laying, one by -one, the pieces of silk he was taking from the case. Behind them ran -other counters, also encumbered with goods that a small army of shopmen -were examining. It was a general unpacking, an apparent confusion of -stuffs, examined, turned over, and marked, amidst a buzz of voices. - -Bouthemont, a celebrity in the trade, had a round, jolly face, a -coal-black beard, and fine hazel eyes. Born at Montpellier, noisy, too -fond of company, he was not much good for the sales, but for buying he -had not his equal. Sent to Paris by his father, who kept a draper's shop -in his native town, he had absolutely refused to return when the old -fellow thought he ought to know enough to succeed him in his business; -and from that moment a rivalry sprung up between father and son, the -former, all for his little country business, shocked to see a simple -shopman earning three times as much as he did himself, the latter joking -at the old man's routine, chinking his money, and throwing the whole -house into confusion at every flying visit he paid. Like the other -managers, Bouthemont drew, besides his three thousand francs regular -pay, a commission on the sales. Montpellier, surprised and respectful, -whispered that young Bouthemont had made fifteen thousand francs the -year before, and that that was only a beginning--people prophesied to -the exasperated father that this figure would certainly increase. - -Bourdoncle had taken up one of the pieces of silk, and was examining -the grain with the eye of a connoisseur. It was a faille with a blue and -silver selvage, the famous Paris Paradise, with which Mouret hoped to -strike a decisive blow. - -“It is really very good,” observed Bourdoncle. - -“And the effect it produces is better than its real quality,” said -Bouthemont. “Dumonteil is the only one capable of manufacturing such -stuff. Last journey when I fell out with Gaujean, the latter was willing -to set a hundred looms to work on this pattern, but he asked five sous a -yard more.” - -Nearly every month Bouthemont went to Lyons, staying there days -together, living at the best hotels, with orders to treat the -manufacturers with open purse. He enjoyed, moreover, a perfect liberty, -and bought what he liked, provided that he increased the yearly business -of his department in a certain proportion, settled beforehand; and it -was on this proportion that his commission was based. In short, his -position at The Ladies' Paradise, like that of all the managers, was -that of a special tradesman, in a grouping of various businesses, a sort -of vast trading city. - -“So,” resumed he, “it's decided we mark it five francs twelve sous? It's -barely the cost price, you know.” - -“Yes, yes, five francs twelve sous,” said Mouret, quickly; “and if I -were alone, I'd sell it at a loss.” - -The manager laughed heartily. “Oh! I don't mind, that will just suit -me; it will treble the sale, and as my only interest is to attain heavy -receipts----” - -But Bourdoncle remained very grave, biting his lips. He drew his -commission on the total profits, and it did not suit him to lower the -prices. Part of his business was to exercise a control over the prices -fixed upon, to prevent Bouthemont selling at too small a profit in order -to increase the sales. Moreover, his former anxiety reappeared in the -presence of these advertising combinations which he did not understand. -He ventured to show his repugnance by saying: - -“If we sell it at five francs twelve sous, it will be like selling it -at a loss, as we must allow for our expenses, which are considerable. It -would fetch seven francs anywhere.” - -At this Mouret got angry. He struck the silk with his open hand, -crying out excitedly: “I know that, that's why I want to give it to our -customers. Really, my dear fellow, you'll never understand women's ways. -Don't you see they'll be crazy after this silk?” - -“No doubt,” interrupted the other, obstinately, “and the more they buy, -the more we shall lose.” - -“We shall lose a few sous on the stuff, very likely. What matters, if -in return we attract all the women here, and keep them at our mercy, -excited by the sight of our goods, emptying their purses without -thinking? The principal thing, my dear fellow, is to inflame them, and -for that you must have one article which flatters them--which causes -a sensation. Afterwards, you can sell the other articles as dear as -anywhere else, they'll still think yours the cheapest. For instance, our -Golden Grain, that taffeta at seven francs and a half, sold everywhere -at that price, will go down as an extraordinary bargain, and suffice to -make up for the loss on the Paris Paradise. You'll see, you'll see!” - -He became quite eloquent. - -“Don't you understand? In a week's time from to-day I want the Paris -Paradise to make a revolution in the market. It's our master-stroke, -which will save us, and get our name up. Nothing else will be talked of; -the blue and silver selvage will be known from one end of France to the -other. And you'll hear the furious complaints of our competitors. The -small traders will lose another wing by it; they'll be done for, all -those rheumatic old brokers shivering in their cellars!” - -The shopmen checking the goods round about were listening and smiling. -He liked to talk in this way without contradiction. Bourdoncle yielded -once more. However, the case was empty, two men were opening another. - -“It's the manufacturers who are not exactly pleased,” said Bouthemont. -“At Lyons they are all furious with you, they pretend that your cheap -trading is ruining them. You are aware that Gaujean has positively -declared war against me. Yes, he has sworn to give the little houses -longer credit, rather than accept my prices.” - -Mouret shrugged his shoulders. “If Gaujean doesn't look sharp,” replied -he, “Gaujean will be floored. What do they complain of? We pay ready -money and we take all they can make; it's strange if they can't work -cheaper at that rate. Besides, the public gets the benefit, and that's -everything.” - -The shopman was emptying the second case, whilst Bouthemont was checking -the pieces by the invoice. Another shopman, at the end of the counter, -was marking them in plain figures, and the checking finished, the -invoice, signed by the manager, had to be sent to the chief cashier's -office. Mouret continued looking at this work for a moment, at all this -activity round this unpacking of goods which threatened to drown -the basement; then, without adding a word, with the air of a captain -satisfied with his troops, he went away, followed by Bourdoncle. - -They slowly crossed the basement floor. The air-holes placed at -intervals admitted a pale light; while in the dark corners, and along -the narrow corridors, gas was constantly burning. In these corridors -were situated the reserves, large vaults closed with iron railings, -containing the surplus goods of each department. Mouret glanced in -passing at the heating apparatus, to be lighted on the Monday for -the first time, and at the post of firemen guarding a giant gas-meter -enclosed in an iron cage. The kitchen and dining-rooms, old cellars -turned into habitable apartments, were on the left at the corner of the -Place Gaillon. At last he arrived at the delivery department, right at -the other end of the basement floor. The parcels not taken away by the -customers were sent down there, sorted on tables, placed in compartments -each representing a district of Paris; then sent up by a large staircase -opening just opposite The Old Elbeuf, to the vans standing alongside -the pavement. In the mechanical working of The Ladies' Paradise, this -staircase in the Rue de la Michodière disgorged without ceasing the -goods swallowed up by the slide in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin, after -they had passed through the mechanism of the counters up above. - -“Campion,” said Mouret to the delivery manager, a retired sergeant -with a thin face, “why weren't six pairs of sheets, bought by a lady -yesterday about two o'clock, delivered in the evening?” - -“Where does the lady live?” asked the employee. - -“In the Rue de Rivoli, at the corner of the Rue d'Alger--Madame -Desforges.” - -At this early hour the sorting tables were bare, the compartment only -contained a few parcels left over night Whilst Campion was searching -amongst these packets, after having consulted a list, Bourdoncle was -looking at Mouret, thinking that this wonderful fellow knew everything, -thought of everything, even when at the supper-tables of restaurants or -in the alcoves of his mistresses. At last Campion discovered the error; -the cashier's department had given a wrong number, and the parcel had -come back. - -“What is the number of the pay-desk that debited that?” asked Mouret: -“No. 10, you say?” And turning towards his lieutenant, he added: “No. -10; that's Albert, isn't it? We'll just say two words to him.” - -But before starting on their tour round the shops, he wanted to go up to -the postal order department, which occupied several rooms on the second -floor. It was there that all the provincial and foreign orders arrived; -and he went up every morning to see the correspondence. For two years -this correspondence had been increasing daily. At first occupying only -about ten clerks, it now required more than thirty. Some opened the -letters, others read them, seated at both sides of the same table; -others again classed them, giving each one a running number, which was -repeated on a pigeon-hole. Then when the letters had been distributed -to the different departments and the latter had delivered the articles, -these articles were put in the pigeon-holes as they arrived, according -to the running numbers. There was then nothing to do but to check and -tie them up, which was done in a neighbouring room by a squad of workmen -who were nailing and tying up from morning to night. - -Mouret put his usual question: “How many letters this morning, -Levasseur?” - -“Five hundred and thirty-four, sir,” replied the chief clerk. “After the -commencement of Monday's sale, I'm afraid we sha'n't have enough hands. -Yesterday we were driven very hard.” - -Bourdoncle expressed his satisfaction by a nod of the head. He had not -reckoned on five hundred and thirty-four letters on a Tuesday. Round -the table, the clerks continued opening and reading the letters amidst -a noise of rustling paper, whilst the going and coming of the various -articles commenced before the pigeon-holes. It was one of the most -complicated and important departments of the establishment, one in -which there was a continual rush, for, strictly speaking, all the orders -received in the morning ought to be sent off the same evening. - -“You shall have more hands if you want them,” replied Mouret, who -had seen at a glance that the work was well done. “You know that when -there's work to be done we never refuse the men.” - -Up above, under the roof, were the small bedrooms for the saleswomen. -But he went downstairs again and entered the chief cashier's office, -which was near his own. It was a room with a glazed wicket, and -contained an enormous safe, fixed in the wall. Two cashiers there -centralised the receipts which Lhomme, the chief cashier at the -counters, brought in every evening; they also settled the current -expenses, paid the manufacturers, the staff, all the crowd of people who -lived by the house. The cashiers' office communicated with another, full -of green cardboard boxes, where ten clerks checked the invoices. Then -came another office, the clearing-house: six young men bending over -black desks, having behind them quite a collection of registers, were -getting up the discount accounts of the salesmen, by checking the debit -notes. This work, which was new to them, did not get on very well. - -Mouret and Bourdoncle had crossed the cashiers' office and the invoice -room. When they passed through the other office the young men, who -were laughing and joking, started up in surprise. Mouret, without -reprimanding them, explained the system of the little bonus he thought -of giving them for each error discovered in the debit notes; and when he -went out the clerks left off laughing, as if they had been whipped, and -commenced working in earnest, looking up the errors. - -On the ground-floor, occupied by the shops, Mouret went straight to the -pay-desk No. 10, where Albert Lhomme was cleaning his nails, waiting for -customers. People regularly spoke of “the Lhomme dynasty,” since Madame -Aurélie, firsthand at the dress department, after having helped her -husband on to the post of chief cashier, had managed to get a pay -desk for her son, a tall fellow, pale and vicious, who couldn't stop -anywhere, and who caused her an immense deal of anxiety. But on reaching -the young man, Mouret kept in the background, not wishing to render -himself unpopular by performing a policeman's duty, and retaining from -policy and taste his part of amiable god. He nudged Bourdoncle -gently with his elbow--Bourdoncle, the infallible man, that model of -exactitude, whom he generally charged with the work of reprimanding. - -“Monsieur Albert,” said the latter, severely, “you have taken another -address wrong; the parcel has come back. It's unbearable!” - -The cashier, thinking it his duty to defend himself, called as a witness -the messenger who had tied up the packet. This messenger, named Joseph, -also belonged to the Lhomme dynasty, for he was Albert's foster brother, -and owed his place to Madame Aurelie's influence, As the young man -wanted to make him say it was the customer's mistake, Joseph stuttered, -twisted the shaggy beard that ornamented his scarred face, struggling -between his old soldier's conscience and gratitude towards his -protectors. - -“Let Joseph alone,” Bourdoncle exclaimed at last, “and don't say -any more. Ah! it's a lucky thing for you that we are mindful of your -mother's good services!” - -But at this moment Lhomme came running up. From his office near the -door he could see his son's pay-desk, which was in the glove department. -Quite white-haired already, deadened by his sedentary life, he had a -flabby, colourless face, as if worn out by the reflection of the money -he was continually handling. His amputated arm did not at all incommode -him in this work, and it was quite a curiosity to see him verify the -receipts, so rapidly did the notes and coins slip through his left one, -the only one he had. Son of a tax-collector at Chablis, he had come to -Paris as a clerk in the office of a merchant of the Port-aux-Vins. -Then, whilst lodging in the Rue Cuvier, he married the daughter of his -doorkeeper, a small tailor, an Alsatian; and from that day he had bowed -submissively before his wife, whose commercial ability filled him with -respect. She earned more than twelve thousand francs a year in the dress -department, whilst he only drew a fixed salary of five thousand francs. -And the deference he felt for a woman bringing such sums into the home -was extended to the son, who also belonged to her. - -“What's the matter?” murmured he; “is Albert in fault?” - -Then, according to his custom, Mouret appeared on the scene, to play the -part of good-natured prince. When Bourdoncle had made himself feared, -he looked after his own popularity. - -“Nothing of consequence!” murmured he. “My dear Lhomme, your son Albert -is a careless fellow, who should take an example from you.” Then, -changing the subject, showing himself more amiable than ever, he -continued; “And that concert the other day--did you get a good seat?” - -A blush overspread the white cheeks of the old cashier. Music was his -only vice, a vice which he indulged in solitarily, frequenting the -theatres, the concerts, the rehearsals. Notwithstanding the loss of -his arm, he played on the French horn, thanks to an ingenious system of -keys; and as Madame Lhomme detested noise, he wrapped up his instrument -in cloth in the evening, delighted all the same, in the highest -degree, with the strangely dull sounds he drew from it. In the forced -irregularity of their domestic life he had made himself an oasis of -this music--that and the cash-box, he knew of nothing else, beyond the -admiration he felt for his wife. - -“A very good seat,” replied he, with sparkling eyes. “You are really too -kind, sir.” - -Mouret, who enjoyed a personal pleasure in satisfying other people's -passions, sometimes gave Lhomme the tickets forced on him by the lady -patronesses of such entertainments, and he completed the old man's -delight by saying: - -“Ah, Beethoven! ah, Mozart! What music!” And without waiting for -a reply, he went off, rejoining Bourdoncle, already on his tour of -inspection through the departments. - -In the central hall, an inner courtyard with a glass roof formed the -silk department. Both went along the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin, occupied -by the linen department, from one end to the other. Nothing unusual -striking them, they passed on through the crowd of respectful -assistants. They then turned into the cotton and hosiery departments, -where the same order reigned. But in the department devoted to woollens, -occupying the gallery which ran through to the Rue de la Michodière, -Bourdoncle resumed the character of executioner, on observing a young -man, seated on the counter, looking knocked up after a night passed -without sleep. And this young man, named Liénard, son of a rich Angers -draper, bowed his head beneath the reprimand, fearing nothing in his -idle, careless life of pleasure except to be recalled by his father. The -reprimands now began to shower down, and the gallery of the Rue de -la Michodière received the full force of the storm. In the drapery -department a salesman, a fresh hand, who slept in the house, had come -in after eleven o'clock; in the haberdashery department, the second -counterman had just allowed himself to be caught downstairs smoking a -cigarette. But the tempest burst with especial violence in the glove -department, on the head of one of the rare Parisians in the house, -handsome Mignot, as they called him, the illegitimate son of a -music-mistress: his crime was having caused a scandal in the dining-room -by complaining of the food. As there were three tables, one at half-past -nine, one at half-past ten, and another at half-past eleven, he -wished to explain that belonging to the third table, he always had the -leavings, the worst of everything. - -“What! the food not good?” asked Mouret, naïvely, opening his mouth at -last. - -He only gave the head cook, a terrible Auvergnat, a franc and a half a -head per day, out of which this man still managed to make a good -profit; and the food was really execrable. But Bourdoncle shrugged -his shoulders: a cook who had four hundred luncheons and four hundred -dinners to serve, even in three series, had no time to waste on the -refinements of his art. - -“Never mind,” said the governor, good-naturedly, “I wish all our -employees to have good, abundant food. I'll speak to the cook.” And -Mignot's complaint was shelved. - -Then returning to their point of departure, standing up near the door, -amidst the umbrellas and neckties, Mouret and Bourdoncle received the -report of one of the four inspectors, charged with the superintendence -of the establishment. Old Jouve, a retired captain, decorated at -Constantine, a fine-looking man still, with his big sensual nose and -majestic baldness, having drawn their attention to a salesman, who, -in reply to a simple remonstrance on his part, had called him “an old -humbug,” the salesman was immediately discharged. - -However, the shop was still without customers, except a few housewives -of the neighbourhood who were going through the almost deserted -galleries. At the door the time-keeper had just closed his book, and was -making out a separate list of the late comers. The salesmen were taking -possession of their departments, which had been swept and brushed by -the messengers before their arrival. Each young man hung up his hat -and great-coat as he arrived, stifling a yawn, still half asleep. Some -exchanged a few words, gazed about the shop and seemed to be pulling -themselves together ready for another day's work; others were leisurely -removing the green baize with which they had covered the goods over -night, after having folded them up; and the piles of stuffs appeared -symmetrically arranged, the whole shop was in a clean and orderly state, -brilliant in the morning gaiety, waiting for the rush of business to -come and obstruct it, and, as it were, narrow it by the unpacking and -display of linen, cloth, silk, and lace. - -In the bright light of the central hall, two young men were talking in -a low voice at the silk counter. One, short and charming, well set, and -with a pink skin, was endeavouring to blend the colours of some silks -for indoor show. His name was Hutin, his father kept a café at Yvetot, -and he had managed after eighteen months' service to become one of the -principal salesmen, thanks to a natural flexibility of character, -a continual flow of caressing flattery, under which was concealed a -furious rage for business, grasping everything, devouring everybody, -even without hunger, just for the pleasure of the thing. - -“Look here, Favier, I should have struck him if I had been in your -place, honour bright!” said he to the other, a tall bilious fellow with -a dry and yellow skin, who was born at Besançon of a family of weavers, -and who, without the least grace, concealed under a cold exterior a -disquieting will. - -“It does no good to strike people,” murmured he, phlegmatically; “better -wait.” - -They were both speaking of Robineau, who was looking after the shopmen -during the manager's absence downstairs. Hutin was secretly undermining -Robineau, whose place he coveted. He had already, to wound him and make -him leave, introduced Bouthemont to fill the vacancy of manager which -had been promised to Robineau. However, the latter stood firm, and it -was now an hourly battle. Hutin dreamed of setting the whole department -against him, to hound him out by means of ill-will and vexations. At -the same time he went to work craftily, exciting Favier especially, who -stood next to him as salesman, and who appeared to allow himself to be -led on, but with certain brusque reserves, in which could be felt quite -a private campaign carried on in silence. - -“Hush! seventeen!” said he, quickly, to his colleague, to warn him by -this peculiar cry of the approach of Mouret and Bourdoncle. - -These latter were continuing their inspection by traversing the hall. -They stopped to ask Robineau for an explanation with regard to a stock -of velvets of which the boxes were encumbering a table. And as the -latter replied that there wasn't enough room: - -“I told you so, Bourdoncle,” cried out Mouret, smiling; “the place is -already too small. We shall soon have to knock down the walls as far as -the Rue de Choiseul. You'll see what a crush there'll be next Monday.” - -And respecting the coming sale, for which they were preparing at every -counter, he asked Robineau further questions and gave him various -orders. But for several minutes, and without having stopped talking, he -had been watching Hutin, who was contrasting the silks--blue, grey, and -yellow--drawing back to judge of the harmony of the tones. Suddenly he -interfered: - -“But why are you endeavouring to please the eyes? Don't be afraid; blind -them. Look! red, green, yellow.” - -He had taken the pieces, throwing them together, crushing them, -producing an excessively fast effect. Every one allowed the governor to -be the best displayer in Paris, of a regular revolutionary stamp, who -had founded the brutal and colossal school in the science of displaying. -He delighted in a tumbling of stuffs, as if they had fallen from -the crowded shelves by chance, making them glow with the most ardent -colours, lighting each other up by the contrast, declaring that the -customers ought to have sore eyes on going out of the shop. Hutin, who -belonged, on the contrary, to the classic school, in which symmetry and -harmony of colour were cherished, looked at him lighting up this fire of -stuff on a table, not venturing on the least criticism, but biting his -lip with the pout of an artist whose convictions are wounded by such a -debauch. - -“There!” exclaimed Mouret when he had finished. “Leave it; you'll see if -it doesn't fetch the women on Monday.” - -Just as he rejoined Bourdoncle and Robineau, there arrived a woman, who -remained stock-still, suffocated before this show. It was Denise, who, -having waited for nearly an hour in the street, the prey to a violent -attack of timidity, had at last decided to go in. But she was so beside -herself with bashfulness that she mistook the clearest directions; and -the shopmen, of whom she had stutteringly asked for Madame Aurélie, -directed her in vain to the lower staircase; she thanked them, and -turned to the left if they told her to turn to the right; so that for -the last ten minutes she had been wandering about the ground-floor, -going from department to department, amidst the ill-natured curiosity -and ill-tempered indifference of the salesmen. She longed to run away, -and was at the same time retained by a wish to stop and admire. She felt -herself lost, she, so little, in this monster place, in this machine at -rest, trembling for fear she should be caught in the movement with which -the walls already began to shake. And the thought of The Old Elbeuf, -black and narrow, increased the immensity of this vast establishment, -presenting it to her as bathed in light, like a city with its monuments, -squares, and streets, in which it seemed impossible that she should ever -find her way. - -However, she had not dared to risk herself in the silk hall, the -high glass roof, luxurious counters, and cathedral-like air of which -frightened her. Then when she did venture in, to escape the shopmen in -the linen department, who were grinning, she had stumbled right on to -Mouret's display; and, notwithstanding her fright, the woman was aroused -within her, her cheeks suddenly became red, and she forgot everything in -looking at the glow of these silks. - -“Hullo!” said Hutin in Favier's ear; “there's the girl we saw in the -Place Gaillon.” - -Mouret, whilst affecting to listen to Bourdoncle and Robineau, was at -heart flattered by the startled look of this poor girl, as a marchioness -might be by the brutal desire of a passing drayman. But Denise had -raised her eyes, and her confusion increased at the sight of this young -man, whom she took for a manager. She thought he was looking at her -severely. Then not knowing how to get away, quite lost, she applied to -the nearest shopman, who happened to be Favier. - -“Madame Aurélie, please?” - -But Favier, who was disagreeable, contented himself with replying -sharply: “First floor.” - -And Denise, longing to escape the looks of all these men, thanked him, -and had again turned her back to the stairs she ought to have mounted, -when Hutin, yielding naturally to his instinct of gallantry, stopped her -with his most amiable salesman's smile, “No--this way, mademoiselle; if -you don't mind.” - -And he even went with her a little way to the foot of the staircase -on the left-hand side of the hall under the gallery. There he bowed, -smiling tenderly, as he smiled at all women. - -“When you get upstairs turn to the left. The dress department is -straight in front.” - -This caressing politeness affected Denise deeply. It was like a -brotherly hand extended to her; she raised her eyes and looked at Hutin, -and everything in him touched her--his handsome face, his looks which -dissolved her fears, and his voice which seemed to her of a consoling -softness. Her heart swelled with gratitude, and she bestowed her -friendship in the few disjointed words her emotion allowed her to utter. - -“Really, sir, you are too kind. Pray don't trouble to come any further. -Thank you very much.” - -Hutin had already rejoined Favier, to whom he coarsely whispered: “What -a bag of bones--eh?” - -Upstairs the young girl suddenly found herself in the midst of the -dress department. It was a vast room, with high carved oak cupboards all -round, and clear glass windows looking on to the Rue de la Michodière. -Five or six women in silk dresses, looking very coquettish with their -frizzed chignons and crinolines drawn back, were moving about, talking. -One, tall and thin, with a long head, having a runaway-horse appearance, -was leaning against a cupboard, as if already knocked up with fatigue. - -“Madame Aurélie?” inquired Denise. - -The saleswoman looked at her without replying, with an air of disdain -for her shabby dress, then turning to one of her friends, a short girl -with a sickly white skin and an innocent and disgusted appearance, she -asked: “Mademoiselle Vadon, do you know where Madame Aurélie is?” - -The young girl, who was arranging some mantles according to their sizes, -did not even take the trouble to raise her head. “No, Mademoiselle -Prunaire, I don't know at all,” replied she in a mincing tone. - -A silence ensued. Denise stood still, and no one took any further notice -of her. However, after waiting a moment, she ventured to put another -question: “Do you think Madame Aurélie will be back soon?” - -The second-hand, a thin, ugly woman, whom she had not noticed before, -a widow with a projecting jaw-bone and coarse hair, cried out from a -cupboard, where she was checking some tickets: “You'd better wait if -you want to speak to Madame Aurélie herself.” And, addressing another -saleswoman, she added: “Isn't she downstairs?” - -“No, Madame Frédéric, I don't think so,” replied the young lady. “She -said nothing before going, so she can't be far off.” - -Denise, thus instructed, remained standing. There were several chairs -for the customers; but as they had not told her to sit down, she did -not dare to take one, although she felt ready to drop with fatigue. All -these ladies had evidently put her down as an applicant for the vacancy, -and they were taking stock of her, pulling her to pieces ill-naturedly, -with the secret hostility of people at table who do not like to close up -to make room for hungry outsiders. Her confusion increased; she crossed -the room quietly and looked out of the window into the street, just -for something to do. Opposite, The Old Elbeuf, with its rusty front and -lifeless windows, appeared to her so ugly, so miserable, seen thus from -amidst the luxury and life of her present standpoint, that a sort of -remorse filled her already swollen heart with grief. - -“I say,” whispered tall Prunaire to little Vadon, “have you seen her -boots?” - -“And her dress!” murmured the other. - -With her eyes still towards the street, Denise felt herself being -devoured. But she was not angry; she did not think them handsome, -neither the tall one with her carroty chignon falling over her -horse-like neck, nor the little one with her sour milk complexion, which -gave her flat and, as it were, boneless face a flabby appearance. Clara -Primaire, daughter of a clogmaker in the forest of Vilet, debauched by -the footmen at the Château de Mareuil, where the countess engaged her as -needlewoman, had come later on from a shop at Langres, and was avenging -herself in Paris on the men for the kicks with which her father had -regaled her when at home. Marguerite Vadon, born at Grenoble, where -her parents kept a linen shop, had been obliged to come to The Ladies' -Paradise to conceal an accident she had met with--a brat which had made -its appearance one day. She was a well-conducted girl, and intended -to return to Grenoble to take charge of her parents' shop, and marry a -cousin who was waiting for her. - -“Well,” resumed Clara, in a low voice, “there's a girl who won't do much -good here!” - -But they stopped talking. A woman of about forty-five came in. It was -Madame Aurélie, very stout, tightly laced in her black silk dress, the -body of which, strained over her massive shoulders and full bust, shone -like a piece of armour. She had, under very dark folds of hair, great -fixed eyes, a severe mouth, and large and rather drooping cheeks; and in -the majesty of her position as first-hand, her face assumed the bombast -of a puffy mask of Cæsar, “Mademoiselle Vadon,” said she, in an -irritated voice, “you didn't return the pattern of that mantle to the -workroom yesterday, it seems?” - -“There was an alteration to make, madame,” replied the saleswoman, “so -Madame Frédéric kept it.” - -The second-hand then took the pattern out of a cupboard, and the -explanation continued. Every one gave way to Madame Aurélie, when she -thought it necessary to assert her authority. Very vain, even going so -far as not to wish to be called by her real name, Lhomme, which annoyed -her, and to deny her father's humble position, always referring to him -as a regularly established tailor, she was only gracious towards those -young ladies who showed themselves flexible and caressing, bowing down -in admiration before her. Some time previously, whilst she was trying -to establish herself in a shop of her own, her temper had become sour, -continually thwarted by the worst of luck, exasperated to feel herself -born to fortune and to encounter nothing but a series of catastrophes; -and now, even after her success at The Ladies' Paradise, where she -earned twelve thousand francs a year, it seemed that she still nourished -a secret spite against every one, and she was very hard with beginners, -as life had shown itself hard for her at first. - -“That will do!” said she, sharply; “you are no more reasonable than the -others, Madame Frédéric. Let the alteration be made immediately.” - -During this explanation, Denise had ceased to look into the street -She had no doubt this was Madame Aurélie; but, frightened at her -sharp voice, she remained standing, still waiting. The two saleswomen, -delighted to have set their two superiors at variance, had returned to -their work with an air of profound indifference. A few minutes -elapsed, nobody being charitable enough to draw the young girl from her -uncomfortable position. At last, Madame Aurélie herself perceived her, -and astonished to see her standing there without moving, asked her what -she wanted. - -“Madame Aurélie, please.” - -“I am Madame Aurélie.” - -Denise's mouth became dry and parched, and her hands cold; she felt some -such fear as when she was a child and trembled at the thought of being -whipped. She stammered out her request, but was obliged to repeat it to -make herself understood. Madame Aurélie looked at her with her great -fixed eyes, not a line of her imperial mask deigning to relax, “How old -are you?” - -“Twenty, madame.” - -“What, twenty years old? you don't look sixteen!” - -The saleswomen again raised their heads. Denise hastened to add: “Oh, -I'm very strong!” - -Madame Aurélie shrugged her broad shoulders, then coldly declared: -“Well! I don't mind entering your name. We enter the names of all those -who apply. Mademoiselle Prunaire, give me the book.” - -But the book could not be found; Jouve, the inspector had probably got -it. As tall Clara was going to fetch it, Mouret arrived, still followed -by Bourdoncle. They had made the tour of the other departments--the -lace, the shawls, the furs, the furniture, the under-linen, and were -winding up with the dresses. Madame Aurélie left Denise a moment to -speak to them about an order for some cloaks she thought of giving to -one of the large Paris houses; as a rule, she bought direct, and on -her own responsibility; but, for important purchases, she preferred -consulting the chiefs of the house. Bourdoncle then related her son -Albert's latest act of carelessness, which seemed to fill her with -despair. That boy would kill her; his father, although not a man of -talent, was at least well-conducted, careful, and honest. All this -dynasty of Lhommes, of which she was the acknowledged head, very often -caused her a great deal of trouble. However, Mouret, surprised to see -Denise again, bent down to ask Madame Aurélie what the young lady was -doing there; and, when the first-hand replied that she was applying for -a saleswoman's situation, Bourdoncle, with his disdain for women, seemed -suffocated at this pretension. - -“You don't mean it,” murmured he; “it must be a joke, she's too ugly!” - -“The fact is, there's nothing handsome about her,” said Mouret, not -daring to defend her, although still moved by the rapture she had -displayed downstairs before his arrangement of silks. - -But the book having been brought in, Madame Aurélie returned to Denise, -who had certainly not made a favourable impression. She looked very -clean in her thin black woollen dress; the question of shabbiness was -of no importance, as the house furnished a uniform, the regulation silk -dress; but she appeared rather weak and puny, and had a melancholy face. -Without insisting on handsome girls, one liked them to be of agreeable -appearance for the sale rooms. And beneath the gaze of all these ladies -and gentlemen who were studying her, weighing her like farmers would a -horse at a fair, Denise completely lost countenance. - -“Your name?” asked Madame Aurélie, at the end of a counter, pen in hand, -ready to write. - -“Denise Baudu, madame.” - -“Your age?” - -“Twenty years and four months.” And she repeated, risking a glance at -Mouret, at this supposed manager, whom she met everywhere and whose -presence troubled her so: “I don't look like it, but I am really very -strong.” - -They smiled. Bourdoncle showed evident signs of impatience; her remark -fell, moreover, amidst a most discouraging silence. - -“What house have you been in, in Paris?” resumed Madame Aurélie. - -“I've just arrived from Valognes.” - -This was a fresh disaster. As a rule, The Ladies' Paradise only took -saleswomen with a year's experience in one of the small houses in Paris. -Denise thought all was lost; and, had it not been for the children, -had she not been obliged to work for them, she would have closed this -useless interview and left the place. “Where were you at Valognes?” - -“At Cornaille's.” - -“I know him--good house,” remarked Mouret. - -It was very rarely that he interfered in the engagement of the -employees, the manager of each department being responsible for his -staff. But with his delicate appreciation of women, he divined in this -young girl a hidden charm, a wealth of grace, and tenderness of which -she herself was ignorant. The good name enjoyed by the house in which -the candidate had started was of great importance, often deciding the -question in his or her favour. Madame Aurélie continued, in a kinder -tone: “And why did you leave Cornaille's?” - -“For family reasons,” replied Denise, turning scarlet “We have lost -our parents, I have been obliged to follow my brothers. Here is a -certificate.” - -It was excellent Her hopes were reviving, when another question troubled -her. - -“Have you any other references in Paris? Where do you live?” - -“At my uncle's,” murmured she, hesitating about naming him, fearing -they would never take the niece of a competitor. “At my uncle Baudu's, -opposite.” - -At this, Mouret interfered a second time. “What! are you Baudu's niece? -Is it Baudu who sent you here?” - -“Oh! no, sir!” - -And she could not help laughing, the idea appeared to her so singular. -It was a transfiguration; she became quite rosy, and the smile round -her rather large mouth lighted up her whole face. Her grey eyes sparkled -with a tender flame, her cheeks filled with delicious dimples, and even -her light hair seemed to partake of the frank and courageous gaiety that -pervaded her whole being. - -“Why, she's really pretty,” whispered Mouret to Bourdoncle. - -The partner refused to admit it, with a gesture of annoyance. Clara -bit her lips, and Marguerite turned away; but Madame Aurélie seemed won -over, and encouraged Mouret with a nod when he resumed: “Your uncle was -wrong not to bring you; his recommendation sufficed. They say he has a -grudge against us. We are people of more liberal minds, and if he can't -find employment for his niece in his house, why we will show him that -she has only to knock at our door to be received. Just tell him I still -like him very much, and that he must blame, not me, but the new style -of business. Tell him, too, that he will ruin himself if he insists on -keeping to his ridiculous old-fashioned ways.” - -Denise turned quite white again. It was Mouret; no one had mentioned his -name, but he had revealed himself, and now she guessed who it was, she -understood why this young man had caused her such emotion in the street, -in the silk department, and again now. This emotion, which she could not -analyse, pressed on her heart more and more, like a too-heavy weight. -All the stories related by her uncle came back to her, increasing -Mouret's importance, surrounding him with a sort of halo, making of him -the master of the terrible machine by whose wheels she had felt -herself being seized all the morning. And, behind his handsome face, -well-trimmed beard, and eyes of the colour of old gold, she beheld the -dead woman, that Madame Hédouin, whose blood had helped to cement the -stones of the house. The shiver she had felt the previous night again -seized her; and she thought she was merely afraid of him. - -Meanwhile, Madame Aurélie had closed the book. She only wanted one -saleswoman, and she already had ten applications. But she was too -anxious to please the governor to hesitate for a moment. However, the -application would follow its course, Jouve, the inspector, would go -and make enquiries, send in his report, and then she would come to a -decision. - -“Very good, mademoiselle,” said she majestically, to preserve her -authority; “we will write to you.” - -Denise stood there, unable to move for a moment, hardly knowing how to -take her leave in the midst of all these people. At last she thanked -Madame Aurélie, and on passing by Mouret and Bourdoncle, she bowed. -These gentlemen, occupied in examining the pattern of a mantle with -Madame Frédéric, did not take the slightest notice. Clara looked in a -vexed way towards Marguerite, as if to predict that the new comer would -not have a very pleasant time of it in the place. Denise doubtless felt -this indifference and rancour behind her, for she went downstairs with -the same troubled feeling she had on going up, asking herself whether -she ought to be sorry or glad to have come. Could she count on having -the situation? She did not even know that, her uncomfortable state -having prevented her understanding clearly. Of all her sensations, two -remained and gradually effaced all the others--the emotion, almost -the fear, inspired in her by Mouret, and Hutin's amiability, the only -pleasure she had enjoyed the whole morning, a souvenir of charming -sweetness which filled her with gratitude. When she crossed the shop to -go out she looked for the young man, happy at the idea of thanking him -again with her eyes; and she was very sorry not to see him. - -“Well, mademoiselle, have you succeeded?” asked a timid voice, as she at -last stood on the pavement outside. She turned round and recognised the -tall, awkward young fellow who had spoken to her in the morning. He also -had just come out of The Ladies' Paradise, appearing more frightened -than she did, still bewildered with the examination he had just passed -through. - -“I really don't know yet, sir,” replied she. - -“You're like me, then. What a way of looking at and talking to you they -have in there--eh? I'm applying for a place in the lace department I was -at Crèvecour's in the Rue du Mail.” - -They were once more standing facing each other; and, not knowing how -to take leave, they commenced to blush. Then the young man, just for -something to say in the excess of his timidity, ventured to ask in his -good-natured, awkward way: “What is your name, mademoiselle?” - -“Denise Baudu.” - -“My name is Henri Deloche.” - -Now they smiled, and, yielding to the fraternity of their positions, -shook each other by the hand. - -“Good luck!” - -“Yes, good luck!” - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -Every Saturday, between four and six, Madame Desforges offered a cup of -tea and a few cakes to those friends who were kind enough to visit her. -She occupied the third floor of a house at the corner of the Rue de -Rivoli and the Rue d'Alger; and the windows of both drawing-rooms -overlooked the Tuileries Gardens. This Saturday, just as a footman was -about to introduce him into the principal drawing-room, Mouret perceived -from the anteroom, through an open door, Madame Desforges, who was -crossing the little drawing-room. She stopped on seeing him, and he went -in that way, bowing to her with a ceremonious air. But when the footman -had closed the door, he quickly seized the young woman's hand, and -tenderly kissed it. - -“Take care, I have company!” she said, in a low voice, glancing towards -the door of the larger room. “I've just been to fetch this fan to show -them,” and she playfully tapped him on the face with the tip of the fan. -She was dark, rather stout, with big jealous eyes. - -But he still held her hand and asked: “Will he come?” - -“Certainly,” replied she. “I have his promise.” - -Both of them referred to Baron Hartmann, director of the Crédit -Immobilier. Madame Desforges, daughter of a Councillor of State, was -the widow of a stock-broker, who had left her a fortune, denied by some, -exaggerated by others. Even during her husband's lifetime people said -she had shown herself grateful towards Baron Hartmann, whose financial -tips had proved very useful to them; and later on, after her husband's -death, the acquaintance had probably continued, but always discreetly, -without imprudence or display; for she never courted notoriety in any -way, and was received everywhere in the upper-middle classes amongst -whom she was born. Even at this time, when the passion of the banker, a -sceptical, crafty man, had subsided into a simple paternal affection, if -she permitted herself certain lovers whom he tolerated, she displayed -in these treasons of the heart such a delicate reserve and tact, a -knowledge of the world so adroitly applied, that appearances were saved, -and no one would have ventured to openly express any doubt as to -her conduct Having met Mouret at a mutual friend's, she had at first -detested him; but she had yielded to him later on, as if carried away by -the violent love with which he attacked her, and since he had commenced -to approach Baron Hartmann through her, she had gradually got to love -him with a real profound tenderness, adoring him with the violence of a -woman already thirty-five, although only acknowledging twenty-nine, -and in despair at feeling him younger than herself, trembling lest she -should lose him. - -“Does he know about it?” - -“No, you'll explain the affair to him yourself,” she replied. - -She looked at him, thinking that he couldn't know anything or he would -not employ her in this way with the baron, affecting to consider him -simply as an old friend of hers. But he still held her hand, he called -her his good Henriette, and she felt her heart melting. Silently she -presented her lips, pressed them to his, then whispered: “Oh, they're -waiting for me. Come in behind me.” - -They could hear voices issuing from the principal drawingroom, deadened -by the heavy curtains. She pushed the door, leaving its two folds open, -and handed the fan to one of the four ladies who were seated in the -middle of the room. - -“There it is,” said she; “I didn't know exactly where it was. My maid -would never have found it.” And she added in her cheerful way: “Come in, -Monsieur Mouret, come through the little drawing-room; it will be less -solemn.” - -Mouret bowed to the ladies whom he knew. The drawingroom, with its -flowered brocatel Louis XVI. furniture, gilded bronzes and large green -plants, had a tender feminine air, notwithstanding the height of the -ceiling; and through the two windows could be seen the chestnut trees in -the Tuileries Gardens, their leaves blowing about in the October wind. - -“But it isn't at all bad, this Chantilly!” exclaimed Madame Bourdelais, -who had taken the fan. - -She was a short fair woman of thirty, with a delicate nose and sparkling -eyes, an old school-fellow of Henriette's, and who had married a chief -clerk in the Treasury. Of an old middle-class family, she managed her -household and three children with a rare activity and good grace, and an -exquisite knowledge of practical life. - -“And you paid twenty-five francs for it?” resumed she, examining each -mesh of the lace. “At Luc, I think you said, to a country woman? No, it -isn't dear; but you had to get it mounted, hadn't you?” - -“Of course,” replied Madame Desforges. “The mounting cost me two hundred -francs.” - -Madame Bourdelais began to laugh. And that was what Henriette called a -bargain! Two hundred francs for a plain ivory mount, with a monogram! -And that for a simple piece of Chantilly, over which she had saved five -francs, perhaps. Similar fans could be had ready, mounted for a hundred -and twenty francs, and she named a shop in the Rue Poissonnière. - -However, the fan was handed round to all the ladies. Madame Guibal -barely glanced at it. She was a tall, thin woman, with red hair, and -a face full of indifference, in which her grey eyes, occasionally -penetrating her unconcerned air, cast the terrible gleams of -selfishness. She was never seen out with her husband, a barrister -well-known at the Palais de Justice, who led, it was said, a pretty free -life, dividing himself between his law business and his pleasures. - -“Oh,” murmured she, passing the fan to Madame de Boves, “I've scarcely -bought one in my life. One always receives too many of such things.” - -The countess replied with delicate malice: “You are fortunate, my dear, -in having a gallant husband.” And bending over to her daughter, a tall -girl of twenty, she added: “Just look at the monogram, Blanche. What -pretty work! It's the monogram that must have increased the price like -that.” - -Madame de Boves had just turned forty. She was a superb woman, with the -neck of a goddess, a large regular face, and big sleepy eyes, whom her -husband, Inspector-General of the Stud, had married for her beauty. She -appeared quite moved by the delicacy of the monogram, as if seized with -a desire the emotion of which made her turn pale, and turning round -suddenly, she continued: “Give us your opinion, Monsieur Mouret. Is it -too dear--two hundred francs for this mount?” - -Mouret had remained standing in the midst of the five women, smiling, -taking an interest in what interested them. He picked up the fan, -examined it, and was about to give his opinion, when the footman opened -the door and announced: - -“Madame Marty.” - -And there entered a thin, ugly woman, ravaged with the small-pox, -dressed with a complicated elegance. She was of uncertain age, her -thirty-five years appearing sometimes equal to thirty, and sometimes to -forty, according to the intensity of the nervous fever which agitated -her. A red leather bag, which she had not let go, hung from her right -hand. - -“Dear madame,” said she to Henriette, “excuse me bringing my bag. Just -fancy, as I was coming along I went into The Paradise, and as I have -again been very extravagant, I did not like to leave it in my cab -for fear of being robbed.” But having perceived Mouret, she resumed -laughingly: “Ah! sir, I didn't mean to give you an advertisement, for I -didn't know you were here. But you really have some extraordinary fine -lace just now.” - -This turned the attention from the fan, which the young man laid on the -table. The ladies were all anxious to see what Madame Marty had -bought. She was known to be very extravagant, totally unable to resist -temptation, strict in her conduct and incapable of yielding to a lover, -but weak and cowardly, easily conquered before the least bit of finery. -Daughter of a city clerk, she was ruining her husband, a master at the -Lycée Bonaparte, who was obliged to double his salary of six thousand -francs a year by giving private lessons, in order to meet the constantly -increasing household expenses. She did not open her bag, but held it -tight on her lap, and commenced to talk about her daughter Valentine, -fourteen years old, one of her dearest coquetries, for she dressed her -like herself, with all the fashionable novelties of which she submitted -to the irresistible seduction. - -“You know,” she said, “they are making dresses trimmed with a -narrow lace for young girls this winter. So when I saw a very pretty -Valenciennes----” - -And she at last decided to open her bag. The ladies were stretching out -their necks, when, in the midst of the silence, the door-bell was heard. - -“It's my husband,” stammered Madame Marty, very confused. “He promised to -fetch me on leaving the Lycée Bonaparte.” - -She quickly shut the bag again, and put it under her chair with an -instinctive movement. All the ladies set up a laugh. This made her -blush for her precipitation, and she put the bag on her knees again, -explaining that men never understood, and that they need not know. - -“Monsieur de Boves, Monsieur de Vallagnosc,” announced the footman. - -It was quite a surprise. Madame de Boves herself did not expect her -husband. The latter, a fine man, wearing a moustache and an imperial -with the military correctness so much liked at the Tuileries, kissed -the hand of Madame Desforges, whom he had known as a young girl at her -father's. And he made way to allow his companion, a tall, pale fellow, -of an aristocratic poverty of blood, to make his bow to the lady of the -house. But the conversation had hardly recommenced when two exclamations -were heard: - -“What! Is that you, Paul?” - -“Why, Octave!” - -Mouret and Vallagnosc then shook hands, much to Madame Desforges's -surprise. They knew each other, then? Of course, they had grown up side -by side at the college at Plassans, and it was quite by chance they had -not met at her house before. However, with their hands still united, -they went into the little drawing-room, just as the servant brought in -the tea, a china service on a silver waiter, which he placed near Madame -Desforges, on a small round marble table with a light copper mounting. -The ladies drew up and began talking louder, all speaking at once, -producing a cross-fire of short disjointed sentences; whilst Monsieur -de Boves, standing up behind them, put in an occasional word with the -gallantry of a handsome functionary. The vast room, so prettily and -cheerfully furnished, became merrier still with these gossiping voices, -and the frequent laughter. - -“Ah! Paul, old boy,” repeated Mouret. - -He was seated near Vallagnosc, on a sofa. And alone in the little -drawing-room, very coquettish with its pretty silk hangings, out of -hearing of the ladies, and not even seeing them, except through the open -door, the two old friends commenced grinning, examining each other's -looks, exchanging slaps on the knees. Their whole youthful career was -recalled, the old college at Plassans, with its two courtyards, its -damp classrooms, and the dining-room in which they had consumed so much -cod-fish, and the dormitories where the pillows used to fly from bed -to bed as soon as the monitor began to snore. Paul, belonging to an old -parliamentary family, noble, poor, and proud, was a good scholar, -always at the top of his class, continually held up as an example by -the master, who prophesied for him a brilliant future; whilst Octave -remained at the bottom, stuck amongst the dunces, fat and jolly, -indulging in all sorts of pleasures outside. Notwithstanding the -difference in their characters, a fast friendship had rendered them -inseparable, until their final examinations, which they passed, the one -with honours, the other in a passable manner after two vexatious trials. -Then they went out into the world, and had now met again, after ten -years, already changed and looking older. - -“Well,” said Mouret, “what's become of you?” - -“Nothing at all,” replied the other. - -Vallagnosc, in the joy of their meeting, retained his tired and -disenchanted air; and as his friend, astonished, insisted, saying: “But -you must do something. What do you do?” - -“Nothing,” replied he. - -Octave commenced to laugh. Nothing! that wasn't enough. Little by little -he succeeded in drawing Paul out to tell his story. It was the usual -story of penniless younger sons, who think themselves obliged by their -birth to choose a liberal profession, burying themselves in a sort -of vain mediocrity, happy to escape starvation, notwithstanding their -numerous degrees. He had studied law by a sort of family tradition; and -had since remained a burden on his widowed mother, who even then hardly -knew how to dispose of her two daughters. Having at last got quite -ashamed, he left the three women to vegetate on the remnants of their -fortune, and accepted an appointment in the Ministry of the Interior, -where he buried himself like a mole in its hole. - -“What do you get there?” resumed Mouret. - -“Three thousand francs.” - -“But that's pitiful pay! Ah! old man, I'm really sorry for you. What! a -clever fellow like you, who floored all of us I And they only give you -three thousand francs a year, after having already ground you down for -five years! No, it isn't right!” He interrupted himself, and returned to -his own doings. “As for me, I made them a humble bow. You know what I'm -doing?” - -“Yes,” said Vallagnosc, “I heard you were in business. You've got that -big place in the Place Gaillon, haven't you?” - -“That's it. Counter-jumper, my boy!” - -Mouret raised his head, again slapped him on the knee, and repeated, -with the solid gaiety of a fellow who did not blush for the trade by -which he was making his fortune: - -“Counter-jumper, and no mistake! You remember, no doubt, I didn't bite -much at their machines, although at heart I never thought myself duller -than the others. When I took my degree, just to please the family, I -could have become a barrister or a doctor quite as easily as any of my -school-fellows, but those trades frightened me. I saw so many who were -starving at them that I just threw them over without the least regret, -and pitched head-first into business.” - -Vallognosc smiled with an awkward air, and ultimately said: “It's very -certain your degree can't be much good to you for selling calico.” - -“Well!” replied Mouret, joyously, “all I ask is, that it shall not stand -in my way, and you know, when one has been stupid enough to burden one's -self with it, it is difficult to get rid of it. One goes at a tortoise's -pace through life, whilst those who are bare-footed run like madmen.” - Then, noticing that his friend seemed troubled, he took his hand in -his, and continued: “Come, come, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but -confess that your degrees have not satisfied any of your wants. Do you -know that my manager in the silk department will draw more than twelve -thousand francs this year. Just so! a fellow of very clear intelligence, -whose knowledge is confined to spelling, and the first four rules. The -ordinary salesmen in my place make from three to four thousand francs -a year, more than you can earn yourself; and their education was not so -expensive as yours, nor were they launched into the world with a written -promise to conquer it. Of course, it is not everything to make money; -but between the poor devils possessed of a smattering of science who -now block up the liberal professions, without earning enough to keep -themselves from starving, and the practical fellows armed for life's -struggle, knowing every branch of their trade, by Jove! I don't hesitate -a moment, I'm for the latter against the former, I think they thoroughly -understand the age they live in!” - -His voice had become impassioned. Henriette, who was pouring out the -tea, turned her head. When he caught her smile, at the further end of -the large drawing-room, and saw the other ladies were listening, he was -the first to make merry over his own big phrases. - -“In short, old man, every counter-jumper who commences, has, at the -present day, a chance of becoming a millionaire.” - -Vallagnosc threw himself back on the sofa indolently, half-closing his -eyes in a fatigued and disdainful attitude, in which a suspicion of -affectation was added to his real hereditary exhaustion. - -“Bah!” murmured he, “life isn't worth all that trouble. There is nothing -worth living for.” And as Mouret, shocked, looked at him with an air of -surprise, he added: “Everything happens and nothing happens; one may as -well stay with one's arms folded.” - -He then explained his pessimism--the mediocrities and the abortions of -existence. For a time he had thought of literature, but his intercourse -with certain poets had filled him with universal despair. He always -arrived at the conclusion that all effort was useless, every hour -equally weary and empty, and the world incurably stupid and dull. All -enjoyment was a failure, and there was no pleasure in wrong-doing even. - -“Just tell me, do you enjoy life yourself?” asked he at last. - -Mouret was now in a state of astonished indignation, and exclaimed: -“What? Do I enjoy myself? What are you talking about? Why, of course -I do, my boy, and even when things give way, for then I am furious at -hearing them cracking. I am a passionate fellow myself, and don't -take life quietly; that's what interests me in it perhaps.” He glanced -towards the drawing-room, and lowered his voice. “Oh! there are some -women who've bothered me awfully, I must confess. But when I've got hold -of one, I keep her. She doesn't always escape me, and then I take my -share, I assure you. But it is not so much the women, for to speak -truly, I don't care a hang for them; it's the wish to act--to create, in -short. You have an idea; you fight for it, you hammer it into people's -heads, and you see it grow and triumph. Ah! yes, my boy, I enjoy life!” - -All the joy of action, all the gaiety of existence, resounded in these -words. He repeated that he went with the times. Really, a man must be -badly constituted, have his brain and limbs out of order, to refuse to -work in an age of such vast undertakings, when the entire century was -pressing forward with giant strides. And he laughed at the despairing -ones, the disgusted ones, the pessimists, all those weak, sickly members -of our budding sciences, who assumed the weeping airs of poets, or the -mincing ways of sceptics, amidst the immense activity of the present -day. A fine part to play, proper and intelligent, that of yawning before -other people's labour! - -“That's my only pleasure, yawning in other's faces,” said Vallagnosc, -smiling with his cold look. - -At this Mouret's passion subsided, and he became affectionate again. -“Ah, Paul, you're not changed. Just as paradoxical as ever! However, -we've not met to quarrel. Each one has his own ideas, fortunately. But -you must come and see my machine at work; you'll see it isn't a bad -idea. Come, what news? Your mother and sisters are quite well, I hope? -And weren't you supposed to get married at Plassans, about six months -ago?” - -A sudden movement made by Vallagnosc stopped him; and as the former was -looking round the drawing-room with an anxious expression, Mouret -also turned round, and noticed that Mademoiselle de Boves was closely -watching them. Blanche, tall and stout, resembled her mother; but her -face was already puffed out, her large, coarse features swollen with -unhealthy fat. Paul, in reply to a discreet question, intimated that -nothing was yet settled; perhaps nothing would be settled. He had made -the young person's acquaintance at Madame Desforges's, where he had -visited a good deal last winter, but where he very rarely came now, -which explained why he had not met Octave there sooner. In their turn, -the De Boves invited him, and he was especially fond of the father, a -very amiable man, formerly well known about town, who had retired into -his present position. On the other hand, no money. Madame de Boves -having brought her husband nothing but her Juno-like beauty as a -marriage portion, the family were living poorly on the last mortgaged -farm, to which modest revenue was added, fortunately, the nine thousand -francs a year drawn by the count as Inspector-General of the Stud. -And the ladies, mother and daughter, kept very short of money by him, -impoverished by tender escapades outside, were sometimes reduced to -turning their dresses themselves. - -“In that case, why marry?” was Mouret's simple question. - -“Well! I can't go on like this for ever,” said Vallagnosc, with a weary -movement of the eyelids. “Besides, there are certain expectations; we -are waiting the death of an aunt.” - -However, Mouret still kept his eye on Monsieur de Boves, who, seated -next to Madame Guibal, was most attentive, and laughing tenderly like -a man on an amorous campaign; he turned to his friend with such a -significant twinkle of the eye that the latter added: - -“Not that one. At least not yet. The misfortune is, that his duty calls -him to the four corners of France, to the breeding depôts, so that he -has continual pretexts for absenting himself. Last month, whilst his -wife supposed him to be at Perpignan, he was living at an hotel, in an -out-of-the-way neighbourhood, with a music-mistress.” - -There ensued a pause. Then the young man, who was also watching the -count's gallantries towards Madame Guibal, resumed in a low tone: -“Really, I think you are right. The more so as the dear lady is not -exactly a saint, if all they say is true. There's a very amusing story -about her and an officer. But just look at him! Isn't he comical, -magnetising her with his eyes? The old-fashioned gallantry, my dear -fellow! I adore that man, and if I marry his daughter, he can safely say -it's for his sake!” - -Mouret laughed, greatly amused. He questioned Vallagnosc again, and when -he found that the first idea of a marriage between him and Blanche came -from Madame Desforges, he thought the story better still. That good -Henriette took a widow's delight in marrying people, so much so, that -when she had provided for the girls, she sometimes allowed their fathers -to choose friends from her company; but all so naturally, with such a -good grace, that no one ever found any food for scandal. And Mouret, who -loved her with the love of an active, busy man, accustomed to reducing -his tenderness to figures, forgot all his calculations of captivation, -and felt for her a comrade's friendship. - -At that moment she appeared at the door of the little drawing-room, -followed by a gentleman, about sixty years old, whose entry had not -been observed by the two friends. Occasionally the ladies' voices became -sharper, accompanied by the tinkling of the small spoons in the china -cups; and there was heard, from time to time, in the interval of a -short silence, the noise of a saucer laid down too roughly on the marble -table. A sudden gleam of the setting sun, which had just emerged from -behind a thick cloud, gilded the top of the chestnut-trees in the -gardens, and streamed through the windows in a red, golden flame, the -fire of which lighted up the brocatel and brass-work of the furniture. - -“This way, my dear baron,” said Madame Desforges. “Allow me to introduce -Monsieur Octave Mouret, who is longing to express the admiration he -feels for you.” And turning round towards Octave, she added: “Baron -Hartmann.” - -[Illustration: 0077] - -A smile played on the old man's lips. He was a short, vigorous man, with -a large Alsatian head, and a heavy face, which lighted up with a gleam -of intelligence at the slightest curl of his mouth, the slightest -movement of his eyelids. For the last fortnight he had resisted -Henriette's wish that he should consent to this interview; not that he -felt any immoderate jealousy, accepting, like a man of the world, his -position of father; but because it was the third friend Henriette had -introduced to him, and he was afraid of becoming ridiculous at last. -So that on approaching Octave he put on the discreet smile of a rich -protector, who, if good enough to show himself charming, does not -consent to be a dupe. - -“Oh! sir,” said Mouret, with his Southern enthusiasm, “the Crédit -Immobiliers last operation was really astonishing! You cannot think how -happy and proud I am to know you.” - -“Too kind, sir, too kind,” repeated the baron, still smiling. - -Henriette looked at them with her clear eyes without any awkwardness, -standing between the two, lifting her head, going from one to the other; -and, in her lace dress, which revealed her delicate neck and wrists, she -appeared delighted to see them so friendly together. - -“Gentlemen,” said she at last, “I leave you to your conversation.” Then, -turning towards Paul, who had got up, she resumed: “Will you accept of a -cup of tea, Monsieur de Vallagnosc?” - -“With pleasure, madame,” and they both returned to the drawing-room. - -Mouret resumed his place on the sofa, when Baron Hartmann had sat -down; the young man then broke out in praise of the Crédit Immobiliers -operations. From that he went on to the subject so near his heart, -speaking of the new thoroughfare, of the lengthening of the Rue Reaumur, -of which they were going to open a section under the name of the Rue du -Dix-Décembre, between the Place de la Bourse and the Place de -l'Opera. It had been declared a work of public utility eighteen months -previously; the expropriation jury had just been appointed. The whole -neighbourhood was excited about this new opening, anxiously awaiting the -commencement of the work, taking an interest in the condemned houses. -Mouret had been waiting three years for this work--first, in the -expectation of an increase of business; secondly, with certain schemes -of enlargement which he dared not openly avow, so extensive were his -ideas. As the Rue du Dix-Décembre was to cut through the Rue de Choiseul -and the Rue de la Michodière, he saw The Ladies' Paradise invading -the whole block, surrounded by these streets and the Rue -Neuve-Saint-Augustin; he already imagined it with a princely frontage in -the new thoroughfare, lord and master of the conquered city. Hence his -strong desire to make Baron Hartmann's acquaintance, when he learnt that -the Crédit Immobilier had made a contract with the authorities to open -and build the Rue du Dix-Décembre, on condition that they received the -frontage ground on each side of the street. - -“Really,” repeated he, trying to assume a naïve look, “you'll hand over -the street ready made, with sewers, pavements, and gas lamps. And the -frontage ground will suffice to compensate you. Oh! it's curious, very -curious!” - -At last he came to the delicate point. He was aware that the Crédit -Immobilier was buying up the houses which surrounded The Ladies' -Paradise, not only those which were to fall under the demolisher's -hands, but the others as well, those which were to remain standing; and -he suspected the projectment of some future establishment He was very -anxious about the enlargements of which he continued to extend the -dream, seized with fear at the idea of one day clashing with a powerful -company, owning property which they certainly would not part with. It -was precisely this fear which had decided him to establish a connection -immediately between himself and the baron--the amiable connection of a -woman, so powerful between men of a gallant nature. No doubt he could -have seen the financier in his office, and talked over the affair in -question at his ease; but he felt himself stronger in Henriette's house; -he knew how much the mutual possession of a mistress serves to render -men pliable and tender. To be both near her, within the beloved perfume -of her presence, to have her ready to convince them with a smile, seemed -to him a certainty of success. - -“Haven't you bought the old Hôtel Duvillard, that old building next to -mine?” he asked suddenly. - -The baron hesitated a moment, and then denied it. But Mouret looked in -his face and smiled, playing, from that moment, the part of a good young -man, open-hearted, simple, and straightforward in business. - -“Look here, baron,” said he, “as I have the unexpected honour of meeting -you, I must make a confession. Oh, I don't ask you any of your secrets, -but I am going to entrust you with mine, certain that I couldn't place -them in wiser hands. Besides, I want your advice. I have long wished to -call and see you, but dared not do so.” - -He did make his confession, he related his start, not even concealing -the financial crisis through which he was passing in the midst of his -triumph. Everything was brought up, the successive enlargements, the -profits continually put back into the business, the sums brought by his -employees, the house risking its existence at every fresh sale, in which -the entire capital was staked, as it were, on a single throw of the -dice. However, it was not money he wanted, for he had a fanatic's faith -in his customers; his ambition ran higher; he proposed to the baron a -partnership, into which the Crédit Immobilier should bring the colossal -palace he saw in his dreams, whilst he, for his part, would give his -genius and the business already created. The estate could be valued, -nothing appeared to him easier to realise. - -“What are you going to do with your land and buildings?” asked he, -persistently. “You have a plan, no doubt. But I'm quite certain your -idea is not so good as mine. Think of that. We build a gallery on the -ground, we pull down or re-arrange the houses, and we open the most -extensive establishment in Paris--a bazaar which will bring in -millions.” And he let slip the fervent heartfelt exclamation: “Ah! if I -could only do without you! But you get hold of everything now. Besides, -I shall never have the necessary capital. Come, we must come to an -understanding. It would be a crime not to do so.” - -“How you go ahead, my dear sir!” Baron Hartmann contented himself with -replying. “What an imagination!” - -He shook his head, and continued to smile, determined not to return -confidence for confidence. The intention of the Crédit Immobilier was -to create in the Rue du Dix-Décembre a rival to the Grand Hôtel, a -luxurious establishment, the central position of which would attract -foreigners. At the same time, as the hôtel was only to occupy a certain, -frontage, the baron could also have entertained Mouret's idea, and -treated for the rest of the block of houses, occupying a vast surface. -But he had already advanced funds to two of Henriette's friends, and -he was getting tired of his position as complacent protector. Besides, -notwithstanding his passion for activity, which prompted him to open his -purse to every fellow of intelligence and courage, Mouret's commercial -genius astonished more than captivated him. Was it not a fanciful, -imprudent operation, this gigantic shop? Would he not risk a certain -failure in thus enlarging out of all bounds the drapery trade? In short, -he didn't believe in it; he refused. - -“No doubt the idea is attractive, but it's a poet's idea. Where would -you find the customers to fill such a cathedral?” Mouret looked at -him for a moment silently, as if stupefied at his refusal. Was it -possible?--a man of such foresight, who smelt money at no matter what -depth! And suddenly, with an extremely eloquent gesture, he pointed to -the ladies in the drawing-room and exclaimed: “There are my customers!” - The sun was going down, the golden-red flame was now but a pale light, -dying away in a farewell gleam on the silk of the hangings and the -panels of the furniture. At this approach of twilight, an intimacy -bathed the large room in a sweet softness. While Monsieur de Boves and -Paul de Vallagnosc were talking near one of the windows, their eyes -wandering far away into the gardens, the ladies had closed up, forming -in the middle of the room a narrow circle of petticoats, from which -issued sounds of laughter, whispered words, ardent questions and -replies, all the passion felt by woman for expenditure and finery. They -were talking about dress, and Madame de Boves was describing a costume -she had seen at a ball. - -“First of all, a mauve silk skirt, then over that flounces of old -Alençon lace, twelve inches deep.” - -“Oh! is it possible!” exclaimed Madame Marty. “Some women are -fortunate!” - -Baron Hartmann, who had followed Mouret's gesture, was looking at the -ladies through the door, which was wide open. He was listening to them -with one ear, whilst the young man, inflamed by the desire to convince -him, went deeper into the question, explaining the mechanism of the new -style of drapery business. This branch of commerce was now based on a -rapid and continual turning over of the capital, which it was necessary -to turn into goods as often as possible in the same year. Thus, that -year his capital, which only amounted to five hundred thousand francs, -had been turned over four times, and had thus produced business to -the amount of two millions. But this was a mere trifle, which could -be increased tenfold, for later on he certainly hoped to turn over the -capital fifteen or twenty times in certain departments. - -“You will understand, baron, that the whole system lies in this. It -is very simple, but it had to be found out. We don't want a very large -working capital; our sole effort is to get rid as quickly as possible of -our stock to replace it by another, which will give our capital as many -times its interest. In this way we can content ourselves with a very -small profit; as our general expenses amount to the enormous figure of -sixteen per cent., and as we seldom make more than twenty per cent, on -our goods, it is only a net profit of four per cent at most; but this -will finish by bringing in millions when we can operate on considerable -quantities of goods incessantly renewed. You follow me, don't you? -nothing can be clearer.” - -The baron shook his head again. He who had entertained the boldest -combinations, of whom people still quoted the daring flights at the time -of the introduction of gas, still remained uneasy and obstinate. - -“I quite understand,” said he; “you sell cheap to sell a quantity, and -you sell a quantity to sell cheap. But you must sell, and I repeat my -former question: Whom will you sell to? How do you hope to keep up such -a colossal sale?” - -The sudden burst of a voice, coming from the drawing-room, cut short -Mouret's explanation. It was Madame Guibal, who was saying she would -have preferred the flounces of old Alençon down the front only. - -“But, my dear,” said Madame de Boves, “the front was covered with it as -well. I never saw anything richer.” - -“Ah, that's a good idea,” resumed Madame Desforges, “I've got several -yards of Alençon somewhere; I must look them up for a trimming.” - -And the voices fell again, becoming nothing but a murmur. Prices were -quoted, quite a traffic stirred up their desires, the ladies were buying -lace by the mile. - -“Why!” said Mouret, when he could speak, “we can sell what we like when -we know how to sell! There lies our triumph.” - -And with his southern spirit, he showed the new business at work in -warm, glowing phrases which evoked whole pictures. First came the -wonderful power of the piling up of the goods, all accumulated at one -point, sustaining and pushing each other, never any stand-still, the -article of the season always on hand; and from counter to counter the -customer found herself seized, buying here the material, further on the -cotton, elsewhere the mantle, everything necessary to complete her dress -in fact, then falling into unforeseen purchases, yielding to her longing -for the useless and the pretty. He then went on to sing the praises of -the plain figure system. The great revolution in the business sprung -from this fortunate inspiration. If the old-fashioned small shops were -dying out it was because they could not struggle against the low prices -guaranteed by the tickets. The competition was now going on under -the very eyes of the public; a look into the windows enabled them to -contrast the prices; every shop was lowering its rates, contenting -itself with the smallest possible profit; no cheating, no stroke of -fortune prepared long beforehand on an article sold at double its value, -but current operations, a regular percentage on all goods, success -depending solely on the orderly working of a sale all the larger from -the fact of its being carried on in broad daylight. Was it not an -astonishing creation? It was causing a revolution in the market, -transforming Paris, for it was made of woman's flesh and blood. - -“I have the women, I don't care a hang for the rest!” said Mouret, in a -brutal confession which passion snatched from him. - -At this cry Baron Hartmann appeared moved. His smile lost its touch of -irony; he looked at the young man, won over gradually by his confidence, -feeling a growing tenderness for him. - -“Hush!” murmured he, paternally, “they will hear you.” - -But the ladies were now all speaking at once, so excited that they -weren't even listening to each other. Madame de Boves was finishing the -description of a dinner-dress; a mauve silk tunic, draped and caught up -by bows of lace; the bodice cut very low, with more bows of lace on the -shoulders. - -“You'll see,” said she. “I am having a bodice made like it, with some -satin----” - -“I,” interrupted Madame Bourdelais, “I wanted some velvet. Oh! such a -bargain!” - -Madame Marty asked: “How much for the silk?” - -And off they started again, all together. Madame Guibal, Henriette, and -Blanche were measuring, cutting out, and making up. It was a pillage of -material, a ransacking of all the shops, an appetite for luxury which -expended itself in toilettes longed for and dreamed of--such a happiness -to find themselves in an atmosphere of finery, that they lived buried in -it, as in the warm air necessary to their existence. - -Mouret, however, had glanced towards the other drawingroom, and in a few -phrases whispered into the baron's ear, as if he were confiding to him -one of those amorous secrets that men sometimes risk among themselves, -he finished explaining the mechanism of modern commerce. And, above the -facts already given, right at the summit, appeared the exploitation of -woman. Everything depended on that, the capital incessantly renewed, the -system of piling up goods, the cheapness which attracts, the marking -in plain figures which tranquilises. It was for woman that all the -establishments were struggling in wild competition; it was woman that -they were continually catching in the snare of their bargains, after -bewildering her with their displays. They had awakened new desires in -her flesh; they were an immense temptation, before which she succumbed -fatally, yielding at first to reasonable purchases of useful articles -for the household, then tempted by their coquetry, then devoured. In -increasing their business tenfold, in popularising luxury, they became -a terrible spending agency, ravaging the households, working up the -fashionable folly of the hour, always dearer. And if woman reigned -in their shops like a queen, cajoled, flattered, overwhelmed with -attentions, she was an amorous one, on whom her subjects traffic, and -who pays with a drop of her blood each fresh caprice. Through the -very gracefulness of his gallantry, Mouret thus allowed to appear the -brutality of a Jew, selling woman by the pound. He raised a temple to -her, had her covered with incense by a legion of shopmen, created the -rite of a new religion, thinking of nothing but her, continually seeking -to imagine more powerful seductions; and, behind her back, when he had -emptied her purse and shattered her nerves, he was full of the secret -scorn of a man to whom a woman had just been stupid enough to yield -herself. - -“Once have the women on your side,” whispered he to the baron, and -laughing boldly, “you could sell the very world.” Now the baron -understood. A few sentences had sufficed, he guessed the rest, and such -a gallant exploitation inflamed him, stirring up in him the memory of -his past life of pleasure. His eyes twinkled in a knowing way, and -he ended by looking with an air of admiration at the inventor of this -machine for devouring the women. It was really clever. He made the same -remark as Bourdoncle, suggested to him by his long experience: “You know -they'll make you suffer for it.” - -But Mouret shrugged his shoulders in a movement of overwhelming disdain. -They all belonged to him, were his property, and he belonged to none -of them. After having drawn from them his fortune and his pleasure, he -intended to throw them all over for those who might still find their -account in them. It was the rational, cold disdain of a Southerner and a -speculator. - -“Well! my dear baron,” asked he in conclusion, “will you join me? Does -this affair appear possible to you?” - -The baron, half conquered, did not wish, however, to engage himself yet -A doubt remained beneath the charm which was gradually operating on him. -He was going to reply in an evasive manner, when a pressing call from -the ladies spared him the trouble. Voices were repeating, amidst silvery -laughter: “Monsieur Mouret! Monsieur Mouret!” And as the latter, annoyed -at being interrupted, pretended not to hear, Madame de Boves, who had -just got up, came as far as the door of the little drawing-room. - -“You are wanted, Monsieur Mouret. It isn't very gallant of you to bury -yourself in a corner to talk over business.” - -He then decided to go, with an apparent good grace, an air of rapture -which astonished the baron. Both rose up and passed into the other -drawing-room. - -“But I am quite at your service, ladies,” said he on entering, a smile -on his lips. - -He was greeted with a burst of triumph. He was obliged to go further -forward; the ladies made room for him in their midst The sun had just -gone down behind the trees in the gardens, the day was departing, a fine -shadow was gradually invading the vast apartment. It was the tender hour -of twilight, that minute of discreet voluptuousness in the Parisian -houses, between the dying brightness of the street and the lighting of -the lamps downstairs. Monsieur de Boves and Vallagnosc, still standing -up before a window, threw a shadow on the carpet: whilst, motionless -in the last gleam of light which came in by the other window, Monsieur -Marty, who had quietly entered, and whom the conversation of these -ladies about dress had completely confused, placed his poor profile, a -frock-coat, scanty but clean, his face pale and wan from teaching. - -“Is your sale still fixed for next Monday?” Madame Marty was just -asking. - -“Certainly, madame,” replied Mouret, in a soft, sweet voice, an actor's -voice, which he assumed when speaking to women. - -Henriette then intervened. “We are all going, you know. They say you are -preparing wonders.” - -“Oh! wonders!” murmured he, with an air of modest fatuity. “I simply try -to deserve your patronage.” - -But they pressed him with questions: Madame Bourdelais, Madame Guibal, -Blanche even wanted to know. - -“Come, give us some details,” repeated Madame de Boves, persistently. -“You are making us die of curiosity.” - -And they were surrounding him, when Henriette observed that he had not -even taken a cup of tea. It was distressing. Four of them set about -serving him, but on condition that he would answer them afterwards. -Henriette poured it out, Madame Marty held the cup, whilst Madame de -Boves and Madame Bourdelais contended for the honour of sweetening it. -Then, when he had declined to sit down, and commenced to drink his -tea slowly, standing up in the midst of them, they all approached, -imprisoning him in the narrow circle of their skirts; and with their -heads raised, their eyes sparkling, they sat there smiling at him. - -“Your silk, your Paris Paradise, that all the papers are taking about?” - resumed Madame Marty, impatiently. - -“Oh!” replied he, “an extraordinary article, coarse-grained, supple and -strong. You'll see it, ladies, and you'll see it nowhere else, for we -have bought the exclusive right of it.” - -“Really! a fine silk at five francs twelve sous!” said Madame -Bourdelais, enthusiastic. “One cannot credit it.” - -Ever since the advertisement had appeared, this silk had occupied a -considerable place in their daily life. They talked of it, promising -themselves some of it, worked up with desire and doubt. And, beneath -the gossiping curiosity with which they overwhelmed the young man, there -appeared their various temperaments as buyers. - -Madame Marty, carried away by her rage for spending, took everything at -The Ladies' Paradise, without choosing, just as the articles appeared; -Madame Guibal walked about the shop for hours without ever buying -anything, happy and satisfied to simply feast her eyes; Madame de Boves, -short of money, always tortured by some immoderate wish, nourished a -feeling of rancour against the goods she could not carry away; Madame -Bourdelais, with the sharp eye of a careful practical housewife, made -straight for the bargains, using the big establishments with such a -clever housewife's skill that she saved a heap of money; and lastly, -Henriette, who, very elegant, only procured certain articles there, such -as gloves, hosiery, and her coarser linen. - -“We have other stuffs of astonishing cheapness and richness,” continued -Mouret, with his musical voice. “For instance, I recommend you our -Golden Grain, a taffeta of incomparable brilliancy. In the fancy silks -there are some charming lines, designs chosen from among thousands by -our buyer: and in velvets you will find an exceedingly rich collection -of shades. I warn you that cloth will be greatly worn this year; you'll -see our checks and our cheviots.” - -They had ceased to interrupt him, and narrowed the circle, their mouths -half open with a vague smile, their eager faces close to his, as in a -sudden rush of their whole being towards the tempter. Their eyes grew -dim, a slight shudder ran through them. All this time he retained his -calm, conquering air, amidst the intoxicating perfumes which their hair -exhaled; and between each sentence he continued to sip a little of his -tea, the aroma of which cooled those sharper odours, in which there -was a particle of the savage. Before a captivating grace so thoroughly -master of itself, strong enough to play with woman in this way without -being overcome by the intoxication which she exhales, Baron Hartmann, -who had not ceased to look at him, felt his admiration increasing. - -“So cloth will be worn?” resumed Madame Marty, whose ravished face -sparkled with coquettish passion. - -Madame Bourdelais, who kept a cool look-out, said, in her turn: “Your -sale of remnants takes place on Thursday, doesn't it? I shall wait. I -have all my little ones to clothe.” And turning her delicate blonde head -towards the mistress of the house: “Sauveur is still your dressmaker, I -suppose?” - -“Yes,” replied Henriette, “Sauveur is very dear, but she is the only one -in Paris who knows how to make a bodice. Besides, Monsieur Mouret may -say what he likes, she has the prettiest designs, designs that are not -seen anywhere else. I can't bear to see my dresses on every woman's -back.” - -Mouret smiled discreetly at first. Then he intimated that Madame Sauveur -bought her material at his shop; no doubt she went to the manufacturers -direct for certain designs of which she acquired the sole right of sale; -but for all black silks, for instance, she watched for The Paradise -bargains, laying in a considerable stock, which she disposed of at -double and treble the price she gave. - -“Thus I am quite sure her buyers will snap up all our Paris Paradise. -Why should she go to the manufacturers and pay dearer for this silk -than she would at my place? On my word of honour, we shall sell it at a -loss.” - -This was a decisive blow for the ladies. The idea of getting goods below -cost price awoke in them all the greed felt by women, whose enjoyment -as buyers is doubled when they think they are robbing the tradesman. He -knew them to be incapable of resisting anything cheap. - -“But we sell everything for nothing!” exclaimed he gaily, taking -up Madame Desforges's fan, which was behind him on the table. “For -instance, here's this fan. I don't know what it cost.” - -“The Chantilly lace was twenty-five francs, and the mounting cost two -hundred,” said Henriette. - -“Well, the Chantilly isn't dear. However, we have the same at eighteen -francs; as for the mount, my dear madame, it's a shameful robbery. I -should not dare to sell one like it for more than ninety francs.” - -“Just what I said!” exclaimed Madame Bourdelais. - -“Ninety francs!” murmured Madame de Boves; “one must be very poor indeed -to go without one at that price.” - -She had taken up the fan, and was again examining it with her daughter -Blanche; and, on her large regular face, in her big sleepy eyes, there -arose an expression of the suppressed and despairing longing of a -caprice in which she could not indulge. The fan once more went the round -of the ladies, amidst various remarks and exclamations. Monsieur de -Boves and Vallagnosc, however, had left the window. Whilst the former -had returned to his place behind Madame Guibal, the charms of whose bust -he was admiring, with his correct and superior air, the young man was -leaning over Blanche, endeavouring to find something agreeable to say. - -“Don't you think it rather gloomy, mademoiselle, this white mount and -black lace?” - -“Oh,” replied she, gravely, not a blush colouring her inflated cheeks, -“I once saw one made of mother-of-pearl and white lace. Something truly -virginal!” - -Monsieur de Boves, who had doubtless observed the heartbroken, longing -looks with which his wife was following the fan, at last added his word -to the conversation. “These flimsy things don't last long, they soon -break,” said he. - -“Of course they do!” declared Madame Guibal, with an air of -indifference. “I'm tired of having mine mended.” - -For several minutes, Madame Marty, excited by the conversation, was -feverishly turning her red leather bag about on her lap, for she had not -yet been able to show her purchases. She was burning to display them, -with a sort of sensual desire; and, suddenly forgetting her husband's -presence, she took out a few yards of narrow lace wound on a piece of -cardboard. - -“It's the Valenciennes for my daughter,” said she. “It's an inch and a -half wide. Isn't it delicious? One franc eighteen sous.” - -The lace was passed from hand to hand. The ladies were astonished. -Mouret assured them he sold these little trimmings at cost price. -However, Madame Marty had closed the bag, as if to conceal certain -things she could not show. But after the success obtained by the -Valenciennes she was unable to resist the temptation of taking out a -handkerchief. - -“There was this handkerchief as well. Real Brussels, my dear. Oh! a -bargain! Twenty francs!” - -And after that the bag became inexhaustible, she blushed with pleasure, -a modesty like that of a woman undressing herself made her appear more -charming and embarrassed at each fresh article she took out. There was -a Spanish blonde-lace cravat, thirty francs: she didn't want it, but the -shopman had sworn it was the last, and that in future the price would -be raised. Next came a Chantilly veil: rather dear, fifty francs; if she -didn't wear it she could make it do for her daughter. - -“Really, lace is so pretty!” repeated she with her nervous laugh. “Once -I'm inside I could buy everything.” - -“And this?” asked Madame de Boves, taking up and examining a remnant of -Maltese lace. - -“That,” replied she, “is for an insertion. There are twenty-six yards--a -franc the yard. Just fancy!” - -“But,” said Madame Bourdelais, surprised, “what are you going to do with -it?” - -“I'm sure I don't know. But it was such a funny pattern!” - -At this moment she raised her eyes and perceived her terrified husband -in front of her. He had turned paler than usual, his whole person -expressed the patient, resigned anguish of a man assisting, powerless, -at the reckless expenditure of his salary, so dearly earned. Every fresh -bit of lace was for him a disaster; bitter days of teaching swallowed -up, long journeys to pupils through the mud devoured, the continued -effort of his life resulting in a secret misery, the hell of a -necessitous household. Before the increasing wildness of his look, she -wanted to catch up the veil, the cravat, and the handkerchief, moving -her feverish hands about, repeating with forced laughter: “You'll get -me a scolding from my husband. I assure you, my dear, I've been very -reasonable; for there was a fine piece of point at five hundred francs, -oh! a marvel!” - -“Why didn't you buy it?” asked Madame Guibal, calmly. “Monsieur Marty is -the most gallant of men.” - -The poor professor was obliged to bow and say his wife was perfectly -welcome. But the idea of this point at five hundred francs was like -a lump of ice dripping down his back; and as Mouret was just at that -moment affirming that the new shops increased the comfort of the -middle-class households, he glared at him with a terrible expression, -the flash of hatred of a timid man who would have throttled him had he -dared. - -But the ladies had still kept hold of the bits of lace, fascinated, -intoxicated. The pieces were unrolled, passed from one to the other, -drawing the admirers closer still, holding them in the delicate -meshes. On their laps there was a continual caress of this tissue, -so miraculously fine, and amidst which their culpable fingers fondly -lingered. They still kept Mouret a close prisoner, overwhelming him with -fresh questions. As the day continued to decline, he was now and again -obliged to bend his head, grazing their hair with his beard, to examine -a stitch, or indicate a design. But in this soft voluptuousness of -twilight, in the midst of this warm feminine atmosphere, Mouret still -remained their master beneath the rapture he affected. He seemed, to be -a woman himself, they felt themselves penetrated and overcome by this -delicate sense of their secret that he possessed, and they abandoned -themselves, captivated; whilst he, certain from that moment to have -them at his mercy, appeared, brutally triumphing over them, the despotic -monarch of dress. - -“Oh, Monsieur Mouret!” stammered they, in low, hysterical voices, in the -gloom of the drawing-room. - -The last rays of the setting sun were dying away on the brass-work -of the furniture. The laces alone retained a snowy reflex on the dark -dresses of the ladies, of which the confused group seemed to surround -the young man with a vague appearance of kneeling, worshipping women. A -light still shone on the side of the silver teapot, a short flame like -that of a night-light, burning in an alcove warmed by the perfume of the -tea. But suddenly the servant entered with two lamps, and the charm was -destroyed. The drawing-room became light and cheerful. Madame Marty was -putting her lace in her little bag, Madame de Boves was eating a sponge -cake, whilst Henriette who had got up, was talking in a half-whisper to -the baron, near one of the windows. - -“He's a charming fellow,” said the baron. - -“Isn't he?” exclaimed she, with the involuntary cry of a woman in love. - -He smiled, and looked at her with a paternal indulgence. This was the -first time he had seen her so completely conquered; and, too proud to -suffer from it, he experienced nothing but a feeling of compassion on -seeing her in the hands of this handsome fellow, so tender and yet so -cold-hearted. He thought he ought to warn her, and murmured in a joking -tone: “Take care, my dear, or he'll eat you all up.” - -A flash of jealousy lighted up Henriette's eyes. Perhaps she understood -Mouret had simply made use of her to get at the baron; and she -determined to render him mad with passion, he whose hurried style of -making love had the easy charm of a song thrown to the four winds of -heaven. “Oh,” said she, affecting to joke in her turn, “the lamb always -finishes up by eating the wolf.” - -The baron, greatly amused, encouraged, her with a nod. Could she be the -woman who was to avenge all the others? - -When Mouret, after having reminded Vallagnosc that he wanted to show him -his machine at work, came up to take his leave, the baron retained him -near the window opposite the gardens, now buried in darkness. He yielded -at last to the seduction; his confidence had come on seeing him in the -midst of these ladies. Both conversed for a moment in a low tone, then -the banker said: “Well, I'll look into the affair. It's settled if your -Monday's sale proves as important as you expect.” - -They shook hands, and Mouret, delighted, took his leave, for he did not -enjoy his dinner unless he went and gave a look at the day's receipts at -The Ladies' Paradise. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -The following Monday, the 10th of October, a clear, victorious sun -pierced the grey clouds which had darkened Paris during the previous -week. It had drizzled all the previous night, a sort of watery mist, the -humidity of which dirtied the streets; but in the early morning, thanks -to the sharp wind which was driving the clouds away, the pavement had -become drier, and the blue sky had a limpid, spring-like gaiety. - -Thus The Ladies' Paradise, after eight o'clock, blazed forth beneath -the clear rays of the sun, in all the glory of its great sale of winter -novelties. Flags were flying at the door, and pieces of woollens were -flapping about in the fresh morning air, animating the Place Gaillon -with the bustle of a country fair; whilst in both streets the windows -developed symphonies of displays, the clearness of the glass showing up -still further the brilliant tones. It was like a debauch of colour, -a street pleasure which burst forth there, a wealth of goods publicly -displayed, where everybody could go and feast their eyes. - -But at this hour very few people entered, only a few rare customers, -housewives of the neighbourhood, women desirous of avoiding the -afternoon crush. Behind the stuffs which decorated it, one could feel -the shop to be empty, under arms and waiting for customers, with its -waxed floors and counters overflowing with goods. - -The busy morning crowd barely glanced at the windows, without lingering -a moment. In the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin and in the Place Gaillon, -where the carriages were to take their stand, there were only two cabs -at nine o'clock. The inhabitants of the district, especially the small -traders, stirred up by such a show of streamers and decorations, formed -little groups in the doorways, at the corners of the streets, gazing at -the shop, making bitter remarks. What most filled them with indignation -was the sight of one of the four delivery vans just introduced by -Mouret, which was standing in the Rue de la Michodière, in front of the -delivery office. They were green, picked out with yellow and red, their -brilliantly varnished panels sparkling in the sun with the brightness -of purple and gold. This van, with its brand-new medley of colours, -the name of the house painted on each side, and surmounted with an -advertisement of the day's sale, finished by going off at a trot, drawn -by a splendid horse, after being filled up with the previous night's -parcels; and Baudu, who was standing on the threshold of The Old Elbeuf, -watched it as far as the boulevard, where it disappeared, to spread all -over Paris in a starry radiance the hated name of The Ladies' Paradise. - -However, a few cabs were arriving and forming a line. - -Every time a customer entered, there was a movement amongst the shop -messengers, who were drawn up under the lofty doorway, dressed in livery -consisting of a light green coat and trousers, and striped red and -yellow waistcoat. Jouve, the inspector and retired captain, was also -there, in a frock-coat and white tie, wearing his decoration like a -sign of respectability and probity, receiving the ladies with a gravely -polite air, bending over them to point out the departments. Then they -disappeared in the vestibule, which was transformed into an oriental -saloon. - -From the very threshold it was a marvel, a surprise, which enchanted all -of them. It was Mouret who had been struck with this idea. He was the -first to buy, in the Levant, at very advantageous rates, a collection of -old and new carpets, articles which up to the present had only been sold -at curiosity shops, at high prices; and he intended to flood the market -with these goods, selling them at a little over cost price, simply -drawing from them a splendid decoration destined to attract the best -class of art customers to his establishment From the centre of the Place -Gaillon could be seen this oriental saloon, composed solely of carpets -and door curtains which had been hung under his orders. The ceiling was -covered with a quantity of Smyrna carpets, the complicated designs of -which stood out boldly on a red ground. Then from each side there hung -Syrian and Karamanian door-curtains, speckled with green, yellow, and -vermilion; Diarbekir door-curtains of a commoner type, rough to the -touch, like shepherds' cloaks; besides these there were carpets which -could be used as door-curtains and hangings--long Ispahan, Teheran, -and Kermancha rugs, the larger Schoumaka and Madras carpets, a strange -florescence of peonies and palms, the fancy let loose in a garden of -dreams. On the floor were more carpets, a heap of greasy fleeces: in the -centre was an Agra carpet, an extraordinary article with a white ground -and a broad delicate blue border, through which ran violet-coloured -ornaments of exquisite design. Everywhere there was an immense display -of marvellous fabrics; Mecca carpets with a velvety reflection, prayer -carpets from Daghestan with a symbolic point, Kurdistan carpets covered -with blossoming flowers; and finally, piled up in a corner, a heap of -Gherdes, Koula, and Kirchur rugs from fifteen francs a piece. - -This sumptuous pacha's tent was furnished with divans and arm-chairs, -made with camel sacks, some ornamented with many-coloured lozenges, -others with primitive roses. Turkey, Arabia, and the Indies were all -there. They had emptied the palaces, plundered the mosques and bazaars. -A barbarous gold tone prevailed in the weft of the old carpets, -the faded tints of which still preserved a sombre warmth, as of an -extinguished furnace, a beautiful burnt hue suggestive of the old -masters. Visions of the East floated beneath the luxury of this -barbarous art, amid the strong odour which the old wools had retained of -the country of vermin and of the rising sun. - -In the morning at eight o'clock, when Denise, who was to commence on -that very Monday, had crossed the oriental saloon, she stood there, -lost in astonishment, unable to recognise the shop entrance, entirely -overcome by this harem-like decoration planted at the door. A messenger -having shown her to the top of the house, and handed her over to Madame -Cabin, who cleaned and looked after the rooms, this person installed -her in No. 7, where her box had already been put. It was a narrow -cell, opening on the roof by a skylight, furnished with a small bed, -a walnut-wood wardrobe, a toilet-table, and two chairs. Twenty similar -rooms ran along the convent-like corridor, painted yellow; and, out of -the thirty-five young ladies in the house, the twenty who had no friends -in Paris slept there, whilst the remaining fifteen lodged outside, a -few with borrowed aunts and cousins. Denise at once took off her shabby -woollen dress, worn thin by brushing and mended at the sleeves, the only -one she had brought from Valognes; she then put on the uniform of her -department, a black silk dress which had been altered for her and which -she found ready on the bed. This dress was still too large, too wide -across the shoulders; but she was so hurried in her emotion that she -paid no heed to these details of coquetry. She had never worn silk -before. When she went downstairs again, dressed up, uncomfortable, she -looked at the shining skirt, feeling ashamed of the noisy rustling of -the silk. - -Down below, as she was entering her department, a quarrel burst out. She -heard Clara say, in a shrill voice: - -“Madame, I came in before her.” - -“It isn't true,” replied Marguerite. “She pushed past me at the door, -but I had already one foot in the room.” - -It was for the inscription on the list of turns, which regulated the -sales. The saleswomen wrote their names on a slate in the order of their -arrival, and whenever one of them had served a customer, she re-wrote -her name beneath the others. Madame Aurélie finished by deciding in -Marguerite's favour. - -“Always some injustice here!” muttered Clara, furiously. But Denise's -entry reconciled these young ladies. They looked at her, then smiled to -each other. How could a person truss herself up in that way! The young -girl went and awkwardly wrote her name on the list, where she found -herself last. Meanwhile, Madame Aurélie was examining her with an -anxious face. She could not help saying: - -“My dear, two like you could get into your dress; you must have it taken -in. Besides, you don't know how to dress yourself. Come here and let me -arrange you a bit.” - -And she placed herself before one of the tall glasses alternating with -the doors of the cupboards containing the dresses. The vast apartment, -surrounded by these glasses and the wood-work in carved oak, the -floor covered with red Wilton carpet of a large pattern, resembled the -commonplace drawing-room of an hotel, traversed by a continual stream of -travellers. The young ladies completed the resemblance, dressed in the -regulation silk, promenading their commercial charms about, without ever -sitting down on the dozen chairs reserved for the customers. All wore -between two buttonholes of the body of their dresses, as if stuck in -their bosoms, a long pencil, with its point in the air; and half out of -their pockets, could be seen the white cover of the book of debit-notes. -Several risked wearing jewellery--rings, brooches, chains; but their -great coquetry, the luxury they all struggled for in the forced -uniformity of their dress, was their bare hair, quantities of it, -augmented by plaits and chignons when their own did not suffice, combed, -curled, and decked out in every way. - -“Pull the waist down in front,” said Madame Aurélie. “There, you have -now no hump on your back. And your hair, how can you massacre it like -that? It would be superb, if you only took a little trouble.” - -This was, in fact, Denise's only beauty. Of a beautiful flaxen hue, it -fell down to her ankles; and when she did it up, it was so troublesome -that she simply rolled it in a knot, keeping it together under the -strong teeth of a bone comb. Clara, greatly annoyed by this head of -hair, affected to laugh at it, so strange did it look, twisted up anyhow -in its savage grace. She made a sign to a saleswoman in the under-linen -department, a girl with a large face and agreeable manner. The two -departments, which were close together, were in continual hostility; but -the young ladies sometimes joined together in laughing at other people. - -“Mademoiselle Cugnot, just look at that mane,” said Clara, whom -Marguerite was nudging, feigning also to be on the point of bursting out -laughing. - -But Mademoiselle Cugnot was not in the humour for joking. She had been -looking at Denise for a moment, and she remembered what she had suffered -herself during the first few months of her arrival in the establishment. - -“Well, what?” said she. “Everybody hasn't got a mane like that!” - -And she returned to her place, leaving the two others very crestfallen. -Denise, who had heard all, followed her with a look of thanks, while -Madame Aurélie gave our heroine a book of debit-notes with her name on -it, saying: “To-morrow you'll get yourself up better; and, now, try and -pick up the ways of the house, wait your turn for selling. To-day's -work will be very hard; we shall be able to judge of your capabilities.” - However, the department still remained deserted; very few customers came -up at this early hour. The young ladies reserved themselves, prudently -preparing for the fatigues of the afternoon. Denise, intimidated by the -thought that they were watching her, sharpened her pencil, for the sake -of something to do; then, imitating the others, she stuck it into -her bosom, between two buttonholes, and summoned up all her courage, -determined to conquer a position. The previous evening they had told her -she entered as a probationer, that is to say without any fixed salary; -she would simply have the commission and a certain allowance on -everything she sold. But she fully hoped to earn twelve hundred francs a -year in this way, knowing that the good saleswomen earned as much as -two thousand, when they liked to take the trouble. Her expenses were -regulated; a hundred francs a month would enable her to pay Pépé's -board and lodging, assist Jean, who did not earn a sou, and procure some -clothes and linen for herself. But, in order to attain this large sum, -she would have to show herself industrious and pushing, taking no notice -of the ill-will displayed by those around her, fighting for her share, -even snatching it from her comrades if necessary. As she was thus -working herself up for the struggle, a tall young man, passing the -department, smiled at her; and when she saw it was Deloche, who had been -engaged in the lace department the previous day, she returned his smile, -happy at the friendship which thus presented itself, accepting this -smile as a good omen. - -At half-past nine a bell rang for the first luncheon. Then a fresh peal -announced the second; and still no customers appeared. The second-hand, -Madame Frédéric, who, in her disagreeable widow's harshness, delighted -in prophesying disasters, declared in short sentences that the day -was lost, that they would not see a soul, that they might close the -cupboards and go away; predictions which darkened Marguerite's flat -face, she being a girl who looked sharp after her profits, whilst Clara, -with her runaway-horse appearance, was already dreaming of an excursion -to the Verrières woods, if the house failed. As for Madame Aurélie, she -was there, silent and serious, promenading her Cæsar-like mask about -the empty department, like a general who has a certain responsibility -in victory and in defeat. About eleven o'clock a few ladies appeared. -Denise's turn for serving had arrived. Just at that moment a customer -came up. - -“The fat old girl from the country,” murmured Marguerite. - -It was a woman of forty-five, who occasionally journeyed to Paris from -the depths of some out-of-the-way place. There she saved up for months; -then, hardly out of the train, she made straight for The Ladies' -Paradise, and spent all her savings. She very rarely ordered anything -by letter, she liked to see and handle the goods, and laid in a stock of -everything, even down to needles, which she said were excessively dear -in her small town. The whole staff knew her, that her name was Boutarel, -and that she lived at Albi, but troubled no further about her, neither -about her position nor her mode of life. - -“How do you do, madame?” graciously asked Madame Aurélie, who had come -forward. “And what can we show you? You shall be attended to at once.” - Then, turning round: “Now, young ladies!” - -Denise approached; but Clara had sprung forward. As a rule, she was very -careless and idle, not caring about the money she earned in the shop, as -she could get plenty outside, without trouble. But the idea of doing the -new-comer out of a good customer spurred her on. - -“I beg your pardon, it's my turn,” said Denise, indignantly. Madame -Aurélie set her aside with a severe look, saying: “There are no turns. -I alone am mistress here. Wait till you know, before serving our regular -customers.” - -The young girl retired, and as the tears were coming in her eyes, and -she wished to conceal this excess of sensibility, she turned her back, -standing up before the window, pretending to be looking into the street. -Were they going to prevent her selling? Would they all arrange together -to deprive her of the important sales, like that? A fear for the future -seized her, she felt herself crushed between so many interests let -loose. Yielding to the bitterness of her abandonment, her forehead -against the cold glass, she gazed at The Old Elbeuf opposite, thinking -she ought to have implored her uncle to keep her. Perhaps he himself -regretted his decision, for he seemed to her greatly affected the -previous evening. Now she was quite alone in this vast house, where no -one liked her, where she found herself hurt, lost. Pépé and Jean, who -had never left her side, were living with strangers; it was a cruel -separation, and the big tears which she kept back made the street dance -in a sort of fog. All this time, the hum of voices continued behind her. - -“This one makes me look a fright,” Madame Boutarel was saying. - -“You really make a mistake, madame,” said Clara; “the shoulders fit -perfectly--but perhaps you would prefer a pelisse to a mantle?” - -But Denise started. A hand was laid on her arm. Madame Aurélie addressed -her severely: - -“Well, you're doing nothing now--eh? only looking at the people passing. -Things can't go on this way, you know!” - -“But they prevent me selling, madame.” - -“Oh, there's other work for you, mademoiselle! Begin at the beginning. -Do the folding-up.” - -In order to please the few customers who had called, they had been -obliged to ransack all the cupboards, and on the two long oaken tables, -to the right and the left, were heaps of mantles, pelisses, and capes, -garments of all sizes and all materials. Without replying, Denise set -about sorting them, folding them carefully and arranging them again -in the cupboards. This was the lowest work, generally performed by -beginners. She ceased to protest, knowing that they required the -strictest obedience, waiting till the first hand should be good enough -to let her sell, as she seemed at first to have the intention of doing. -She was still folding, when Mouret appeared on the scene. This was a -violent shock for her; she blushed without knowing why, she felt herself -invaded by a strange fear, thinking he was going to speak to her. But he -did not even see her; he no longer remembered this little girl whom the -charming impression of an instant had induced him to support. - -“Madame Aurélie,” called he in a brief voice. - -He was rather pale, but his eyes were clear and resolute. In making the -tour of the departments he had found them empty, and the possibility -of a defeat had suddenly presented itself in the midst of his obstinate -faith in fortune. True, it was only eleven o'clock; he knew by -experience that the crowd never arrived much before the afternoon. But -certain symptoms troubled him. At the previous sales, a general movement -had taken place from the morning even; besides he did not see any of -those bareheaded women, customers living in the neighbourhood, who -usually dropped into his shop as into a neighbour's. Like all great -captains, he felt at the moment of giving battle a superstitious -weakness, notwithstanding his habitually resolute attitude. Things would -not go on well, he was lost, and he could not have explained why; he -thought he could read his defeat on the faces of the passing ladies -even. - -Just at that moment, Madame Boutarel, she who always bought something, -was going away, saying: “No, you have nothing that pleases me. I'll see, -I'll decide later on.” - -Mouret watched her depart. Then, as Madame Aurélie ran up at his call, -he took her aside, and they exchanged a few rapid words. She wore a -despairing air, and was evidently admitting that things were looking -bad. For a moment they remained face to face, seized with one of those -doubts which generals conceal from their soldiers. Ultimately he said -out loud in his brave way: “If you want assistance, understand, take a -girl from the workroom. She'll be a little help to you.” - -He continued his inspection in despair. He had avoided Bourdoncle -all the morning, for his anxious doubts irritated him. On leaving the -under-linen department, where business was still worse, he dropped right -on to him, and was obliged to submit to the expression of his fears. He -did not hesitate to send him to the devil, with a brutality that even -his principal employees came in for when things were looking bad. - -“Get out of my way!” said he. “Everything is going on all right. I shall -end by pitching out the tremblers.” - -Mouret planted himself alone on the landing of the hall-staircase. From -there he commanded the whole shop; around him the departments on the -first-floor; beneath, those of the ground-floor. Above, the emptiness -seemed heart-breaking; in the lace department, an old woman was having -everything turned over and buying nothing; whilst three good-for-nothing -minxes in the under-linen department were slowly choosing some collars -at eighteen sous. Down below, under the covered galleries, in the ray of -light which came in from the street, he noticed that the customers were -commencing to get more numerous. It was a slow, broken procession, -a promenade before the counters; in the mercery and the haberdashery -departments some women of the commoner class were pushing about, but -there was hardly a customer in the linen or in the woollen departments. -The shop messengers, in their green coats, the buttons of which shone -brilliantly, were waiting for customers, their hands dangling about. Now -and again there passed an inspector with a ceremonious air, very stiff -in his white neck-tie. Mouret was especially grieved by the mortal -silence which reigned in the hall, where the light fell from above from -a ground glass window, showing a white dust, diffuse and suspended, as -it were, under which the silk department seemed to be sleeping, amid -a shivering religious silence. A shopman's footstep, a few whispered -words, the rustling of a passing skirt, were the only noises heard, -and they were almost stifled by the hot air of the heating apparatus. -However, carriages began to arrive, the sudden piffling up of the horses -was heard, and immediately after the banging of the carriage doors. -Outside, a distant tumult was commencing to make itself heard, groups of -idlers were pushing in front of the windows, cabs were taking up their -positions in the Place Gaillon, there were all the appearances of an -approaching crowd. But on seeing the idle cashiers leaning back on their -chairs behind their wickets, and observing that the parcel-tables -with their boxes of string and reams of blue packing-paper remained -unoccupied, Mouret, though indignant with himself for being afraid, -thought he felt his immense machine stop and turn cold beneath him. - -“I say, Favier,” murmured Hutin, “look at the governor up there. He -doesn't seem to be enjoying himself.” - -“This is a rotten shop!” replied Favier. “Just fancy, I've not sold a -thing yet.” - -Both of them, waiting for customers, whispered such short remarks from -time to time without looking at each other. The other salesmen of the -department were occupied in arranging large bales of the Paris Paradise -under Robineau's orders; whilst Bouthemont, in full consultation with a -thin young woman, seemed to be taking an important order. Around them, -on frail and elegant shelves, the silks, folded in long pieces of -creamy paper, were heaped up like pamphlets of an unusual size; and, -encumbering the counters, were fancy silks, moires, satins, velvets, -presenting the appearance of mown flowers, quite a harvest of delicate -precious tissues. This was the most elegant of all the departments, a -veritable drawingroom, where the goods, so light and airy, were nothing -but a luxurious furnishing. - -“I must have a hundred francs by Sunday,” said Hutin. “If I don't make -an average of twelve francs a day, I'm lost. I'd reckoned on this sale.” - -“By Jovel a hundred francs; that's rather stiff,” said Favier. “I only -want fifty or sixty. You must go in for swell women, then?” - -“Oh, no, my dear fellow. It's a stupid affair; I made a bet and lost. So -I have to stand a dinner for five persons, two fellows and three girls. -Hang me! the first one that passes I'll let her in for twenty yards of -Paris Paradise!” - -They continued talking for several minutes, relating what they had done -the previous day, and what they intended to do the next week. Favier -did a little betting, Hutin did a little boating, and kept music-hall -singers. But they were both possessed by the same desire for money, -struggling for it all the week, and spending it all on Sunday. It was -their sole preoccupation in the shop, an hourly and pitiless struggle. -And that cunning Bouthemont had just managed to get hold of Madame -Sauveur's messenger, the skinny woman with whom he was talking! good -business, three or four dozen pieces, at least, for the celebrated -dressmaker always gave good orders. At that moment Robineau took it into -his head to do Favier out of a customer. - -“Oh! as for that fellow, we must settle up with him,” said Hutin, who -took advantage of the slightest thing in order to stir up the salesmen -against the man whose place he coveted. - -“Ought the first and second hands to sell? My word of honour! my dear -fellow, if ever I become second you'll see how well I shall act with the -others.” - -And all his little Norman person, so fat and jolly, played the -good-natured man energetically. Favier could not help casting a side -glance towards him, but he preserved his phlegmatical air, contenting -himself with replying: “Yes, I know. I should be only too pleased.” - Then, as a lady came up, he added in a lower tone: “Look out! Here's one -for you.” - -It was a lady with a blotchy face, a yellow bonnet, and a red dress. -Hutin immediately recognised in her a woman who would buy nothing. -He quickly stooped behind the counter, pretending to be doing up his -boot-lace; and, thus concealed, he murmured: “No fear, let some one else -take her. I don't want to lose my turn!” - -However, Robineau called out: “Whose turn, gentlemen? Monsieur Hutin's? -Where's Monsieur Hutin?” - -And as this gentleman still gave no reply, it was the next salesman who -served the lady with the blotches. Hutin was right, she simply wanted -some samples with the prices; and she kept the salesman more than ten -minutes, overwhelming him with questions. However, Robineau had seen -Hutin get up from behind the counter; so that when another customer -arrived, he interfered with a stern air, stopping the young man, who was -rushing forward. - -“Your turn is passed. I called you, and as you were there behind----” - -“But I didn't hear you, sir.” - -“That'll do! Write your name at the bottom. Now, Monsieur Favier, it's -your turn.” - -Favier, greatly amused at heart at this adventure, threw a glance at his -friend, as if to excuse himself. Hutin, with pale lips, had turned his -head away. What enraged him was that he knew the customer very well, -an adorable blonde who often came to their department, and whom the -salesmen called amongst themselves “the pretty lady,” knowing nothing of -her, not even her name. She bought a great deal, had her purchases taken -to her carriage, and immediately disappeared. Tall, elegant, dressed -with exquisite taste, she appeared to be very rich, and to belong to the -best society. - -“Well! and your courtesan?” asked Hutin of Favier, when the latter -returned from the pay-desk, where he had accompanied the lady. - -“Oh! a courtesan!” replied the other. “I fancy she looks too lady-like -for that. She must be the wife of a stockbroker or a doctor, or -something of that sort.” - -“Don't tell me! it's a courtesan. With their grand lady airs it's -impossible to tell now-a-days!” - -Favier looked at his book of debit-notes. “I don't care!” said he, “I've -stuck her for two hundred and ninety-three francs. That makes nearly -three francs for me.” - -Hutin bit his lips, and vented his spleen on the debit notebooks. -Another invention for cramming their pockets. There was a secret rivalry -between these two. Favier, as a rule, pretended to sing small, to -recognise Hutin's superiority, but in reality devouring him all the -while behind his back. Thus Hutin was wild at the thought of the three -francs pocketed so easily by a salesman whom he considered to be his -inferior in business. A fine day's work! If it went on like this, he -would not earn enough to pay for the seltzer water for his guests. And -in the midst of the battle, which was now becoming fiercer, he walked -along the counters with hungry eyes, eager for his share, jealous even -of his superior, who was just showing the thin young woman out, and -saying to her: - -“Very well! it's understood. Tell her I'll do my best to obtain this -favour from Monsieur Mouret.” - -Mouret had quitted his post on the stairs some time before. Suddenly he -reappeared on the landing of the principal staircase which communicated -with the ground floor; and from there he commanded a view of the whole -establishment. His face had regained its colour, his faith was restored -and increasing before the crowd which was gradually filling the place. -It was the expected rush at last, the afternoon crush, which he had for -a moment despaired of. All the shopmen were at their posts, a last ring -of the bell had announced the end of the third lunch; the disastrous -morning, due no doubt to a shower which fell about nine o'clock, could -still be repaired, for the blue sky of early morn had resumed its -victorious gaiety. Now that the first-floor departments were becoming -animated, he was obliged to stand back to make way for the women who -were going up to the under-clothing and dress departments; whilst, -behind him, in the lace and the shawl departments, he heard large -sums bandied about. But the sight of the galleries on the ground-floor -especially reassured him. There was a crowd at the haberdashery -department, and even the linen and woollen departments were invaded. The -procession of buyers closed up, nearly all of a higher class at present, -with a few lingering housewives. Under the pale light of the silk hall, -ladies had taken off their gloves to feel the Paris Paradise, talking in -half-whispers. And there was no longer any mistaking the noises arriving -from outside, rolling of cabs, banging of carriage-doors, an increasing -tumult in the crowd. He felt the machine commencing to work under him, -getting up steam and reviving, from the pay-desks where the money was -jingling, and the tables where the messengers were hurriedly packing up -the goods, down to the basement, in the delivery-room, which was quickly -filling up with the parcels sent down, and the underground rumbling of -which seemed to shake the whole house. In the midst of the crowd was the -inspector, Jouve, walking about gravely, watching for thieves. - -“Hullo! is that you?” said Mouret, all at once, recognising Paul de -Vallagnosc whom a messenger had conducted to him. “No, no, you are -not in my way. Besides, you've only to follow me if you want to see -everything, for to-day I stay at the breach.” - -He still felt anxious. No doubt there were plenty of people, but would -the sale prove to be the triumph he hoped for? However, he laughed with -Paul, carrying him off gaily. - -“It seems to be picking up a bit,” said Hutin to Favier. “But somehow -I've no luck; there are some days that are precious bad, my word! I've -just made another miss, that old frump hasn't bought anything.” - -And he glanced towards a lady who was walking off, casting looks of -disgust at all the goods. He was not likely to get fat on his thousand -francs a year, unless he sold something; as a rule he made seven or -eight francs a day commission, which gave him with his regular pay an -average of ten francs a day. Favier never made much more than eight, and -there was this animal taking the bread out of his mouth, for he had just -sold another dress--a cold-natured fellow who had never known how to -amuse a customer! It was exasperating. - -“Those chaps over there seem to be doing very well,” remarked Favier, -speaking of the salesmen in the hosiery and haberdashery departments. - -But Hutin, who was looking all round the place, suddenly asked: “Do you -know Madame Desforges, the governor's sweetheart? Look! that dark woman -in the glove department, who is having some gloves tried on by Mignot.” - He stopped, then resumed in a low tone, as if speaking to Mignot, on -whom he continued to keep his eyes: “Oh, go on, old man, you may pull -her fingers about as much as you like, that won't do you any good! We -know your conquests!” - -There was a rivalry between himself and the glove-man, the rivalry -of two handsome fellows, who both affected to flirt with the -lady-customers. As a matter of fact they had neither had any real -conquests to boast about. Mignot lived on the legend of a police -superintendent's wife who had fallen in love with him, whilst Hutin had -really conquered a lace-maker who had got tired of wandering about in -the doubtful hotels in the neighbourhood; but they invented a lot -of mysterious adventures, leading people to believe in all sorts of -appointments made by titled ladies, between two purchases. - -“You should get hold of her,” said Favier, in his sly, artful way. - -“That's a good idea!” exclaimed Hutin. “If she comes here I'll let her -in for something extensive; I want a five-franc piece!” - -In the glove department quite a row of ladies were seated before the -narrow counter covered with green velvet and edged with nickel silver; -and the smiling shopmen were heaping up before them the flat boxes of a -bright red, taken out of the counter itself, and resembling the ticketed -drawers of a secrétaire. Mignot especially was bending his pretty -doll-like face over his customer, his thick Parisian voice full of -tender inflections. He had already sold Madame Desforges a dozen pairs -of kid gloves, the Paradise gloves, one of the specialities of the -house. She then took three pairs of Swedish, and was now trying on some -Saxon gloves, for fear the size should not be exact. - -“Oh! quite perfect, madame!” repeated Mignot. “Six and a quarter would -be too large for a hand like yours.” - -Half lying on the counter, he was holding her hand, taking the fingers -one by one, slipping the glove on with a long, renewed, and persistently -caressing air, looking at her as if he expected to see in her face -the signs of a voluptuous joy. But she, with her elbow on the velvet -counter, her wrist raised, gave him her fingers with the unconcerned -air with which she gave her foot to her maid to allow her to button her -boot. For her he was not a man; she employed him for such private work -with the familiar disdain she showed for the people in her service, -without looking at him even. - -“I don't hurt you, madame?” - -She replied “No,” with a shake of the head. The smell of the Saxon -gloves--that savage smell as of sugared musk--troubled her as a rule; -and she sometimes laughed about it, confessing her taste for this -equivocal perfume, in which there is a suspicion of the wild beast -fallen into some girl's powder-box. But seated at this commonplace -counter she did not notice the smell of the gloves, it raised no sensual -feeling between her and this salesman doing his work. - -“And what next, madame?” - -“Nothing, thanks. Be good enough to carry the parcel to the pay-desk No. -10, for Madame Desforges.” - -Being a constant customer, she gave her name at a pay-desk, and had each -purchase sent there without wanting a shopman to follow her. When she -had gone away, Mignot turned towards his neighbour and winked, and would -have liked him to believe that wonderful things had just taken place. -“By Jove! I'd like to dress her all over!” said he, coarsely. Meanwhile, -Madame Desforges continued her purchases. She turned to the left, -stopping in the linen department to procure some dusters; then she -walked round the shop, going as far as the woollen department at the -further end of the gallery. As she was satisfied with her cook, -she wanted to make her a present of a dress. The woollen department -overflowed with a compact crowd, all the lower middle-class women were -there, feeling the stuff, absorbed in mute calculations; and she was -obliged to sit down for a moment. The shelves were piled up with great -rolls of stuff which the salesmen were taking down one by one, with a -sudden pull. They were beginning to get confused with these encumbered -counters, on which the stuffs were mixing up and tumbling over each -other. It was a rising tide of neutral tints, heavy woollen tones, -iron-greys, and blue-greys, with here and there a Scotch tartan, and a -blood-red ground of flannel breaking out. And the white tickets on -the pieces were like a shower of rare white flakes falling on a black -December soil. - -Behind a pile of poplin, Liénard was joking with a tall girl without hat -or bonnet, a work-girl, sent by her mistress to match some merino. -He detested these big-sale days, which tired him to death, and he -endeavoured to shirk his work, getting plenty of money from his father, -not caring a fig about the business, doing just enough to avoid being -dismissed. - -“Listen to me, Mademoiselle Fanny,” he was saying; “you are always in -a hurry. Did the striped vicugna do the other day? I shall come and see -you, and ask for my commission.” But the girl escaped, laughing, and -Liénard found himself before Madame Desforges, whom he could not help -asking: “What can I serve you with, madame?” - -She wanted a dress, not too dear but yet strong. Liénard, with the view -of sparing his arms, which was his principal care, manoeuvred to make -her take one of the stuffs already unfolded on the counter. There were -cashmeres, serges, vicugnas, and he declared that there was nothing -better to be had, they never wore out. But none of these seemed to -satisfy her. On one of the shelves she had observed a blue serge, which -she wished to see. He made up his mind at last, and took down the -roll, but she thought it too rough. Then he showed her a cheviot, some -diagonal, some greys, every sort of woollens, which she felt out of -curiosity, for the pleasure of doing so, decided at heart to take -no matter what. The young man was thus obliged to empty the highest -shelves; his shoulders cracked, the counter had disappeared under the -silky grain of the cashmeres and poplins, the rough nap of the cheviot, -and the tufty down of the vicugna; there were samples of every material -and every tint. Though she had not the least wish to buy any, she asked -to see some grenadine and some Chambéry gauze. Then, when she had seen -enough, she said: - -“Oh! after all, the first is the best; it's for my cook. Yes, the serge, -the one at two francs.” And when Liénard had measured it, pale with -suppressed anger, she added: “Have the goodness to carry that to -pay-desk No. 10, for Madame Desforges.” Just as she was going away, -she recognised Madame Marty close to her, accompanied by her daughter -Valentine, a tall girl of fourteen, thin and bold, who was already -casting a woman's covetous looks on the goods. - -“Ah! it's you, dear madame?” - -“Yes, dear madame; what a crowd--eh?” - -“Oh! don't speak of it, it's stifling. And such a success! Have you seen -the oriental saloon?” - -“Superb--wonderful!” - -And amidst the pushing and crushing of the growing crowd of modest -purses eagerly seeking the cheap lines in the woollen goods, they -went into ecstasies over the exhibition of carpets. Then Madame Marty -explained she was looking for some material for a mantle; but she was -not quite decided; she wanted to see some check patterns. - -“Look, mamma,” murmured Valentine, “it's too common.” - -“Come to the silk department,” said Madame Desforges, “you must see -their famous Paris Paradise.” - -Madame Marty hesitated for a moment. It would be very dear, and she had -faithfully promised her husband to be careful! She had been buying for -an hour, quite a pile of articles were following her already: a muff and -some cuffs and collars for herself, some stockings for her daughter. She -finished by saying to the shopman who was showing her the checks: - -“Well--no; I'm going to the silk department; you've nothing to suit me.” - -The shopman took the articles and walked before the ladies. In the silk -department there was also a crowd, the principal crush being opposite -the inside display, arranged by Hutin, and to which Mouret had given the -finishing touches. It was at the further end of the hall, around one -of the small wrought-iron columns which supported the glass roof, a -veritable torrent of stuffs, a puffy sheet falling from, above and -spreading out? down to the floor. At first stood out the light satins -and tender silks, the satins _à la Reine_ and Renaissance, with -the pearly tones of spring water; light silks, transparent as -crystals--Nile-green, Indian-azure, May-rose, and Danube-blue. Then -came the stronger fabrics: marvellous satins, duchess silks, warm tints, -rolling in great waves; and right at the bottom, as in a fountain-basin, -reposed the heavy stuffs, the figured silks, the damasks, brocades, -and lovely silvered silks in the midst of a deep bed of velvet of every -sort--black, white, and coloured--skilfully disposed on silk and satin -grounds, hollowing out with their medley of colours a still lake in -which the reflex of the sky seemed to be dancing. The women, pale with -desire, bent over as if to look at themselves. And before this falling -cataract they all remained standing, with the secret fear of being -carried away by the irruption of such luxury, and with the irresistible -desire to jump in amidst it and be lost. - -“Here you are, then!” said Madame Desforges, on finding Madame -Bourdelais installed before a counter. - -“Ah! good-morning!” replied the latter, shaking hands with the ladies. -“Yes, I've come to have a look.” - -“What a prodigious exhibition! It's like a dream. And the oriental -saloon! Have you seen the oriental saloon?” - -“Yes, yes; extraordinary!” - -But beneath this enthusiasm, which was to be decidedly the fashionable -note of the day, Madame Bourdelais retained her practical housekeeper's -coolness. She was carefully examining a piece of Paris Paradise, for -she had come on purpose to take advantage of the exceptional cheapness -of this silk, if she found it really advantageous. She was doubtless -satisfied with it, for she took twenty-five yards, hoping it would be -sufficient to make a dress for herself and a cloak for her little girl. - -“What! you are going already?” resumed Madame Desforges. “Take a walk -round with us.” - -“No, thanks; they are waiting for me at home. I didn't like to risk -bringing the children into this crowd.” - -And she went away, preceded by the salesman carrying * the twenty-five -yards of silk, and who led her to pay-desk No. 10, where young Albert -was getting confused with all the demands for bills with which he was -besieged. When the salesman was able to approach, after having inscribed -his sale on the debit-note, he called out the item, which the cashier -entered in a register; then it was checked over, and the leaf torn -off the salesman's book of debit-notes was stuck on a file near the -receipting stamp. - -“One hundred and forty francs,” said Albert. - -Madame Bourdelais paid and gave her address, for having come on foot she -did not wish to be troubled with a parcel. Joseph had already got the -silk behind the pay-desk, and was tying it up; and the parcel, thrown -into a basket on wheels, was sent down to the delivery department, where -all the goods in the shop seemed to be swallowed up with a sluice-like -noise. - -Meanwhile, the block was becoming so great in the silk department that -Madame Desforges and Madame Marty could not at first find a salesman -disengaged. They remained standing, mingling with the crowd of ladies -who were looking at the silks and feeling them, staying there hours -without making up their minds. But the Paris Paradise was a great -success; around it pressed one of those crowds which decides the fortune -of a fashion in a day. A host of shopmen were engaged in measuring off -this silk; one could see, above the customers' heads, the pale glimmer -of the unfolded pieces, in the continual coming and going of the fingers -along the oak yard measures hanging from brass rods; one could hear the -noise of the scissors cutting the silk, without ceasing, as the sale -went on, as if there were not enough shopmen to suffice for all the -greedy outstretched hands of the customers. - -“It really isn't bad for five francs twelve sous,” said Madame -Desforges, who had succeeded in getting hold of a piece at the edge of -the table. - -Madame Marty and her daughter experienced a disappointment. The -newspapers had said so much about it, that they had expected something -stronger and more brilliant. But Bouthemont had just recognised Madame -Desforges, and in order to get in the good graces of such a handsome -lady, who was supposed to be all-powerful with the governor, he came up, -with his rather coarse amiability. What! no one was serving her! it was -unpardonable! He begged her to be indulgent, for really they did not -know which way to turn. And he went to look for some chairs amongst the -neighbouring skirts, laughing with his good-natured laugh, full of a -brutal love for the sex, which did not seem to displease Henrietta. - -“I say,” murmured Favier, on going to take some velvet from a shelf -behind Hutin, “there's Bouthemont making up to your mash.” - -Hutin had forgotten Madame Desforges, beside himself with rage with an -old lady, who, after having kept him a quarter of an hour, had finished -by buying a yard of black satin for a pair of stays. In the busy moments -they took no notice of the turns, each salesman served the customers as -they arrived. And he was answering Madame Boutarel, who was finishing -her afternoon at The Ladies' Paradise, where she had already spent three -hours in the morning, when Favier's warning made him start. Was he going -to miss the governor's friend, from whom he had sworn to draw a five -franc piece? That would be the height of ill-luck, for he hadn't made -three francs as yet with all those other chignons who were mooning about -the place! Bouthemont was just then calling out loudly: - -“Come, gentlemen, some one this way!” - -Hutin passed Madame Boutarel over to Robineau, who was doing nothing. - -“Here's the second-hand, madame. He will answer you better than I can.” - -And he rushed off to take Madame Marty's purchases from the woollen -salesman who had accompanied the ladies. That day a nervous excitement -must have troubled his delicate scent. As a rule, the first glance told -him if a customer would buy, and how much. Then he domineered over the -customer, he hastened to serve her to pass on to another, imposing -his choice on her, persuading her that he knew best what material she -wanted. - -“What sort of silk, madame?” asked he in his most gallant manner. Madame -Desforges had no sooner opened her mouth than he added: “I know, I've -got just what you want.” - -When the piece of Paris Paradise was unfolded on a narrow corner of the -counter, between heaps of other silks, Madame Marty and her daughter -approached. Hutin, rather anxious, understood that it was at first a -question of serving these two. Whispered words were exchanged, Madame -Desforges was advising her friend. - -“Oh! certainly,” murmured she. “A silk at five francs twelve sous will -never be equal to one at fifteen, or even ten.” - -“It is very light,” repeated Madame Marty. “I'm afraid that it has not -sufficient body for a mantle.” - -This remarked induced the salesman to intervene. He smiled with the -exaggerated politeness of a man who cannot make a mistake. - -“But, madame, flexibility is the chief quality of this silk. It will not -crumple. It's exactly what you want.” - -Impressed by such an assurance, the ladies said no more. They had taken -the silk up, and were examining it again, when they felt a touch on -their shoulders. It was Madame Guibal, who had been slowly walking about -the shop for an hour past, feasting her eyes on the heaped-up riches, -without buying even a yard of calico. And there was another explosion of -gossip. - -“What! Is that you?” - -“Yes, it's me, rather knocked about though.” - -“What a crowd--eh? One can't get about. And the oriental saloon?” - -“Ravishing!” - -“Good heavens! what a success! Stay a moment, we will go upstairs -together.” - -“No, thanks, I've just come down.” - -Hutin was waiting, concealing his impatience with a smile that did not -quit his lips. Were they going to keep him there long? Really the women -took things very coolly, it was like taking his money out of his pocket. -At last Madame Guibal went away and continued her stroll, turning round -the splendid display of silks with an enraptured air. - -“If I were you I should buy the mantle ready-made,” said Madame -Desforges, suddenly returning to the Paris Paradise. “It won't cost you -so much.” - -“It's true that the trimmings and making-up----” murmured Madame Marty. -“Besides, one has more choice.” - -All three had risen. Madame Desforges turned to Hutin, saying: “Have the -goodness to show us to the ready-made department.” - -He remained dumbfoundered, not being used to such defeats. What! the -dark lady bought nothing! Had he then made a mistake? He abandoned -Madame Marty and attacked Madame Desforges, trying his powerful -abilities as salesman on her. - -“And you, madame, would you not like to see our satins, our velvets? We -have some extraordinary bargains.” - -“Thanks, another time,” replied she coolly, not looking at him any more -than she had at Mignot. - -Hutin had to take up Madame Marty's purchases and walk before the ladies -to show them to the ready-made department But he had also the grief -of seeing that Robineau was selling Madame Boutarel a good quantity of -silk. Decidedly his scent was playing him false, he wouldn't make four -sous. Beneath the amiable correctness of his manners there was the rage -of a man being robbed and swallowed up by the others. - -“On the first floor, ladies,” said he, without ceasing to smile. - -It was no easy matter to get to the staircase. A compact crowd of heads -was surging under the galleries, expanding like an overflowing river -into the middle of the hall. Quite a battle of business was going on, -the salesmen had this population of women at their mercy, passing them -from one to the other with feverish haste. The moment of the formidable -afternoon rush had arrived, when the over-heated machine led the dance -of customers, drawing the money from their very flesh. In the silk -department especially a breath of folly seemed to pervade all, the Paris -Paradise collected such a crowd that for several minutes Hutin could not -advance a step; and Henriette, half-suffocated, having raised her eyes, -beheld Mouret at the top of the stairs, his favourite position, from -which he could see the victory. She smiled, hoping that he would come -down and extricate her. But he did not even recognise her in the crowd; -he was still with Vallagnosc, showing him the house, his face beaming -with triumph. - -The trepidation within was now stifling all outside noise; one no -longer heard the rumbling of the vehicles, nor the banging of the -carriage-doors; nothing remained above the vast murmur of business but -the sentiment of this enormous Paris, of such immensity that it would -always furnish buyers. In the heavy still air, in which the fumes of the -heating apparatus warmed the odour of the stuffs, the hubbub increased, -made up of all sorts of noises, of the continual walking about, of the -same phrases, a hundred times repeated around the counters, of the gold -jingling on the brass of the pay-desks, besieged by a legion of purses, -and of the baskets on wheels loaded with parcels which were constantly -disappearing into the gaping cellars. And, amidst the fine dust, -everything finished by getting mixed up, it became impossible to -recognise the divisions of the different departments; the haberdashery -department over there seemed drowned; further on, in the linen -department, a ray of sunshine, entering by the window in the Rue -Neuve-Saint-Augustin, was like a golden dart in a heap of snow; close -by, in the glove and woollen departments, a dense mass of bonnets and -chignons hid the background of the shop from view. The toilettes were -no longer visible, the head-dresses alone appeared, decked with feathers -and ribbons. - -A few men's hats introduced here and there a black spot, whilst -the women's pale complexions assumed in the fatigue and heat the -transparencies of the camellia. At last, Hutin--thanks to his vigorous -elbows--was able to open a way for the ladies, by keeping in front of -them. But on ascending the stairs, Henriette could not find Mouret, -who had just plunged Vallagnosc right into the crowd to complete his -bewilderment, himself feeling the physical want of a dip into this bath -of success. He lost his breath deliciously, he felt against his limbs a -sort of caress from all his customers. - -“To the left, ladies,” said Hutin, still attentive, notwithstanding his -increasing exasperation. - -Up above there was the same block. It invaded even the furnishing -department, usually the quietest. The shawl, the fur, and the -under-clothing departments swarmed with people. As the ladies were -crossing the lace department another meeting took place. Madame de Boves -was there with her daughter Blanche, both buried in the articles Deloche -was showing them. And Hutin had to make another halt, bundle in hand. - -“Good afternoon! I was just thinking of you.” - -“I've been looking for you myself. But how can you expect to find any -one in this crowd?” - -“It's magnificent, isn't it?” - -“Dazzling, my dear. We can hardly stand.” - -“And you're buying?” - -“Oh! no, we're only looking round. It rests us a little to be seated.” - -As a fact, Madame de Boves, scarcely possessing more than her cab-fare -in her purse, was having all sorts of laces handed down, simply for the -pleasure of seeing and handling them. She had guessed Deloche to be -a new salesman, slow and awkward, who dared not resist the customers' -whims; and she took advantage of his bewildered good-nature, and kept -him there half an hour, still asking for fresh articles. The counter -was covered, she dived her hands into this increasing mountain of lace, -Malines, Valenciennes, and Chantilly, her fingers trembling with desire, -her face gradually warming with a sensual joy; whilst Blanche, close to -her, agitated by the same passion, was very pale, her flesh inflated and -soft. The conversation continued; Hutin, standing there waiting their -good pleasure, could have slapped their faces. - -“Ah!” said Madame Marty, “you're looking at some cravats and -handkerchiefs like those I showed you the other day.” - -It was true, Madame de Boves, tormented by Madame Marty's lace since -the previous Saturday, had been unable to resist the desire to at least -handle some like it, as the allowance her husband made her did not -permit her to carry any away. She blushed slightly, explaining that -Blanche wanted to see the Spanish-blonde cravats. Then she added: -“You're going to the ready-made department--Well! we'll see you again. -Shall we say in the oriental saloon?” - -“That's it, in the oriental saloon--Superb, isn't it?” - -And they separated enraptured, amidst the obstruction produced by the -sale of the insertions and small trimmings at low prices. Deloche, glad -to be occupied, recommenced emptying the boxes before the mother and -daughter. And amidst the groups pressed along the counters, Jouve, the -inspector, was slowly walking about with his military air, displaying -his decoration, watching over these fine and precious goods, so easy to -conceal up a sleeve. When he passed behind Madame de Boves, surprised -to see her with her arms plunged in such a heap of lace he cast a quick -glance at her feverish hands. - -“To the right, ladies,” said Hutin, resuming his march. - -He was beside himself with rage. Was it not enough that he had missed a -sale down below? Now they kept him waiting at each turning of the shop! -And in his annoyance there was a strong feeling of the rancour existing -between the textile departments and the ready-made departments, which -were in continual hostility, fighting over the customers, stealing each -other's percentage and commission. Those of the silk department were -more enraged than those of the woollen, whenever they were obliged to -show a lady to where the ready-made articles were kept, when she decided -to take a mantle after looking at various sorts of silk. - -“Mademoiselle Vadon!” said Hutin, in an angry voice, when he at last -arrived in the department. - -But she passed by without listening, absorbed in a sale which she was -conducting. The room was full, a stream of people were crossing it, -coming in by the door of the lace department and going out by the door -of the under-clothing department, whilst to the right customers were -trying on garments, and posing before the glasses. The red carpet -stifled the noise of the footsteps, the distant roar from the -ground-floor died away, giving place to a discreet murmur, a -drawing-room warmth deadened by the crowd of women. - -“Mademoiselle Prunaire!” cried out Hutin. And as she took no notice -either, he added between his teeth, so as not to be heard: “A set of -frights!” - -He certainly was not fond of them, tired to death as he was by climbing -the stairs to bring them customers, furious at the profits which he -accused them of taking out of his pocket It was a secret war, in which -the young ladies themselves entered with equal fierceness; and in their -mutual fatigue, always on foot, worked to death, all difference of sex -disappeared, nothing remained but these contrary interests, irritated by -the fever of business. - -“So there's no one here to serve?” asked Hutin. - -But he suddenly caught sight of Denise. They had kept her folding all -the morning, only giving her a few doubtful customers to whom she had -not sold anything. When he recognised her, occupied in clearing off the -counter an enormous heap of garments, he ran up to her. - -“Look here, mademoiselle! serve these ladies who are waiting.” - -And he quickly slipped Madame Marty's purchases into her arms, tired -of carrying them about the place. His smile returned, and in this smile -there was the ill-natured expression of the experienced salesman, who -shrewdly guessed into what an awkward position he had just thrown both -the ladies and the young girl. The latter, however, remained quite -troubled before this unhoped-for sale which suddenly presented itself. -For the second time Hutin appeared to her like an unknown friend, -fraternal and tender, always ready to spring out of darkness and -save her. Her eyes glistened with gratitude; she followed him with a -lingering look, whilst he was elbowing his way towards his department. - -“I want a mantle,” said Madame Marty. - -Then Denise questioned her. What style of mantle? But the lady had no -idea, she wished to see what the house had got. And the young girl, -already very tired, bewildered by the crowd, lost her head; she had -never served any but the rare customers who came to Cornaille's, at -Valognes; she didn't even know the number of the models, nor their -places in the cupboards. She hardly knew how to reply to the ladies, who -were beginning to lose patience, when Madame Aurélie perceived Madame -Desforges, of whose connection with Mouret she was no doubt aware, for -she hastened over and asked with a smile: - -“Are these ladies being served?” - -“Yes, that young person over there is attending to us,” replied -Henriette. “But she does not appear to be very well up to her work; she -can't find anything.” - -At this, the first-hand completely paralysed Denise by saying to her -in a whisper: “You see very well you know nothing. Don't interfere any -more, please.” And turning round she called out: “Mademoiselle Vadon, -these ladies require a mantle!” - -She remained there whilst Marguerite showed the models. The girl assumed -with the customers a dry polite voice, the disagreeable attitude of a -young person dressed up in silk, with a sort of varnish of elegance, of -which she retained, unknown to herself, the jealousy and rancour. -When she heard Madame Marty say she did not wish to exceed two hundred -francs, she made a grimace of pity. Oh! madame would give more, it would -be impossible to find anything respectable for two hundred francs. And -she threw some of the common mantles on a counter with a gesture which -signified: “Just see, aren't they pitiful?” Madame Marty dared not think -of them after that; she bent over to murmur in Madame Desforges's ear: - -“Don't you prefer to be served by men? One feels more comfortable?” - -At last Marguerite brought a silk mantle trimmed with jet, which she -treated with more respect And Madame Aurélie abruptly called Denise. - -“Come, do something for your living. Just put that on your shoulders.” - -Denise, wounded to the heart, despairing of ever succeeding in the -house, had remained motionless, her hands hanging by her side. No doubt -she would be sent away, and the children would be without food. The -tumult of the crowd buzzed in her head, she felt herself tottering, her -arms bruised by the handling of so many armfuls of garments, hard work -which she had never done before. However, she was obliged to obey and -allow Marguerite to put the mantle on her, as on a dummy. - -“Stand upright,” said Madame Aurélie. - -But a moment after they forgot Denise. Mouret had just come in with -Vallagnosc and Bourdoncle; and he bowed to the ladies, who complimented -him on his magnificent exhibition of winter novelties. Of course -they went into raptures over the oriental saloon. Vallagnosc, who was -finishing his walk round the counters, displayed more surprise than -admiration; for, after all, thought he, in his pessimist supineness, -it was nothing more than an immense collection of calico. Bourdoncle, -forgetting that he belonged to the establishment, also congratulated the -governor, to make him forget his anxious doubts and persecutions of the -early part of the day. - -“Yes, yes; things are going on very well, I'm quite satisfied,” repeated -Mouret, radiant, replying with a smile to Madame Desforges's tender -looks. “But I must not interrupt you, ladies.” - -Then all eyes were again fixed on Denise. She placed herself entirely in -the hands of Marguerite, who was making her turn round slowly. - -“What do you think of it--eh?” asked Madame Marty of Madame Desforges. - -The latter gave her advice, like a supreme umpire of fashion. “It isn't -bad, the cut is original, but it doesn't seem to me very graceful about -the figure.” - -“Oh!” interrupted Madame Aurélie, “it must be seen on the lady herself. -You can understand it does not look much on this young person, who -is not very stout. Hold up your head, mademoiselle, give it all its -importance.” - -They smiled. Denise had turned very pale. She felt ashamed at being thus -turned into a machine, which they were examining and joking about so -freely. - -Madame Desforges, yielding to the antipathy of a contrary nature, and -annoyed by the young girl's sweet face, maliciously added: “No doubt it -would set better if the young person's dress were not so loose-fitting.” - -And she cast at Mouret the mocking look of a Parisian beauty, greatly -amused by the absurd ridiculous dress of a country girl. He felt the -amorous caress of this glance, the triumph of a woman proud of her -beauty and of her art. Therefore, out of pure gratitude, the gratitude -of a man who felt himself adored, he thought himself obliged to joke -in his turn, notwithstanding his good-will towards Denise, whose secret -charm had conquered his gallant nature. - -“Besides, her hair should be combed,” murmured he. - -This was the last straw. The director deigned to laugh, all the young -ladies were bursting. Marguerite risked a slight chuckle, like a -well-behaved girl who restrains herself; Clara had left a customer to -enjoy the fun at her ease; even the saleswomen from another department -had come, attracted by the talking. As for the ladies they took it more -quietly, with an air of well-bred enjoyment. Madame Aurélie was the only -one who did not laugh, as if Denise's splendid wild-looking head of -hair and elegant virginal shoulders had dishonoured her, in the orderly -well-kept department. The young girl had turned paler still, in the -midst of all these people who were laughing at her. She felt herself -violated, exposed to all their looks, without defence. What had she -done that they should thus attack her thin figure, and her too luxuriant -hair? But she was especially wounded by Madame Desforges's and Mouret's -laughter, instinctively divining their connection, her heart sinking -with an unknown grief. This lady was very ill-natured to attack a poor -girl who had said nothing; and as for Mouret, he most decidedly froze -her up with a sort of fear, before which all her other sentiments -disappeared, without her being able to analyse them. And, totally -abandoned, attacked in her most cherished womanly feelings of modesty, -and shocked at their injustice, she was obliged to stifle the sobs which -were rising in her throat. - -“I should think so; let her comb her hair to-morrow,” said the terrible -Bourdoncle to Madame Aurélie. He had condemned Denise the first day she -came, full of scorn for her small limbs. - -At last the first-hand came and took the mantle off Denise's shoulders, -saying to her in a low tone: “Well! mademoiselle, here's a fine start. -Really, if this is the way you show off your capabilities----Impossible -to be more stupid!” - -Denise, fearing the tears might gush from her, hastened back to the heap -of garments, which she began to sort out on the counter. There at least -she was lost in the crowd. Fatigue prevented her thinking. But she -suddenly felt Pauline near her, a saleswoman in the under-clothing -department, who had already defended her that morning. The latter had -followed the scene, and murmured in Denise's ear: - -“My poor child, don't be so sensitive. Keep that to yourself, or they'll -go on worse and worse. I come from Chartres. Yes, exactly, Pauline -Cugnot is my name; and my parents are millers. Well! they would have -devoured me the first few days if I had not stood up firm. Come, be -brave! give me your hand, we'll have a talk together whenever you like.” - -This hand held out redoubled Denise's confusion; she shook it furtively, -hastening to take up a load of cloaks, fearing to be doing wrong and to -get a scolding if they knew she had a friend. - -However, Madame Aurélie herself, had just put the mantle on Madame -Marty, and they all exclaimed: “Oh! how nice! delightful!” It at once -looked quite different. Madame Desforges decided it would be impossible -to improve on it. - -There was a good deal of bowing. Mouret took his leave, whilst -Vallognosc, who had perceived Madame de Boves and her daughter in the -lace department, hastened to offer his arm to the mother. Marguerite, -standing before one of the pay-desks, was already calling out the -different purchases made by Madame Marty, who settled for them and -ordered the parcel to be taken to her cab. Madame Desforges had found -her articles at pay-desk No. 10. Then the ladies met once more in the -oriental saloon. They were leaving, but it was amidst a loquacious -feeling of admiration. Even Madame Guibal became enthusiastic. - -“Oh! delicious! makes you think you are in the East; doesn't it?” - -“A real harem, and not at all dear!” - -“And the Smyrnas! oh, the Smyrnas! what tones, what delicacy!” - -“And this Kurdestan! Just look, a Delacroix!” - -The crowd was slowly diminishing. The bell, at an hour's interval, -had already announced the two first dinners; the third was about to -be served, and in the departments there were now only a few lingering -customers, whose fever for spending had made them forget the time. -Outside nothing was heard but the rolling of the last carriages amidst -the husky voice of Paris, the snort of a satiated ogre digesting the -linens and cloths, silks and lace, with which he had been gorged since -the morning. Inside, beneath the flaming gas-jets, which, burning in -the twilight, had lighted up the supreme efforts of the sale, everything -appeared like a field of battle still warm with the massacre of the -various goods. The salesmen, harassed and fatigued, camped amidst the -contents of their shelves and counters, which appeared to have been -thrown into the greatest confusion by the furious blast of a hurricane. -It was with difficulty that one traversed the galleries on the ground -floor, blocked up with a crowd of chairs, and in the glove department it -was necessary to step over a pile of cases heaped up around Mignot; in -the woollen department there was no means of passing at all, Liénard was -dozing on a sea of bales, in which certain piles, still standing, -though half destroyed, seemed to be houses that an overflowing river was -carrying away; and, further on, the linen department was like a heavy -fall of snow, one ran up against icebergs of napkins, and walked on -light flakes of handkerchiefs. - -The same disorder prevailed upstairs in the departments; the furs were -scattered over the flooring, the readymade clothes were heaped up -like the great-coats of wounded soldiers, the lace and the underlinen, -unfolded, crumpled, thrown about everywhere, made one think of an army -of women who had disrobed there in the disorder of some sudden -desire; whilst downstairs, at the other end of the house, the delivery -department in full activity was still disgorging the parcels with which -it was bursting, and which were carried off by the vans--last vibration -of the overheated machine. But it was in the silk department especially -that the customers had flung themselves with the greatest ardour. There -they had cleared off everything, there was plenty of room to pass, the -hall was bare; the whole of the colossal stock of Paris Paradise had -been cut up and carried away, as if by a swarm of devouring locusts. And -in the midst of this emptiness, Hutin and Favier were running through -the counterfoils of their debit-notes, calculating their commission, -still out of breath after the struggle. Favier had made fifteen francs, -Hutin had only managed to make thirteen, thoroughly beaten that day, -enraged at his bad luck. Their eyes sparkled with the passion for money. -The whole shop around them was also adding up figures, glowing with the -same fever, in the brutal gaiety of the evening of the battle. - -“Well, Bourdoncle!” cried out Mouret, “are you trembling still?” - -He had returned to his favourite position at the top of the stairs of -the first floor, against the balustrade; and, in the presence of the -massacre of stuffs which was spread out under him, he indulged in a -victorious laugh. His fears of the morning, that moment of unpardonable -weakness which nobody would ever know of, inspired him with a greater -desire to triumph. The battle was definitely won, the small tradespeople -of the neighbourhood were done for, and Baron Hartmann was conquered, -with his millions and his land. Whilst he was looking at the cashiers -bending over their ledgers, adding up long columns of figures, whilst he -was listening to the sound of the gold, falling from their fingers into -the metal bowls, he already saw The Ladies' Paradise growing beyond all -bounds, enlarging its hall and prolonging its galleries as far as the -Rue du Dix-Décembre. - -“And now are you convinced, Bourdoncle,” he resumed, “that the house is -really too small? We could have sold twice as much.” - -Bourdoncle humbled himself, enraptured, moreover, to find himself in the -wrong. But a new spectacle rendered them grave. As was the custom every -evening, Lhomme, the chief cashier, had just collected the receipts -from each pay-desk; after having added them up, he usually posted up -the total amount after placing the paper on which it was written on his -file. He then took the receipts up to the chief cashier's office, in a -leather case and in bags, according to the nature of the cash. On this -occasion the gold and silver predominated, and he was slowly walking -upstairs, carrying three enormous bags. Deprived of his right arm, cut -off at the elbow, he clasped them in his left arm against his breast, -holding one up with his chin to prevent it slipping. His heavy breathing -could be heard at a distance, he passed along, staggering and superb, -amidst the respectful shopmen. - -“How much, Lhomme?” asked Mouret. - -“Eighty thousand seven hundred and forty-two francs two sous,” replied -the cashier. - -A joyous laugh stirred up The Ladies' Paradise. The amount ran through -the establishment. It was the highest figure ever attained in one day by -a draper's shop. - -That evening, when Denise went up to bed, she was obliged to lean -against the partition in the corridor under the zinc roof. When in -her room, and with the door closed, she fell down on the bed; her feet -pained her so much. For a long time she continued to look with a stupid -air at the dressing-table, the wardrobe, all the hotel-like nudity. -This, then, was where she was going to live; and her first day tormented -her--an abominable, endless day. She would never have the courage to go -through another. Then she perceived she was dressed in silk; and this -uniform depressed her. She was childish enough, before unpacking her -box, to put on her old woollen dress, which hung on the back of a chair. -But when she was once more dressed in this poor garment of hers, a -painful emotion choked her; the sobs which she had kept back all day -burst forth suddenly in a flood of hot tears. She fell back on the bed, -weeping at the thought of the two children, and she wept on, without -feeling to have the strength to take off her boots, completely overcome -with fatigue and grief. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -The next day Denise had scarcely been downstairs half an hour, when -Madame Aurélie said to her in her sharp voice: “You are wanted at the -directorate, mademoiselle.” - -The young girl found Mouret alone, in the large office hung with green -repp. He had suddenly remembered the “unkempt girl,” as Bourdoncle -called her; and he, who usually detested the part of fault-finder, had -had the idea of sending for her and waking her up a bit, if she were -still dressed in the style of a country wench. The previous day, -notwithstanding his pleasantry, he had experienced, in Madame -Desforges's presence, a feeling of wounded vanity, on seeing the -elegance of one of his saleswomen discussed. He felt a confused -sentiment, a mixture of sympathy and anger. - -“We have engaged you, mademoiselle,” commenced he, “out of regard for -your uncle, and you must not put us under the sad necessity----” - -But he stopped. Opposite him, on the other side of the desk, stood -Denise, upright, serious, and pale. Her silk dress was no longer too big -for her, but fitted tight round her pretty figure, displaying the -pure lines of her virgin shoulders; and if her hair, knotted in thick -tresses, still appeared untidy, she tried at least to keep it in order. -After having gone to sleep with her clothes on, her eyes red with -weeping, the young girl had felt ashamed of this attack of nervous -sensibility on waking up about four o'clock, and she had immediately -set about taking in her dress. She had spent an hour before the small -looking-glass, combing her hair, without being able to reduce it as she -would have liked to. - -“Ah! thank heavens!” said Mouret, “you look better this morning. But -there's still that dreadful hair!” He rose from his seat and went up to -her to try and smooth it down in the same familiar way Madame Aurélie -had attempted to do it the previous day. “There! just tuck that in -behind your ear. The chignon is too high.” - -She did not speak, but let him continue to arrange her hair; -notwithstanding her vow to be strong, she had arrived at the office full -of misgivings, certain that she had been sent for to be informed of her -dismissal. And Mouret's evident kindliness did not reassure her; she -still felt afraid of him, feeling when near him that uneasiness which -she attributed to a natural anxiety in the presence of a powerful man -on whom her fate depended. When he saw her so trembling under his -hands, which were grazing her neck, he was sorry for his movement of -good-nature, for he feared above all to lose his authority. - -“In short, mademoiselle,” resumed he, once more placing the desk between -himself and her, “try and look to your appearance. You are no longer -at Valognes; study our Parisian young ladies. If your uncle's name has -sufficed to gain your admittance to our house, I feel sure you will -carry out what your person seemed to promise to me. Unfortunately, -everybody here is not of my opinion. Let this be a warning to you. Don't -make me tell a falsehood.” - -He treated her like a child, with more pity than kindness, his curiosity -in matters feminine simply awakened by the troubling, womanly charm -which he felt springing up in this poor and awkward child. And she, -whilst he was lecturing her, having suddenly perceived Madame Hedouin's -portrait--the handsome regular face smiling gravely in the gold -frame--felt herself shivering again, notwithstanding the encouraging -words he addressed to her. This was the dead lady, she whom people -accused him of having killed, in order to found the house with the blood -of her body. - -Mouret was still speaking. “Now you may go,” said he at last, sitting -down and taking up his pen. She went away, heaving a deep sigh of -relief. - -From that day forward, Denise displayed her great courage. Beneath these -rare attacks of sensitiveness, a strong sense of reason was constantly -working, quite a feeling of bravery at finding herself weak and alone, a -cheerful determination to carry out her self-imposed task. She made very -little noise, but went straight ahead to her goal, with an invincible -sweetness, overcoming all obstacles, and that simply and naturally, for -such was her real character. - -At first she had to surmount the terrible fatigues of the department The -parcels of garments tired her arms, so much so that during the first -six weeks she cried with pain when she turned over at night, bent almost -double, her shoulders bruised. But she suffered still more from her -shoes, thick shoes brought from Valognes, want of money preventing her -replacing them with light boots. Always on her feet, trotting about -from morning to night, scolded if seen leaning for a moment against any -support, her feet became swollen, little feet, like those of a child, -which seemed ground up in these torturing bluchers; her heels throbbed -with fever, the soles were covered with blisters, the skin of which -chafed off and stuck to the stocking. She felt her entire frame -shattered, her limbs and organs contracted by the lassitude of her legs, -the certain sudden weaknesses incident to her sex betraying themselves -by the paleness of her flesh. And she, so thin, so frail, resisted -courageously, whilst a great many saleswomen around her were obliged -to quit the business, attacked with special maladies. Her good grace in -suffering, her valiant obstinacy maintained her, smiling and upright, -when she felt ready to give way, thoroughly worn out and exhausted by -work to which men would have succumbed. - -Another torment was to have the whole department against her. To -the physical martyrdom there was added the secret persecution of her -comrades. Two months of patience and gentleness had not disarmed them. -She was constantly exposed to wounding remarks, cruel inventions, -a series of slights which cut her to the heart, in her longing for -affection. They had joked for a long time over her unfortunate first -appearance; the words “clogs” and “numbskull” circulated. Those who -missed a sale were sent to Valognes; she passed, in short, for the fool -of the place. Then, when she revealed herself later on as a remarkable -saleswoman, well up in the mechanism of the house, the young ladies -arranged together so as never to leave her a good customer. Marguerite -and Clara pursued her with an instinctive hatred, closing up the ranks -in order not to be swallowed up by this new comer, whom they really -feared in spite of their affectation of disdain. As for Madame Aurélie, -she was hurt by the proud reserve displayed by the young girl, who did -not hover round her skirts with an air of caressing admiration; she -therefore abandoned Denise to the rancour of her favourites, to the -favoured ones of her court, who were always on their knees, engaged in -feeding her with a continual flattery, which her large authoritative -person needed to make it blossom forth. For a while, the second-hand, -Madame Frédéric, appeared not to enter into the conspiracy, but this -must have been by inadvertence, for she showed herself equally harsh the -moment she saw to what annoyances her good-nature was likely to expose -her. Then the abandonment became complete, they all made a butt of the -“unkempt girl,” who lived in an hourly struggle, only managing by the -greatest courage to hold her own in the department. - -Such was her life now. She had to smile, look brave and gracious in a -silk dress which did not belong to her, although dying with fatigue, -badly fed, badly treated, under the continual menace of a brutal -dismissal. Her room was her only refuge, the only place where she could -abandon herself to the luxury of a cry, when she had suffered too much -during the day. But a terrible coldness fell from the zinc roof, covered -with the December snow; she was obliged to nestle in her iron bedstead, -throw all her clothes over her, and weep under the counterpane to -prevent the frost chapping her face. Mouret never spoke to her now. When -she caught Bourdoncle's severe looks during business hours she trembled, -for she felt in him a born enemy who would not forgive her the slightest -fault. And amidst this general hostility, Jouve the inspector's strange -friendliness astonished her. If he met her in any out-of-the-way corner -he smiled at her, made some amiable remark; twice he had saved her from -being reprimanded without any show of gratitude on her part, for she was -more troubled than touched by his protection. - -One evening, after dinner, as the young ladies were setting the -cupboards in order, Joseph came and informed Denise that a young man -wanted her below. She went down, feeling very anxious. - -“Hullo!” said Clara, “the 'unkempt girl' has got a young man.” - -“He must be hard up for a sweetheart,” declared Marguerite. - -Downstairs, at the door, Denise found her brother Jean. She had formally -prohibited him from coming to the shop in this way, as it looked very -bad. But she did not dare to scold him, so excited did he appear, -bareheaded, out of breath through running from the Faubourg du Temple. - -“Have you got ten francs?” stammered he. “Give me ten francs, or I'm a -lost man.” - -The young rascal looked so comical, with his flowing locks and handsome -girlish face, launching out with this melodramatic phrase, that she -could have smiled had it not been for the anguish which this demand for -money caused her. - -“What! ten francs?” she murmured. “Whatever's the matter?” - -He blushed, and explained that he had met a friend's sister. Denise -stopped him, feeling embarrassed, not wishing to know any more about it. -Twice already had he rushed in to obtain similar loans, but the first -time it was only twenty-five sous, and the next thirty. He was always -getting mixed up with women. - -“I can't give you ten francs,” resumed she. “Pépé's board isn't paid -yet, and I've only just the money. I shall have hardly enough to buy a -pair of boots, which I want badly. You really are not reasonable, Jean. -It's too bad of you.” - -“Well, I'm lost,” repeated he, with a tragical gesture. “Just listen, -little sister; she's a tall, dark girl; we went to the café with her -brother. I never thought the drinks----” - -She had to interrupt him again, and as tears were coming into his eyes, -she took out her purse and slipped a ten-franc piece into his hand. He -at once set up a laugh. - -“I was sure--But my word of honour! never again! A fellow would have to -be a regular scamp.” - -And he ran off, after having kissed his sister, like a madman. The -fellows in the shop seemed astonished. - -That night Denise did not sleep much. Since her entry in The Ladies' -Paradise, money had been her cruel anxiety. She was still a probationer, -without salary; the young ladies in the department frequently prevented -her from selling, and she just managed to pay Pépé's board and lodging, -thanks to the unimportant customers they were good enough to leave her. -It was a time of black misery--misery in a silk dress. She was often -obliged to spend the night repairing her small stack of clothes, darning -her linen, mending her chemises as if they had been lace; without -mentioning the patches she put on her boots, as cleverly as any -bootmaker could have done. She even risked washing things in her hand -basin. But her old woollen dress was an especial cause of anxiety to -her; she had no other, and was forced to put it on every evening when -she quitted the uniform silk, and this wore it terribly; a spot on -it gave her the fever, the least tear was a catastrophe. And she had -nothing, not a sou, not even enough to buy the trifling articles which -a woman always wants; she had been obliged to wait a fortnight to renew -her stock of needles and cotton. Thus it was a real disaster when Jean, -with his love affairs, dropped down all at once and pillaged her purse. -A franc-piece taken away caused a gulf which she did not know how -to fill up. As for finding ten francs on the morrow it was not to be -thought of for a moment. The whole night she slept an uncomfortable -sleep, haunted by the nightmare, in which she saw Pépé thrown into the -street, whilst she was turning over the flagstones with her bruised -fingers to see if there were not some money underneath. - -It happened that the next day she had to play the part of the -well-dressed girl. Some well-known customers came in, and Madame Aurélie -called her several times in order that she should show off the new -styles. And whilst she was posing there, with the stiff graces of a -fashion-plate, she was thinking of Pépé's board and lodging, which she -had promised to pay that evening. She could very well do without boots -for another month; but even on adding the thirty francs she had left to -the four francs which she had saved sou by sou, that would never make -more than thirty-four francs, and where was she to find six francs to -complete the sum? It was an anguish in which her heart failed her. - -“You will notice the shoulders are free,” Madame Aurélie was saying. -“It's very fashionable and very convenient. The young person can fold -her arms.” - -“Oh! easily,” replied Denise, who continued to smile amiably. “One can't -feel it. I am sure you will like it, madame.” - -She now blamed herself for having gone to fetch Pépé from Madame Gras's, -the previous Sunday, to take him for a walk in the Champs-Elysées. The -poor child so seldom went out with her! But she had had to buy some -gingerbread and a little spade, and then take him to see Punch and Judy, -and that had mounted at once to twenty-nine sous. Really Jean could -not think much about the little one, or he would not be so foolish. -Afterwards, everything fell upon her shoulders. - -“Of course, if it does not suit you, madame--” resumed the first-hand. -“Just put this cloak on, mademoiselle, so that the lady may judge.” - -And Denise walked slowly round, with the cloak on, saying: “This is -warmer. It's this year's fashion.” - -And she continued to torture herself, behind her professional good -graces, until the evening, to know where she was to find this money. The -young ladies, who were very busy, had left her an important sale; but -it was only Tuesday, and she had four days to wait before drawing any -money. After dinner she decided to postpone her visit to Madame Gras -till the next day. She would excuse herself, say she had been detained, -and before then she would have the six francs, perhaps. - -As Denise avoided the slightest expense, she went to bed early. What -could she do in the streets, with her unsociableness, still frightened -by the big city in which she only knew the streets near the shop? After -having ventured as far as the Palais-Royal, to get a little fresh air, -she would quickly return, lock herself in her room and set about sewing -or washing. - -It was, along the corridor of the bed-rooms, a barrack-like -promiscuity--girls, who were often not very tidy, a gossiping over dirty -water and dirty linen, quite a disagreeable feeling, which manifested -itself in frequent quarrels and continual reconciliations. They were, -moreover, prohibited from going up to their rooms in the day-time; they -did not live there, but merely slept there at night, not going up till -the last minute, leaving again in the morning still half asleep, hardly -awakened by a rapid wash; and this gust of wind which was continually -sweeping through the corridor, the fatigue of the thirteen hours' work -which threw them on their beds thoroughly worn out, changed this upper -part of the house into an inn traversed by the tired ill-temper of a -host of travellers. Denise had no friend. Of all the young ladies, -one alone, Pauline Cugnot, showed her a certain tenderness; and the -ready-made and under-clothing departments being close to one another, -and in open war, the sympathy between the two saleswomen had hitherto -been confined to a few rare words hastily exchanged. Pauline occupied -a neighbouring room, to the right of Denise's; but as she disappeared -immediately after dinner and only returned at eleven o'clock, the latter -only heard her get into bed, without ever meeting her after business -hours. - -This evening, Denise had made up her mind to play the part of bootmaker -once more. She was holding her shoes, turning them about, wondering how -she could make them last another month. At last she decided to take a -strong needle and sew on the soles, which were threatening to leave the -uppers. During this time a collar and a pair of cuffs were soaking in -the basin full of soapsuds. - -Every evening she heard the same noises, the young ladies coming in -one by one, short whispered conversations, laughing, and sometimes a -dispute, which they stifled as much as possible. Then the beds creaked, -the tired occupants yawned, and fell into a heavy slumber. Denise's left -hand neighbour often talked in her sleep, which frightened her very much -at first Perhaps others, like herself, stopped up to mend their things, -in spite of the rules; but if so they probably took the same precautions -as she did herself, keeping very quiet, avoiding the least shock, for a -shivering silence reigned in all the rooms. - -It had struck eleven about ten minutes before when a sound of footsteps -made her raise her head. Another young lady late! And she recognised it -to be Pauline, by hearing the latter open the door next to her. - -But she was astonished when Pauline returned quietly and knocked at her -door. - -“Make haste, it's me!” - -The saleswomen not being allowed to visit each other in their rooms, -Denise quickly unlocked the door, so that her neighbour should not -be caught by Madame Cabin, who was supposed to see this rule strictly -carried out. - -“Was she there?” asked Denise, closing the door. - -“Who? Madame Cabin?” replied Pauline. “Oh, I'm not afraid of her, she's -easily settled with a five-franc-piece!” Then she added: “I've wanted to -have a talk with you for a long time past. But it's impossible to do so -downstairs. Besides, you looked so down-hearted to-night at table.” - -Denise thanked her, and invited her to sit down, touched by her -good-natured air. But in the trouble caused by the sudden visit she had -not laid down the shoe she was mending, and Pauline's eyes fell on it -at once. She shook her head, looked round and perceived the collar and -cuffs in the basin. - -“My poor child, I thought as much,” resumed she. “Ah, I know what it is! -When I first came up from Chartres, and old Cugnot didn't send me a sou, -I many a time washed my own chemises! Yes, yes, even my chemises! I had -two, and there was always one in soak.” - -She sat down, still out of breath from running. Her large face, -with small bright eyes, and big tender mouth, had a certain grace, -notwithstanding the rather coarse features. And, without transition, -all of a sudden, she related her history; her childhood at the mill; old -Cugnot ruined by a lawsuit; her being sent to Paris to make her fortune -with twenty francs in her pocket; then her start as a shop-girl in a -shop at Batignolles, then at The Ladies' Paradise--a terrible start, all -the sufferings and all the privations imaginable; she then spoke of -her present life, of the two hundred francs she earned a month, the -pleasures she indulged in, the carelessness in which she allowed her -days to glide away. Some jewellery, a brooch, a watch-chain, glistened -on her dark-blue cloth dress, coquettishly made to the figure; and she -wore a velvet hat, ornamented with a large grey feather. - -Denise had turned very red, with her shoe. She began to stammer out an -explanation. - -“But the same thing happened to me,” repeated Pauline. - -“Come, come, I'm older than you, I'm over twenty-six, though I don't -look it. Just tell me your little troubles.” - -Denise yielded, conquered by this friendship so frankly offered. She -sat down in her petticoat, with an old shawl over her shoulders, near -Pauline in full dress; and an interesting gossip ensued. - -It was freezing in the room, the cold seemed to run down the bare -prison-like walls; but they did not notice that their fingers were -almost frost-bitten, they were so fully taken up by their conversation. -Little by little, Denise opened her heart entirely, spoke of Jean and -Pépé, and how much the money question tortured her; which led them both -to abuse the young ladies in the dress department. Pauline relieved her -mind. - -“Oh, the hussies! If they treated you properly and in a friendly manner, -you could make more than a hundred francs a month.” - -“Everybody is down on me, and I'm sure I don't know why,” said Denise, -beginning to cry. “Look at Monsieur Bourdoncle, he's always watching me -for a chance of finding me in fault, as if I were in his way. Old Jouve -is about the only one----” - -The other interrupted her. “What, that old monkey of an inspector! Ah! -my dear, don't you trust him. You know, men with big noses like his! He -may display his decoration as much as he likes, there's a story about -something that happened to him in our department. But what a child you -are to grieve like this! What a misfortune it is to be so sensitive! Of -course, what is happening to you happens to every one; they are making -you pay your footing.” - -She seized her hands and kissed her, carried away by her good heart The -money-question was a graver one. Certainly a poor girl could not support -her two brothers, pay the little one's board and lodging, and regale the -big one's mistresses with the few paltry sous picked up from the others' -cast-off customers; for it was to be feared that she would not get any -salary until business improved in March. - -“Listen to me, it's impossible for you to live in this way any longer. -If I were you----” said Pauline. - -But a noise in the corridor stopped her. It was probably Marguerite, who -was accused of prowling about at night to watch the others. Pauline, -who was still pressing her friend's hand, looked at her for a moment in -silence, listening. Then she resumed in a very low tone, with an air of -tender conviction: “If I were you I should take some one.” - -“How some one?” murmured Denise, not understanding at first. - -When she understood, she withdrew her hands, looking very confused. This -advice made her feel awkward, like an idea which had never occurred to -her, and of which she could not see the advantage. - -“Oh! no,” replied she simply. - -“Then,” continued Pauline, “you'll never manage, I tell you so, plainly. -Here are the figures: forty francs for the little one, a five franc -piece now and again for the big one; and then there's yourself, you -can't always go about dressed like a pauper, with boots that make the -other girls laugh at you; yes, really, your boots do you a deal of harm. -Take some one, it would be much better.” - -“No,” repeated Denise. - -“Well! you are very foolish. It's inevitable, my dear, and so natural. -We all do it sooner or later. Look at me, I was a probationer, like you, -without a sou. We are boarded and lodged, it's true; but there's our -dress; besides, it's impossible to go without a copper in one's pocket, -shut up in one's room, watching the flies. So you see girls forcibly -drift into it.” - -She then spoke of her first lover, a lawyer's clerk whom she had met at -a party at Meudon. After him, came a post-office clerk. And, finally, -ever since the autumn, she had been keeping company with a salesman at -the Bon Marche, a very nice tall fellow, with whom she spent all her -leisure time. Never more than one sweetheart at a time, however. She was -very respectable in her way, and became indignant when she heard talk of -those girls who yielded to the first-comer. - -“I don't tell you to misconduct yourself, you know!” said she quickly. -“For instance, I should not like to be seen with your Clara, for fear -people should say I was as bad as she. But when a girl stays quietly -with one lover, and has nothing to blame herself for--do you think that -wrong?” - -“No,” replied Denise. “But I don't care for it, that's all.” There was -a fresh silence. In the small icy-cold room they were smiling to each -other, greatly affected by this whispered conversation. “Besides, one -must have some affection for some one before doing so,” resumed she, her -cheeks scarlet. - -Pauline was astonished. She set up a laugh, and embraced her a second -time, saying: “But, my darling, when you meet and like each other! You -are funny! People won't force you. Look here, would you like Baugé -to take us somewhere in the country on Sunday? He'll bring one of his -friends.” - -“No,” said Denise, in her gently obstinate way. - -Pauline insisted no longer. Each one was free to act as she liked. What -she had said was out of pure kindness of heart, for she felt really -grieved to see a comrade so miserable. And as it was nearly midnight, -she got up to leave. But before doing so she forced Denise to accept the -six francs she wanted, begging her not to trouble about the matter, but -to repay the amount when she earned more. - -“Now,” added she, “blow your candle out, so that they can't see which -door opens; you can light it again immediately.” - -The candle blown out, they shook hands; and Pauline ran off to her room, -without leaving any trace in the darkness but the vague rustling of her -petticoats amidst the deep slumber of the occupants of the other little -rooms. - -Before going to bed Denise wanted to finish her boot and do her washing. -The cold became sharper still as the night advanced; but she did not -feel it, this conversation had stirred up her heart's blood. She was not -shocked, it seemed to her that every one had a right to arrange her life -as she liked, when alone and free in the world. She had never given way -to such ideas; her sense of right and her healthy nature maintained her -naturally in the respectability in which she had always lived. About one -o'clock she at last went to bed. No, she did not love any one. So what -was the use of disarranging her life, of spoiling the maternal devotion -she had vowed for her two brothers? However, she did not sleep; a crowd -of indistinct forms passed before her closed eyes, vanishing in the -darkness. - -From this moment Denise took an interest in the love-stories of the -department. During the slack moments they were constantly occupied -by their affairs with the men. Gossiping tales flew about, stories of -adventures amused the girls for a week. Clara was a scandal; she had -three lovers, without counting a string of chance admirers whom she had -in tow; and, if she did not leave the shop, where she did the least work -possible, disdaining the money which she could easily and more agreeably -earn elsewhere, it was to shield herself from her family; for she was -mortally afraid of old Prunaire, who threatened to come to Paris and -break her arms and legs with his clogs. Marguerite, on the contrary, -behaved very well, and was not known to have any lover; this caused -some surprise, for all knew of her adventure--her coming to Paris to be -confined in secret; how had she come to have the child, if she were so -virtuous? And there were some who hinted at an accident, adding that she -was now reserving herself for her cousin at Grenoble. The young ladies -also joked about Madame Frédéric, declaring that she was discreetly -connected with certain great personages; the truth was that they knew -nothing of her love-affairs; for she disappeared every evening, stiff -as starch in her widow's ill-temper, evidently in a great hurry, though -nobody knew where she was running off to so eagerly. As to Madame -Aurélie's passions, her pretended larks with obedient young men, they -were certainly false; mere inventions, spread abroad by discontented -saleswomen just for fun. Perhaps she had formerly displayed rather too -much motherly feeling for one of her son's friends, but she now occupied -too high a place in the drapery business to allow her to amuse herself -with such childish matters. Then there was the crowd leaving in the -evening, nine girls out of every ten having young men waiting for them -at the door; in the Place Gaillon, along the Rue de la Michodière, and -the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin, there was always quite a troop of men -standing motionless, watching for the girls coming out; and, when they -came, each one gave his arm to his lady and disappeared, talking with a -marital tranquillity. - -But what troubled Denise most was to have discovered Colomban's secret. -He was continually to be seen on the other side of the street, at the -door of The Old Elbeuf, his eyes raised, and never quitting the young -ladies in the readymade department. When he felt Denise was watching him -he blushed and turned away his head, as if afraid she might betray him -to Geneviève, although there had been no further connection between the -Baudus and their niece since her engagement at The Ladies' Paradise. -At first she had thought he was in love with Marguerite, on seeing his -despairing looks, for Marguerite, being very quiet, and sleeping in the -building, was not very easy to get at. But what was her astonishment to -find that Colomban's ardent glances were intended for Clara. He had been -like that for months, devoured by passion on the opposite side of the -way, without finding the courage to declare himself; and that for a girl -who was perfectly free, who lived in the Rue Louis-le-Grand, and whom he -could have spoken to any evening before she walked off on the arm of a -fresh fellow! Clara herself appeared to have no idea of her conquest. -Denise's discovery filled her with a painful emotion. Was love, then, -such a stupid thing as that? What! this fellow, who had real -happiness within his reach, was ruining his life, enraptured with this -good-for-nothing girl as if she were a saint! From that day she was -seized with a feeling of grief every time she saw Geneviève's pale and -suffering face behind the green panes of The Old Elbeuf. - -In the evening, Denise could not help thinking a great deal, on seeing -the young ladies march off with their sweethearts Those who did not -sleep at The Ladies' Paradise, disappeared until the next day, bringing -back into their departments an outside odour, a sort of troubling, -unknown impression. The young girl was sometimes obliged to reply with -a smile to a friendly nod from Pauline, whom Baugé waited for every -evening regularly at half-past eight, at the corner of the fountain -in the Place Gaillon. Then, after having gone out the last and taken -a furtive walk, always alone, she was invariably the first in, going -upstairs to work, or to bed, her head filled with dreams, full of -curiosity about this outdoor life, of which she knew nothing. She -certainly did not envy the young ladies, she was happy in her solitude, -in that unsociableness to which her timidity condemned her, as to a -refuge; but her imagination carried her away, she tried to guess things, -evoking the pleasures constantly described before her, the cafés, the -restaurants, the theatres, the Sundays spent on the water and in the -country taverns. This filled her with a mental weakness, a desire -mingled with lassitude; and she seemed to be already tired of those -amusements which she had never tasted. - -However, there was but little room for these dangerous dreams in her -daily working life. During the thirteen hours' hard work in the shop, -there was no time for any display of tenderness between the salesmen and -the saleswomen. If the continual fight for money had not abolished the -sexes, the unceasing press of business which occupied their minds and -fatigued their bodies would have sufficed to kill all desire. But -very few love-affairs had been known in the establishment amidst the -hostilities and friendships between the men and the women, the constant -elbowings from department to department. They were all nothing but -the wheels, turned round by the immense machine, abdicating their -personalities, simply contributing their strength to this commonplace, -powerful total. It was only outside that they resumed their individual -lives, with the abrupt flame of awakening passions. - -Denise, however, one day saw Albert Lhomme slipping a note into the hand -of a young lady in the underclothing department, after having several -times passed through with an air of indifference. The dead season, which -lasts from December to February was commencing; and she had periods of -rest, hours spent on her feet, her eyes wandering all over the -shop, waiting for customers. The young ladies of her department were -especially friendly with the salesmen who served the lace, but their -intimacy never went any further than some rather risky jokes, exchanged -in whispers. In the lace department there was a second-hand, a gay youth -who pursued Clara with all sorts of abominable stories, simply for a -joke--so careless at heart that he made no effort to meet her outside; -and thus it was from counter to counter, between the gentlemen and the -young ladies, a series of winks, nods, and remarks, which they alone -understood. At times they indulged in some sly gossip with their -backs half turned and with a dreamy air, in order to put the terrible -Bourdoncle off the scent As for Deloche, for a long time he contented -him self with smiling at Denise when he met her; but, getting bolder, -he occasionally murmured a friendly word. The day she had noticed -Madame Aurélie's son giving a note to the young lady in the under-linen -department, Deloche was asking her if she had enjoyed her lunch, feeling -to want to say something, and unable to find anything more amiable. -He also saw the white paper; and looking at the young girl, they both -blushed at this intrigue carried on before them. - -But under these rumours which gradually awoke the woman in her, Denise -still retained her infantine peace of mind. The one thing that stirred -her heart was meeting with Hutin. But even that was only gratitude -in her eyes; she simply thought herself touched by the young man's -politeness. He could not bring a customer to the department without her -feeling quite confused. Several times, on returning from a pay-desk, she -found herself making a _détour_, uselessly passing the silk counter, -her bosom heaving with emotion. One afternoon she met Mouret there, who -seemed to follow her with a smile. He paid no more attention to her now, -only addressing a few words to her from time to time, to give her a few -hints about her toilet, and to joke with her, as an impossible girl, a -little savage almost like a boy, of whom he would never make a coquette, -notwithstanding all his knowledge of women; sometimes he even ventured -to laugh at and tease her, without wishing to acknowledge to himself -the charm which this little saleswoman inspired in him, with her comical -head of hair. Before this mute smile, Denise trembled, as if she were -in fault Did he know why she was going through the silk department, when -she could not herself have explained what made her make such a _détour?_ - -Hutin, moreover, did not seem to be aware in any way of the young -girl's grateful looks. The shop-girls were not his style, he affected to -despise them, boasting more than ever of extraordinary adventures with -the lady customers; a baroness had been struck with him at his counter, -and the wife of an architect had fallen into his arms one day when he -went to her house about an error in measuring he had made. Beneath -this Norman boasting he simply concealed girls picked up in cafés and -music-halls. Like all young gentlemen in the drapery line, he had a -mania for spending, fighting in his department the whole week with a -miser's greediness, with the sole wish to squander his money on Sunday -on the racecourses, in the restaurants, and dancing-saloons; never -thinking of saving a penny, spending his salary as soon as he drew it, -absolutely indifferent about the future. Favier did not join him in -these parties. Hutin and he, so friendly in the shop, bowed to each -other at the door, where all further intercourse ceased. A great many of -the shopmen, in continual contact indoors, became strangers, ignorant of -each other's lives, as soon as they set foot in the streets. But Liénard -was Hutin's intimate friend. Both lived in the same lodging-house, -the Hôtel de Smyrne, in the Rue Sainte-Anne, a murky building entirely -inhabited by shop assistants. In the morning they arrived together; -then, in the evening, the first one free, after the folding was done, -waited for the other at the Cafe Saint-Roch, in the Rue Saint-Roch, a -little café where the employees of The Ladies' Paradise usually met, -brawling, drinking, and playing cards amidst the smoke of their pipes. -They often stopped there till one in the morning, until the tired -landlord turned them out. For the last month they had been spending -three evenings a week at a free-and-easy at Montmartre; and they took -their friends with them, creating a success for Mademoiselle Laure, a -music-hall singer. Hutin's latest conquest, whose talent they applauded -with such violent blows and such a clamour that the police had been -obliged to interfere on two occasions. - -The winter passed in this way, and Denise at last obtained three hundred -francs a-year fixed salary. It was quite time, for her shoes were -completely worn out. For the last month she had avoided going out, for -fear of bursting them entirely. - -“What a noise you make with your shoes, mademoiselle!” Madame Aurélie -very often remarked, with an irritated look. “It's intolerable. What's -the matter with your feet?” - -The day Denise appeared with a pair of cloth boots, for which she had -given five francs, Marguerite and Clara expressed their astonishment in -a kind of half whisper, so as to be heard. - -“Hullo! the 'unkempt girl' has given up her goloshes,” said the one. - -“Ah,” retorted the other, “she must have cried over them. They were her -mother's.” - -In point of fact, there was a general uprising against Denise. The girls -of her department had found out her friendship with Pauline, and thought -they saw a certain bravado in this affection displayed for a saleswoman -of a rival counter. They spoke of treason, accused her of going and -repeating their slightest words. The war between the two departments -became more violent than ever, it had never waxed so warm; hard words -were exchanged like cannon-balls, and there was even a slap given one -evening behind some boxes of chemises. Perhaps this remote quarrel arose -from the fact that the young ladies in the under-linen department wore -woollen dresses, whilst those in the ready-made one wore silk. In any -case, the former spoke of their neighbours with the shocked air of -respectable girls; and facts proved that they were right, for it had -been remarked that the silk dresses appeared to have a certain influence -on the dissolute habits of the young ladies who wore them. Clara was -taunted with her troop of lovers, even Marguerite had, so to say, had -her child thrown in her face, whilst Madame Frédéric was accused of -all sorts of concealed passions. And this was solely on account of that -Denise! - -“Now, young ladies, no ugly words; behave yourselves!” Madame Aurélie -would say with her imperial air, amidst the rising passions of her -little kingdom. “Show who you are.” - -At heart she preferred to remain neutral. As she confessed one day, when -talking to Mouret, these girls were all about the same, one was as good -as the other. But she suddenly became impassioned when she learnt from -Bourdoncle that he had just caught her son downstairs kissing a young -girl belonging to the under-linen department, the saleswoman to whom he -had passed several letters. It was abominable, and she roundly accused -the under-linen department of having laid a trap for Albert. Yes, it was -a got-up affair against herself, they were trying to dishonour her by -ruining a child without experience, after seeing that it was impossible -to attack her department. Her only object in making such a noise was to -complicate the business, for she knew what her son was, fully aware -that he was capable of doing all sorts of stupid things. For a time the -matter assumed a grave aspect, Mignot, the glove salesman, was mixed up -in it. He was a great friend of Albert's, and the rumour got circulated -that he favoured the mistresses Albert sent him, girls with big -chignons, who rummaged in the boxes for hours together; and there was -also a story about some Swedish kid gloves given to the girl of the -under-linen department which was never properly cleared up. At last -the scandal was hushed up out of regard for Madame Aurélie, whom Mouret -himself treated with deference. Bourdoncle contented himself a week -after with dismissing, for some slight offence, the girl who allowed -herself to be kissed. If they shut their eyes to the terrible doings -of their employees outdoors, the managers did not tolerate the least -nonsense in the house. - -And it was Denise who suffered for all this. Madame Aurélie, although -perfectly well aware of what was going on, nourished a secret rancour -against her; she saw her laughing one evening with Pauline, and took -it for bravado, concluding that they were gossiping over her son's -love-affairs. And she caused the young girl to be isolated more than -ever in the department. For some time she had been thinking of inviting -the young ladies to spend a Sunday near Rambouillet, at Rigolles, where -she had bought a country house with the first hundred thousand francs -she had saved; and she suddenly decided to do so; it would be a means -of punishing Denise, of putting her openly on one side. She was the only -one not invited. For a fortnight in advance, nothing was talked of but -this party; the girls kept their eyes on the sky, and had already -mapped out the whole day, looking forward to all sorts of pleasures: -donkey-riding, milk and brown bread. And they were to be all women, -which was more amusing still! As a rule, Madame Aurélie killed her -holidays in this way, going out with her lady friends; for she was so -little accustomed to being at home, she always felt so uncomfortable, so -strange, during the rare occasions she could dine with her husband and -son, that she preferred to throw up even those occasions, and go and -dine at a restaurant. Lhomme went his own way, enraptured to resume -his bachelor existence, and Albert, greatly relieved, went off with -his beauties; so that, unaccustomed to being at home, feeling in each -other's way, and wearying each other when together on a Sunday, they -paid nothing more than a flying visit to the house, as to some common -hôtel where people take a bed for the night. Regarding the excursion -to Rambouillet, Madame Aurélie simply declared that propriety prevented -Albert joining them, and that the father himself would display great -tact by refusing to come; a declaration which enchanted the two men. -However, the happy day was drawing near, and the young girls chattered -more than ever, relating their preparations in the way of dress, as if -they were going on a six months' tour, whilst Denise had to listen to -them, pale and silent in her abandonment. - -“Ah, they make you wild, don't they?” said Pauline to her one morning. -“If I were you I would just catch them nicely! They are going to enjoy -themselves. I would enjoy myself too. Come with us on Sunday, Baugé is -going to take me to Joinville.” - -“No, thanks,” said the young girl with her quiet obstinacy. - -“But why not? Are you still afraid of being taken by force?” - -And Pauline, laughed heartily. Denise also smiled. She knew how such -things came about; it was always during some similar excursions that the -young ladies had made the acquaintance of their first lovers, brought by -chance by a friend; and she did not want to. - -“Come,” resumed Pauline, “I assure you that Baugé won't bring any one. -We shall be all by ourselves. As you don't want to, I won't go and marry -you off, of course.” - -Denise hesitated, tormented by such a strong desire to go that the blood -flew to her cheeks. Since the girls had been talking about their country -pleasures she had felt stifled, overcome by a longing for fresh air, -dreaming of the tall grass into which she could sink down up to the -neck, of the giant trees the shadows of which should flow over her like -so much cooling water. Her childhood, spent in the rich verdure of the -Cotentin, was awakening with a regret for sun and air. - -“Well! yes,” said she at last. - -Everything was soon arranged. Baugé was to come and fetch them at eight -o'clock, in the Place Gaillon; from there they would take a cab to the -Vincennes Station. Denise, whose twenty-five francs a month was quickly -swallowed up by the children, had only been able to do up her old black -woollen dress, by trimming it with strips of check poplin; and she had -also made herself a bonnet, a shape covered with silk and ornamented -with a simple blue ribbon. In this simple attire she looked very -young, like an overgrown girl, exceedingly clean, rather shamefaced and -embarrassed by her luxuriant hair, which appeared through the nakedness -of her bonnet. - -Pauline, on the contrary, displayed a pretty violet and white striped -silk dress, a hat richly trimmed and laden with feathers, jewels round -her neck and rings on her fingers, which gave her the appearance of a -well-to-do tradesman's wife. It was like a Sunday revenge on the woollen -dress she was obliged to wear all the week in the shop; whilst Denise, -who wore her uniform silk from Monday to Saturday, resumed, on Sunday, -her thin woollen dress of misery. - -“There's Baugé,” said Pauline, pointing to a tall fellow standing near -the fountain. - -She introduced her lover, and Denise felt at her ease at once, he seemed -such a nice fellow. Baugé, big, strong as an ox, had a long Flemish -face, in which his expressionless eyes twinkled with an infantine -puerility. Born at Dunkerque, the younger son of a grocer, he had come -to Paris, almost turned out by his father and brother, who thought him -a fearful dunce. However, he made three thousand five hundred francs a -year at the Bon Marche. He was rather stupid, but a very good hand in -the linen department. The women thought him nice. - -“And the cab?” asked Pauline. - -They had to go as far as the Boulevard. It was already rather warm -in the sun, the glorious May morning seemed to laugh on the street -pavement. There was not a cloud in the sky; quite a gaiety floated in -the blue air, transparent as crystal. An involuntary smile played on -Denise's lips; she breathed freely; it seemed to her that her bosom was -throwing off the stifling sensation of six months. At last she no -longer felt the stuffy air and the heavy stones of The Ladies' Paradise -weighing her down! She had then the prospect of a long day in the -country before her! and it was like a new lease of life, an endless joy, -into which she entered with all the glee of a little child. However, -when in the cab, she turned her eyes away, feeling very awkward as -Pauline bent over to kiss her lover. - -“Oh, look!” said she, her head still at the window, “there's Monsieur -Lhomme. How he does walk!” - -“He's got his French horn,” added Pauline, leaning out. “What an old -stupid! One would think he was running to meet his girl!” - -Lhomme, with his instrument under his arm, was spinning along past -the Gymnase Theatre, his nose in the air, laughing with delight at the -thought of the treat in store for him. He was going to spend the day at -a friend's, a flautist at a small theatre, where a few amateurs indulged -in a little chamber music on Sundays as soon as breakfast was over. - -“At eight o'clock! what a madman!” resumed Pauline. “And you know that -Madame Aurélie and all her clique must have taken the Rambouillet train -that left at half-past six. It's very certain the husband and wife won't -come across each other.” - -Both then commenced talking of the Rambouillet excursion. They did not -wish it to be rainy for the others, because they themselves would be -obliged to suffer as well; but if a cloud could burst over there without -extending to Joinville, it would be funny all the same. Then they -attacked Clara, a dirty slut, who hardly knew how to spend the money -her men gave her: hadn't she bought three pairs of boots all at the same -time, which she threw away the next day, after having cut them with her -scissors, on account of her feet, which were covered with bunions. In -fact, the young ladies were just as bad as the fellows, they squandered -everything, never saving a sou, wasting two or three hundred francs a -month on dress and dainties. - -“But he's only got one arm,” said Baugé all of a sudden. “How does he -manage to play the French horn?” - -He had kept his eyes on Lhomme. Pauline, who sometimes amused herself by -playing on his stupidity, told him the cashier kept the instrument up -by placing it against a wall. He thoroughly believed her, and thought it -very ingenious. Then, when stricken with remorse, she explained to him -in what way Lhomme had adapted to his stump a system of keys which he -made use of as a hand, he shook his head, full of suspicion, declaring -that they wouldn't make him swallow that. - -“You are ready too stupid!” she retorted, laughingly. “Never mind, I love -you all the same.” - -They reached the Vincennes Station just in time for a train. Baugé paid; -but Denise had previously declared that she wished to pay her share -of the expenses; they would settle up in the evening. They took -second-class tickets, and found the train full of a gay noisy throng. -At Nogent, a wedding-party got out, amidst a storm of laughter. At last -they arrived at Joinville and went straight to the island to order -lunch; and they stopped there, lingering on the banks of the Marne, -under the tall poplars. It was rather cold in the shade, a sharp breese -was blowing in the sunshine, extending far into the distance, on the -other side of the river, the limpid parity of a plain dotted with -cultivated fields. Denise lingered behind Pauline and her lover, who -were walking with their arms round each others waists. She had picked -a handful of buttercups, and was watching the view of the river, happy, -her heart beating, her head drooping, each time Baugé leant over to kiss -his mistress. Her eyes filled with tears. And yet she was not suffering. -What was the matter with her that she had this feeling of suffocation? -and why did this vast landscape, where she had looked forward to having -so much enjoyment, fill her with a vague regret she could not explain? -Then, at lunch, Pauline's noisy laugh bewildered her. That young lady, -who loved the suburbs with the passion of an actress living in the -gas-light, in the thick air of a crowd, wanted to lunch in an arbour, -notwithstanding the sharp wind. She was delighted with the sudden gusts -which blew up the table-cloth, she thought the arbour very funny in its -nudity, with the freshly-painted trelliswork, the lozenges of which cast -a reflection on the cloth. She ate ravenously, devouring everything with -the voracity of a girl badly fed at the shop, making up for it outside -by giving herself an indigestion with the things she liked; this was her -vice, she spent most of her money in cakes and indigestible dainties -of all kinds, favourite dishes stowed away in her leisure moments. As -Denise seemed to have had enough of the eggs, fried fish, and stewed -chicken, she restrained herself, not daring to order any strawberries, a -luxury still very dear, for fear of running the bill up too high. - -“Now, what are we going to do?” asked Baugé when the coffee was served. - -As a rule Pauline and he returned to Paris to dine, and finish their -day in some theatre. But at Denise's request, they decided to stay at -Joinville all day; they would be able to have their fill of the country. -So they stopped and wandered about the fields all the afternoon. They -spoke for a moment of going for a row, but abandoned the idea; Baugé was -not a good waterman. But they found themselves walking along the banks -of the Marne, all the same, and were greatly interested by the life on -the river, the squadrons of yawls and other boats, and the young men -who formed the crews. The sun was going down, they were returning to -Joinville, when they saw two boats coming down stream at a racing -speed, exchanging volleys of insults, in which the repeated cries of -“Sawbones!” and “Counter-jumpers!” dominated. - -“Hallo!” said Pauline, “it's Monsieur Hutin.” - -“Yes,” said Baugé, shading his face with his hand, “I recognise his -mahogany boat. The other one is manned by students, no doubt.” - -And he explained the deadly hatred existing between the young students -and the shopmen. Denise, on hearing Hutin's name mentioned, suddenly -stopped, and followed, with fixed eyes, the frail skiff spinning along -like an arrow. She tried to distinguish the young man among the rowers, -but could only manage to make out the white dresses of two women, one of -whom, who was steering, wore a red hat. Their voices were drowned by the -rapid flow of the river. - -“Pitch 'em in, the sawbones!” - -“Duck 'em, the counter-jumpers!” - -In the evening they returned to the restaurant on the island. But it had -turned too chilly, they were obliged to dine in one of the closed rooms, -where the table-cloths were still damp from the humidity of the winter. -After six o'clock the tables were all occupied, yet the excursionists -still hurried in, looking for a corner; and the waiters continued to -bring in more chairs and forms, putting the plates closer together, and -crowding the people up. It was stifling, they had to open the windows. -Outdoors, the day was waning, a greenish twilight fell from the poplars -so quickly that the proprietor, unprepared for these meals under cover, -and having no lamps, was obliged to put a wax candle on each table. The -uproar became deafening with laughing, calling out, and the clacking of -the table utensils; the candles flared and melted in the draught from -the windows, whilst moths fluttered about in the air, warmed by the -odour of the food, and traversed by sudden gusts of cold wind. - -“What fun they're having, eh?” said Pauline, very busy with a plate -of matelote, which she declared extraordinary. She leant over to add: -“Didn't you see Monsieur Albert over there?” - -It was really young Lhomme, in the middle of three questionable women, -a vulgar-looking old lady in a yellow bonnet, suspiciously like a -procuress, and two young girls of thirteen or fourteen, forward and -painfully impudent creatures. He, already intoxicated, was knocking his -glass on the table, and talking of drubbing the waiter if he did not -bring some “liqueurs” immediately. - -“Well!” resumed Pauline, “there's a family, if you like! the mother at -Rambouillet, the father in Paris; and the son at Joinville; they won't -tread on one another's toes!” - -Denise, who detested noise, smiled, however, and tasted the joy of -ceasing to think, amid such uproar. But all at once they heard a noise -in the other room, a burst of voices which drowned the others. They -were yelling, and must have come to blows, for one could hear a scuffle, -chairs falling down, quite a struggle, amid which the river-cries again -resounded: - -“Duck 'em, the counter-jumpers!” - -“Pitch 'em in, the sawbones!” - -And when the hotel-keeper's loud voice had calmed this tempest, Hutin -suddenly made his appearance, wearing a red jersey, and a little cap -at the back of his head; he had on his arm the tall, fair girl, who had -been steering, and who, in order to wear the boat's colours, had planted -a bunch of poppies behind her ear. They were greeted on entering by a -storm of applause; and his face beamed with pride, he swelled out his -chest, assuming a nautical rolling gait, showing off a blow which had -blackened his cheek, puffed up with joy at being noticed. Behind them -followed the crew. They took a table by storm, and the uproar became -something fearful. - -“It appears,” explained Baugé, after having listened to the conversation -behind him, “it appears that the students have recognised the woman -with Hutin as an old friend from their neighbourhood, who now sings in -a music-hall at Montmartre. So they were kicking up a row for her. These -students never pay their women.” - -“In any case,” said Pauline, stiffly, “she's jolly ugly, with her -carroty hair. Really, I don't know where Monsieur Hutin picks them up, -but they're an ugly, dirty lot.” - -Denise had turned pale, and felt an icy coldness, as if her heart's -blood were flowing away, drop by drop. She had already, on seeing the -boats from the bank, felt a shiver; but now she no longer had any doubt, -this girl was certainly with Hutin. With trembling hands, and a choking -sensation in her throat, she ceased eating. - -“What's the matter?” asked her friend. - -“Nothing,” stammered she; “it's rather warm here.” - -But Hutin's table was close to theirs, and when he perceived Baugé, -whom he knew, he commenced a conversation in a shrill voice, in order to -attract further attention. - -“I say,” cried he, “are you as virtuous as ever at the Bon Marche?” - -“Not so much as all that,” replied Baugé, turning very red. - -“That won't do! You know they only take virgins there, and there's a -confessional box permanently fixed for the salesmen who venture to look -at them. A house where they marry you--no, thanks!” - -The other fellows began to laugh. Liénard, who belonged to the crew, -added: “It isn't like the Louvre. There they have a midwife attached to -the ready-made department. My word of honour!” - -The gaiety increased; Pauline herself burst out, the idea of the midwife -seemed so funny. But Baugé was annoyed by the jokes about the innocence -of his house. He launched out all at once: “Oh, you're not too well off -at The Ladies' Paradise. Sacked for the slightest thing! And a governor -who seems to tout for his lady customers.” - -Hutin no longer listened to him, but commenced to praise the house in -the Place Clichÿ. He knew a young girl there so excessively aristocratic -that the customers dared not speak to her for fear of humiliating her. -Then, drawing up closer, he related that he had made a hundred and -fifteen francs that week; oh! a capital week. Favier left behind with -fifty-two francs, the whole lot floored. And it was visible he was -bursting with money, he would not go to bed till he had liquidated the -hundred and fifteen francs. Then, as he gradually became intoxicated, -he attacked Robineau, that fool of a second-hand who affected to keep -himself apart, going so far as to refuse to walk in the street with one -of his salesmen. - -“Shut up,” said Liénard; “you talk too much, old man.” - -The heat had increased, the candles were guttering down on to the -table-cloths stained with wine; and through the open windows, when the -noise within ceased for an instant, there entered a distant prolonged -voice, the voice of the river, and of the tall poplars sleeping in the -calm night. Baugé had just called for the bill, seeing that Denise was -now quite white, her throat choked by the tears she withheld; but the -waiter did not appear, and she had to submit to Hutin's loud talk. He -was now boasting of being more superior to Liénard, because Liénard -cared for nothing, simply squandering his father's money, whilst he, -Hutin, was spending his own earnings, the fruit of his intelligence. At -last Baugé paid, and the two girls went out. - -“There's one from the Louvre,” murmured Pauline in the outer room, -looking at a tall thin girl putting on her mantle. - -“You don't know her. You can't tell,” said the young man. - -“Oh, can't I? They've got a way of draping themselves. She belongs to -the midwife's department! If she heard, she must be pleased.” - -They got outside at last, and Denise heaved a sigh of relief. For a -moment she had thought she was going to die in that suffocating heat, -amidst all those cries; and she still attributed her faintness to the -want of air. Now she breathed freely in the freshness of the starry -night As the two young girls were leaving the garden of the restaurant, -a timid voice murmured in the shade: “Good evening, ladies.” - -It was Deloche. They had not seen him at the further end of the front -room, where he was dining alone, after having come from Paris on foot, -for the pleasure of the walk. On recognising this friendly voice, -Denise, suffering, yielded mechanically to the want of some support. - -“Monsieur Deloche, come back with us,” said she. “Give me your arm.” - -Pauline and Baugé had already gone on in front. They were astonished, -never thinking it would turn out like this, and with this fellow above -all. However, as there was still an hour before the train started, -they went to the end of the island, following the bank, under the tall -poplars; and, from time to time, they turned round, murmuring: “But -where are they? Ah, there they are. It's rather funny, all the same.” - -At first Denise and Deloche remained silent The noise from the -restaurant was slowly dying away, changing into a musical sweetness in -the calmness of the night; and they went further in amongst the cool of -the trees, still feverish from that furnace, the lights of which were -disappearing one by one behind the foliage. Opposite them there was a -sort of shadowy wall, a mass of shade in which the trunks and branches -buried themselves so compact that they could not even distinguish any -trace of the path. However, they went forward quietly, without fear. -Then, their eyes getting more accustomed to the darkness, they saw on -the right the trunks of the poplars, resembling sombre columns upholding -the domes of their branches, pierced with stars; whilst on the right the -water assumed occasionally in the darkness the brightness of a mirror. -The wind was subsiding, they no longer heard anything but the flowing of -the river. - -“I am very pleased to have met you,” stammered Deloche at last, making -up his mind to speak first. “You can't think how happy you render me in -consenting to walk with me.” - -And, aided by the darkness, after many awkward attempts, he ventured to -tell her he loved her. He had long wanted to write to her and tell her -so; and perhaps she would never have known it had it not been for this -lovely night coming to his assistance, this water that murmured so -softly, and these trees which screened them with their shade. But she -did not reply; she continued to walk by his side with the same suffering -air. And he was trying to look into her face, when he heard a sob. - -“Oh! good heavens!” he exclaimed, “you are crying, mademoiselle, you are -crying! Have I offended you?” - -“No, no,” she murmured. - -She tried to keep back her tears, but she could not. Even when at table, -she had thought her heart was about to burst. She abandoned herself in -the darkness entirely, stifled by her sobs, thinking that if Hutin had -been in Deloche's place and said such tender things to her, she would -have been unable to resist. This confession made to herself filled her -with confusion. A feeling of shame burnt her face, as if she had already -fallen into the arms of that Hutin, who was disporting himself with -those girls. - -“I didn't mean to offend you,” continued Deloche, almost crying also. - -“No, but listen,” said she, her voice still trembling; “I am not at all -angry with you. But never speak to me again as you have just done. What -you ask is impossible. Oh! you're a good fellow, and I'm quite willing -to be your friend, but nothing more. You understand--your friend.” - -He shuddered. After a few steps taken in silence, he stammered: “In -fact, you don't love me?” - -And as she spared him the pain of a brutal “no,” he resumed in a soft, -heart-broken voice: “Oh, I was prepared for it I have never had any -luck, I know I can never be happy. At home, they used to beat me. In -Paris, I've always been a drudge. You see, when one does not know how -to rob other fellows of their mistresses, and when one is too awkward to -earn as much as the others, why the best thing is to go into some corner -and die. Never fear, I sha'n't torment you any more. As for loving you, -you can't prevent me, can you? I shall love you for nothing, like a dog. -There, everything escapes me, that's my luck in life.” - -And he, too, burst into tears. She tried to console him, and in their -friendly effusion they found they belonged to the same department--she -to Valognes, he to Briquebec, eight miles from each other, and this was -a fresh tie. His father, a poor, needy bailiff, and sickly jealous, used -to drub him, calling him a bastard, exasperated with his long pale face -and tow-like hair, which, said he, did not belong to the family. And -they got talking about the vast pastures, surrounded with quick-set -hedges, of the shady paths winding beneath the elm trees, and of the -grass grown roads, like the alleys in a park. - -Around them night was getting darker, but they could still distinguish -the rushes on the banks, and the interlaced foliage, black beneath the -twinkling stars; and a peacefulness came over them, they forgot their -troubles, brought nearer by their ill-luck, in a closer feeling of -friendship. - -“Well?” asked Pauline of Denise, taking her aside when they arrived at -the station. - -The young girl understood by the smile and the stare of tender -curiosity; she turned very red and replied: “But--never, my dear! I told -you I did not wish to! He belongs to my part of the country. We were -talking about Valognes.” - -Pauline and Baugé were perplexed, put out in their ideas, not knowing -what to think. Deloche left them in the Place de la Bastille; like all -young probationers, he slept at the house, where he had to be in by -eleven o'clock. Not wishing to go in with him, Denise, who had got -permission to go to the theatre, accepted Baugé's invitation to -accompany Pauline to his home--he, in order to be nearer his mistress, -had moved into the Rue Saint-Roch. They took a cab, and Denise was -stupefied on learning on the way that her friend was going to stay all -night with the young man--nothing was easier, they only had to give -Madame Cabin five francs, all the young ladies did it. Baugé did the -honours of his room, which was furnished with old Empire furniture, -given him by his father. He got angry when Denise spoke of settling up, -but at last accepted the fifteen francs twelve sous which she had laid -on the chest of drawers; but he insisted on making her a cup of tea, and -he struggled with a spirit-lamp and saucepan, and then was obliged to go -and fetch some sugar. Midnight struck as he was pouring out the tea. - -“I must be off,” said Denise. - -“Presently,” replied Pauline. “The theatres don't close so early.” - -Denise felt uncomfortable in this bachelor's room. She had seen her -friend take off her things, turn down the bed, open it, and pat the -pillows with her naked arms; and these preparations for a night of -love-making carried on before her, troubled her, and made her feel -ashamed, awakening once in her wounded heart the recollection of Hutin. -Such ideas were not very salutary. At last she left them, at a quarter -past twelve. But she went away confused, when in reply to her innocent -“good night,” Pauline cried out, thoughtlessly; “Thanks, we are sure to -have a good one!” - -The private door leading to Mouret's apartments and to the employees' -bedrooms was in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin. Madame Cabin opened the -door and gave a glance in order to mark the return. A night-light -was burning dimly in the hall, and Denise, finding herself in this -uncertain light, hesitated, and was seized with fear, for on turning the -corner of the street, she had seen the door close on the vague shadow of -a man. It must have been the governor coming home from a party, -and the idea that he was there in the dark waiting for her perhaps, -caused her one of those strange fears with which he still inspired her, -without any reasonable cause. Some one moved on the first-floor, a boot -creaked, and losing her head entirely, she pushed open a door which led -into the shop, and which was always left open for the night-watch. She -was in the printed cotton department. - -“Good heavens! what shall I do?” she stammered, in her emotion. - -The idea occurred to her that there was another door upstairs leading -to the bedrooms; but she would have to go right across the shop. She -preferred this, notwithstanding the darkness reigning in the galleries. -Not a gas-jet was burning, there were only a few oil-lamps hung here and -there on the branches of the lustres; and these scattered lights, like -yellow patches, their rays lost in the gloom, resembled the lanterns -hung up in a mine. Big shadows loomed in the air; one could hardly -distinguish the piles of goods, which assumed alarming profiles: fallen -columns, squatting beasts, and lurking thieves. The heavy silence, -broken by distant respirations, increased still more the darkness. -However, she saw where she was. The linen department on her left formed -a dead colour, like the blueiness of houses in the street under a summer -sky; then she wished to cross the hall immediately, but running up -against some piles of printed calico, she thought it safer to follow the -hosiery department, and then the woollen one. There she was frightened -by a loud noise of snoring. It was Joseph, the messenger, sleeping -behind some articles of mourning. She quickly ran into the hall, now -illuminated by the skylight, with a sort of crepuscular light which -made it appear larger, full of a nocturnal church-like terror, with the -immobility of its shelves, and the shadows of its yard-measures which -described reversed crosses. She now fairly ran away. In the mercery and -glove departments she nearly walked over some more messengers, and only -felt safe when she at last found herself on the staircase. But upstairs, -before the ready-made department, she was seized with fear on perceiving -a lantern moving forward, twinkling in the darkness. It was the watch, -two firemen marking their passage on the faces of the indicators. She -stood a moment unable to understand it, watched them passing from -the shawl to the furniture department, then to the under-linen, -terrified by their strange manouvres, by the grinding of the key, and -by the closing of the iron doors which made a murderous noise. When they -approached, she took refuge in the lace department, but a sound of -talking made her hastily depart, and run off to the outer door. She had -recognised Deloche's voice. He slept in his department, on a little iron -bedstead which he set up himself every evening; and he was not asleep -yet, recalling the pleasant hours he had just spent. - -“What! it's you, mademoiselle?” said Mouret, whom Denise found before -her on the staircase, a small pocket-candlestick in his hand. - -She stammered, and tried to explain that she had come to look for -something. But he was not angry. He looked at her with his paternal, and -at the same time curious, air. - -“You had permission to go to the theatre, then?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“And have you enjoyed yourself? What theatre did you go to?” - -“I have been in the country, sir.” - -That made him laugh. Then he asked, laying a certain stress on his -question: “All alone?” - -“No, sir; with a lady friend,” replied she, her cheeks burning, shocked -at the idea which he no doubt entertained. - -He said no more; but he was still looking at her in her simple black -dress and hat trimmed with a single blue ribbon. Was this little savage -going to turn out a pretty girl? She looked all the better for her -day in the open air, charming with her splendid hair falling over her -forehead. And he, who during the last six months had treated her like -a child, some times giving her advice, yielding to a desire to gain -experience, to a wicked wish to know how a woman sprung up and lost -herself in Paris, no longer laughed, experiencing a feeling of -surprise and fear mingled with tenderness. No doubt it was a lover who -embellished her like this. At this thought he felt as if stung to the -quick by a favourite bird, with which he was playing. - -“Good night, sir,” murmured Denise, continuing her way without waiting. - -He did not answer, but stood watching her till she dis appeared. Then he -entered his own apartments. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -When the dead summer season arrived, there was quite a panic at The -Ladies' Paradise. The reign of terror commenced, a great many employees -were sent away on leave, and others were dismissed in dozens by the -principals, who wished to clear the shop, no customers appearing during -the July and August heat. Mouret, on making his daily inspection with -Burdoncle, called aside the managers, whom he had prompted during the -winter to engage more men than were necessary, so that the business -should not suffer, leaving them to weed out their staff later on. It was -now a question of reducing expenses by getting rid of quite a third of -the shop people, the weak ones who allowed themselves to be swallowed up -by the strong ones. - -“Come,” he would say, “you must have some who don't suit you. We can't -keep them all this time doing nothing.” - -And if the manager hesitated, hardly knowing whom to sacrifice, he would -continue; “Make your arrangements, six salesmen must suffice; you can -take on others in October, there are plenty to be had!” - -As a rule Bourdoncle undertook the executions. He had a terrible way of -saying: “Go and be paid!” which fell like a blow from an axe. Anything -served him as a pretext for clearing off the superfluous staff. He -invented misdeeds, speculating on the slightest negligence. “You were -sitting down, sir; go and be paid!” - -“You dare to answer me; go and be paid!” - -“Your shoes are not clean; go and be paid!” And even the bravest -trembled in presence of the massacre which he left behind him. Then, -this system not working quick enough, he invented a trap by which he got -rid in a few days, without fatigue, of the number of salesmen condemned -beforehand. At eight o'clock, he took his stand at the door, watch in -hand; and at three minutes past the hour, the breathless young people -were greeted with the implacable “Go and be paid!” This was a quick and -cleanly method of doing the work. - -“You've an ugly mug,” he ended by saying one day to a poor wretch whose -nose, all on one side, annoyed him, “go and be paid!” - -The favoured ones obtained a fortnight's holiday without pay, which was -a more humane way of lessening the expenses. The salesmen accepted their -precarious situation, obliged to do so by necessity and habit. Since -their arrival in Paris, they had roamed about, commencing their -apprenticeship here, finishing it there, getting dismissed or themselves -resigning all at once, as interest dictated. When business stood still, -the workmen were deprived of their daily bread; and this was well -understood in the indifferent march of the machine, the useless -workmen were quietly thrown aside, like so much old plant, there was no -gratitude shown for services rendered. So much the worse for those who -did not know how to look after themselves! - -Nothing else was now talked of in the various departments. Fresh stories -circulated every day. The dismissed salesmen were named, as one counts -the dead in time of cholera. The shawl and the woollen departments -suffered especially; seven employees disappeared from them in one week. -Then the underlinen department was thrown into confusion, a customer -had nearly fainted away, accusing the young person who had served her of -eating garlic; and the latter was dismissed at once, although, badly -fed and dying of hunger, she was simply finishing a collection of -bread crusts at the counter. The authorities were pitiless at the least -complaint from the customers; no excuse was admitted, the employee was -always wrong, and had to disappear like a defective instrument, hurtful -to the proper working of the business; and the others bowed their heads, -not even attempting any defence. In the panic which was raging each one -trembled for himself. Mignot, going out one day with a parcel under his -coat, notwithstanding the rules, was nearly caught, and really thought -himself lost. Liénard, who was celebrated for his idleness, owed to his -father's position in the drapery trade that he was not turned away one -afternoon that Bourdoncle found him dozing between two piles of English -velvets. But the Lhommes were especially anxious, expecting every day -to see their son Albert sent away, the governor being very dissatisfied -with his conduct at the pay-desk. He frequently had women there who -distracted his attention from his work; and twice Madame Aurélie had -been obliged to plead for him with the principals. - -Denise was so menaced amid this general clearance, that she lived in the -constant expectation of a catastrophe. It was in vain that she summoned -up her courage, struggling with all her gaiety and all her reason not -to yield to the misgivings of her tender nature; she burst out into -blinding tears as soon as she had closed the door of her bedroom, -desolated at the thought of seeing herself in the street, on bad terms -with her uncle, not knowing where to go, without a sou saved, and having -the two children to look after. The sensations she had felt the first -few weeks sprang up again, she fancied herself a grain of seed under -a powerful millstone; and, utterly discouraged, she abandoned herself -entirely to the thought of what a small atom she was in this great -machine, which would certainly crush her with its quiet indifference. -There was no illusion possible; if they sent away any one from her -department she knew it would be her. No doubt, during the Rambouillet -excursion, the other young ladies had incensed Madame Aurélie against -her, for since then that lady had treated her with an air of severity in -which there was a certain rancour. Besides, they could not forgive her -going to Joinville, regarding it as a sign of revolt, a means of setting -the whole department at defiance, by parading about with a young -lady from a rival counter. Never had Denise suffered so much in the -department, and she now gave up all hope of conquering it. - -“Let them alone!” repeated Pauline, “a lot of stuck-up things, as stupid -as donkeys!” - -But it was just these fine lady airs which intimidated Denise. Nearly -all the saleswomen, by their daily contact with the rich customers, -assumed certain graces, and finished by forming a vague nameless class, -something between a work-girl and a middle-class lady. But beneath their -art in dress, and the manners and phrases learnt by heart, there was -often only a false superficial education, the fruits of attending cheap -theatres and music-halls, and picking up all the current stupidities of -the Paris pavement. - -“You know the 'unkempt girl' has got a child?” said Clara one morning, -on arriving in the department. And, as they seemed astonished, she -continued: “I saw her yesterday myself taking the child out for a walk! -She's got it stowed away in the neighbourhood, somewhere.” - -Two days after, Margueritte came up after dinner with another piece -of news. “A nice thing, I've just seen the 'unkempt girl's' lover--a -workman, just fancy! Yes, a dirty little workman, with yellow hair, who -was watching her through the windows.” - -From that moment it was an accepted truth: Denise had a workman for -a lover, and an infant concealed somewhere in the neighbourhood. They -overwhelmed her with spiteful allusions. The first time she understood -she turned quite pale before the monstrosity of their suppositions. It -was abominable; she tried to explain, and stammered out: “But they are -my brothers!” - -“Oh! oh! her brothers!” said Clara in a bantering tone. - -Madame Aurélie was obliged to interfere. “Be quiet! young ladies. You -had better go on changing those tickets. Mademoiselle Baudu is quite -free to misbehave herself out of doors, if only she worked a bit when -here.” - -This curt defence was a condemnation. The young girl, feeling choked as -if they had accused her of a crime, vainly endeavoured to explain the -facts. They laughed and shrugged their shoulders, and she felt wounded -to the heart On hearing the rumour, Deloche was so indignant that he -wanted to slap the faces of the young ladies in Denise's department; and -was only restrained by the fear of compromising her. Since the evening -at Joinville, he entertained a submissive love, an almost religious -friendship for her, which he proved by his faithful doglike looks. He -was careful not to show his affection before the others, for they would -have laughed at them; but that did not prevent his dreaming of the -avenging blow, if ever any one should attack her before him. - -Denise finished by not answering the insults. It was too odious, nobody -would believe it. When any girl ventured a fresh allusion, she contented -herself with looking at her with a sad, calm air. Besides, she had other -troubles, material anxieties which took up her attention. Jean went on -as bad as ever, always worrying her for money. Hardly a week passed that -she did not receive some fresh story from him, four pages long; and -when the house postman brought her these letters, in a big, passionate -handwriting, she hastened to hide them in her pocket, for the saleswomen -affected to laugh, and sung snatches of some doubtful ditties. -Then after having invented a pretext to go to the other end of the -establishment and read the letters, she was seized with fear; poor Jean -seemed to be lost. All his fibs went down with her, she believed all -his extraordinary love adventures, her complete ignorance of such things -making her exaggerate the danger. Sometimes it was a two-franc piece -to enable him to escape the jealousy of some woman; at other times five -francs, six francs, to get some poor girl out of a scrape, whose father -would otherwise kill her. So that as her salary and commission did not -suffice, she had conceived the idea of looking for a little work after -business hours. She spoke about it to Robineau, who had shown a certain -sympathy for her since their meeting at Vinçard's, and he had procured -her the making of some neckties at five sous a dozen. At night, between -nine and one o'clock, she could do six dozen, which made thirty sous, -out of which she had to deduct four sous for a candle. But as this sum -kept Jean going she did not complain of the want of sleep, and would -have thought herself very happy had not another catastrophe once more -overthrown her budget calculations. At the end of the second fortnight, -when she went to the necktie-dealer, she found the door closed; the -woman had failed, become bankrupt, thus carrying off her eighteen francs -six sous, a considerable sum on which she had been counting for the -last week. All the annoyances in the department disappeared before this -disaster. - -“You look dull,” said Pauline, meeting her in the furniture gallery, -looking very pale. “Are you in want of anything?” - -But as Denise already owed her friend twelve francs, she tried to smile -and replied: “No, thanks. I've not slept well, that's all.” - -It was the twentieth of July, when the panic caused by the dismissals -was at its worst. Out of the four hundred employees, Bourdoncle had -already sacked fifty, and there were rumours of fresh executions. She -thought but little of the menaces which were flying about, entirely -taken up by the anguish of one of Jean's adventures, still more -terrifying than the others. This very day he wanted fifteen francs, -which sum alone could save him from the vengeance of an outraged -husband. The previous evening she had received the first letter opening -the drama; then, one after the other, came two more; in the last, which -she was finishing when Pauline met her, Jean announced his death -for that evening, if she did not send the money. She was in agony. -Impossible to take it out of Pépé's board, paid two days before. Every -sort of bad luck was pursuing her, for she had hoped to get her -eighteen francs six sous through Robineau, who could perhaps find the -necktie-dealer; but Robineau having got a fortnight's holiday, had not -returned the previous night as he was expected to do. - -However, Pauline still questioned her in a friendly way; when they -met, in an out-of-the-way department, they conversed for a few minutes, -keeping a sharp look-out the while. Suddenly, Pauline made a move as if -to run off, having observed the white tie of an inspector who was coming -out of the shawl department. - -“Ah! it's only old Jouve!” murmured she in a relieved tone. “I can't -think what makes the old man grin as he does when he sees us together. -In your place I should beware, for he's too kind to you. He's an old -humbug, as spiteful as a cat, and thinks he's still got his troopers to -talk to.” - -It was quite true; Jouve was detested by all the salespeople for the -severity of his treatment. More than half the dismissals were the result -of his reports; and with his big red nose of a rakish ex-captain, he -only exercised his leniency in the departments served by women. - -“Why should I be afraid?” asked Denise. - -“Well!” replied Pauline, laughing, “perhaps he may exact some return. -Several of the young ladies try to keep well with him.” - -Jouve had gone away, pretending not to see them; and they heard him -dropping on to a salesman in the lace department, guilty of watching a -fallen horse in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin. - -“By the way,” resumed Pauline, “weren't you looking for Monsieur -Robineau yesterday? He's come back.” - -Denise thought she was saved. “Thanks, I'll go round the other way then, -and pass through the silk department. So much the worse! They sent me -upstairs to the work-room to fetch a bodkin.” - -And they separated. The young girl, with a busy look, as if she were -running from pay-desk to pay-desk in search of something, arrived on the -stairs and went down into the hall. It was a quarter to ten, the -first lunch-bell had rung. A warm sun was playing on the windows, and -notwithstanding the grey linen blinds, the heat penetrated into the -stagnant air. Now and then a refreshing breath arose from the floor, -which the messengers were gently watering. It was a somnolence, a summer -siesta, in the midst of the empty space around the counters, like the -interior of a church wrapt in sleeping shadow after the last mass. -Some listless salesmen were standing about, a few rare customers were -crossing the galleries and the hall, with the fatigued step of women -annoyed by the sun. - -Just as Denise went down, Favier was measuring a dress length of -light silk, with pink spots, for Madame Boutarel, arrived in Paris the -previous day from the South. Since the commencement of the month, the -provinces had been sending up their detachments; one saw nothing but -queerly-dressed ladies with yellow shawls, green skirts, and flaring -bonnets. The shopmen, indifferent, were too indolent to laugh at them -even. Favier accompanied Madame Boutarel to the mercery department, and -on returning, said to Hutin: - -“Yesterday they were all Auvergnat women, to-day they're all -Provençales. I'm sick of them.” - -But Hutin rushed forward, it was his turn, and he had recognised “the -pretty lady,” the lovely blonde whom the department thus designated, -knowing nothing about her, not even her name. They all smiled at her, -not a week passed without her coming to The Ladies' Paradise, always -alone. This time she had a little boy of four or five with her, and this -gave rise to some comment. - -“She's married, then?” asked Favier, when Hutin returned from the -pay-desk, where he had debited her with thirty yards of Duchess satin. - -“Possibly,” replied he, “although the youngster proves nothing. Perhaps -he belongs to a lady friend. What's certain is, that she must have been -weeping. She's so melancholy, and her eyes are so red!” - -À silence ensued. The two salesmen gazed vaguely into the depths of the -shop. Then Favier resumed in a low voice; “If she's married, perhaps her -husband's given her a drubbing.” - -“Possibly,” repeated Hutin, “unless it be a lover who has left her.” And -after a fresh silence, he added: “Any way, I don't care a hang!” - -At this moment Denise crossed the silk department, slackening her pace -and looking around her, trying to find Robineau. She could not see him, -so she went into the linen department, then passed through again. The -two salesmen had noticed her movements. - -“There's that bag of bones again,” murmured Hutin. - -“She's looking for Robineau,” said Favier. “I can't think what they're -up to together. Oh! nothing smutty; Robineau's too big a fool. They say -he has procured her a little work, some neckties. What a spec, eh?” - -Hutin was meditating something spiteful. When Denise passed near he, he -stopped her, saying: “Is it me you're looking for?” - -She turned very red. Since the Joinville excursion, she dared not read -her heart, full of confused sensations. She was constantly recalling his -appearance with that red-haired girl, and if she still trembled before -him, it was doubtless from uneasiness. Had she ever loved him? Did she -love him still? She hardly liked to stir up these things, which were -painful to her. - -“No, sir,” she replied, embarrassed. - -Hutin then began to laugh at her uneasy manner. “Would you like us to -serve him to you? Favier, just serve this young lady with Robineau.” - -She looked at him fixedly, with the sad calm look with which she had -received the wounding remarks the young ladies had made about her. Ah! -he was spiteful, he attacked her as well as the others! And she felt a -sort of supreme anguish, the breaking of a last tie. Her face expressed -such real suffering, that Favier, though not of a very tender nature, -came to her assistance. - -“Monsieur Robineau is in the stock-room,” said he. “No doubt he will -be back for lunch. You'll find him here this afternoon, if you want to -speak to him.” - -Denise thanked him, and went up to her department, where Madamé Aurélie -was waiting for her in a terrible rage. What! she had been gone half an -hour! Where had she just sprung from? Not from the work-room, that -was quite certain! The poor girl hung down her head, thinking of this -avalanche of misfortunes. All would be over if Robineau did not come in. -However, she resolved to go down again. - -In the silk department, Robineau's return had provoked quite a -revolution. The salesmen had hoped that, disgusted with the annoyances -they were incessantly causing him, he would not return; and, in fact, -there was a moment, when pressed by Vinçard to take over his business, -he had almost decided to do so. Hutin's secret working, the mine he had -been laying under the second-hand's feet for months past, was about to -be sprung. During Robineau's holidays, Hutin, who had taken his place -as second-hand, had done his best to injure him in the minds of the -principals, and get possession of his situation by an excess of zeal; he -discovered and reported all sorts of trifling irregularities, suggested -improvements, and invented new designs. In fact, every one in the -department, from the unpaid probationer, longing to become a salesman, -up to the first salesman who coveted the situation of manager, they all -had one fixed idea, and that was to dislodge the comrade above them, to -ascend another rung of the ladder, swallowing him up if necessary; and -this struggle of appetites, this pushing the one against the other, even -contributed to the better working of the machine, provoking business -and increasing tenfold the success which was astonishing Paris. Behind -Hutin, there was Favier; then behind Favier came the others, in a long -line. One heard a loud noise as of jaw-bones working. Robineau was -condemned, each one was grabbing after his bone. So that when the -second-hand reappeared there was a general grumbling. The matter had to -be settled, the salesmen's attitude appeared so menacing, that the head -of the department had sent Robineau to the stock-room, in order to give -the authorities time to come to a decision. - -“We would sooner all leave, if they keep him,” declared Hutin. - -This affair bothered Bouthemont, whose gaiety ill-accorded with such -an internal vexation. He was pained to see nothing but scowling faces -around him. However, he wished to be just “Come, leave him alone, he -doesn't hurt you.” - -But they protested energetically. “What! doesn't hurt us! An -insupportable object, always irritable, capable of walking over your -body, he's so proud!” - -This was the great bitterness of the department Robineau, nervous as -a woman, was intolerably stiff and susceptible. They related scores of -stories, a poor little fellow who had fallen ill through it, and lady -customers even who had been humiliated by his nasty remarks. - -“Well, gentlemen, I won't take anything on myself,” said Bouthemont. -“I've notified the directors, and am going to speak about it shortly.” - -The second lunch-bell rang, the clang of which came up from the -basement, distant and deadened in the close air of the shop. Hutin and -Favier went down. From all the counters, the salesmen were arriving one -by one, helter-skelter, hastening below to the narrow entrance to the -kitchen, a damp passage always lighted with gas. The throng pushed -forward, without a laugh or a word, amidst an increasing noise of -crockery and a strong odour of food. At the extremity of the passage -there was a sudden halt, before a wicket. Flanked with piles of plates, -armed with forks and spoons, which he was plunging in the copper-pans, a -cook was distributing the portions. And when he stood aside, the flaring -kitchen could be seen behind his white-covered belly. - -“Of course!” muttered Hutin, consulting the bill of fare, written on a -black-board above the wicket. “Beef and pungent sauce, or skate. Never -any roast meat in this rotten shop! Their boiled beef and fish don't -do a bit of good to a fellow!” Moreover, the fish was universally -neglected, for the pan was quite full. Favier, however, took some skate. -Behind him, Hutin stooped down, saying: “Beef and pungent sauce.” With -a mechanical movement, the cook picked up a piece of meat, and poured -a spoonful of sauce over it; and Hutin, suffocated by the ardent breath -from the kitchen, had hardly got his portion, before the words, “Beef, -pungent sauce; beef, pungent sauce,” followed each other like a litany; -whilst the cook continued to pick up the meat and pour over the sauce, -with the rapid and rhythmical movement of a well-regulated clock. - -“But the skate's cold,” declared Favier, whose hand felt no warmth from -the plate. - -They were all hurrying along now, with their plates held out straight, -for fear of running up against one another. Ten steps further was the -bar, another wicket with a shiny zinc counter, on which were ranged the -shares of wine, small bottles, without corks, still damp from rinsing. -And each took one of these bottles in his empty hand as he passed, and -then, completely laden, made for his table with a serious air, careful -not to spill anything. - -Hutin grumbled, “This is a fine dance, with all this crockery!” - -Their table, Favier's and his, was at the end of the corridor in the -last dining-room. The rooms were all alike, old cellars twelve feet by -fifteen, which had been cemented over and fitted up as refectories; but -the damp came through the paint-work, the yellow walls were covered with -greenish spots; and, from the narrow air-holes, opening on the street, -on a level with the pavement, there fell a livid light, incessantly -traversed by the vague shadows of the passers-by. In July as in -December, one was stifled in the warm air, laden with nauseous smells, -coming from the neighbourhood of the kitchen. - -Hutin went in first. On the table, which was fixed at one end to the -wall, and covered with American cloth, there were only the glasses, -knives, and forks, marking oft the places. A pile of clean plates stood -at each end; whilst in the middle was a big loaf, a knife sticking in -it, with the handle in the air. Hutin got rid of his bottle and laid -down his plate; then, after having taken his napkin from the bottom of a -set of pigeonholes, the sole ornament on the walls, he heaved a sigh and -sat down. - -“And I'm fearfully hungry, too!” he murmured. - -“It's always like that,” replied Favier, who took his place on the left. -“Nothing to eat when one is starving.” - -The table was rapidly filling. It contained twenty-two places. At -first nothing was heard but a loud clattering of knives and forks, the -gormandising of big fellows with stomachs emptied by thirteen hours' -daily work. Formerly the employees had an hour for meals, which enabled -them to go outside to a café and take their coffee; and they would -despatch their dinner in twenty minutes, anxious to get into the street -But this stirred them up too much, they came back careless, indisposed -for business; and the managers had decided that they should not go out, -but pay an extra three halfpence for a cup of coffee, if they wanted it. -So that now they were in no hurry, but prolonged the meal, not at -all anxious to go back to work before time. A great many read some -newspaper, between mouthfuls, the journal folded and placed against -their bottle. Others, their first hunger satisfied, talked noisily, -always returning to the eternal grievance of the bad food, the money -they had earned, what they had done the previous Sunday, and what they -were going to do on the next one. - -“I say, what about your Robineau?” asked a salesman of Hutin. - -The struggle between the salesmen of the silk department and their -second-hand occupied all the counters. The question was discussed every -evening at the Café Saint-Roch until midnight. Hutin, who was busy with -his piece of beef, contented himself with replying: - -“Well! he's come back, Robineau has.” Then, suddenly getting angry, -he resumed: “But confound it! they've given me a bit of a donkey, I -believe! It's becoming disgusting, my word of honour!” - -“You needn't grumble!” said Favier. “I was flat enough to ask for skate. -It's putrid.” - -They were all speaking at once, some complaining, some joking. At a -corner of the table, against the wall, Deloche was silently eating. He -was afflicted with an enormous appetite, which he had never been able -to satisfy, and not earning enough to afford any extras, he cut himself -enormous chunks of bread, and swallowed up the least savoury platefuls, -with an air of greediness. They all laughed at him, crying: “Favier, -pass your skate to Deloche. He likes it like that. And your meat, Hutin; -Deloche wants it for his dessert.” - -The poor fellow shrugged his shoulders, and did not even reply. It -wasn't his fault if he was dying of hunger. Besides, the others might -abuse the food as much as they liked, they swallowed it up all the same. - -But a low whistling stopped their talk; Mouret and Bourdoncle were in -the corridor. For some time the complaints had become so frequent that -the principals pretended to come and judge for themselves the quality -of the food. They gave thirty sous a head per day to the chief cook, -who had to pay everything, provisions, coal, gas, and staff, and they -displayed a naïve astonishment when the food was not good. This very -morning even, each department had deputed a spokesman. Mignot and -Liénard had undertaken to speak for their comrades. And in the sudden -silence, all ears were stretched out to catch the conversation going -on in the next room, where Mouret and Bourdoncle had just entered. The -latter declared the beef excellent; and Mignot, astounded by this quiet -affirmation, was repeating, “But chew it, and see;” whilst Liénard, -attacking the skate, was gently saying, “But it stinks, sir!” Mouret -then launched into a cordial speech: he would do everything for his -employees' welfare, he was their father, and would rather eat dry bread -than see them badly fed. - -“I promise you to look into the matter,” said he in conclusion, raising -his voice so that they should hear it from one end of the passage to the -other. - -The inquiry being finished, the noise of the knives and forks commenced -once more. Hutin muttered “Yes, reckon on that, and drink water! Ah, -they're not stingy of soft words. Want some promises, there you are! And -they continue to feed you on old boot-leather, and to chuck you out like -dogs!” - -The salesman who had already questioned him repeated: “You say that -Robineau----” - -But a noise of heavy crockery-ware drowned his voice. The men changed -their plates themselves, and the piles at both ends were diminishing. -When a kitchen-help brought in some large tin dishes, Hutin cried out: -“Baked rice! this is a finisher!” - -“Good for a penn'orth of gum!” said Favier, serving himself. - -Some liked it, others thought it too sticky. There were some who -remained quite silent, plunged in the fiction of their newspaper, -not even knowing what they were eating. They were all mopping their -foreheads, the narrow cellar-like apartment was full of a ruddy steam, -whilst the shadows of the passers-by were continually passing in black -bands over the untidy cloth. - -“Pass Deloche the bread,” cried out one of the wags. - -Each one cut a piece, and then dug the knife into the loaf up to the -handle; and the bread still went round. - -“Who'll take my rice for a dessert?” asked Hutin. - -When he had concluded his bargain with a short, thin young fellow, he -attempted to sell his wine also; but no one would take it, it was known -to be detestable. - -“As I was telling you, Robineau is back,” he continued, amid the -cross-fire of laughter and conversation that was going on. “Oh! -his affair is a grave one. Just fancy, he has been debauching the -saleswomen! Yes, and he gets them cravats to make!” - -“Silence!” exclaimed Favier. “They're just judging him.” - -And he pointed to Bouthemont, who was walking in the passage between -Mouret and Bourdoncle, all three absorbed in an animated conversation, -carried on in a low tone. The diningroom of the managers and -second-hands happened to be just opposite. Therefore, when Bouthemont -saw Mouret pass he got up, having finished, and related the affair, -explaining the awkward position he was in. The other two listened, still -refusing to sacrifice Robineau, a first-class salesman, who dated from -Madame Hedouin's time. But when he came to the story of the neckties, -Bourdoncle got angry. Was this fellow mad to interfere with the -saleswomen and procure them extra work? The house paid dear enough for -the women's time; if they worked on their own account at night they -worked less during the day in the shop, that was certain; therefore it -was a robbery, they were risking their health which did not belong to -them. No, the night was made for sleep; they must all sleep, or they -would be sent to the right-about! - -“Getting rather warm!” remarked Hutin. - -Every time the three men passed the dining-room, the shopmen watched -them, commenting on the slightest gestures. They had forgotten the baked -rice, in which a cashier had just found a brace-button. - -“I heard the word 'cravat,'” said Favier. “And you saw how Bourdoncle's -face turned pale at once.” - -Mouret shared his partner's indignation. That a saleswoman should be -reduced to work at night, seemed to him an attack on the organisation -of The Ladies' Paradise. Who was the stupid that couldn't earn enough -in the business? But when Bouthemont named Denise he softened down, -and invented excuses. Ah I yes, that poor little girl; she wasn't very -sharp, and was greatly burdened, it was said. Bourdoncle interrupted him -to declare they ought to send her off immediately. They would never -do anything with such an ugly creature, he had always said so; and he -seemed to be indulging a spiteful feeling. Mouret, perplexed, affected -to laugh. Dear me! what a severe man! couldn't they forgive her for -once? They could call in the culprit and give her a scolding. In short, -Robineau was the most to blame, for he ought to have dissuaded her, he, -an old hand, knowing the ways of the house. - -“Well! there's the governor laughing now!” resumed Favier, astonished, -as the group again passed the door. - -“Ah, by Jove!” exclaimed Hutin, “if they persist in shoving Robineau on -our shoulders, we'll make it lively for them!” - -Bourdoncle looked straight at Mouret. Then he simply assumed a -disdainful expression, to intimate that he saw how it was, and thought -it idiotic. Bouthemont resumed his complaints; the salesmen threatened -to leave, and there were some very good men amongst them. But what -appeared to touch these gentlemen especially, was the rumour of -Robineau's friendly relations with Gaujean; the latter, it was said, was -urging the former to set up for himself in the neighbourhood, offering -him any amount of credit, to run in opposition to The Ladies' Paradise. -There was a pause. Ah! Robineau was thinking of showing fight, was he! -Mouret had become serious; he affected a certain scorn, avoided coming -to a decision, treating it as a matter of no importance. They would -see, they would speak to him. And he immediately commenced to joke with -Bouthemont, whose father, arrived two days before from his little shop -at Montpellier, had been nearly choked with rage and indignation on -seeing the immense hall in which his son reigned. They were still -laughing about the old man, who, recovering his Southern assurance, -had immediately commenced to run everything down, pretending that the -drapery business would soon go to the dogs. - -“Here's Robineau,” said Bouthemont. “I sent him to the stock-room to -avoid any unpleasant occurrence. Excuse me if I insist, but things are -in such an unpleasant state that something must be done.” - -Robineau, who had just come in, passed by the group with a bow, on his -way to the table. Mouret simply repeated: “All right, we'll see about -it.” - -And they separated. Hutin and Favier were still waiting for them, but -on seeing they did not return, relieved their feelings. Was the governor -coming down like this to every meal, to count the mouthfuls? A nice -thing, if they could not even eat in peace! The truth was, they had just -seen Robineau come in, and the governor's good-humour made them anxious -for the result of the struggle they were engaged in. They lowered their -voices, trying to find fresh subjects for grumbling. - -“But I'm dying of hunger!” continued Hutin, aloud. “One is hungrier than -ever on getting up from table!” And yet he had eaten two portions of -dessert, his own and the one he had exchanged for his plate of rice. All -at once he cried out: “Hang it, I'm going in for an extra! Victor, give -me another dessert!” - -The waiter was finishing serving the dessert. He then brought in the -coffee, and those who took it gave him their three sous there and then. -A few fellows had gone away, dawdling along the corridor, looking for a -dark corner in which they could smoke a cigarette. The others remained -at table before the heaps of greasy plates and dishes, rolling up the -bread-crumbs into little bullets, going over the same old stories, in -the odour of broken food, and the sweltering heat that was reddening -their ears. The walls reeked with moisture, a slow asphyxia fell from -the mouldy ceiling. Standing against the wall was Deloche, stuffed -with bread, digesting in silence, his eyes on the air-hole; his daily -recreation, after lunch, was to watch the feet of the passers-by -spinning along the street, a continual procession of living feet, big -boots, elegant boots, and ladies' tiny boots, without head or body. On -rainy days it was very dirty. - -“What! Already?” exclaimed Hutin. - -A bell rang at the end of the passage, they had to make way for the -third lunch. The waiters came in with pails of warm water and big -sponges to clean the American cloth. Gradually the rooms became empty, -the salesmen returned to their departments, lingering on the stairs. In -the kitchen, the head cook had resumed his place at the wicket, between -the pans of skate, beef, and sauce, armed with his forks and spoons, -ready to fill the plates anew with the rhythmical movement of a -well-regulated clock. As Hutin and Favier slowly withdrew, they saw -Denise coming down. - -“Monsieur Robineau is back, mademoiselle,” said the former with sneering -politeness. - -“He is still at table,” added the other. “But if it's anything important -you can go in.” - -Denise continued on her way without replying or turning round; but when -she passed the dining-room of the managers and second-hands, she could -not help just looking in, and saw that Robineau was really there. She -resolved to try and speak to him in the afternoon, and continued her -journey along the corridor to her dining-room, which was at the other -end. - -The women took their meals apart, in two special rooms. Denise entered -the first one. It was also an old cellar, transformed into a refectory; -but it had been fitted up with more comfort. On the oval table, in the -middle of the apartment, the fifteen places were further apart and the -wine was in decanters, a dish of skate and a dish of beef with pungent -sauce occupied the two ends of the table. Waiters in white aprons -attended to the young ladies, and spared them the trouble of fetching -their portions from the wicket The management had thought that more -decent. - -“You went round, then?” asked Pauline, already seated and cutting -herself some bread. - -“Yes,” replied Denise, blushing, “I was accompanying a customer.” - -But this was a falsehood. Clara nudged her neighbour. What was the -matter with the “unkempt girl?” She was quite strange in her ways. One -after the other she had received letters from her lover; then, she went -running all over the shop like a madwoman, pretending to be going to the -work-room, where she did not even make an appearance. There was something -up, that was certain. Then Clara, eating her skate without disgust, -with the indifference of a girl who had been used to nothing better than -rancid bacon, spoke of a frightful drama, the account of which filled -the newspapers. - -“You've heard about that man cutting his mistress's throat with a razor, -haven't you?” - -“Well!” said a little quiet delicate-looking girl belonging to the -under-linen department, “he found her with another fellow. Serve her -right!” - -But Pauline protested. What! just because one had ceased to love a man, -he should be allowed to cut your throat? Ah! no, never! And stopping all -at once, she turned round to the waiter, saying: “Pierre, I can't get -through this beef. Just tell them to do me an extra, an omelet, nice and -soft, if possible.” - -To pass away the time, she took out some chocolate which she began -eating with her bread, for she always had her pockets full of -sweetmeats. - -“Certainly it isn't very amusing with such a fellow,” resumed Clara. -“And some people are fearfully jealous, you know! Only the other day -there was a workman who pitched his wife into a well.” - -She kept her eyes on Denise, thinking she had guessed her trouble on -seeing her turn pale. Evidently this little prude was afraid of being -beaten by her lover, whom she no doubt deceived. It would be a lark if -he came right into the shop after her, as she seemed to fear he would. -But the conversation took another turn, one of the girls was giving a -recipe for cleaning velvet. They then went on to speak of a piece at -the Gaiety, in which some darling little children danced better than -any grown-up persons. Pauline, saddened for a moment at the sight of her -omelet, which was overdone, resumed her gaiety on finding it went down -fairly well. - -“Pass the wine,” said she to Denise. “You should go in for an omelet.” - -“Oh! the beef is enough for me,” replied the young girl, who, to avoid -expense, confined herself to the food provided by the house, no matter -how repugnant it might be. - -When the waiter brought in the baked rice, the young ladies protested. -They had refused it the previous week, and hoped it would not appear -again. Denise, inattentive, worrying about Jean after Clara's stories, -was the only one to eat it; all the others looked at her with an air -of disgust. There was a great demand for extras, they gorged themselves -with jam. This was a sort of elegance, they felt obliged to feed -themselves with their own money. - -“You know the gentlemen have complained,” said the little delicate girl -from the under-linen department, “and the management has promised----” - -They interrupted her with a burst of laughter, and commenced to talk -about the management. All the girls took coffee but Denise, who couldn't -bear it, she said. And they lingered there before their cups, the -young ladies from the under-linen department in woollen dresses, with a -middle-class simplicity, the young ladies from the dress department -in silk, their napkins tucked under their chins, in order not to stain -their dresses, like ladies who might have come down to the servants' -hall to dine with their chamber-maids. They had opened the glazed -sash of the airhole to change the stifling poisoned air; but they were -obliged to close it at once, the cab-wheels seemed to be passing over -the table. - -“Hush!” exclaimed Pauline; “here's that old beast!” - -It was Jouve, the inspector, who was rather fond of prowling about at -meal times, when the young ladies were there. He was supposed, in fact, -to look after their dining-rooms. With a smiling face he would come in -and walk round the tables; sometimes he would even indulge in a little -gossip, and inquire if they had made a good lunch. But as he annoyed -them and made them feel uncomfortable, they all hastened to get away. -Although the bell had not rung, Clara was the first to disappear; the -others followed her, so that soon only Denise and Pauline remained. -The latter, after having drunk her coffee, was finishing her chocolate -drops. All at once she got up, saying: “I'm going to send the messenger -for some oranges. Are you coming?” - -“Presently,” replied Denise, who was nibbling at a crust, determined to -wait till the last, so as to be able to see Robineau on going upstairs. - -However, when she found herself alone with Jouve she felt uneasy, so she -quitted the table; but as she was going towards the door he stopped her -saying: “Mademoiselle Baudu----” - -Standing before her, he smiled with a paternal air. His thick grey -moustache and short cropped hair gave him a respectable military -appearance; and he threw out his chest, on which was displayed the red -ribbon of his decoration. - -“What is it, Monsieur Jouve?” asked she, feeling reassured. “I caught -you again this morning talking upstairs behind the carpet department You -know it is not allowed, and if I reported you---- She must be very fond -of you, your friend Pauline.” His moustache quivered, a flame lighted up -his enormous nose. “What makes you so fond of each other, eh?” Denise, -without understanding, was again becoming seized with an uneasy feeling. -He was getting too close, and was speaking right in her face. - -“It's true we were talking, Monsieur Jouve,” she stammered, “but there's -no harm in talking a bit. You are very good to me, and I'm very much -obliged to you.” - -“I ought not to be good,” said he. “Justice, and nothing more, is my -motto. But when it's a pretty girl----” - -And he came closer still, and she felt really afraid. Pauline's words -came back to her memory; she now remembered the stories going about, -stories of girls terrified by old Jouve into buying his good-will. In -the shop, as a rule, he confined himself to little familiarities, such -as pinching the cheeks of the complaisant young ladies with his fat -fingers, taking their hands in his and keeping them there as if he had -forgotten them. This was very paternal, and he only gave way to his real -nature outdoors, when they consented to accept a little refreshment at -his place in the Rue des Moineaux. - -“Leave me alone,” murmured the young girl, drawing back. “Come,” said -he, “you are not going to play the savage with me, who always treats -you well. Be amiable, come and take a cup of tea and a slice of -bread-and-butter with me this evening. You are very welcome.” - -She was struggling now. “No! no!” - -The dining room was empty, the waiter had not come back. Jouve, -listening for the sound of any footsteps, cast a rapid glance around -him; and, very excited, losing control over himself, going beyond his -fatherly familiarities, he tried to kiss her on the neck. - -“What a spiteful, stupid little girl. When one has a head of hair like -yours one should not be so stupid. Come round this evening, just for -fun.” - -But she was very excited, shocked, and terrified at the approach of this -burning face, of which she could feel the breath. Suddenly she pushed -him, so roughly that he staggered and nearly fell on to the table. -Fortunately, a chair saved him; but in the shock, some wine left in a -glass spurted on to his white necktie, and soaked his decoration. And -he stood there, without wiping himself, choked with anger at such -brutality. What! when he was expecting nothing, when he was not exerting -his strength, and was yielding simply to his kindness of heart! - -[Illustration: 0297] - -“Ah, you will be sorry for this, on my word of honour!” Denise ran away. -Just at that moment the bell rang; but troubled, still shuddering, she -forgot Robineau, and went straight to her counter, not daring to go -down again. As the sun fell on the frontage of the Place Gaillon of -an afternoon, they were all stifling in the first floor rooms, -notwithstanding the grey linen blinds. A few customers came, put the -young ladies into a very uncomfortable, warm state, and went away -without buying anything. Every one was yawning even under Madame -Aurélie's big sleepy eyes. Towards three o'clock, Denise, seeing the -first-hand falling off to sleep, quietly slipped off, and resumed her -journey across the shop, with a busy air. To put the curious ones, who -might be watching her, off the scent, she did not go straight to the -silk department; pretending to want something in the lace department, -she went up to Deloche, and asked him a question; then, on the -ground-floor, she passed through the printed cottons department, and -was just going into the cravat one, when she stopped short, startled and -surprised. Jean was before her. - -“What! it's you?” she murmured, quite pale. - -He had on his working blouse, and was bare-headed, with his hair in -disorder, the curls falling over his girlish face. Standing before a -show-case of narrow black neckties, he appeared to be thinking deeply. - -“What are you doing here?” resumed Denise. - -“What do you think?” replied he. “I was waiting for you. You won't let -me come. So I came in, but haven't said anything to anybody. You may -feel quite safe. Pretend not to know me, if you like.” - -Some salesmen were already looking at them with astonishment Jean -lowered his voice. “She wanted to come with me you know. Yes, she is -close by, opposite the fountain. Give me the fifteen francs quick, or we -are done for as sure as the sun is shining on us!” - -Denise lost her head. The lookers-on were grinning, listening to this -adventure. And as there was a staircase behind the cravat department -leading to the lower floor, she pushed her brother along, and quickly -led him below. Downstairs he continued his story, embarrassed, inventing -his facts, fearing not to be believed. - -“The money is not for her. She is too respectable for that. And as for -her husband, he does not care a straw for fifteen francs. Not for a -million would he allow his wife. A glue manufacturer, I tell you. People -very well off indeed. No, it's for a low fellow, one of her friends, -who has seen us together; and if I don't give him this money this -evening----” - -“Be quiet,” murmured Denise. “Presently, do get along.” They were now -in the parcels office. The dead season had thrown the vast floor into -a sort of torpor, in the pale light from the air-holes. It was cold as -well, a silence fell from the ceiling. However, a porter was collecting -from one of the compartments the few packets for the neighbourhood of -the Madeleine; and, on the large sorting-table, was seated Campion, the -chief clerk, his legs dangling, and his eyes wandering about. - -Jean began again: “The husband, who has a big knife----” - -“Get along!” repeated Denise, still pushing him forward. They followed -one of the narrow corridors, where the gas was kept continually burning. -To the right and the left in the dark vaults the reserve goods threw out -their shadows behind the gratings. At last she stopped opposite one of -these. Nobody was likely to pass that way; but it was not allowed, and -she shuddered. - -“If this rascal says anything,” resumed Jean, “the husband, who has a -big knife----” - -“Where do you expect I can find fifteen francs?” exclaimed Denise in -despair. “Can't you be more careful? You're always getting into some -stupid scrape!” - -He struck his chest. Amidst all his romantic inventions, he had almost -forgotten the exact truth. He dramatised his money wants, but there -was always some immediate necessity behind this display. “By all that's -sacred, it's really true this time. I was holding her like this, and she -was kissing me----” - -She stopped him again, and lost her temper, feeling on thorns, -completely at a loss. “I don't want to know. Keep your wicked conduct -to yourself. It's too bad, you ought to know better! You're always -tormenting me. I'm killing myself to keep you in money. Yes, I have to -stay up all night at work. Not only that, you are taking the bread out -of your little brother's mouth.” - -Jean stood there with his mouth wide open, and all the colour left his -face. What! it was not right? And he could not understand, he had always -treated his sister like a comrade, he thought it quite a natural thing -to open his heart to her. But what choked him above all, was to learn -she stopped up all night. The idea that he was killing her, and taking -Pépé's share as well, affected him so much that he began to cry. - -“You're right; I'm a scamp,” exclaimed he. “But it isn't wicked, really, -far from it, and that's why one always does it! This woman, Denise, is -twenty, and thought it such fun, because I'm only seventeen. Really now! -I am quite furious with myself! I could slap my face!” He had taken her -hands, and was kissing them and inundating them with tears. “Give me -the fifteen francs, and this shall be the last time. I swear to you. -Or rather--no!--don't give me anything. I prefer to die. If the husband -murders me it will be a good riddance for you.” And as she was crying as -well, he was stricken with remorse. “I say that, but of course I'm not -sure. Perhaps he doesn't want to kill any one. We'll manage. I promise -you that, darling. Good-bye, I'm off.” - -But a sound of footsteps at the end of the corridor frightened them. She -quickly drew him close to the grating, in a dark corner. For an instant -they heard nothing but the hissing of a gas-burner near them. Then the -footsteps drew nearer; and, on stretching out her neck, she recognised -Jouve, the inspector, who had just entered the corridor, with his stiff -military walk. Was he there by chance, or had some one at the door -warned him of Jean's presence? She was seized with such a fright that -she knew not what to do; and she pushed Jean out of the dark spot where -they were concealed, and drove him before her, stammering out: “Be off! -Be off!” - -Both galloped along, hearing Jouve behind them, for he also had began to -run. They crossed the parcels office again, and arrived at the foot of -the stairs leading out into the Rue de la Michodière. - -“Be off!” repeated Denise, “be off! If I can, I'll send you the fifteen -francs all the same.” - -Jean, bewildered, scampered away. The inspector, who came up panting, -out of breath, could only distinguish a corner of his white blouse, and -his locks of fair hair flying in the wind. He stood a moment to get his -breath, and resume his correct appearance. He had on a brand-new white -necktie, the large bow of which shone like a snow-flake. - -“Well! this is nice behaviour, mademoiselle!” said he, his lips -trembling. “Yes, it's nice, very nice! If you think I'm going to stand -this sort of thing in the basement, you're mistaken.” - -And he pursued her with this whilst she was returning to the shop, -overcome with emotion, unable to find a word of defence. She was sorry -now she had run away. Why hadn't she explained the matter, and brought -her brother forward? They would now go and imagine all sorts of -villanies, and say what she might, they would not believe her. Once more -she forgot Robineau, and went straight to her counter. Jouve immediately -went to the manager's office to report the matter. But the messenger -told him Monsieur Mouret was with Monsieur Bourdoncle and Monsieur -Robineau; they had been talking together for the last quarter of an -hour. In fact, the door was halfopen, and he could hear Mouret gaily -asking Robineau if he had had a pleasant holiday; there was not the -least question of a dismissal--on the contrary, the conversation fell on -certain things to be done in the department. - -“Do you want anything, Monsieur Jouve?” exclaimed Mouret “Come in.” - -But a sudden instinct warned the inspector. As Bourdoncle had come out, -he preferred to relate the affair to him. They slowly passed through the -shawl department, walking side by side, the one leaning over and talking -in a low tone, the other listening, not a sign on his severe face -betraying his impressions. “All right,” said the latter at last. - -And as they had arrived close to the dress department, he went in. Just -at that moment Madame Aurélie was scolding Denise. Where had she come -from, again? This time she couldn't say she had been to the work-room. -Really, these continual absences could not be tolerated any longer. - -“Madame Aurélie!” cried Bourdoncle. - -He had decided on a bold stroke, not wishing to consult Mouret, for fear -of some weakness. The first-hand came up, and the story was once more -related in a low voice. They were all waiting in the expectation of some -catastrophe. At last, Madame Aurélie turned round with a solemn air. - -“Mademoiselle Baudu!” And her puffy emperor's mask assumed the -immobility of the all-powerful: “Go and be paid!” The terrible phrase -sounded very loud in the empty department. Denise stood there pale as -a ghost, without saying a word. At last she was able to ask in broken -sentences: - -“Me! me! What for? What have I done?” - -Bourdoncle replied, harshly, that she knew very well, that she had -better not provoke any explanation; and he spoke of the cravats, and -said that it would be a fine thing if all the young ladies received men -down in the basement. - -“But it was my brother!” cried she with the grievous anger of an -outraged virgin. - -Marguerite and Clara commenced to laugh. Madame Frédéric, usually so -discreet, shook her head with an incredulous air. Always her brother! -Really it was very stupid! Denise looked round at all of them: -Bourdoncle, who had taken a dislike to her the first day; Jouve, who had -stopped to serve as a witness, and from whom she expected no justice; -then these girls whom she had not been able to soften by nine months of -smiling courage, who were happy, in fact, to turn her out of doors. What -was the good of struggling? what was the use of trying to impose herself -on them when no one liked her? And she went away without a word, -not even casting a last look towards this room where she had so long -struggled. But as soon as she was alone, before the hall staircase, a -deeper sense of suffering filled her grieved heart. No one liked her, -and the sudden thought of Mouret had just deprived her of all idea of -resignation. No! no! she could not accept such a dismissal. Perhaps he -would believe this villanous story, this rendezvous with a man down in -the cellars. At the thought, a feeling of shame tortured her, an anguish -with which she had never before been afflicted. She wanted to go and see -him, to explain the matter to him, simply to let him know the truth; -for she was quite ready to go away as soon as he knew this. And her -old fear, the shiver which chilled her when in his presence, suddenly -developed into an ardent desire to see him, not to leave the house -without telling him she had never belonged to another. - -It was nearly five o'clock, and the shop was waking up into life again -in the cool evening air. She quickly started off for Mouret's office. -But when she arrived at the door, a hopeless melancholy feeling again -took possession of her. Her tongue refused its office, the intolerable -burden of existence again fell on her shoulders. He would not believe -her, he would laugh like the others, she thought; and this idea made her -almost faint away. All was over, she would be better alone, out of the -way, dead! And, without informing Pauline or Deloche, she went at once -and took her money. - -“You have, mademoiselle,” said the clerk, “twenty-two days; that makes -eighteen francs and fourteen sous; to which must be added seven francs -for commission. That's right, isn't it?” - -“Yes, sir. Thanks.” - -And Denise was going away with her money, when she at last met Robineau. -He had already heard of her dismissal, and promised to find the -necktie-dealer. In a lower tone he tried to console her, but lost his -temper: what an existence, to be at the continual mercy of a whim! to be -thrown out at an hour's notice, without even being able to claim a full -month's salary. Denise went up to inform Madame Cabin, saying that she -would try and send for her box during the evening. It was just striking -five when she found herself on the pavement of the Place Gaillon, -bewildered, in the midst of the crowd of people and cabs. - -The same evening when Robineau got home he received a letter from the -management informing him, in a few lines, that for certain reasons -relating to the internal arrangements they were obliged to deprive -themselves of his services. He had been in the house seven years, and it -was only that afternoon that he was talking to the principals; this -was a heavy blow for him. Hutin and Favier were crowing in the silk -department, as loudly as Clara and Marguerite in the dress one. A jolly -good riddance! Such clean sweeps make room for the others! Deloche and -Pauline were the only ones to regret Denise's departure, exchanging, in -the rush of business, bitter words of regret at losing her, so kind, so -well behaved. - -“Ah,” said the young man, “if ever she succeeds anywhere else, I should -like to see her come back here, and trample on the others; a lot of -good-for-nothing creatures!” - -It was Bourdoncle who in this affair had to bear the brunt of Mouret's -anger. When the latter heard of Denise's dismissal, he was exceedingly -annoyed. As a rule he never interfered with the staff; but this time he -affected to see an encroachment on his power, an attempt to over-ride -his authority. Was he no longer master in the place, that they dared -to give orders? Everything must pass through his hands, absolutely -everything; and he would immediately crush any one who should resist -Then, after making personal inquiries, all the while in a nervous -torment which he could not conceal, he lost his temper again. This -poor girl was not lying; it was really her brother. Campion had fully -recognised him. Why was she sent away, then? He even spoke of taking her -back. - -However, Bourdoncle, strong in his passive resistance, bent before the -storm. He watched Mouret, and one day when he saw him a little calmer, -ventured to say in a meaning voice: “It's better for everybody that -she's gone.” - -Mouret stood there looking very awkward, the blood rushing to his face. -“Well!” replied he, laughing, “perhaps you're right. Let's go and take -a turn down stairs. Things are looking better, we took nearly a hundred -thousand francs yesterday.” - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -For a moment Denise stood bewildered on the pavement, in the sun which -still shone fiercely at five o'clock. The July heat warmed the -gutters, Paris was blazing with the chalky whiteness peculiar to it in -summer-time, and which produced quite a blinding glare. The catastrophe -had happened so suddenly, they had turned her out so roughly, that she -stood there, turning her money over in her pocket in a mechanical way, -asking herself where she was to go, and what she was to do. - -A long line of cabs prevented her quitting the pavement near The Ladies' -Paradise. When she at last risked herself amongst the wheels she -crossed over the Place Gaillon, as if she intended to go into the Rue -Louis-le-Grand; then she altered her mind, and walked towards the Rue -Saint-Roch. But still she had no plan, for she stopped at the corner of -the Rue Neuve-des-Petits-Champs, and finally followed it, after looking -around her with an undecided air. Arrived at the Passage Choiseul, she -passed through, and found herself in the Rue Monsigny, without knowing -how, and ultimately came into the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin again. Her -head was filled with a fearful buzzing sensation, she thought of her box -on seeing a commissionaire; but where was she to have it taken to, and -why all this trouble, when an hour ago she had a bed to go to? - -Then her eyes fixed on the houses, she began to examine the windows. -There were any number of bills, “Apartments to Let.” She saw them -confusedly, repeatedly seized by the inward emotion which was agitating -her whole being. Was it possible? Left alone so suddenly, lost in this -immense city in which she was a stranger, without support, without -resources. She must eat and sleep, however. The streets succeeded one -another, the Rue des Moulins, the Rue Sainte-Anne. She wandered about -the neighbourhood, frequently retracing her steps, always brought back -to the only spot she knew really well. Suddenly she was astonished, -she was again standing before The Ladies' Paradise; and to escape this -obsession she plunged into the Rue de la Michodière. Fortunately Baudu -was not at his door. The Old Elbeuf appeared to be dead, behind its -murky windows. She would never have dared to show herself at her -uncle's, for he affected not to recognise her any more, and she did not -wish to become a burden to him, in the misfortune he had predicted for -her. But, on the other side of the street, a yellow bill attracted -her attention. “Furnished room to let.” It was the first that did not -frighten her, so poor did the house appear. She soon recognised it, -with its two low storeys, and rusty-coloured front, crushed between The -Ladies' Paradise and the old Hôtel Duvillard. On the threshold of the -umbrella shop, old Bourras, hairy and bearded like a prophet, and -with his glasses on his nose, stood studying the ivory handle of a -walking-stick. Hiring the whole house, he under-let the two upper floors -furnished, to lighten the rent. - -“You have a room, sir?” asked Denise, obeying an instinctive impulse. - -He raised his great bushy eyes, surprised to see her, for he knew all -the young persons at The Ladies' Paradise. And, after observing her -clean dress and respectable appearance, he replied: “It won't suit you.” - -“How much is it, then?” replied Denise. - -“Fifteen francs a month.” - -She asked to see it. On arriving in the narrow shop, and seeing that -he was still eyeing her with an astonished air, she told him of her -departure from the shop and of her wish not to trouble her uncle. The -old man then went and fetched a key hanging on a board in the back-shop, -a small dark room, where he did his cooking and had his bed; beyond -that, behind a dirty window, could be seen a back-yard about six feet -square. - -“I'll walk in front to prevent you falling,” said Bourras, entering the -damp corridor which ran along the shop. - -He stumbled against the lower stair, and commenced the ascent, -reiterating his warnings to be careful. Look out! the rail was close -against the wall, there was a hole at the corner, sometimes the lodgers -left their dust-boxes there. Denise, in complete obscurity, could -distinguish nothing, only feeling the chilliness of the old damp -plaster. On the first floor, however, a small window looking into the -yard enabled her to see vaguely, as at the bottom of a piece of sleeping -water, the rotten staircase, the walls black with dirt, the cracked and -discoloured doors. - -“If only only these rooms were vacant,” resumed - -Bourras. “You would be very comfortable there. But they are always -occupied by ladies.” - -On the second floor the light increased, showing up with a raw paleness -the distress of the house. A journeyman-baker occupied the first room, -and it was the other, the further one, that was vacant. When Bourras -had opened the door he was obliged to stay on the landing in order that -Denise might enter with ease. The bed placed in the corner nearest the -door, left just room enough for one person to pass. At the other end -there was a small walnut-wood chest of drawers, a deal table stained -black, and two chairs. The lodgers who did any cooking were obliged to -kneel before the fire-place, where there was an earthenware stove. - -“You know,” said the old man, “it is not luxurious, but the view from -the window is gay. You can see the people passing in the street.” And, -as Denise was looking with surprise at the ceiling just above the bed, -where a chance lady-lodger had written her name--Ernestine--by drawing -the flame of the candle over it, he added with a good-natured smile; “If -I did a lot of repairs, I should never make both ends meet. There you -are; it's all I have to offer.” - -“I shall be very well here,” declared the young girl. - -She paid a month in advance, asked for the linen--a pair of sheets and -two towels, and made her bed without delay, happy, relieved to know -where she was going to sleep that night. An hour after she had sent a -commissionaire to fetch her box, and was quite at home. - -During the first two months she had a terribly hard time of it. Being -unable to pay for Pépé's board, she had taken him away, and slept him on -an old sofa lent by Bourras. She could not do with less than thirty -sous a day, including the rent, even by consenting to live on dry bread -herself, in order to procure a bit of meat for the little one. -During the first fortnight she got on pretty well, having begun her -housekeeping with about ten francs; besides she had been fortunate -enough to find the cravat-dealer, who paid her her eighteen francs six -sous. But after that she became completely destitute. It was in vain she -applied to the various shops, at La Place Clichy, the Bon Marché, the -Louvre: the dead season had stopped business everywhere, they told -her to apply again in the autumn, more than five thousand employees, -dismissed like her, were wandering about Paris in want of places. She -then tried to obtain a little work elsewhere; but in her ignorance of -Paris she did not know where to apply, often accepting most ungrateful -tasks, and sometimes even not getting her money. Certain evenings she -gave Pépé his dinner alone, a plate of soup, telling him she had dined -out; and she would go to bed, her head in a whirl, nourished by the -fever which was burning her hands. When Jean dropped suddenly into -the midst of this poverty, he called himself a scoundrel with such -a despairing violence that she was obliged to tell some falsehood to -reassure him; and often found means of slipping a two-franc piece into -his hand, to prove that she still had money. She never wept before the -children. On Sundays, when she would cook a piece of veal in the stove, -on her knees before the fire, the narrow room re-echoed with the gaiety -of children, careless about existence. Then, when Jean had returned -to his master's and Pépé was sleeping, she spent a frightful night, in -anguish about the coming day. - -Other fears kept her awake. The two ladies on the first floor received -visitors up to a late hour; and sometimes a visitor mistook the floor -and came banging at Denise's door. Bourras having quietly told her not -to answer, she buried her face under her pillow to escape hearing their -oaths. Then, her neighbour, the baker, had shown a disposition to annoy -her: he never came home till the morning, and would lay in wait for her, -as she went to fetch her water; he even made holes in the wall, to watch -her washing herself, so that she was obliged to hang her clothes against -the wall. But she suffered still more from the annoyances of the street, -the continual persecution of the passers-by. She could not go downstairs -to buy a candle, in these streets swarming with the debauchees of the -old quarters, without feeling a warm breath behind her, and hearing -crude, insulting remarks; and the men pursued her to the very end of the -dark passage, encouraged by the sordid appearance of the house. Why had -she no lover? It astonished people, and seemed ridiculous. She would -certainly have to yield one day. She herself could not have explained -why she resisted, menaced as she was by hunger, and perturbed by the -desires with which the air around her was warm. - -One evening Denise had not even any bread for Pépé's soup, when a -gentleman, wearing a decoration, commenced to follow her. On arriving -opposite the passage he became brutal, and it was with a disgusted, -shocked feeling that she banged the door in his face. Then, upstairs, -she sat down, her hands trembling. The little one was sleeping. What -should she say if he woke up and asked for bread? And yet she had only -to consent and her misery would be over, she could have money, dresses, -and a fine room. It was very simple, every one came to that, it was -said; for a woman alone in Paris could not live by her labour. But her -whole being rose up in protestation, without indignation against the -others, simply averse to the disgrace of the thing. She considered life -a matter of logic, good conduct, and courage. - -Denise frequently questioned herself in this way. An old love story -floated in her memory, the sailor's betrothed whom her love guarded -from all perils. At Valognes she had often hummed over this sentimental -ballad, gazing on the deserted street. Had she also a tender affection -in her heart that she was so brave? She still thought of Hutin, full of -uneasiness. Morning and evening she saw him pass under her window. Now -that he was second-hand he walked by himself, amid the respect of the -simple salesmen. He never raised his head, she thought she suffered from -his vanity, and watched him pass without any fear of being discovered. -And as soon as she saw Mouret, who also passed every day, she began to -tremble, and, quickly concealed herself, her bosom heaving. He had no -need to know where she was lodging. Then she felt ashamed of the house, -and suffered at the idea of what he thought of her, although perhaps -they would never meet again. - -Denise still lived amidst the agitation caused by The Ladies' Paradise. -A simple wall separated her room from her old department; and, from -early morning, she went over her day's work, feeling the arrival of the -crowd, the increased bustle of business. The slightest noise shook the -old house hanging on the flank of the colossus; she felt the gigantic -pulse beating. Besides, she could not avoid certain meetings. Twice -she had found herself face to face with Pauline, who had offered her -services, grieved to see her so unfortunate; and she had even been -obliged to tell a falsehood to avoid receiving her friend or paying -her a visit, one Sunday, at Baugé's. But it was more difficult still to -defend herself against Deloche's desperate affection; he watched her, -aware of all her troubles, waited for her in the doorways. One day he -wanted to lend her thirty francs, a brother's savings, he said, with -a blush. And these meetings made her regret the shop, continually -occupying her with the life they led inside, as if she had not quitted -it. - -No one ever called upon Denise. One afternoon she was surprised by a -knock. It was Colomban. She received him standing. He, looking very -awkward, stammered at first, asked how she was getting on, and spoke of -The Old Elbeuf. - -Perhaps it was Uncle Baudu who had sent him, regretting his rigour; -for he continued to pass his niece without taking any notice of her, -although quite aware of her miserable position. But when she plainly -questioned her visitor, he appeared more embarrassed than ever. No, -no, it was not the governor who had sent him; and he finished by naming -Clara--he simply wanted to talk about Clara. Little by little he became -bolder, and asked Denise's advice, supposing that she could be useful -to him with her old friend. It was in vain that she tried to dishearten -him, by reproaching him with the pain he was causing Geneviève, all for -this heartless girl. He came up another day, and got into the habit of -coming to see her. This sufficed for his timid passion; he continually -commenced the same conversation, unable to resist, trembling with joy to -be with a girl who had approached Clara. And this caused Denise to live -more than ever at The Ladies' Paradise. - -It was towards the end of September that the young girl experienced the -blackest misery. Pépé had fallen ill, having caught a severe cold. He -ought to have been nourished with good broth, and she had not even a -piece of bread. One evening, completely conquered, she was sobbing, in -one of those sombre straits which drive women on to the streets, or into -the Seine, when old Bourras gently knocked at the door. He brought a -loaf, and a milk-can full of broth. - -“There! there's something for the youngster,” said he in his abrupt way. -“Don't cry like that; it annoys my lodgers.” And as she thanked him in a -fresh outburst of tears, he resumed: “Do keep quiet! To-morrow come and -see me. I've some work for you.” - -Bourras, since the terrible blow dealt him by The Ladies' Paradise -by their opening an umbrella department, had ceased to employ any -workwomen. He did everything himself to save expenses--the cleaning, -mending, and sewing. His trade was also diminishing, so that he was -sometimes without work. And he was obliged to invent something to do the -next day, when he installed Denise in a corner of his shop. He felt that -he could not let any one die of hunger in his house. - -“You'll have two francs a day,” said he. “When you find something -better, you can leave me.” - -She was afraid of him, and did the work so quickly that he hardly knew -what else to give her to do. He had given her some silk to stitch, some -lace to repair. During the first few days she did not dare raise her -head, uncomfortable to know he was close to her, with his lion-like -mane, hooked nose, and piercing eyes, under his thick bushy eyebrows. -His voice was harsh, his gestures extravagant, and the mothers of the -neighbourhood often frightened their youngsters by threatening to send -for him, as they would for a policeman. However, the boys never passed -his door without calling out some insulting words, which he did not even -seem to hear. All his maniacal anger was directed against the scoundrels -who dishonoured his trade by selling cheap trashy articles, which dogs -would not consent to use. - -Denise trembled whenever he burst out thus: “Art is done for, I tell -you! There's not a single respectable handle made now. They make sticks, -but as for handles, it's all up! Bring me a proper handle, and I'll give -you twenty francs!” - -He had a real artist's pride; not a workman in Paris was capable of -turning out a handle like his, light and strong. He carved the knobs -especially with charming ingenuity, continually inventing fresh designs, -flowers, fruit, animals, and heads, subjects conceived and executed in -a free and life-like style. A little pocket-knife sufficed, and he spent -whole days, spectacles on nose, chipping bits of boxwood and ebony. - -“A pack of ignorant beggars,” said he, “who are satisfied with sticking a -certain quantity of silk on so much whalebone! They buy their handles by -the gross, handles readymade. And they sell just what they like! I tell -you, art is done for!” - -Denise began to take courage. He had insisted on having Pépé down in the -shop to play, for he was wonderfully fond of children. When the little -one was crawling about on all-fours, neither of them had room to move, -she in her corner doing the mending, he near the window, carving with -his little pocket-knife. Every day now brought on the same work and -the same conversation. Whilst working, he continually pitched into The -Ladies' Paradise; never tired of explaining how affairs stood. He had -occupied his house since 1845, and had a thirty years' lease, at a rent -of eighteen hundred francs a year; and, as he made a thousand francs out -of his four furnished rooms, he only paid eight hundred for the shop. -It was a mere trifle, he had no expenses, and could thus hold out for a -long time still. To hear him, there was no doubt about his triumph; -he would certainly swallow up the monster. Suddenly he would interrupt -himself. - -“Have they got any dog's heads like that?” - -And he would blink his eyes behind his glasses, to judge the dog's head -he was carving, with its lip turned up and fangs out, in a life-like -growl. Pépé, delighted with the dog, would get up, placing his two -little arms on the old man's knee. - -“As long as I make both ends meet I don't care a hang about the rest,” - the latter would resume, delicately shaping the dog's tongue with the -point of his knife. “The scoundrels have taken away my profits; but if -I'm making nothing I'm not losing anything yet, or at least but very -little. And, you see, I'm ready to sacrifice everything rather than -yield.” - -He would brandish his knife, and his white hair would blow about in a -storm of anger. - -“But,” Denise would mildly observe, without raising her eyes from her -needle, “if they made you a reasonable offer, it would be wiser to -accept.” - -Then his ferocious obstinacy would burst forth. “Never! If my head were -under the knife I would say no, by heavens! I've another ten years' -lease, and they shall not have the house before then, even if I should -have to die of hunger within the four bare walls. Twice already have -they tried to get over me. They offered me twelve thousand francs for -my good-will, and eighteen thousand francs for the last ten years of my -lease; in all thirty thousand. Not for fifty thousand even! I have them -in my power, and intend to see them licking the dust before me!” - -“Thirty thousand francs! it's a good sum,” Denise would resume. “You -could go and establish yourself elsewhere. And suppose they were to buy -the house?” - -Bourras, putting the finishing touches to his dog's tongue, would -appear absorbed for a moment, an infantine laugh pervading his venerable -prophet's face. Then he would, continue: “The house, no fear! They spoke -of buying it last year, and offered eighty thousand francs, twice as -much as it's worth. But the landlord, a retired fruiterer, as big a -scoundrel as they, wanted to make them shell out more. But not only -that, they are suspicious about me; they know I'm not so likely to give -way. No! no! here I am, and here I intend to stay. The emperor with all -his cannon could not turn me out.” Denise never dared say any more, she -would go on with her work, whilst the old man continued to break out in -short sentences, between two cuts with his knife, muttering something to -the effect that the game had hardly commenced, later on they would see -wonderful things, he had certain plans which would sweep away their -umbrella counter; and, in his obstinacy, there appeared a personal -revolt of the small manufacturer against the threatening invasion of -the great shops. Pépé, however, would at last climb on his knees, and -impatiently stretch out his hand towards the dog's head. - -“Give it me, sir.” - -“Presently, my child,” the old man would reply in a voice that suddenly -became tender. “He hasn't any eyes; we must make his eyes now.” And -whilst carving the eye he would continue talking to Denise. “Do you hear -them? Isn't there a roar next door? That's what exasperates me more than -anything, my word of honour! to have them always on my back with their -infernal locomotive-like noise.” - -It made his little table tremble, he asserted. The whole shop was -shaken, and he would spend the entire afternoon without a customer, in -the trepidation of the crowd which overflowed The Ladies' Paradise. It -was from morning to night a subject for eternal grumbling. Another good -day's work, they were knocking against the wall, the silk department -must have cleared ten thousand francs; or else he made merry over a -showery day which had killed the receipts. And the slightest rumours, -the most unimportant noises, furnished him with subjects of endless -comment. - -“Ah! some one has slipped down! Ah, if they could only all fall and -break their backs! That, my dear, is a dispute between some ladies. So -much the better! So much the better! Do you hear the parcels falling on -to the lower floor? It's disgusting!” - -It did not do for Denise to discuss his explanations, for he retorted -bitterly by reminding her of the shameful way they had dismissed her. -She was obliged to relate for the hundredth time her life in the dress -department, the hardships she had endured at first, the small unhealthy -bedrooms, the bad food, and the continual struggle between the salesmen; -and they were thus talking about the shop from morning to night, -absorbing it hourly in the very air they breathed. - -“Give it me, sir,” Pépé would repeat, with eager outstretched hands. - -The dog's head finished, Bourras would hold it at a distance, then -examine it closely with childish glee. “Take care, it will bite you! -There, go and play, and don't break it, if you can help it.” Then -resuming his fixed idea, he would shake his fist at the wall. “You may -do all you can to knock the house down. You sha'n't have it, even if you -invade the whole neighbourhood.” - -Denise had now her daily bread assured her, and she was extremely -grateful to the old umbrella-dealer, whose good heart she felt beneath -his strange violent ways. She had a strong desire, however, to find some -work elsewhere, for she often saw him inventing some trifle for her -to do; she fully understood that he did not require a workwoman in the -present slack state of his business, and that he was employing her out -of pure charity. Six months had passed thus, and the dull winter season -had again returned. She was despairing of finding a situation before -March, when, one evening in January, Deloche, who was watching for -her in a doorway, gave her a bit of advice. Why did she not go and see -Robineau; perhaps he might want some one? - -In September, Robineau had decided to buy Vinçard's silk business, -trembling all the time lest he should compromise his wife's sixty -thousand francs. He had paid forty thousand for the good-will and stock, -and was starting with the remaining twenty thousand. It was not much, -but he had Gaujean behind him to back him up with any amount of credit. -Since his disagreement with The Ladies' Paradise, the latter had been -longing to stir up a system of competition against the colossus; and he -thought victory certain, by creating special shops in the neighbourhood, -where the public could find a large and varied choice of articles. The -rich Lyons manufacturers, such as Dumonteil, were the only ones who -could accept the big shops' terms, satisfied to keep their looms going -with them, looking for their profits by selling to less important -houses. But Gaujean was far from having the solidity and staying power -possessed by Dumonteil. For a long time a simple commission agent, it -was only during the last five or six years that he had had looms of his -own, and he still had a lot of work done by other makers, furnishing -them with the raw material and paying them by the yard. It was precisely -this system which, increasing his manufacturing expenses, had prevented -him competing with Dumonteil for the supply of the Paris Paradise. This -had filled him with rancour; he saw in Robineau the instrument of a -decisive battle to be declared against these drapery bazaars which he -accused of ruining the French manufacturers. - -When Denise called she found Madame Robineau alone. Daughter of an -overseer in the Department of Highways, entirely ignorant of business -matters, she still retained the charming awkwardness of a girl educated -in a Blois convent She was dark, very pretty, with a gentle, cheerful -manner, which gave her a great charm. She adored her husband, living -solely by his love. As Denise was about to leave her name Robineau came -in, and engaged her at once, one of his two saleswomen having left the -previous day to go to The Ladies' Paradise. - -“They don't leave us a single good hand,” said he. “However, with you -I shall feel quite easy, for you are like me, you can't be very fond of -them. Come to-morrow.” - -In the evening Denise hardly knew how to announce her departure to -Bourras. In fact, he called her an ungrateful girl, and lost his temper. -Then when, with tears in her eyes, she tried to defend herself by -intimating that she could see through his charitable conduct, he -softened down, said that he had plenty of work, that she was leaving him -just as he was about to bring out an umbrella of his invention. - -“And Pépé?” asked he. - -This was Denise's great trouble; she dared not take him back to Madame -Gras, and could not leave him alone in the bedroom, shut up from morning -to night. - -“Very good, Til keep him,” said the old man; “he'll be all right in my -shop. We'll do the cooking together.” Then, as she refused, fearing it -might inconvenience him, he thundered out: “Great heavens! have you no -confidence in me? I sha'n't eat your child!” - -Denise was much happier at Robineau's. He only paid her sixty francs a -month, with her food, without giving her any commission on the sales, -just the same as in the old-fashioned houses. But she was treated with -great kindness, especially by Madame Robineau, always smiling at her -counter. He, nervous, worried, was sometimes rather abrupt. At the -expiration of the first month, Denise was quite one of the family, like -the other saleswoman, a silent, consumptive, little body. The Robineaus -were not at all particular before them, talking of the business at table -in the back shop, which looked on to a large yard. And it was there -they decided one evening on starting the campaign against The Ladies' -Paradise. Gaujean had come to dinner. After the usual roast leg of -mutton, he had broached the subject in his Lyons voice, thickened by the -Rhône fogs. - -“It's getting unbearable,” said he. “They go to Dumonteil, purchase -the sole right in a design, and take three hundred pieces straight off, -insisting on a reduction of ten sous a yard; and, as they pay ready -money, they enjoy moreover the profit of eighteen per cent discount. -Very often Dumonteil barely makes four sous a yard out of it He works to -keep his looms going, for a loom that stands still is a dead loss. Under -these circumstances how can you expect that we, with our limited plant, -and especially with our makers, can keep up the struggle?” - -Robineau, pensive, forgot his dinner. “Three hundred pieces!” he -murmured. “I tremble when I take a dozen, and at ninety days. They can -mark up a franc or two francs cheaper than us. I have calculated -there is a reduction of at least fifteen per cent, on their catalogued -articles, when compared with our prices. That's what kills the small -houses.” - -He was in a period of discouragement. His wife, full of anxiety, was -looking at him with a tender air. She understood very little about the -business, all these figures confused her; she could not understand why -people took such trouble, when it was so easy to be gay and love one -another. However, it sufficed that her husband wished to conquer, and -she became as impassioned as he himself, and would have stood to her -counter till death. - -“But why don't all the manufacturers come to an understanding together?” - resumed Robineau, violently. “They could then lay down the law, instead -of submitting to it.” - -Gaujean, who had asked for another slice of mutton, was slowly -masticating. “Ah! why, why? The looms must be kept going, I tell you. -When one has weavers everywhere, in the neighbourhood of Lyons, in the -Gard, in the Isère, they can't stand still a day without an enormous -loss. Then we who sometimes employ makers having ten or fifteen looms -are better able to control the output, as far as regards the stock, -whilst the big manufacturers are obliged to have continual outlets, the -quickest and largest possible, so that they are on their knees before -the big shops. I know three or four who out-bid each other, and who -would sooner work at a loss than not obtain the orders. But they make -up for it with the small houses like yours. Yes, if they exist through -them, they make their profit out of you. Heaven knows how the crisis -will end!” - -“It's odious!” exclaimed Robineau, relieved by this cry of anger. - -Denise was quietly listening. She was secretly for the big shops, with -her instinctive love of logic and life. - -They had relapsed into silence, and were eating some potted French -beans; at last she ventured to say in a cheerful tone, “The public does -not complain.” - -Madame Robineau could not suppress a little laugh, which annoyed her -husband and Gaujean. No doubt the customer was satisfied, for, in -the end, it was the customer who profited by the fall in prices. But -everybody must live; where would they be if, under the pretext of -the general welfare, the consumer was fattened at the expense of the -producer? And then commenced a long discussion. Denise affected to be -joking, all the while producing solid arguments. All the middle-men -disappeared, the manufacturing agents, representatives, commission -agents, and this greatly contributed to cheapen the articles; besides, -the manufacturers could no longer live without the big shops, for as -soon as one of them lost their custom, failure became a certainty; in -short, it was a natural commercial evolution. It would be impossible to -prevent things going on as they ought to, when everybody was working for -that, whether they liked it or not. - -“So you are for those who turned you out into the street?” asked -Gaujean. - -Denise became very red. She herself was surprised at the vivacity of her -defence. What had she at heart, that such a flame should have invaded -her bosom? - -“Dear me, no!” replied she. “Perhaps I'm wrong, for you are more -competent to judge than I. I simply express my opinion. The prices, -instead of being settled as formerly by fifty houses, are now fixed -by four or five, which have lowered them, thanks to the power of their -capital, and the strength of their immense business. So much the better -for the public, that's all!” - -Robineau was not angry, but had become grave, keeping his eyes fixed -on the table-cloth. He had often felt this breath of the new style of -business, this evolution of which the young girl spoke; and he would ask -himself in his clear, quiet moments, why he should wish to resist such a -powerful current, which must carry everything before it Madame Robineau -herself, on seeing her husband deep in thought, glanced with approval at -Denise, who had modestly resumed her silent attitude. - -“Come,” resumed Gaujean, to cut short the argument, “all that is simply -theory. Let's talk of our matter.” - -After the cheese, the servant brought in some jam and some pears. He -took some jam, eating it with a spoon, with the unconscious greediness -of a big man very fond of sugar. - -“To begin with, you must attack their Paris Paradise, which has been -their success of the year. I have come to an understanding with -several of my brother manufacturers at Lyons, and have brought you an -exceptional offer--a black silk, that you can sell at five and a half. -They sell theirs at five francs twelve sous, don't they? Well! this will -be two sous less, and that will suffice to upset them.” - -At this Robineau's eyes lighted up again. In his continual nervous -torment, he often skipped like this from despair to hope. “Have you got -a sample?” asked he. And when Gaujean drew from his pocket-book a little -square of silk, he went into raptures, exclaiming: “Why, this is a -handsomer silk than the Paris Paradise! In any case it produces a better -effect, the grain is coarser. You are right, we must make the attempt If -I don't bring them to my feet, I'll give up this time!” - -Madame Robineau, sharing this enthusiasm, declared the silk superb, and -Denise herself thought they would succeed. The latter part of the dinner -was thus very gay. They talk in a loud tone; it seemed that The Ladies' -Paradise was at its last gasp. Gaujean, who was finishing the pot of -jam, explained what enormous sacrifices he and his colleagues would be -obliged to make to deliver such an article at this low price; but they -would ruin themselves rather than yield; they had sworn to kill the big -shops. As the coffee came in the gaiety was greatly increased by the -arrival of Vinçard, who had just called, in passing, to see how his -successor was getting on. - -“Famous!” cried he, feeling the silk. “You'll floor them, I stake my -life! Ah! you owe me a rare good thing; I told you this was a golden -affair!” - -He had just taken a restaurant at Vincennes. It was an old, cherished -idea, slyly nourished while he was struggling in the silk business, -trembling for fear he should not sell it before the crash came, and -swearing to himself that he would put his money into an undertaking -where he could rob at his ease. The idea of a restaurant had struck him -at the wedding of a cousin, who had been made to pay ten francs for -a bowl of dish water, in which floated some Italian paste. And, in -presence of the Robineaus, the joy he felt in having saddled them with -a badly-paying business of which he despaired of ever getting -rid, enlarged still further his face with its round eyes and large -loyal-looking mouth, a face beaming with health. - -“And your pains?” asked Madame Robineau, good-naturedly. - -“My pains?” murmured he, astonished. - -“Yes, those rheumatic pains which tormented you so much when you were -here.” - -He then recollected, and blushed slightly. “Oh, I suffered,” and -blushed slightly. “Oh I suffer from them still! However, the country -air, you know, has done wonders for me. Never mind, you've done a good -stroke of business. Had it not been for my rheumatics, I could soon have -retired with ten thousand francs a year. My word of honour!” - -A fortnight later, the struggle commenced between Robineau and The -Ladies' Paradise. It became celebrated, and occupied for a time the -whole Parisian market. Robineau, using his adversary's weapons, had -advertised extensively in the newspapers. Besides that, he made a fine -display, piling up enormous bales of the famous silk in his windows, -with immense white tickets, displaying in giant figures the price, five -francs and a half. It was this figure that caused a revolution among -the women; two sous cheaper than at The Ladies' Paradise, and the silk -appeared stronger. From the first day a crowd of customers flocked in. -Madame Marty bought a dress she did not want, pretending it to be a -bargain; Madame Bourdelais thought the silk very fine, but preferred -waiting, guessing no doubt what would happen. And, indeed the following -week, Mouret boldly reduced The Paris Paradise by four sous, after a -lively discussion with Bourdoncle and the other managers, in which -he had succeeded in inducing them to accept the challenge, even at a -sacrifice; for these four sous represented a dead loss, the silk being -sold already at strict cost price. It was a heavy blow to Robineau, who -did not think his rival would reduce; for this suicidal competition, -these losing sales, were then unknown; and the tide of customers, -attracted by the cheapness, had immediately flown back towards the Rue -Neuve-Saint-Augustin, whilst the shop in the Rue Neuve-des-Petits-Champs -gradually emptied. - -Gaujean came up from Lyons; there were hasty confabulations, and they -finished by coming to a most heroic resolution; the silk should be -lowered in price, they would sell it at five francs six sous, beneath -which no one could go, without folly. The next day Mouret marked his at -five francs four sous. After that it became a mania: Robineau replied by -five francs three sous, when Mouret at once ticketed his at five francs -and two sous. Neither lowered more than a sou at a time now, losing -considerable sums as often as they made this present to the public. The -customers laughed, delighted with this duel, moved by the terrible -blows dealt each other by the two houses to please them. At last Mouret -ventured as low as five francs; his staff paled before such a challenge -thrown down to fortune. Robineau, utterly beaten, out of breath, stopped -also at five francs, not having the courage to go any lower. And they -rested at their positions, face to face, with the massacre of their -goods around them. - -But if honour was saved on both sides, the situation was becoming fatal -for Robineau. The Ladies' Paradise had money at its disposal and a -patronage which enabled it to balance its profits; whilst he, sustained -by Gaujean alone, unable to recoup his losses on other articles, -was exhausted, and slipped daily a little further on the verge of -bankruptcy. He was dying from his hardihood, notwithstanding the -numerous customers that the hazards of the struggle had brought him. One -of his secret torments was to see these customers slowly quitting him, -returning to The Ladies' Paradise, after the money he had lost and the -efforts he had made to conquer them. - -One day he quite lost patience. A customer, Madame de Boves, had come to -his shop for some mantles, for he had added a ready-made department to -his business. She could not make up her mind, complaining of the quality -of the goods. At last she said: “Their Paris Paradise is a great deal -stronger.” - -Robineau restrained himself, assuring her that she was mistaken, with a -tradesman's politeness, all the more respectful, because he was afraid -to allow his anger to burst forth. - -“But just look at the silk of this mantle!” resumed she, “one would -really take it for so much cobweb. You may say what you like, sir, their -silk at five francs is like leather compared with this.” - -He did not reply, the blood rushing to his face, and his lips tightly -closed. In point of fact he had ingeniously thought of buying some of -his rival's silk for these mantles. So that it was Mouret, not he, who -lost on the material. He simply cut off the selvage. - -“Really you think the Paris Paradise thicker?” murmured he. - -“Oh! a hundred times!” said Madame de Boves. “There's no comparison.” - -This injustice on her part, her running down the goods in this way, -filled him with indignation. And, as she was still turning the mantle -over with a disgusted air, a little piece of the blue and silver -selvage, not cut off, appeared under the lining. He could not contain -himself any longer; he confessed he would even have given his head. - -“Well, madame, this _is_ Paris Paradise. I bought it myself! Look at the -border.” - -Madame de Boves went away greatly annoyed, and a number of ladies -quitted him when the affair became known. And he, amid this ruin, when -the fear for the future seized him, only trembled for his wife, who had -been brought up in a happy, peaceful home, and would never be able to -endure a life of poverty. What would become of her if a catastrophe -threw them into the street, with a load of debts? It was his fault, he -ought never to have touched her money. She was obliged to comfort him. -Wasn't the money as much his as hers? He loved her dearly, and she -wanted nothing more; she gave him everything, her heart and her life. -They could be heard in the back shop embracing one another. Little by -little, the affairs and ways of the house became more regular; every -month their losses increased, in a slow proportion which postponed the -fatal issue. A tenacious hope sustained them, they still announced the -near discomfiture of The Ladies' Paradise. - -“Pooh!” he would say, “we are young yet. The future is ours.” - -“And besides, what matters, if you have done what you wanted to do?” - resumed she. “As long as you are satisfied, I am as well, darling.” - -Denise's affection increased for them on seeing their tenderness. She -trembled, feeling their inevitable fall; but she dared not interfere. It -was then she fully understood the power of the new system of business, -and became impassioned for this force which was transforming Paris. Her -ideas were ripening, a woman's grace was developing out of the savage -child newly arrived from Valognes. In fact, her life was a pretty -pleasant one, notwithstanding the fatigue and the little money she -earned. When she had spent all the day on her feet, she had to go -straight home, and look after Pépé, whom old Bourras insisted on -feeding, fortunately; but there was still a lot to do: a shirt to wash, -stockings to mend; without mentioning the noise made by the youngster, -which made her head ache fit to split. She never went to bed before -midnight. Sunday was her hardest day: she cleaned her room, and mended -her own things, so busy that it was often five o'clock before she could -dress. However, she sometimes went out for health's sake, taking the -little one for a long walk, out towards Neuilly; and their treat was to -drink a cup of milk there at a dairyman's, who allowed them to sit down -in his yard. Jean disdained these excursions; he put in an appearance -now and again on week-day evenings, then disappeared, pretending to have -other visits to pay; he asked for no more money, but he arrived with -such a melancholy face, that his sister, anxious, always managed to keep -a five-franc piece for him. That was her sole luxury. - -“Five francs!” he would exclaim each time. “My stars! you're too good! -It just happens, there's the stationer's wife----” - -“Not another word,” Denise would say; “I don't want to know.” - -But he thought she was accusing him of boasting. “I tell you she's the -wife of a stationer! Oh! something magnificent!” - -Three months passed away, spring was returning. Denise refused to return -to Joinville with Pauline and Baugé. She sometimes met them in the Rue -Saint-Roch, when she left the shop in the evening. Pauline, one evening -when she was alone, confided to her that she was very likely going to -marry her lover; it was she who was hesitating, for they did not care -for married saleswomen at The Ladies' Paradise. This idea of marriage -surprised Denise, she did not dare to advise her friend. One day, just -as Colomban had stopped her near the fountain to talk about Clara, the -latter was crossing the road; and Denise was obliged to run away, for he -implored her to ask her old comrade if she would marry him. What was the -matter with them all? why were they tormenting themselves like this? She -thought herself very fortunate not to be in love with any one. - -“You've heard the news?” cried out the umbrella dealer to her one -evening on her return home from business. - -“No, Monsieur Bourras.” - -“Well! the scoundrels have bought the Hôtel Duvillard. I'm hemmed in on -all sides!” He was waving his long arms about, in a burst of fury -which made his white mane stand up on end. “A regular mixed-up affair,” - resumed the old man. “It appears that the hôtel belonged to the Crédit -Immobilier, the president of which, Baron Hartmann, has just sold it to -our famous Mouret. Now they've got me on the right, on the left, and -at the back, just in the way I'm holding the knob of this stick in my -hand!” - -It was true, the sale was to have been concluded the previous day. -Bourras's small house, hemmed in between The Ladies' Paradise and the -Hôtel Duvillard, hanging on like a swallow's nest in a crack of a wall, -seemed sure to be crushed, as soon as the shop invaded the hôtel, and -the time had now arrived. The colossus had turned the feeble obstacle, -and was surrounding it with a pile of goods, threatening to swallow it -up, to absorb it by the sole force of its giant aspiration. - -Bourras could feel the embrace which was making his shop creak. He -thought he could see the place getting smaller; he was afraid of being -absorbed himself, of being carried to the other side with his umbrellas -and sticks, so loudly was the terrible machine roaring just then. - -“Do you hear them?” asked he. “One would think they were eating up the -walls even! And in my cellar, in the attic, everywhere, there's the same -noise as of a saw going through the plaster. Never mind! I don't fancy -they'll flatten me out like a sheet of paper. I'll stick here, even if -they blow up my roof, and the rain should fall in bucketfuls on my bed!” - -It was just at this moment that Mouret caused fresh proposals to be made -to Bourras; they would increase the figure, they would give him fifty -thousand francs for his good-will and the remainder of the lease. This -offer redoubled the old man's anger; he refused in an insulting manner. -How these scoundrels must rob people to be able to pay fifty thousand -francs for a thing not worth ten thousand. And he defended his shop as a -young girl defends her virtue, for honour's sake. - -Denise noticed Bourras was pre-occupied during the next fortnight. He -wandered about in a feverish manner, measuring the walls of his house, -surveying it from the middle of the street with the air of an architect. -Then one morning some workmen arrived. This was the decisive blow. He -had conceived the bold idea of beating The Ladies' Paradise on its own -ground by making certain concessions to modern luxury. The customers, -who often reproached him about his dark shop, would certainly come back -again, when they saw it bright and new. In the first place, the workmen -stopped up the crevices and whitewashed the frontage, then they painted -the woodwork a light green, and even carried the splendour so far as to -gild the sign-board. A sum of three thousand francs, held in reserve -by Bourras as a last resource, was swallowed up in this way. The whole -neighbourhood was in a state of revolution; people came to look at -him amid all these riches, losing his head, no longer able to find -the things he was accustomed to. He did not seem to be at home in this -shining frame, in this tender setting; he seemed frightened, with his -long beard and white hair. The people passing on the opposite side -of the street were astonished on seeing him waving his arms about and -carving his handles. And he was in a state of fever, afraid of dirtying -his shop, plunging further into this luxurious business, which he did -not at all understand. - -The same as with Robineau, the campaign against The Ladies' Paradise was -opened by Bourras. The latter had just brought out his invention, -the automatic umbrella, which later on was to become popular. But The -Paradise people immediately improved on the invention, and a struggle of -prices commenced. Bourras had an article at one franc and nineteen sous, -in zanella, with steel mounting, everlasting, said the ticket, But -he was especially anxious to vanquish his competitors with his -handles--bamboo, dogwood, olive, myrtle, rattan, every imaginable sort -of handle. The Paradise people, less artistic, paid more attention to -the material, extolling their alpacas and mohairs, their twills and -sarcenets. And they came out victorious. Bourras, in despair, repeated -that art was done for, that he was reduced to carving his handles for -pleasure, without any hope of selling them. - -“It's my fault!” cried he to Denise. “I never ought to have kept a lot -of rotten articles, at one franc nineteen sous! That's where these new -notions lead one to. I wanted to follow the example of these brigands; -so much the better if I'm ruined by it!” - -The month of July was very warm, and Denise suffered greatly in her -narrow room, under the roof. So after leaving the shop, she sometimes -went and fetched Pépé, and instead of going up-stairs at once, went -for a stroll in the Tuileries Gardens until the gates were closed. One -evening as she was walking under the chestnut-trees she suddenly stopped -with surprise; a few yards off, walking straight towards her, she -thought she recognised Hutin. But her heart commenced to beat violently. -It was Mouret, who had dined over the water, and was hurrying along on -foot to call on Madame Desforges. At the abrupt movement she made to -escape him, he caught sight of her. The night was coming on, but still -he recognised her. - -“Ah, it's you, mademoiselle!” - -She did not reply, astonished that he should deign to stop. He, smiling, -concealed his constraint beneath an air of amiable protection. - -“You are still in Paris?” - -“Yes, sir,” said she at last. - -She was slowly drawing back, desirous of making a bow and continuing -her walk. But he turned and followed her under the black shadows of the -chestnut-trees. The air was getting cooler, some children were laughing -in the distance, trundling their hoops. - -“This is your brother, is it not?” resumed he, looking at Pépé. - -The little boy, frightened by the unusual presence of a gentleman, was -gravely walking by his sister's side, holding her tightly by the hand. - -“Yes, sir,” replied she once more. - -She blushed, thinking of the abominable inventions circulated by -Marguerite and Clara. No doubt Mouret understood why she was blushing, -for he quickly added: “Listen, mademoiselle, I have to apologise to you. -Yes, I should have been happy to have told you sooner how much I regret -the error that has been made. You were accused too lightly of a fault. -But the evil is done. I simply wanted to assure you that every one in -our establishment now knows of your affection for your brothers,” he -continued, with a respectful politeness to which the saleswomen in -The Ladies' Paradise were little accustomed. Denise's confusion had -increased; but her heart was filled with joy. He knew, then, that she -had given herself to no one! Both remained silent; he continued beside -her, regulating his walk to the child's short steps; and the distant -murmurs of the city were dying away under the black shadows of the -spreading chestnut-trees. “I have only one reparation to offer you,” - resumed he. “Naturally, if you would like to come back to us----” - -She interrupted him, and refused with a feverish haste. “No, sir, I -cannot. Thank you all the same, but I have found another situation.” - -He knew it, they had informed him she was with Robineau; and leisurely, -on a footing of amiable equality, he spoke of the latter, rendering -him full justice. A very intelligent fellow, but too nervous. He would -certainly come to grief: Gaujean had burdened him with a very heavy -business, in which they would both suffer. Denise, conquered by this -familiarity, opened her mind further, and allowed it to be seen that she -was for the big shops in the war between them and the small traders: -she became animated, citing examples, showing herself well up in the -question, even expressing new and enlightened ideas. He, charmed, -listened to her in surprise; and turned round, trying to distinguish -her features in the growing darkness. She seemed still the same with -her simple dress and sweet face; but from this modest bashfulness, there -seemed to exhale a penetrating perfume, of which he felt the powerful' -influence. Decidedly this little girl had got used to the air of Paris, -she was becoming quite a woman, and was really perturbing, so sensible, -with her beautiful hair, overflowing with tenderness. - -“As you are on our side,” said he, laughing, “why do you stay with our -adversaries? I fancy, too, they told me you lodged with Bourras.” - -“A very worthy man,” murmured she. - -“No, not a bit of it! he's an old idiot, a madman who will force me -to ruin him, though I should be glad to get rid of him with a fortune! -Besides, your place is not in his house, which has a bad reputation. He -lets to certain women----” - -But feeling that the young girl was confused, he hastened to add: “One -can be respectable anywhere, and there's even more merit in remaining so -when one is so poor.” - -They went on a few steps in silence. Pépé seemed to be listening with -the attentive air of a sharp child. Now and again he raised his eyes to -his sister, whose burning hand, quivering with sudden starts, astonished -him. - -“Look here!” resumed Mouret, gaily, “will you be my ambassador? I -intended increasing my offer to-morrow--of proposing eighty thousand -francs to Bourras. Do you speak to him first about it. Tell him he's -cutting his own throat. Perhaps he'll listen to you, as he has a liking -for you, and you'll be doing him a real service.” - -“Very well!” said Denise, smiling also, “I will deliver your message, -but I am afraid I shall not succeed.” - -And a fresh silence ensued, neither of them having anything more to say. -He attempted to talk of her uncle Baudu; but had to give it up on seeing -the young girl's uneasiness. However, they continued to walk side by -side, and at last found themselves near the Rue de Rivoli, in a path -where it was still light. On coming out of the darkness of the trees it -was like a sudden awakening. He understood that he could not detain her -any longer. - -“Good night, mademoiselle.” - -“Good night, sir.” - -But he did not go away. On raising his eyes he perceived in front of -him, at the corner of the Rue d'Alger, the lighted windows at Madame -Desforges's, whither he was bound. And looking at Denise, whom he could -now see, in the pale twilight, she appeared to him very puny beside -Henriette. Why was it she touched his heart in this way? It was a stupid -caprice. - -“This little man is getting tired,” resumed he, just for something to -say. “Remember, mind, that our house is always open to you; you've only -to knock, and I'll give you every compensation possible. Good night, -mademoiselle.” - -“Good night, sir,” - -When Mouret quitted her, Denise went back under the chestnut-trees, -in the black shadow. For a long time she walked on without any object, -between the enormous trunks, her face burning, her head in a whirl of -confused ideas. Pépé still had hold of her hand, stretching out his -short legs to keep pace with her. She had forgotten him. At last he -said: - -“You go too quick, little mother.” - -At this she sat down on a bench; and as he was tired, the child went to -sleep on her lap. She held him there, nestling to her virgin bosom, -her eyes lost far away in the darkness. When, an hour later on, they -returned slowly to the Rue de la Michodière, she had regained her usual -quiet, sensible expression. - -“Hell and thunder!” shouted Bourras, when he saw her coming, “the blow -is struck. That rascal of a Mouret has just bought my house.” He was -half mad, and was striking himself in the middle of the shop with such -outrageous gestures that he almost threatened to break the windows. “Ah! -the scoundrel! It's the fruiterer who's written to tell me this. And -how much do you think he has got for the house? One hundred and fifty -thousand francs, four times its value! There's another thief, if you -like! Just fancy, he has taken advantage of my embellishments, making -capital out of the fact that the house has been done up. How much longer -are they going to make a fool of me?” - -The thought that his money spent on paint and white-wash had brought -the fruiterer a profit exasperated him. And now Mouret would be his -landlord; he would have to pay him! It was beneath this detested -competitor's roof, that he must live in future! Such a thought raised -his fury to the highest possible pitch. - -“Ah! I could hear them digging a hole through the wall. At this moment, -they are here eating out of my very plate, so to say!” - -And the shop shook under his heavy fist which he banged on the counter; -he made the umbrellas and the parasols dance again. Denise, bewildered, -could not get in a word. She stood there, motionless, waiting for the -end of his tirade; whilst Pépé, very tired, had fallen asleep on a -chair. At last, when Bourras became a little calmer, she resolved to -deliver Mouret's message. No doubt the old man was irritated, but the -excess even of his anger, the blind alley in which he found himself, -might determine an abrupt acceptance. - -“I've just met some one,” she commenced. “Yes, a person from The -Paradise, very well informed. It appears that they are going to offer -you eighty thousand francs to-morrow.” - -“Eighty thousand francs!” interrupted he, in a terrible voice; “eighty -thousand francs! Not for a million now!” She tried to reason with him. -But at that moment the shop door opened, and she suddenly drew back, -pale and silent. It was her uncle Baudu, with his yellow face and aged -look. Bourras seized his neighbour by the button-hole, and roared out -in his face without allowing him to say a word, as if goaded on by his -presence: - -“What do you think they have the cheek to offer me? Eighty thousand -francs! They've got so far, the brigands! they think I'm going to -sell myself like a prostitute. Ah! they've bought the house, and think -they've now got me. Well! it's all over, they sha'n't have it! I might -have given way, perhaps; but now it belongs to them, let them try and -take it!” - -“So the news is true?” said Baudu in his slow voice. “I had heard of it, -and came over to know if it was so.” - -“Eighty thousand francs!” repeated Bourras. “Why not a hundred thousand -at once? It's this immense sum of money that makes me indignant Do they -think they can make me commit a knavish trick with their money! They -sha'n't have it, by heavens! Never, never, you hear me?” - -Denise gently observed, in her calm, quiet way: “They'll have it in nine -years' time, when your lease expires.” - -And, notwithstanding her uncle's presence, she begged of the old man to -accept. The struggle was becoming impossible, he was fighting against a -superior force; he would be mad to refuse the fortune offered him. But -he still replied no. In nine years' time he hoped to be dead, so as -not to see it “You hear, Monsieur Baudu,” resumed he, “your niece is on -their side, it's her they have employed to corrupt me. She's with the -brigands, my word of honour!” - -Baudu, who up to then had appeared not to notice Denise, now raised his -head, with the morose movement that he affected when standing at his -shop door, every time she passed. But, slowly, he turned round and -looked at her, and his thick lips trembled. - -“I know it,” replied he in a half-whisper, and he continued to look at -her. - -Denise, affected almost to tears, thought him greatly changed by -trouble. Perhaps he was stricken with remorse for not having assisted -her during the time of misery she had just passed through. Then the -sight of Pépé sleeping on the chair, amidst the noise of the discussion, -seemed to suddenly inspire him with compassion. - -“Denise,” said he simply, “come to-morrow and have dinner with us and -bring the little one. My wife and Geneviève asked me to invite you if I -met you.” - -She turned very red, and went up and kissed him. And as he was going -away, Bourras, delighted at this reconciliation, cried out to him again: -“Just talk to her, she isn't a bad sort. As for me, the house may fall, -I shall be found in the ruins.” - -“Our houses are already falling, neighbour,” said Baudu with a sombre -air. “We shall all be crushed under them.” - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -At this time the whole neighbourhood was talking of the great -thoroughfare to be opened from the Bourse to the new Opera House, under -the name of the Rue du Dix-Décembre. The expropriation judgments had -just been delivered, two gangs of demolishers were already attacking the -opening at the two ends, the first pulling down the old mansions in -the Rue Louis-le-Grand, the other destroying the thin walls of the old -Vaudeville; and one could hear the picks getting closer. The Rue de -Choiseul and the Rue de la Michodière got quite excited over their -condemned houses. Before a fortnight passed, the opening would make a -great hole in these streets, letting in the sun and air. - -But what stirred up the district still more, was the work going on at -The Ladies' Paradise. Considerable enlargements were talked of, -gigantic shops having frontages in the Rue de la Michodière, the Rue -Neuve-Saint-Augustin, and the Rue Monsigny. Mouret, it was said, -had made arrangements with Baron Hartmann, chairman of the Crédit -Immobilier, and he would occupy the whole block, except the future -frontage in the Rue du Dix-Décembre, on which the baron wished to -construct a rival to the Grand Hôtel. The Paradise people were buying up -leases on all sides, the shops were closing, the tenants moving; and -in the empty buildings an army of workmen were commencing the various -alterations under a cloud of plaster. In the midst of this disorder, -old Bourras's narrow hovel was the only one that remained standing and -intact, obstinately sticking between the high walls covered with masons. - -When, the next day, Denise went with Pépé to her uncle Baudu's, -the street was just at that moment blocked up by a line of tumbrels -discharging bricks before the Hôtel Duvillard. Baudu was standing at his -shop door looking on with a gloomy air. As The Ladies' Paradise became -larger, The Old Elbeuf seemed to get smaller. The young girl thought the -windows looked blacker than ever, and more and more crushed beneath the -low first storey, with its prison-like bars; the damp had still further -discoloured the old green sign-board, a sort of distress oozed from the -whole frontage, livid in hue, and, as it were, grown thinner. - -“Here you are, then!” said Baudu. “Take care! they would run right over -you.” - -Inside the shop, Denise experienced the same heart-broken sensation; she -found it darker, invaded more than ever by the somnolence of approaching -ruin; empty corners formed dark and gloomy holes, the dust was invading -the counters and drawers, whilst an odour of saltpetre rose from the -bales of cloth that were no longer moved about. At the desk Madame Baudu -and Geneviève were standing mute and motionless, as in some solitary -spot, where no one would come to disturb them. The mother was hemming -some dusters. The daughter, her hands spread on her knees, was gazing at -the emptiness before her. - -“Good evening, aunt,” said Denise; “I'm delighted to see you again, and -if I have hurt your feelings, I hope you will forgive me.” - -Madame Baudu kissed her, greatly affected. “My poor child,” said she, -“if I had no other troubles, you would see me gayer than this.” - -“Good evening, cousin,” resumed Denise, kissing Geneviève on the cheeks. - -The latter woke up with a sort of start, and returned her kisses, -without finding a word to say. The two women then took up Pépé, who was -holding out his little arms, and the reconciliation was complete. - -“Well! it's six o'clock, let's go to dinner,” said Baudu. “Why haven't -you brought Jean?” - -“But he was to come,” murmured Denise, embarrassed. “I saw him this -morning, and he faithfully promised me. Oh! we must not wait for him; -his master has kept him, I dare say.” She suspected some extraordinary -adventure, and wished to apologise for him in advance. - -“In that case, we will commence,” said her uncle. Then turning towards -the obscure depths of the shop, he added: - -“Come on, Colomban, you can dine with us. No one will come.” - -Denise had not noticed the shopman. Her aunt explained to her that they -had been obliged to get rid of the other salesman and the young lady. -Business was getting so bad that Colomban sufficed; and even he spent -many idle hours, drowsy, falling off to sleep with his eyes open. The -gas was burning in the dining-room, although they were enjoying long -summer days. Denise slightly shivered on entering, seized by the -dampness falling from the walls. She once more beheld the round table, -the places laid on the American cloth, the window drawing its air and -light from the dark and fetid back yard. And these things appeared to -her to be gloomier than ever, and tearful like the shop. - -“Father,” said Geneviève, uncomfortable for Denise's sake, “shall I -close the window? there's rather a bad smell.” - -He smelt nothing, and seemed surprised. “Shut the window if you like,” - replied he at last. “But we sha'n't get any air then.” - -And indeed they were almost stifled. It was a family dinner, very -simple. After the soup, as soon as the servant had served the boiled -beef, the old man as usual commenced about the people opposite. At first -he showed himself very tolerant, allowing his niece to have a different -opinion. - -“Dear me! you are quite free to support these great hairbrained houses. -Each one has his ideas, my girl. If you were not disgusted at being so -disgracefully chucked out you must have strong reasons for liking them; -and even if you went back again, I should think none the worse of you. -No one here would be offended, would they?” - -“Oh, no!” murmured Madame Baudu. - -Denise quietly gave her reasons, as she had at Robineau's: the logical -evolution in business, the necessities of modern times, the greatness -of these new creations, in short, the growing well-being of the public. -Baudu, his eyes opened, and his mouth clamming, listened with a visible -tension of intelligence. Then, when she had finished, he shook his head. - -“That's all phantasmagoria, you know. Business is business, there's no -getting over that. I own that they succeed, but that's all. For a -long time I thought they would smash up; yes, I expected that, waiting -patiently--you remember? Well, no, it appears that now-a-days thieves -make fortunes, whilst honest people die of hunger. That's what we've -come to. I'm obliged to bow to facts. And I do bow, on my word, I do -bow!” A deep anger was gradually rising within him. All at once he -flourished his fork. “But The Old Elbeuf will never give way! I said -as much to Bourras, you know, 'Neighbour, you're going over to the -cheapjacks; your paint and your varnish are a disgrace.'” - -“Eat your dinner!” interrupted Madame Baudu, feeling anxious, on seeing -him so excited. - -“Wait a bit, I want my niece thoroughly to understand my motto. Just -listen, my girl: I'm like this decanter, I don't budge. They succeed, so -much the worse for them! As for me, I protest--that's all!” - -The servant brought in a piece of roast veal. He cut it up with his -trembling hands; but he no longer had his correct glance, his skill in -weighing the portions. The consciousness of his defeat deprived him of -the confidence he used to have as a respected employer. Pépé thought his -uncle was getting angry, and they had to pacify him, by giving him some -dessert, some biscuits which were near his plate. Then Baudu, lowering -his voice, tried to talk of something else. For a moment he spoke of the -demolitions going on, approving of the Rue du Dix-Décembre, the cutting -of which would certainly improve the business of the neighbourhood. But -then again he returned to The Ladies' Paradise; everything brought him -back to it, it was a kind of complaint. They were covered with plaster, -and business was stopped since the builders' carts had commenced -to block up the street. It would soon be really ridiculous, in its -immensity; the customers would lose themselves. Why not have the -central markets at once? And, in spite of his wife's supplicating looks, -notwithstanding his own effort, he went on from the works to the amount -of business done in the big shop. Was it not inconceivable? In less -than four years they had increased their figures five-fold; the annual -receipts, formerly eight million francs, now attained the sum of forty -millions, according to the last balance-sheet. In fact it was a piece of -folly, a thing that had never been seen before, and against which it was -perfectly useless to struggle. They were always increasing, they had now -a thousand employees and twenty-eight departments. These twenty-eight -departments enraged him more than anything else. No doubt they had -duplicated a few, but others were quite new; for instance, a furniture -department, and a department for fancy goods. The idea! Fancy goods! -Really these people were not at all proud, they would end by selling -fish. Baudu, though affecting to respect Denise's opinions, attempted to -convert her. - -“Frankly, you can't defend them. What would you say were I to add a -hardware department to my cloth business? You would say I was mad. -Confess, at least, that you don't esteem them.” - -And as the young girl simply smiled, feeling uncomfortable, -understanding the uselessness of good reasons, he resumed: - -“In short, you are on their side. We won't talk about it any more, for -ifs useless to let that part us again. It would be too much to see them -come between me and my family! Go back with them, if you like; but pray -don't worry me with any more of their stories!” - -A silence ensued. His former violence was reduced to this feverish -resignation. As they were suffocating in the narrow room, heated by -the gas-burner, the servant had to open the window again; and the damp, -pestilential air from the yard blew into the apartment. A dish of stewed -potatoes appeared, and they helped themselves slowly, without a word. - -“Look at those two,” recommenced Baudu, pointing with his knife to -Geneviève and Colomban. “Ask them if they like your Ladies' Paradise.” - -Side by side in the usual place where they had found themselves twice -a-day for the last twelve years, the engaged couple were eating in -moderation, and without uttering a word. He, exaggerating the coarse -good-nature of his face, seemed to be concealing, behind his drooping -eyelashes, the inner flame which was devouring him; whilst she, her -head bowed lower beneath her too heavy hair, seemed to be giving way -entirely, as if ravaged by a secret grief. - -“Last year was very disastrous,” explained Baudu, “and we have been -obliged to postpone the marriage, not for our own pleasure; ask them -what they think of your friends.” Denise, in order to pacify him, -interrogated the young people. - -“Naturally I can't be very fond of them,” replied Geneviève. “But never -fear, every one doesn't detest them.” - -And she looked at Colomban, who was rolling up some bread-crumbs with an -absorbed air. When he felt the young girl's gaze directed towards him, -he broke out into a series of violent exclamations: “A rotten shop! -A lot of rogues, every man-jack of them! A regular pest in the -neighbourhood!” - -“You hear him!' You hear him!” exclaimed Baudu, delighted. “There's one -they'll never get hold of! Ah! my boy, you're the last of the old stock, -we sha'n't see any more!” But Geneviève, with her severe and suffering -look, still kept her eyes on Colomban, diving into the depths of his -heart. And he felt troubled, he redoubled his invectives. Madame -Baudu was watching them with an anxious air, as if she foresaw another -misfortune in this direction. For some time her daughter's sadness had -frightened her, she felt her to be dying. “The shop is left to take -care of itself,” said she at last, quitting the table, desirous of -putting an end to the scene. “Go and see, Colomban; I fancy I heard some -one.” - -They had finished, and got up. Baudu and Colomban went to speak to a -traveller, who had come for orders. Madame Baudu carried Pépé off to -show him some pictures. The servant had quickly cleared the table, and -Denise was lounging by the window, looking into the little back yard, -when turning round she saw Geneviève still in her place, her eyes fixed -on the American cloth, which was still damp from the sponge having been -passed over it. - -“Are you suffering, cousin?” she asked. - -The young girl did not reply, obstinately studying a rent in the cloth, -too preoccupied by the reflections passing through her mind. Then she -raised her head with pain, and looked at the sympathising face bent over -hers. The others had gone, then? What was she doing on this chair? And -suddenly a flood of sobs stifled her, her head fell forward on the edge -of the table. She wept on, wetting her sleeve with her tears. - -“Good heavens! what's the matter with you?” cried Denise in dismay. -“Shall I call some one?” - -Geneviève nervously seized her by the arm, and held her back, -stammering: “No, no, stay. Don't let mamma know! With you I don't mind; -but not the others--not the others! It's not my fault, I assure you. -It was on finding myself all alone. Wait a bit; I'm better, and Pm not -crying now.” - -But sudden attacks kept seizing her, causing her frail body to tremble. -It seemed as though the weight of her hair was weighing down her head. -As she was rolling her poor head on her folded arms, a hair-pin came -out, and her hair fell over her neck, burying it in its folds. Denise, -quietly, for fear of attracting attention, tried to console her. She -undid her dress, and was heart-broken on seeing how fearfully thin she -was. The poor girl's bosom was as hollow as that of a child. Denise -took the hair by handfuls, that superb head of hair which seemed to be -absorbing all her life, and twisted it up, to clear it away, and give -her a little air. - -“Thanks, you are very kind,” said Geneviève. “Ah! I'm not very stout, am -I? I used to be stouter, but it's all gone away. Do up my dress or mamma -might see my shoulders. I hide them as much as I can. Good heavens! I'm -not at all well, I'm not at all well.” - -However, the attack passed away, and she sat there completely worn out, -looking fixedly at her cousin. After a pause she abruptly asked: “Tell -me the truth: does he love her?” - -Denise felt a blush rising to her cheek. She was perfectly well aware -that Geneviève referred to Colomban and Clara; but she pretended to be -surprised. - -“Who, dear?” - -Geneviève shook her head with an incredulous air. “Don't tell -falsehoods, I beg of you. Do me the favour of setting my doubts at rest. -You must know, I feel it. Yes, you have been this girl's comrade, and -I've seen Colomban run after you, and talk to her in a low voice. He was -giving you messages for her, wasn't he? Oh! for pity's sake, tell me the -truth; I assure you it will do me good.” - -Never had Denise been in such an awkward position. She lowered her eyes -before this almost dumb girl, who yet guessed all. However, she had the -strength to deceive her still. “But it's you he loves!” - -Geneviève turned away in despair. “Very well, you won't tell me -anything. However, I don't care, I've seen them. He's continually going -outside to look at her. She, upstairs, laughs like a bad woman. Of -course they meet out of doors.” - -“As for that, no, I assure you!” exclaimed Denise, forgetting herself, -carried away by the desire to give her, at least, that consolation. - -The young girl drew a long breath, and smiled feebly. Then with the weak -voice of a convalescent: “I should like a glass of water. Excuse me if I -trouble you. Look, over there in the sideboard.” - -When she got hold of the bottle, she drank a large glassful right off, -keeping Denise away with one hand, the latter being afraid Geneviève -might do herself harm. - -“No, no, let me be; I'm always thirsty. In the night I get up to drink.” - There was a fresh silence. Then she went on again quietly: “If you only -knew, I've been accustomed to the idea of this marriage for the last ten -years. I was still wearing short dresses, when Colomban was courting me. -I hardly remember how things have come about By always living together, -being shut up here together, without any other distractions between us, -I must have ended by believing him to be my husband before he really -was. I didn't know whether I loved him. I was his wife, and that's all. -And now he wants to go off with another girl! Oh, heavens! my heart is -breaking! You see, it's a grief that I've never felt before. It hurts -me in the bosom, and in the head; then it spreads every where, and is -killing me.” - -Her eyes filled with tears. Denise, whose eyelids were also wet with -pity, asked her: “Does my aunt suspect anything?” - -“Yes, mamma has her suspicions, I think. As to papa, he is too worried, -and does not know the pain he is causing me by postponing this marriage. -Mamma has questioned me several times, greatly alarmed to see me pining -away. She has never been very strong herself, and has often said: 'My -poor child, I've not made you very strong.' Besides, one doesn't grow -much in these shops. But she must find me getting really too thin now. -Look at my arms; would you believe it?” - -And with a trembling hand she again took up the water bottle. Her cousin -tried to prevent her drinking. - -“No, I'm so thirsty, let me drink.” - -They could hear Baudu talking in a loud voice. Then yielding to an -inspiration of her tender heart, Denise knelt down before Geneviève, -throwing her arms round her neck, kissing her, and assuring her that -everything would turn out all right, that she would marry Colomban, that -she would get well, and live happily. But she got up quickly, her uncle -was calling her. - -“Jean is here. Come along.” - -It was indeed Jean, looking rather scared, who had come to dinner. When -they told him it was striking eight, he looked amazed. Impossible! He -had only just left his master's. They chaffed him. No doubt he had come -by way of the Bois de Vincennes. But as soon as he could get near his -sister, he whispered to her: “It's a little laundry-girl who was taking -back some linen. I've got a cab outside by the hour. Give me five -francs.” - -He went out a minute, and then returned to dinner, for Madame Baudu -would not hear of his going away without taking, at least, a plate of -soup. Geneviève had reappeared in her usual silent and retiring manner. -Colomban was half asleep behind the counter. The evening passed away, -slow and melancholy, only animated by Baudu's step, as he walked -from one end of the empty shop to the other. A single gas-burner was -alight--the shadow of the low ceiling fell in large masses, like black -earth from a ditch. - -Several months passed away. Denise came in nearly every evening to cheer -up Geneviève a bit, but the house became more melancholy than ever. The -works opposite were a continual torment, which intensified their bad -luck. Even when they had an hour of hope--some unexpected joy--the -falling of a tumbrel-load of bricks, the sound of the saw of a -stonecutter, or the simple call of a mason, sufficed at once to mar -their pleasure. In fact, the whole neighbourhood felt the shock. From -the boarded enclosure, running along and blocking up the three streets, -there issued a movement of feverish activity. Although the architect -used the existing buildings, he altered them in various ways to adapt -them to their new uses; and right in the centre at the opening caused by -the court-yards, he was building a central gallery as big as a -church, which was to terminate with a grand entrance in the Rue -Neuve-Saint-Augustin right in the middle of the frontage. They had, at -first, experienced great difficulty in laying the foundations, for they -had come on to some sewer deposits and loose earth, full of human -bones. Besides that, the boring of the well had made the neighbours very -anxious--a well three hundred feet deep, destined to give two hundred -gallons a minute. They had now got the walls up to the first storey; -the entire block was surrounded by scaffolding, regular towers of timber -work. There was an incessant noise from the grinding of the windlasses -hoisting up the stone, the abrupt discharge of iron bars, the clamour of -this army of workmen, accompanied by the noise of picks and hammers. -But above all, what deafened the people was the sound of the machinery. -Everything went by steam, screeching whistles rent the air; whilst, at -the slightest gust of wind, clouds of plaster flew about and covered the -neighbouring roofs like a fall of snow. The Baudus in despair looked -on at this implacable dust penetrating everywhere--getting through the -closest woodwork, soiling the goods in their shop, even gliding into -their beds; and the idea that they must continue to breathe it--that it -would finish by killing them--empoisoned their existence. - -The situation, however, was destined to become worse still, for in -September, the architect, afraid of not being ready, decided to carry -on the work at night also. Powerful electric lamps were established, -and the uproar became continuous. Gangs of men relieved each other; -the hammers never stopped, the engines whistled night and day; the -everlasting clamour seemed to raise and scatter the white dust The -Baudus now had to give up the idea of sleeping even; they were shaken in -their beds; the noises changed into nightmare as soon as they fell off -to sleep. Then, if they got up to calm their fever, and went, with bare -feet, to look out of the window, they were frightened by the vision -of The Ladies' Paradise flaring in the darkness like a colossal forge, -where their ruin was being forged. Along the half-built walls, dotted -with open bays, the electric lamps threw a large blue flood of light, -of a blinding intensity. Two o'clock struck--then three, then four; and -during the painful sleep of the neighbourhood, the works, increased -by this lunar brightness, became colossal and fantastic, swarming with -black shadows, noisy workmen, whose profiles gesticulated on the crude -whiteness of the new plastering. - -Baudu was quite right. The small traders in the neighbouring streets -were receiving another mortal blow. Every time The Ladies' Paradise -created new departments there were fresh failures among the shopkeepers -of the district The disaster spread, one could hear the cracking of -the oldest houses. Mademoiselle Tatin, at the under-linen shop in the -Passage Choiseul, had just been declared bankrupt; Quinette, the glover, -could hardly hold out another six months; the furriers, Vanpouille, were -obliged to sub-let a part of their premises; and if the Bédorés, brother -and sister, the hosiers, still kept on in the Rue Gaillon, they were -evidently living on money saved formerly. And now more smashes were -going to be added to those long since foreseen; the department for fancy -goods threatened a toy-shopkeeper in the Rue Saint-Roch, Deslignières, a -big, full-blooded man; whilst the furniture department attacked Messrs. -Piot and Rivoire, whose shops were sleeping in the shadow of the Passage -Sainte-Anne. It was even feared that an attack of apoplexy would carry -off the toyman, who had gone into a terrible rage on seeing The Ladies' -Paradise mark up purses at thirty per cent, reduction. The furniture -dealers, who were much calmer, affected to joke at these counter-jumpers -who wanted to meddle with such articles as chairs and tables; but -customers were already leaving them, the success of the department had -every appearance of being a formidable one. It was all over, they were -obliged to bow their heads. After these others would be swept off, and -there was no reason why every business should not be driven away. One -day The Ladies' Paradise alone would cover the neighbourhood with its -roof. - -At present, morning and evening, when the thousand employees went in and -came out, they formed such a long procession in the Place Gaillon that -people stopped to look at them as they would at a passing regiment. -For ten minutes they blocked up all the streets; and the shopkeepers at -their doors thought bitterly of their single assistant, whom they hardly -knew how to find food for. The last balance-sheet of the big shop, -the forty millions turned over, had also caused a revolution in the -neighbourhood. The figure passed from house to house amid cries of -surprise and anger. Forty millions! Think of that! No doubt the net -profit did not exceed more than four per cent., with their heavy general -expenses, and system of low prices; but sixteen hundred thousand francs -was a jolly sum, one could be satisfied with four per cent., when one -operated on such a scale as that. It was said that Mouret's starting -capital of five hundred thousand francs, augmented each year by the -total profits, a capital which must at that moment have amounted to four -millions, had thus passed ten times over the counters in the form of -goods. Robineau, when he made this calculation before Denise, after -dinner, was overcome for a moment, his eyes fixed on his empty plate. -She was right, it was this incessant renewal of the capital that -constituted the invincible force of the new system of business. Bourras -alone denied the facts, refusing to understand, superb and stupid as a -mile-stone. A pack of thieves and nothing more! A lying set! Cheap-jacks -who would be picked up out of the gutter one fine morning! - -The Baudus, however, notwithstanding their wish not to change anything -in the way of The Old Elbeuf, tried to sustain the competition. The -customers no longer coming to them, they forced themselves to go to the -customers, through the agency of travellers. There was at that time, in -the Paris market, a traveller connected with all the great tailors, -who saved the little cloth and flannel houses when he condescended to -represent them. Naturally they all tried to get hold of him; he assumed -the importance of a personage; and Baudu, having haggled with him, had -the misfortune of seeing him come to terms with the Matignons, in the -Rue Croix-des-Petits-Champs. One after the other, two other travellers -robbed him; a third, an honest man, did no business. It was a slow -death, without any shock, a continual decrease of business, customers -lost one by one. A day came when the bills fell very heavily. Up to -that time they had lived on their former savings; but now they began to -contract debts. In December, Baudu, terrified by the amount of the bills -he had accepted, resigned himself to a most cruel sacrifice: he sold his -country-house at Rambouillet, a house which cost him a lot of money in -continual repairs, and for which the tenants had not even paid the rent -when he decided to get rid of it. This sale killed the only dream of -his life, his heart bled as for the loss of some dear one. And he had to -sell for seventy thousand francs that which had cost him more than two -hundred thousand, considering himself fortunate to have met the Lhommes, -his neighbours, who were desirous of adding to their property. The -seventy thousand francs would keep the business going a little longer; -for notwithstanding the repulses already encountered, the idea of -struggling sprang up again; perhaps with great care they might conquer -even now. - -The Sunday on which the Lhommes paid the money, they were good enough to -dine at The Old Elbeuf. Madame Aurélie was the first to arrive; they had -to wait for the cashier, who came late, scared by a whole afternoon's -music; as for young Albert, he had accepted the invitation, but did not -put in an appearance. It was, moreover, a somewhat painful evening. The -Baudus, living without air in their narrow dining-room, suffered from -the gust of wind brought in by the Lhommes, with their scattered family -and taste for a free existence. Geneviève, wounded by Madame Aurélie's -imperial airs, did not open her mouth; whilst Colomban was admiring -her with a shiver, on reflecting that she reigned over Clara. Before -retiring to rest, in the evening, Madame Baudu being already in bed, -Baudu walked about the room for a long time. It was a mild night, -thawing and damp. Outside, notwithstanding the closed windows, and drawn -curtains, one could hear the machinery roaring on the opposite side of -the way. - -“Do you know what I'm thinking of, Elisabeth?” said he at last “Well! -these Lhommes may earn as much money as they like, I'd rather be in my -shoes than theirs. They get on well, it's true. The wife said, didn't -she? that she had made nearly twenty thousand francs this year, and that -has enabled her to take my poor house. Never mind! I've no longer the -house, but I don't go playing music in one direction, whilst you are -gadding about in the other. No, look you, they can't be happy.” - -He was still labouring under the grief of his sacrifice, nourishing -a certain rancour against those people who had bought up his darling -dream. When he came near the bed, he gesticulated, leaning over his -wife; then, returning to the window, he stood silent for a minute, -listening to the noise of the works. And he resumed his old accusations, -his despairing complaints about the new times; nobody had ever seen such -things, a shop-assistant earning more than a tradesman, cashiers buying -up the employers' property. Everything was going to the dogs; family -ties no longer existed, people lived at hôtels instead of eating their -meals at home in a respectable manner. He ended by prophesying that -young Albert would later on swallow up the Rambouillet property with a -lot of actresses. - -Madame Baudu listened to him, her head flat on the pillow, so pale that -her face was the colour of the sheets. “They've paid you,” at length -said she, softly. - -At this Baudu became dumb. He walked about for an instant with his eyes -on the ground. Then he resumed: “They've paid me, 'tis true; and, -after all, their money is as good as another's. It would be funny if we -revived the business with this money. Ah! if I were not so old and worn -out!” - -A long silence ensued. The draper was full of vague projects. Suddenly -his wife spoke again, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, without moving her -head: “Have you noticed your daughter lately?” - -“No,” replied he. - -“Well! she makes me rather anxious. She's getting pale, she seems to be -pining away.” - -He stood before the bed, full of surprise. “Really! whatever for? If -she's ill she should say so. To-morrow we must send for the doctor.” - -Madame Baudu still remained motionless. After a short time, she declared -with her meditative air: “This marriage with Colomban, I think it would -be better to get it over.” - -He looked at her, then began walking about again. Certain things came -back to his mind. Was it possible that his daughter was falling ill over -the shopman? Did she love him so much that she could not wait? Here was -another misfortune! It worried him all the more from the fact that he -himself had fixed ideas about this marriage. He could never consent to -it in the present state of affairs. However, his anxiety softened him. - -“Very good,” said he at last, “I'll speak to Colomban.” And without -saying another word he continued his walk. Soon afterwards his wife -fell off to sleep, quite white, as if dead; but he still kept on walking -about. Before getting into bed he drew aside the curtains and glanced -outside; on the other side of the street, the gaping windows of the old -Hôtel Duvillard showed the workmen moving about in the dazzling glare of -the electric light. - -The next morning Baudu took Colomban to the further end of the store, -on the upper floor, having made up his mind over night what he should -say to him. “My boy,” said he “you know I've sold my property at -Rambouillet. That will enable us to show good fight. But I should like -beforehand to have a talk with you.” - -The young man, who seemed to dread the interview, waited with an awkward -air. His small eyes twinkled in his large face, and he stood there with -his mouth open--a sign with him of profound agitation. - -“Just listen to me,” resumed the draper. “When old Hauchecorne left me -The Old Elbeuf, the house was prosperous; he himself had received it -from old Finet in a satisfactory state. You know my ideas; I should -consider it wrong if I passed this family trust to my children in a -diminished state; and that's why I've always postponed your marriage -with Geneviève. Yes, I was obstinate; I hoped to bring back our former -prosperity; I wanted to hand you the books, saying: 'Look here! the year -I commenced we sold so much cloth, and this year, the year I retire, we -have sold ten thousand or twenty thousand francs' worth more.' In short, -you understand, it was a vow I had made to myself, the very natural -desire I had to prove that the house had not lost anything in my hands. -Otherwise it would seem to me I was robbing you.” His voice was stifled -with emotion. He blew his nose to recover a bit, and asked, “You don't -say anything?” - -But Colomban had nothing to say. He shook his head, and waited, more and -more troubled, thinking he could guess what, the governor was aiming at. -It was the marriage without further delay. How could he refuse? He -would never have the strength. And the other girl, of whom he dreamed at -night, devoured by such a flame that he frequently threw himself quite -naked on the floor, in the fear of dying of it. - -“Now,” continued Baudu, “there's a sum of money that may save us. The -situation becomes worse every day, and perhaps by making a supreme -effort----In short, I thought it right to warn you. We are going to -venture our last stake. If we are beaten, why that will entirely ruin -us! But, my poor boy, your marriage must be again postponed, for I don't -wish to throw you two all alone into the struggle. That would be too -cowardly, wouldn't it?” - -Colomban, greatly relieved, had seated himself on a pile of swan-skin -flannel. His legs were still trembling. He was afraid of showing his -joy, he held down his head, rolling his fingers on his knees. - -“You don't say anything?” repeated Baudu. - -No, he said nothing, he could find nothing to say. The draper then -slowly continued: “I was sure this would grieve you. You must muster up -courage. Pull yourself together a bit, don't let yourself be crushed in -this way. Above all, understand my position. Can I hang such a weight on -your neck? Instead of leaving you a good business, I should leave you -a bankruptcy perhaps. No, it's only a scoundrel who would play such a -trick! No doubt, I desire nothing but your happiness, but no one shall -ever make me, go against my conscience.” - -And he went on for a long time in this way, swaying about in a maze of -contradictions, like a man who would have liked to be understood at -half a word and finds himself obliged to explain everything. As he had -promised his daughter and the shop, strict probity forced him to deliver -both in good condition, without defects or debts. But he was tired, the -burden seemed to be too much for him, his stammering voice was one of -supplication. He got more entangled than ever in his words, he was still -expecting a sudden rally from Colomban, some heartfelt cry, which came -not. - -“I know,” murmured he, “that old men are wanting in ardour. With young -ones, things light up. They are full of fire, it's natural. But, no, no, -I can't, my word of honour! If I gave it up to you, you would blame me -later on.” - -He stopped, trembling, and as the young man still kept his head down, -he asked him for the third time, after a painful silence: “You don't -say anything?” At last, but without looking at him, Colomban replied: -“There's nothing to say. You are the master, you know better than all of -us. As you wish it we'll wait, we'll try and be reasonable.” - -It was all over. Baudu still hoped he was going to throw himself into -his arms, exclaiming: “Father, do you take a rest, we'll fight in our -turn; give us the shop as it is, so that we may work a miracle and save -it! Then he looked at him, and was seized with shame, accusing himself -of having wished to dupe his children. The deep-rooted maniacal honesty -of the shopkeeper was awakened in him; it was this prudent fellow who -was right, for in business there is no such thing as sentiment, it is -only a question of figures. - -“Give me your hand, my boy,” said he in conclusion. “It's settled we -won't speak about the marriage for another year. One must think of the -business before everything.” That evening in their room when Madame -Baudu questioned her husband as to the result of the conversation, the -result of the conversation, the latter had resumed his obstinate wish to -fight in person to the bitter end. He gave Colomban high praise, -calling him a solid fellow, firm in his ideas, brought up with the best -principles, incapable, for instance, of joking with the customers like -those puppies at The Paradise. No, he was honest, he belonged to -the family, he didn't speculate on the business as though he were a -stock-jobber. - -“Well, then, when's the marriage to take place?” asked Madame Baudu. - -“Later on,” replied he, “when I am able to keep to my promises.” - -She made no gestures, she simply observed: “It will be our daughter's -death.” - -Baudu restrained himself, stirred up with anger. He was the one whom it -would kill, if they continually upset him like this! Was it his fault? -He loved his daughter--would lay down his life for her; but he could -not make the business prosper when it obstinately refused to do so. -Geneviève ought to have a little more sense, and wait patiently for a -better balance-sheet The deuce! Colomban was there, no one would run -away with him! - -“It's incredible!” repeated he; “such a well-trained girl!” - -Madame Baudu said no more. No doubt she had guessed Geneviève's jealous -agony; but she did not dare to inform her husband. A singular womanly -modesty always prevented her approaching certain tender, delicate -subjects with him. When he saw her so silent, he turned his anger -against the people opposite, stretching his fists out in the air, -towards the works, where they were setting up large iron girders, with a -great noise of hammers. - -Denise had decided to return to The Ladies' Paradise, having understood -that the Robineaus, though forced to cut down their staff, did not like -to dismiss her. To maintain their position, now, they were obliged to do -everything themselves. Gaujean, obstinate in his rancour, renewed their -bills, even promised to find them funds; but they were frightened, they -wanted to go in for economy and order. During a whole fortnight Denise -had felt uneasy with them, and she had to speak first, saying she had -found a situation elsewhere. This was a great relief. Madame Robineau -embraced her, deeply affected, saying she should always miss her. Then -when, in reply to a question, the young girl said she was going back to -Mouret's, Robineau turned pale. - -“You are right!” he exclaimed violently. - -It was not so easy to tell the news to old Bourras. However, Denise -had to give him notice, and she trembled, for she was full of gratitude -towards him. Bourras just at this time was in a continual fever of -rage--full of invectives against the works going on next door. The -builder's carts blocked up his doorway; the picks tapped on his walls; -everything in his place, the umbrellas and the sticks, danced about -to the noise of the hammers. It seemed that the hovel, obstinately -remaining amid all these demolitions, was going to give way. But the -worst of all was that the architect, in order to connect the existing -shops with those about to be opened in the Hôtel Duvillard, had -conceived the idea of boring a passage under the little house that -separated them. This house belonged to the firm of Mouret & Co., and -the lease stipulating that the tenant should submit to all necessary -repairs, the workmen appeared on the scene one morning. At this Bourras -nearly went into a fit. Wasn't it enough to strangle him on all sides, -on the right, the left, and behind, without attacking him underfoot as -well, taking the ground from under him! And he drove the masons -away, and went to law. Repairs, yes! but this was rather a work of -embellishment. The neighbourhood thought he would carry the day, -without, however, being sure of anything The case, however, threatened -to be a long one, and people became very excited over this interminable -duel. The day Denise resolved to give him notice, Bourras had just -returned from his lawyer. - -“Would you believe it!” exclaimed he, “they now say the house is not -solid; they pretend that the foundations must be strengthened. Confound -it! they have shaken it up so with their infernal machines, that it -isn't astonishing if it gives way!” - -Then, when the young girl announced she was going away, and that she was -going back to The Ladies' Paradise at a salary of a thousand francs, he -was so amazed that he simply raised his trembling hands in the air. The -emotion made him drop into a chair. - -“You! you!” he stammered. “Ah, I'm the only one--I'm the only one left!” - After a pause, he asked: “And the youngster?” - -“He'll go back to Madame Gras's,” replied Denise. - -“She was very fond of him! that can't be refused. You'll all go. Go, -then, leave me here alone. Yes, alone--you understand! There shall be -one who will never bow his head. And tell them I'll win my lawsuit, if I -have to sell my last shirt for it!” - -Denise was not to leave Robineau's till the end of the month. She had -seen Mouret again; everything was settled. One evening as she was going -up to her room, Deloche, who was watching for her in a doorway, stopped -her. He was delighted, having just heard the good news; they were all -talking about it in the shop, he said. And he told her the gossip of the -counters. - -“You know, the young ladies in the dress department are pulling long -faces!” Then, interrupting himself, he added: “By the way, you remember -Clara Primaire? Well, it appears the governor has------ You understand?” - -He had turned quite red. She, very pale, exclaimed: “Monsieur Mouret!” - -“Funny taste--eh?” he resumed. “A woman who looks like a horse. The -little girl from the under-linen department, whom he had twice last -year, was, at least, good-looking. However, that's his business.” - -Denise, once upstairs, almost fainted away. It was surely through coming -up too quick. Leaning out of the window she had a sudden vision of -Valognes, the deserted street and grassy pavement, which she used to -see from her room as a child; and she was seized with a desire to go -and live there--to seek refuge in the peace and forgetfulness of the -country. Paris irritated her, she hated The Ladies' Paradise, she hardly -knew why she had consented to go back. She would certainly suffer as -much as ever there; she was already suffering from an unknown uneasiness -since Deloche's stories. Suddenly, without any notice, a flood of tears -forced her to leave the window. She wept on for some time, and found -a little courage to live on still. The next day at breakfast-time, as -Robineau had sent her on an errand, and she was passing The Old Elbeuf, -she pushed open the door on seeing Colomban alone in the shop. The -Baudus were breakfasting; she could hear the clatter of the knives and -forks in the little room. - -“You can come in,” said the shopman. “They are at breakfast.” - -But she motioned him to be silent, and drew him into a corner. Then, -lowering her voice, she said: “It's you I want to speak to. Have you -no heart? Don't you see that Geneviève loves you, and that it's killing -her.” - -She was trembling, the previous night's fever had taken possession -of her again. He, frightened, surprised at this sudden attack, stood -looking at her, without a word. - -“Do you hear?” she continued. “Geneviève knows you love another. She -told me so. She wept like a child. Ah, poor girl! she isn't very strong -now, I can tell you! If you had seen her thin arms! It's heart-breaking. -You can't leave her to die like this!” - -At last he spoke, quite overcome. “But she isn't ill--you exaggerate! -I don't see anything myself. Besides, it's her father who is postponing -the marriage.” - -Denise sharply corrected this falsehood, certain that the least -persistence on the part of the young man would decide her uncle. As to -Colomban's surprise, it was not feigned; he had really never noticed -Geneviève's slow agony. For him it was a very disagreeable revelation; -for while he remained ignorant of it, he had no great blame to tax -himself with. - -“And who for?” resumed Denise. “For a worthless girl! You can't know -who you are loving! Up to the present I have not wanted to hurt your -feelings, I have often avoided answering your continual questions. Well! -she goes with everybody, she laughs at you, you will never have her, or -you may have her, like others, just once in a way.” - -He listened to her, very pale; and at each of the sentences she threw -into his face, his lips trembled. She, in a cruel fit, yielded to a -transport of anger of which she had no consciousness. “In short,” said -she in a final cry, “she's with Monsieur Mouret, if you want to know!” - -Her voice was stifled, she turned paler than Colomban himself. Both -stood looking at each other. Then he stammered out: “I love her!” - -Denise felt ashamed of herself. Why was she talking in this way to this -young fellow? Why was she getting so excited? She stood there mute, the -simple reply he had just given resounded in her heart like the clang of -a bell, which deafened her. “I love her, I love her!” and it seemed -to spread. He was right, he could not marry another woman. And as -she turned round, she observed Geneviève on the threshold of the -dining-room. - -“Be quiet!” she said rapidly. - -But it was too late, Geneviève must have heard, for her face was white -bloodless. Just at that moment a customer opened the door--Madame -Bourdelais, one of the last faithful customers of the Old Elbeuf where -she found solid goods for her money; for a long time past Madame de -Boves had followed the fashion, and gone over to The Ladies' Paradise; -Madame Marty herself no longer came, entirely captivated by the -seductions of the display opposite. And Geneviève was forced to go -forward, and say in her weak voice: - -“What do you desire, madame?” - -Madame Bourdelais wished to see some flannel. Colomban took down a roll -from a shelf. Geneviève showed the article; and both of them, their -hands cold, found themselves brought together behind the counter. -Meanwhile Baudu came out of the dining-room last, behind his wife, who -had gone and seated herself at the pay-desk. At first he did not meddle -with the sale, but stood up, looking at Madame Bourdelais. - -“It is not good enough,” said the latter. “Show me the strongest you -have.” - -Colomban took down another bundle. There was a silence. Madame -Bourdelais examined the stuff. - -“How much?” - -“Six francs, madame,” replied Geneviève. The lady made an abrupt -movement. “Six francs!” said she. “But they have the same opposite at -five francs.” - -A slight contraction passed over Baudu's face. He could not help -interfering politely. No doubt madame made a mistake, the stuff ought to -have been sold at six francs and a half; it was impossible to give it at -five francs. It must be another quality she was referring to. - -“No, no,” she repeated, with the obstinacy of a lady who could not be -deceived. “The quality is the same. It may even be a little thicker.” - -And the discussion got very warm. Baudu, his face getting bilious, -made an effort to continue smiling. His bitterness against The Ladies' -Paradise was bursting in his throat. - -“Really,” said Madame Bourdelais at last, “you must treat me better, -otherwise I shall go opposite, like the others.” - -He then lost his head, and cried out, shaking with a passion he could -not repress: “Well! go opposite!” - -At this she got up, greatly annoyed, and went away without turning -round, saying: “That's what I am going to do, sir.” - -A general stupor ensued. The governor's violence had frightened all of -them. He was himself scared, and trembled at what he had just said. The -phrase had escaped against his will in the explosion of a long pent-up -rancour. And the Baudus now stood there motionless, following Madame -Bourdelais with their looks, watching her cross the street. She seemed -to be carrying off their fortune. When she slowly passed under the high -door of The Ladies' Paradise, when they saw her disappear in the crowd, -they felt a sort of sudden wrench. - -“There's another they've taken from us!” murmured the draper. Then -turning towards Denise, of whose re-engagement he was aware, he said: -“You as well, they've taken you back. Oh, I don't blame you for it. As -they have the money, they are naturally the strongest.” - -Just then, Denise, still hoping that Geneviève had not overheard -Colomban, was saying to her: “He loves you. Try and cheer up.” - -But the young girl replied to her in a very low and heartbroken voice: -“Why do you tell me a falsehood? Look! he can't help it, he's always -glancing up there. I know very well they've stolen him from me, as -they've robbed us of everything else.” - -Geneviève went and sat down on the seat at the desk near her mother. The -latter had doubtless guessed the fresh blow received by her daughter, -for her anxious eyes wandered from her to Colomban, and then to The -Ladies' Paradise. It was true, they had stolen everything from them: -from the father, a fortune; from the mother, her dying child; from the -daughter, a husband, waited for for ten years. Before this condemned -family, Denise, whose heart was overflowing with pity, felt for an -instant afraid of being wicked. Was she not going to assist this machine -which was crushing the poor people? But she felt herself carried away as -it were by an invisible force, and knew that she was doing no wrong. - -“Bah!” resumed Baudu, to give himself courage; “we sha'n't die over it, -after all. For one customer lost we shall find two others. You hear, -Denise, I've got over seventy thousand francs there, which will -certainly trouble your Mouret's rest. Come, come, you others, don't look -so glum!” - -But he could not enliven them. He himself relapsed into a pale -consternation; and they all stood with their eyes on the monster, -attracted, possessed, full of their misfortune. The work was nearly -finished, the scaffolding had been removed from the front, a whole -side of the colossal edifice appeared, with its walls and large light -windows. - -Along the pavement at last open to circulation, stood eight vans that -the messengers were loading one after the other. - -In the sunshine, a ray of which ran along the street, the green panels, -picked out with red and yellow, sparkled like so many mirrors, sending -blinding reflections right into The Old Elbeuf. The drivers, dressed in -black, of a correct appearance, were holding the horses well in, superb -pairs, shaking their silvered bits. And each time a van was loaded, -there was a sonorous, rolling noise, which made the neighbouring small -shops tremble. And before this triumphal procession, which they were -destined to submit to twice a day, the Baudus' hearts broke. The father -half fainted away, asking himself where this continual flood of goods -could go to; whilst the mother, tormented to death about her daughter, -continued to gaze into the street, her eyes drowned in a flood of tears. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -It was on a Monday, the 14th of March, that The Ladies' Paradise -inaugurated its new buildings by a great exhibition of summer novelties, -which was to last three days. Outside, a sharp wind was blowing, the -passers-by, surprised by this return of winter, spun along, buttoned up -in their overcoats. However, behind the closed doors of the neighbouring -shops, quite an agitation was fermenting; and one could see, against the -windows, the pale faces of the small tradesmen, occupied in counting the -first carriages which stopped before the new grand entrance in the Rue -Neuve-Saint-Augustin. This door, lofty and deep like a church porch, -surmounted by a group--Industry and Commerce hand-in-hand amidst a -complication of symbols--was sheltered by a vast awning, the fresh -gilding of which seemed to light up the pavement with a ray of sunshine. -To the right and left stretched the shop fronts, barely dry and of a -blinding whiteness, running along the Rue Monsigny and the Rue de -la Michodière, occupying the whole island, except on the Rue du -Dix-Décembre side, where the Crédit Immobilier intended to build. -Along this barrack-like development, the small tradesmen, when they -raised their heads, perceived the piles of goods through the large -plate-glass windows which, from the ground floor up to the second -storey, opened the house to the light of day. And this enormous cube, -this colossal bazaar, shut out the sky from them, seeming to cause the -cold which was making them shiver behind their frozen counters. - -As early as six o'clock, Mouret was on the spot, giving his final -orders. In the centre, starting from the grand entrance, a large gallery -ran from end to end, flanked right and left by two narrower galleries, -the Monsigny Gallery and the Michodière Gallery. The court-yards had -been glazed and turned into halls, iron staircases rose from the ground -floor, iron bridges were thrown from one end to the other on the two -storeys. The architect, who happened to be a young man of talent with -modern ideas, had only used stone for the under-ground floor and the -corner pillars, constructing the whole ground with the corner pillars, -constructing the whole carcase of iron, the assemblage of beams and -rafters being supported by columns. The arches of the flooring and the -partitions were of brickwork. Space had been gained everywhere, light -and air entered freely, and the public circulated with the greatest -ease under the bold flights of the far-stretching girders. It was the -cathedral of modern commerce, light but solid, made for a nation of -customers. Below, in the central gallery, after the door bargains, came -the cravat, the glove, and the silk departments; the Monsigny Gallery -was occupied by the linen and the Rouen goods; the Michodière Gallery -by the mercery, the hosiery, the drapery, and the woollen departments. -Then, on the first floor were installed the ready-made, the under-linen, -the shawl, the lace, and other new departments, whilst the bedding, the -carpets, the furnishing materials, all the cumbersome articles difficult -to handle, had been relegated to the second floor. The number of -departments was now thirty-nine, with eighteen hundred employees, of -whom two hundred were women. Quite a little world operated there, in the -sonorous life of the high metallic naves. - -Mouret's unique passion was to conquer woman. He wished her to be queen -in his house, and he had built this temple to get her completely at his -mercy. His sole aim was to intoxicate her with gallant attentions, and -traffic on her desires, work on her fever. Night and day he racked his -brain to invent fresh attractions. He had already introduced two lifts -lined with velvet for the upper storeys, in order to spare delicate -ladies the trouble of mounting the stairs. Then he had just opened a bar -where the customers could find, gratis, some light refreshment, syrups -and biscuits, and a reading-room, a monumental gallery, decorated with -excessive luxury, in which he had even ventured on an exhibition of -pictures. But his most profound idea was to conquer the mother through -the child, when unable to do so through her coquetry; he neglected no -means, speculated on every sentiment, created departments for little -boys and girls, arresting the passing mothers by distributing pictures -and air-balls to the children. A stroke of genius this idea of -distributing to each buyer a red air-ball made of fine gutta-percha, -bearing in large letters the name of the shop, and which, held by -a string, floated in the air, parading in the streets a living -advertisement. - -But the greatest power of all was the advertising. Mouret spent three -hundred thousand francs a year in catalogues, advertisements, and -bills. For his summer sale he had launched forth two hundred thousand -catalogues, of which fifty thousand went abroad, translated into every -language. He now had them illustrated with engravings, even accompanying -them with samples, gummed between the leaves. It was an overflowing -display; The Ladies' Paradise became a household word all over the -world, invading the walls, the newspapers, and even the curtains at the -theatres. He declared that woman was powerless against advertising, that -she was bound to follow the crowd. Not only that, he laid still more -seductive traps for her, analysing her like a great moralist. Thus he -had discovered that she could not resist a bargain, that she bought -without necessity when she thought she saw a cheap line, and on this -observation he based his system of reductions in price, progressively -lowering the price of unsold articles, preferring to sell them at a -loss, faithful to his principle of the continual renewal of the goods. -He had penetrated still further into the heart of woman, and had just -thought of the “returns,” a masterpiece of Jesuitical seduction. “Take -whatever you like, madame; you can return the article if you don't like -it.” And the woman who hesitated was provided with the last excuse, the -possibility of repairing an extravagant folly, she took the article with -an easy conscience. The returns and the reduction of prices now formed -part of the classical working of the new style of business. - -But where Mouret revealed himself as an unrivalled master was in the -interior arrangement of the shops. He laid down as a law that not a -corner of The Ladies' Paradise ought to remain deserted, requiring -everywhere a noise, a crowd, evidence of life; for life, said he, -attracts life, increases and multiplies. From this law he drew all sorts -of applications. In the first place, there ought always to be a crush at -the entrance, so that the people in the street should mistake it for -a riot; and he obtained this crush by placing a lot of bargains at the -doors, shelves and baskets overflowing with very low-priced articles; -so that the common people crowded there, stopping up the doorway, making -the shop look as if it were crammed with customers, when it was often -only half full. Then, in the galleries, he had the art of concealing -the departments in which business was slack; for instance, the shawl -department in summer, and the printed calico department in winter, he -surrounded them with busy departments, drowning them with a continual -uproar. It was he alone who had been inspired with the idea of placing -on the second-floor the carpet and furniture counters, counters where -the customers were less frequent, and which if placed on the ground -floor would have caused empty, cold spaces. If he could have managed it, -he would have had the street running through his shop. - -Just at that moment, Mouret was a prey to an attack of inspiration. On -the Saturday evening, as he was giving a last look at the preparations -for the Monday's great sale, he was suddenly struck with the idea that -the arrangement of the departments adopted by him was wrong and stupid; -and yet It seemed a perfectly logical arrangement: the stuffs on one -side, the made-up articles on the other, an intelligent order of things -which would enable the customers to find their way themselves. He had -thought of this orderly arrangement formerly, in Madame Hédouin's narrow -shop; and now he felt his faith shaken, just as he carried out his idea. -Suddenly he cried out that they would “have to alter all that.” They had -forty-eight hours, and half what had been done had to be changed. The -staff, frightened, bewildered, had been obliged to work two nights and -the entire Sunday, amidst a frightful disorder. On the Monday morning -even, an hour before the opening, there was still some goods to be -placed. Decidedly the governor was going mad, no one understood, a -general consternation prevailed. - -[Illustration: 0355] - -“Come, look sharp!” cried Mouret, with the quiet assurance of his -genius. “There are some more costumes to be taken upstairs. And the -Japan goods, are they placed on the central landing? A last effort, my -boys, you'll see the sale by-and-by.” - -Bourdoncle had also been there since daybreak. He did not understand any -more than the others, and he followed the governor's movements with -an anxious eye. He hardly dared to ask him any questions, knowing how -Mouret received people in these critical moments. However, he at last -made up his mind, and gently asked: “Was it really necessary to upset -everything like that, on the eve of our sale?” - -At first Mouret shrugged his shoulders without replying. Then as the -other persisted, he burst out: “So that all the customers should heap -themselves into one corner--eh? A nice idea of mine! I should never have -got over it! Don't you see that it would have localised the crowd. A -woman would have come in, gone straight to the department she wished, -passed from the petticoat counter to the dress one, from the dress to -the mantle, then retired, without having even lost herself for a moment? -Not one would have thoroughly seen the establishment!” - -“But,” remarked Bourdoncle, “now that you have disarranged everything, -and thrown the goods all over the place, the employees will wear out -their legs in guiding the customers from department to department.” - -Mouret gave a look of superb contempt. “I don't care a hang for that! -They're young, it'll make them grow! So much the better if they do walk -about! They'll appear more numerous, and increase the crowd. The greater -the crush the better; all will go well!” He laughed, and deigned to -explain his idea, lowering his voice: “Look here, Bourdoncle, listen to -the result. Firstly, this continual circulation of customers disperses -them all over the shop, multiplies them, and makes them lose their -heads; secondly, as they must be conducted from one end of the -establishment to the other, if they want, for instance, a lining after -having bought a dress, these journeys in every direction triple the -size of the house in their eyes; thirdly, they are forced to traverse -departments where they would never have set foot otherwise, temptations -present themselves on their passage, and they succumb; fourthly----” - -Bourdoncle was now laughing with him. At this Mouret, delighted, stopped -to call out to the messengers: “Very good, my boys! now for a sweep, and -it'll be splendid!” - -But on turning round he perceived Denise. He and Bourdoncle were -opposite the ready-made department, which he had just dismembered by -sending the dresses and costumes up on the second-floor at the other -end of the building. Denise, the first down, was opening her eyes with -astonishment, quite bewildered by the new arrangements. - -“What is it?” murmured she; “are we going to move?” This surprise -appeared to amuse Mouret, who adored these sensational effects. Early in -February Denise had returned to The Ladies' Paradise, where she had been -agreeably surprised to find the staff polite, almost respectful. Madame -Aurélie especially was very kind; Marguerite and Clara seemed resigned; -even down to old Jouve, who also bowed his head, with an awkward -embarrassed air, as if desirous of effacing the disagreeable memory of -the past. It sufficed that Mouret had said a few words, everybody -was whispering, following her with their eyes. And in this general -amiability, the only things that wounded her were Deloche's singularly -melancholy looks, and Paulines inexplicable smiles. However, Mouret was -still looking at her in his delighted way. - -“What is it you want, mademoiselle?” asked he at last. - -Denise had noticed him. She blushed slightly. Since her return she had -received marks of kindness from him which greatly touched her. Pauline, -without her knowing why, had given her a full account of the governor's -and Clara's love affairs: where he saw her, and what he paid her; and -she often returned to the subject, even adding that he had another -mistress, that Madame Desforges, well known by all the shop. Such -stories stirred up Denise, she felt in his presence all her former -fears, an uneasiness in which her gratitude was struggling against her -anger. - -“It's all this confusion going on in the place,” she murmured. - -Mouret then approached her and said in a lower voice: - -“Have the goodness to come to my office this evening after business. I -wish to speak to you.” - -Greatly agitated, she bowed her head without saying a word. And she went -into the department where the other saleswomen were now arriving. But -Bourdoncle had overheard Mouret, and he looked at him with a smile. He -even ventured to say when they were alone: - -“That girl again! Be careful; it will end by being serious!” - -Mouret hastily defended himself, concealing his emotion beneath an -air of superior indifference. “Never fear, it's only a joke! The woman -who'll catch me isn't born, my dear fellow!” - -And as the shop was opening at last, he rushed off to give a final look -at the various counters. Bourdoncle shook his head. This Denise, so -simple and quiet, began to make him uneasy. The first time, he had -conquered by a brutal dismissal. But she had reappeared, and he felt she -had become so strong that he now treated her as a redoubtable adversary, -remaining mute before her, patiently waiting. Mouret, whom he caught up, -was shouting out downstairs, in the Saint-Augustin Hall, opposite the -entrance door: - -“Are you playing with me? I ordered the blue parasols to be put as a -border. Just pull all that down, and be quick about it!” - -He would listen to nothing; a gang of messengers had to come and -re-arrange the exhibition of parasols. Seeing the customers arriving, he -even had the doors closed for a moment, declaring that he would not open -them, rather than have the blue parasols in the centre. It ruined his -composition. The renowned dressers, Hutin, Mignot, and others, came to -look, and opened their eyes; but they affected not to understand, being -of a different school. - -At last the doors were opened again, and the crowd flowed in. From the -first, before the shop was full, there was such a crush at the -doorway that they were obliged to call the police to re-establish the -circulation on the pavement. Mouret had calculated correctly; all the -housekeepers, a compact troop of middle-class women and workmen's wives, -swarmed around the bargains and remnants displayed in the open street. -They felt the “hung” goods at the entrance; a calico at seven sous, -a wool and cotton grey stuff at nine sous, and, above all, an Orleans -cloth at seven sous and half, which was emptying the poorer purses. -There was an elbowing, a feverish crushing around the shelves and -baskets containing the articles at reduced prices, lace at two sous, -ribbon at five, garters at three the pair, gloves, petticoats, cravats, -cotton socks, and stockings, were all tumbled about, and disappearing, -as if swallowed up by the voracious crowd. Notwithstanding the cold, the -shopmen who were selling in the open street could not serve fast enough. -A woman in the family way cried out with pain; two little girls were -nearly stifled. - -All the morning this crush went on increasing. Towards one o'clock there -was a crowd waiting to enter; the street was blocked as in a time of -riot. Just at that moment, as Madame de Boves and her daughter Blanche -were standing on the pavement opposite, hesitating, they were accosted -by Madame Marty, also accompanied by her daughter Valentine. - -“What a crowd--eh?” said the former. “They're killing themselves inside. -I ought not to have come, I was in bed, but got up to get a little fresh -air.” - -“Just like me,” said the other. “I promised my husband to go and see his -sister at Montmartre. Then just as I was passing, I thought of a piece -of braid I wanted. I may as well buy it here as anywhere else, mayn't I? -Oh, I sha'n't spend a sou! in fact I don't want anything.” - -However, they did not take their eyes off the door, seized and carried -away as it were by the force of the crowd. - -“No, no, I'm not going in, I'm afraid,” murmured Madame de Boves. -“Blanche, let's go away, we should be crushed.” But her voice failed, -she was gradually yielding to the desire to follow the others; and her -fear dissolved in the irresistible attraction of the crush. Madame Marty -was also giving way, repeating: - -“Keep hold of my dress, Valentine. Ah, well! I've never seen such a -thing before. You are lifted off your feet. What will it be like inside?” - -The ladies, seized by the current, could not now go back. As streams -attract to themselves the fugitive waters of a valley, so it seemed that -the wave of customers, flowing into the vestibule, was absorbing the -passers-by, drinking in the population from the four corners of Paris. -They advanced but slowly, squeezed almost to death, kept upright by the -shoulders and bellies around them, of which they felt the close heat; -and their satisfied desire enjoyed the painful entrance which incited -still further their curiosity. There was a pell-mell of ladies arrayed -in silk, of poorly dressed middle-class women, and of bare-headed girls, -all excited and carried away by the same passion. A few men buried -beneath the overflow of bosoms were casting anxious glances around them. -A nurse, in the thickest of the crowd, held her baby above her head, the -youngster crowing with delight. The only one to get angry was a skinny -woman, who broke out into bad words, accusing her neighbour of digging -right into her. - -“I really think I shall lose my skirts in this crowd,” remarked Madame -de Boves. - -Mute, her face still fresh from the open air, Madame Marty was standing -on tip-toe to see above the others' heads into the depths of the shop. -The pupils of her grey eyes were as contracted as those of a cat coming -out of the broad daylight; she had the reposed flesh, and the clear -expression of a person just waking up. - -“Ah, at last!” said she, heaving a sigh. - -The ladies had just extricated themselves. They were in the -Saint-Augustin Hall, which they were greatly surprised to find almost -empty. But a feeling of comfort invaded them, they seemed to be entering -into spring-time after emerging from the winter of the street. Whilst -outside, the frozen wind, laden with rain and hail, was still blowing, -the fine season, in The Paradise galleries, was already budding forth -with the light stuffs, the flowery brilliancy of the tender shades, the -rural gaiety of the summer dresses and the parasols. - -“Do look there!” exclaimed Madame de Boves, standing motionless, her -eyes in the air. - -It was the exhibition of parasols. Wide-open, rounded off like shields, -they covered the whole hall, from the glazed roof to the varnished oak -mouldings below. They described festoons round the semi-circular arches -of the upper storeys; they descended in garlands along the slender -columns; they ran along in close lines on the balustrades of the -galleries and the staircases; and everywhere, ranged symmetrically, -speckling the walls with red, green, and yellow, they looked like great -Venetian lanterns, lighted up for some colossal entertainment. In the -corners were more complicated patterns, stars composed of parasols at -thirty-nine sous, the light shades of which, pale-blue, cream-white, and -blush rose, seemed to burn with the sweetness of a night-light; whilst -up above, immense Japanese parasols, on which golden-coloured cranes -soared in a purple sky, blazed forth with the reflections of a great -conflagration. - -Madame Marty endeavoured to find a phrase to express her rapture, but -could only exclaim, “It's like fairyland!” Then trying to find out -where she was she continued: “Let's see, the braid is in the mercery -department. I shall buy my braid and be off.” - -“I will go with you,” said Madame de Boves. “Eh? Blanche, we'll just go -through the shop, nothing more.” - -But they had hardly left the door before they lost themselves. They -turned to the left, and as the mercery department had been moved, they -dropped right into the middle of the one devoted to collarettes, cuffs, -trimmings, &c. It was very warm under the galleries, a hot-house heat, -moist and close, laden with the insipid odour of the stuffs, and in -which the stamping of the crowd was stifled. They then returned to the -door, where an outward current was already established, an interminable -line of women and children, over whom floated a multitude of red -air-balls. Forty thousand of these were ready; there were men specially -placed for their distribution. To see the customers who were going out, -one would have thought there was a flight of enormous soap-bubbles above -them, at the end of the almost invisible strings, reflecting the fiery -glare of the parasols. The whole place was illuminated by them. - -“There's quite a world here!” declared Madame de Boves. “You hardly know -where you are.” - -However, the ladies could not remain in the eddy of the door, right in -the crush of the entrance and exit. Fortunately, Jouve, the inspector, -came to their assistance. He stood in the vestibule, grave, attentive, -eyeing each woman as she passed. Specially charged with the inside -police, he was on the lookout for thieves, and especially followed women -in the family way, when the fever of their eyes became too alarming. - -“The mercery department, ladies?” said he obligingly, “turn to the left; -look! just there behind the hosiery department.” - -Madame de Boves thanked him. But Madame Marty, turning round, no -longer saw her daughter Valentine beside her. She was beginning to feel -frightened, when she caught sight of her, already a long way off, at the -end of the Saint-Augustin Hall, deeply absorbed before a table covered -with a heap of women's cravats at nineteen sous. Mouret practised the -system of offering articles to the customers, hooking and plundering -them as they passed; for he used every sort of advertisement, laughing -at the discretion of certain fellow-tradesmen who thought the articles -should be left to speak for themselves. Special salesmen, idle and -smooth-tongued Parisians, thus got rid of considerable quantities of -small trashy things. - -“Oh, mamma!” murmured Valentine, “just look at these cravats. They have -a bird embroidered at the corners.” - -The shopman cracked up the article, swore it was all silk, that the -manufacturer had become bankrupt, and that they would never have such a -bargain again. - -“Nineteen sous--is it possible?” said Madame Marty, tempted as well as -her daughter. “Well! I can take a couple, that won't ruin us.” - -Madame de Boves disdained this style of thing, she detested things -being offered. A shopman calling her made her run away. Madame Marty, -surprised, could not understand this nervous horror of commercial -quackery, for she was of another nature; she was one of those fortunate -women who delight in being thus violated, in bathing in the caress of -this public offering, with the enjoyment of plunging one's hands in -everything, and wasting one's time in useless talk. - -“Now,” she said, “I'm going for my braid. I don't wish to see anything -else.” - -However, as she crossed the cravat and glove departments, her heart once -more failed her. There was, under the diffuse light, a display made -up of bright and gay colours, which produced a ravishing effect The -counters, symmetrically arranged, seemed like so many flower-borders, -changing the hall into a French garden, in which smiled a tender gamut -of blossoms. Lying on the bare wood, in open boxes, and protruding from -the overflowing drawers, a quantity of silk hand-kerchiefs displayed -the bright scarlet of the geranium, the creamy white of the petunia, -the golden yellow of the chrysanthemum, the sky-blue of the verbena; and -higher up, on brass stems, twined another florescence, fichus carelessly -hung, ribbons unrolled, quite a brilliant cordon, which extended along, -climbed up the columns, and were multiplied indefinitely by the mirrors. -But what most attracted the crowd was a Swiss cottage in the glove -department, made entirely of gloves, a chef d'ouvre of Mignot's, which -had taken him two days to arrange. In the first place, the ground-floor -was composed of black gloves; then came straw-coloured, mignonette, -and red gloves, distributed in the decoration, bordering the windows, -forming the balconies, and taking the place of the tiles. - -“What do you desire, madame?” asked Mignot, on seeing Madame Marty -planted before the cottage. “Here are some Swedish kid gloves at one -franc fifteen sous, first quality.” - -He offered his wares with furious energy, calling the passing customers -from the end of his counter, dunning them with his politeness. As she -shook her head in refusal he confined: “Tyrolian gloves, one franc five -sous. Turin gloves for children, embroidered gloves in all colours.” - -“No, thanks; I don't want anything,” declared Madame Marty. - -But feeling that her voice was softening, he attacked her with greater -energy than ever, holding the embroidered gloves before her eyes; and -she could not resist, she bought a pair. Then, as Madame de Boves looked -at her with a smile, she blushed. - -“Don't you think me childish--eh? If I don't make haste and get my braid -and be off, I shall be done for.” - -Unfortunately, there was such a crush in the mercery department that she -could not get served. They had both been waiting for over ten minutes, -and were getting annoyed, when the sudden meeting with Madame Bourdelais -occupied their attention. The latter explained, with her quiet practical -air, that she had just brought the little ones to see the show. -Madeleine was ten, Edmond eight, and Lucien four years old; and they -were laughing with joy, it was a cheap treat long promised. - -“They are really too comical; I shall buy a red parasol,” said Madame -Marty all at once, stamping with impatience at being there doing -nothing. - -She choose one at fourteen francs and a-half. Madame Bourdelais, after -having watched the purchase with a look of blame, said to her amicably: -“You are very wrong to be in such a hurry. In a month's time you could -have had it for ten francs. They won't catch me like that.” - -And she developed quite a theory of careful housekeeping. As the shops -lowered their prices, it was simply a question of waiting. She did not -wish to be taken in by them, so she preferred to take advantage of their -real bargains. She even showed a feeling of malice in the struggle, -boasting that she had never left them a sou profit. - -“Come,” said she at last, “I've promised my little ones to show them the -pictures upstairs in the reading-room. Come up with us, you have plenty -of time.” - -And the braid was forgotten. Madame Marty yielded at once, whilst Madame -de Boves refused, preferring to take a turn on the ground-floor first. -Besides, they were sure to meet again upstairs. Madame Bourdelais was -looking for a staircase when she perceived one of the lifts; and she -pushed her children in to complete their pleasure. Madame Marty and -Valentine also entered the narrow cage, where they were closely packed; -but the mirrors, the velvet seats, and the polished brasswork took up -their attention so much that they arrived at the first storey without -having felt the gentle ascent of the machine. Another pleasure was -in store for them, in the first gallery. As they passed before the -refreshment bar, Madame Bourdelais did not fail to gorge her little -family with syrup. It was a square room with a large marble counter; -at the two ends there were silvered fountains from which flowed a small -stream of water; whilst rows of bottles stood on small shelves behind. -Three waiters were continually engaged wiping and filling the glasses. -To restrain the thirsty crowd, they had been obliged to establish a -system of turns, as at theatres and railway-stations, by erecting a -barrier covered with velvet. The crush was terrific. Some people, losing -all shame before these gratuitous treats, made themselves ill. - -“Well! where are they?” exclaimed Madame Bourdelais when she extricated -herself from the crowd, after having wiped the children's faces with her -handkerchief. - -But she caught sight of Madame Marty and Valentine at the further end -of another gallery, a long way off. Both buried beneath a heap of -petticoats, were still buying. They were conquered, the mother and -daughter were rapidly disappearing in the fever of spending which was -carrying them away. When she at last arrived in the reading-room Madame -Bourdelais installed Madeleine, Edmond, and Lucien before the large -table; then taking from one of the shelves some photographic albums she -brought them to them. The ceiling of the long apartment was covered -with gold; at the two extremities, monumental chimney-pieces faced each -other; some rather poor pictures, very richly framed, covered the walls; -and between the columns before each of the arched bays opening into the -various shops, were tall green plants in majolica vases. Quite a -silent crowd surrounded the table, which was littered with reviews and -newspapers, with here and there some ink-stands and boxes of stationery. -Ladies took off their gloves, and wrote their letters on the paper -stamped with the name of the house, which they crossed out with a dash -of the pen. A few men, lolling back in the armchairs, were reading the -newspapers. But a great many people sat there doing nothing: husbands -waiting for their wives, let loose in the various departments, discreet -young women looking out for their lovers, old relations left there as -in a cloak-room, to be taken away when time to leave. And this little -society, comfortably installed, quietly reposed itself there, glancing -through the open bays into the depths of the galleries and the halls, -from which a distant murmur ascended above the grating of the pens and -the rustling of the newspapers. - -“What! you here!” said Madame Bourdelais. “I didn't know you.” - -Near the children was a lady concealed behind the pages of a review. -It was Madame Guibal She seemed annoyed at the meeting; but quickly -recovering herself, related that she had come to sit down for a moment -to escape the crush. And as Madame Bourdelais asked her if she was -going to make any purchases, she replied with her languorous air, hiding -behind her eyelashes the egoistical greediness of her looks: - -“Oh! no. On the contrary, I have come to return some goods. Yes, some -door-curtains which I don't like. But there is such a crowd that I am -waiting to get near the department.” - -She went on talking, saying how convenient this system of returns -was; formerly she never bought anything, but now she sometimes allowed -herself to be tempted. In fact, she returned four articles out of five, -and was getting known at all the counters for her strange system -of buying, and her eternal discontent which made her bring back the -articles one by one, after having kept them several days. But, whilst -speaking, she did not take her eyes off the doors of the reading-room; -and she appeared greatly relieved when Madame Bourdelais rejoined her -children, to explain the photographs to them. Almost at the same -moment Monsieur de Boves and Paul de Vallagnosc came in. The count, -who affected to be showing the young man through the new buildings, -exchanged a rapid glance with Madame Guibal; and she then plunged into -her review again, as if she had not seen him. - -“Hullo, Paul!” suddenly exclaimed a voice behind these gentlemen. - -It was Mouret, on his way round to give a look at the various -departments. They shook hands, and he at once asked: “Has Madame de -Boves done us the honour of coming?” - -“Well, no,” replied the husband, “and she very much regrets it. She's -not very well. Oh! nothing dangerous!” But suddenly he pretended to -catch sight of Madame Guibal, and ran off, going up to her bareheaded, -whilst the others merely bowed to her from a distance. She also -pretended to be surprised. Paul smiled; he now understood the affair, -and he related to Mouret in a low voice how De Boves, whom he had met in -the Rue Richelieu, had tried to get away from him, and had finished by -dragging him into The Ladies' Paradise, under the pretext that he must -show him the new buildings. For the last year the lady had drawn from De -Boves all the money and pleasure she could, never writing to him, making -appointments with him in public places, churches, museums, and shops, to -arrange their affairs. - -“I fancy that at each meeting they change their hôtel,” murmured the -young man. “Not long ago, he was on a tour of inspection; he wrote to -his wife every day from Blois, Libourne, and Tarbes; and yet I feel -convinced I saw them going into a family boarding-house at Batignolles. -But look at him, isn't he splendid before her with his military -correctness! The old French gallantry, my dear fellow, the old French -gallantry!” - -“And your marriage?” asked Mouret Paul, without taking his eyes off the -count, replied that they were still waiting for the death of the aunt. -Then, with a triumphant air: “There, did you see him? He stooped down, -and slipped an address into her hand. She's now accepting with the most -virtuous air. She's a terrible woman, that delicate red-haired creature -with her careless ways. Well! there are some fine things going on in -your place!” - -“Oh!” said Mouret, smiling, “these ladies are not in my house, they are -at home here.” - -He then began to joke. Love, like the swallows, always brought good luck -to a house. No doubt he knew the girls who wandered about from counter -to counter, the ladies who accidentally met a friend in the shop; but -if they bought nothing, they filled up a place, and helped to crowd and -warm the shop. Still continuing his gossip, he carried his old comrade -off, and planted him on the threshold of the reading-room, opposite the -grand central gallery, the successive halls of which ran along at their -feet. Behind them, the reading-room still retained its quiet air, -only disturbed by the scratching of the pens and the rustling of the -newspapers. One old gentleman had gone to sleep over the _Moniteur_. -Monsieur de Boves was looking at the pictures, with the evident -intention of losing his future son-in-law in the crowd as soon as -possible. And, alone, amid this calmness, Madame Bourdelais was amusing -her children, talking very loud, as in a conquered place. - -“You see they are quite at home,” said Mouret, who pointed with a -broad gesture to the multitude of women with which the departments were -overflowing. - -Just at that moment Madame Desforges, after having nearly had her mantle -carried away in the crowd, at last came in and crossed the first hall. -Then, on reaching the principal gallery, she raised her eyes. It was -like a railway span, surrounded by the balustrades of the two storeys, -intersected by hanging staircases, crossed by flying bridges. The iron -staircases developed bold curves, multiplying the landings; the iron -bridges suspended in space, ran straight along, very high up; and all -this iron formed, beneath the white light of the windows, an excessively -light architecture, a complicated lace-work through which the daylight -penetrated, the modern realisation of a dreamed-of palace, of a -Babel-like heaping up of the storeys, enlarging the rooms, opening up -glimpses on to other floors and into other rooms without end. In fact, -iron reigned everywhere; the young architect had had the honesty and -courage not to disguise it under a coating of paint imitating stone or -wood. Down below, in order not to outshine the goods, the decoration was -sober, with large regular spaces in neutral tints; then as the metallic -work ascended, the capitals of the columns became richer, the rivets -formed ornaments, the shoulder-pieces and corbels were loaded with -sculptured work; up above, there was a mass of painting, green and red, -amidst a prodigality of gold, floods of gold, heaps of gold, even to -the glazed-work, the glass of which was enamelled and inlaid with gold. -Under the covered galleries, the bare brick-work of the arches was also -decorated in bright colours. Mosaics and earthenware also formed part -of the decoration, enlivening the friezes, lighting up with their fresh -notes the severity of the whole; whilst the stairs, with their red -velvet covered hand-rails, were edged with a band of curved polished -iron, which shone like the steel of a piece of armour. - -Although she had already seen the new establishment - -Madame Desforges stood still, struck by the ardent life which was this -day animating the immense nave. Below, around her, continued the eddying -of the crowd, of which the double current of those entering and those -going out made itself felt as far as the silk department; a crowd still -very mixed in its elements, though the afternoon was bringing a greater -number of ladies amongst the shopkeepers and house-wives; a great many -women in mourning, with their flowing veils, and the inevitable wet -nurses straying about, protecting their babies with their outstretched -arms. And this sea of faces, these many-coloured hats, these bare heads, -both dark and light, rolled from one end of the gallery to the other, -confused and discoloured amidst the loud glare of the stuffs. Madame -Desforges could see nothing but large price tickets bearing enormous -figures everywhere, their white patches standing out on the bright -printed cottons, the shining silks, and the sombre woollens. Piles of -ribbons curtailed the heads, a wall of flannel threw out a promontory; -on all sides the mirrors carried the departments back into infinite -space, reflecting the displays with portions of the public, faces -reversed, and halves of shoulders and arms; whilst to the right and -to the left the lateral galleries opened up other vistas, the snowy -background of the linen department, the speckled depth of the hosiery -one, distant views illuminated by the rays of light from some glazed -bay, and in which the crowd appeared nothing but a mass of human -dust. Then, when Madame Desforges raised her eyes, she saw, along the -staircases, on the flying bridges, around the balustrade of each storey, -a continual humming ascent, an entire population in the air, travelling -in the cuttings of the enormous ironwork construction, casting black -shadows on the diffused light of the enamelled windows. Large gilded -lustres hung from the ceiling; a decoration of rugs, embroidered silks, -stuffs worked with gold, hung down, draping the balustrade with gorgeous -banners; and, from one end to the other, there were clouds of lace, -palpitations of muslin, trophies of silks, apotheoses of half-dressed -dummies; and right at the top, above all this confusion, the bedding -department, suspended as it were, displayed little iron bedsteads with -their mattresses, hung with their white curtains, a sort of school -dormitory sleeping amidst the stamping of the customers, rarer and rarer -as the departments ascended. - -“Does madame require a cheap pair of garters?” asked a salesman of -Madame Desforges, seeing her standing still “All silk, twenty-nine -sous.” - -She did not deign to answer. Things were being offered around her more -feverishly than ever. She wanted, however, to find out where she was. -Albert Lhomme's pay-desk was on her left; he knew her by sight and -ventured to give her an amiable smile, not in the least hurry in the -midst of the heaps of bills by which he was besieged; whilst, behind -him, Joseph, struggling with the string-box, could not pack up the -articles fast enough. She then saw where she was; the silk department -must be in front of her. But it took her ten minutes to get there, -the crowd was becoming so immense. Up in the air, at the end of their -invisible strings, the red air-balls had become more numerous than ever; -they now formed clouds of purple, gently blowing towards the doors, -continuing to scatter themselves over Paris; and she had to bow her head -beneath the flight of air-balls, when very young children held them, the -string rolled round their little fingers. - -“What! you have ventured here, madame?” exclaimed Bouthemont gaily, as -soon as he caught sight of Madame Desforges. - -The manager of the silk department, introduced to her by Mouret himself, -was now in the habit of sometimes calling on her at her five o'clock -tea. She thought him common, but very amiable, of a fine sanguine -temper, which surprised and amused her. Besides, about two days before -he had openly related to her the affair between Mouret and Clara, -without any calculation, out of stupidity, like a fellow who loves a -joke; and, stung with jealousy, concealing her wounded feelings beneath -an appearance of disdain, she had come to try and discover her rival, a -young lady in the dress department he had merely said, refusing to name -her. - -“Do you require anything to-day?” he asked her. - -“Of course, or else I should not have come. Have you any silk for -morning gowns?” - -She hoped to obtain the name of the young lady from him, for she was -full of a desire to see her. He immediately called Favier; and resumed -talking to her, whilst waiting for the salesman, who was just finishing -serving a customer who happened to be “the pretty lady,” that beautiful -blonde of whom the whole department occasionally spoke, without knowing -anything of her life or even her name. This time the pretty lady was in -deep mourning. Ah, who had she lost--her husband or her father? Not her -father, or she would have appeared more melancholy. What had they been -saying? She was not a gay woman then; she had a real husband. Unless, -however, she should be in mourning for her mother. For a few minutes, -notwithstanding the press of business, the department exchanged these -various speculations. - -“Make haste! it's intolerable!” cried Hutin to Favier, who had just -returned from showing his customer to the pay-desk. “When that lady is -here you never seem to finish. She doesn't care a fig for you!” - -“She cares a deuced sight more for me than I do for her!” replied the -vexed salesman. - -But Hutin threatened to report him to the directors if he did not show -more respect for the customers. He was getting terrible, of a morose -severity, since the department had conspired together to get him into -Robineau's place. He even showed himself so intolerable, after the -promises of good-fellowship, with which he had formerly warmed his -colleagues, that the latter were now secretly supporting Favier against -him. - -“Now, then, no back answers,” replied Hutin sharply. “Monsieur -Bouthemont wishes you to show some light designs in silks.” - -In the middle of the department, an exhibition of summer silks lighted -up the hall with an aurora-like brilliancy, like the rising of a star, -in the most delicate tints possible: pale rose, tender yellow, limpid -blue, the entire gamut of Iris. There were silks of a cloudy fineness, -surahs lighter than the down falling from the trees, satined pekins soft -and supple as a Chinese virgin's skin. There were, moreover, Japanese -pongees, Indian tussores and corahs, without counting the light French -silks, the thousand stripes, the small checks, the flowered patterns, -all the most fanciful designs, which made one think of ladies in -furbelows, walking about, in the sweet May mornings, under the immense -trees of some park. - -“I'll take this, the Louis XIV. with figured roses,” said Madame -Desforges at last. - -And whilst Favier was measuring it, she made a last attempt with -Bouthemont, who had remained near her. - -“I'm going up to the ready-made department to see if there are any -travelling cloaks. Is she fair, the young lady you were talking about?” - -The manager, who felt rather anxious on finding her so persistent, -merely smiled. But, just at that moment, Denise went by. She had just -passed on to Liénard, who had charge of the merinoes, Madame Boutarel, -that provincial lady who came up to Paris twice a year, to scatter all -over The Ladies' Paradise the money she scraped together out of her -housekeeping. And as Favier was about to take up Madame Desforges's -silk, Hutin, thinking to annoy him, interfered. - -“It's quite unnecessary, Mademoiselle Denise will have the kindness to -conduct this lady.” - -Denise, quite confused, at once took charge of the parcel and the -debit-note. She could never meet this young man face to face without -experiencing a feeling of shame, as if he reminded her of a former -fault; and yet she had only sinned in her dreams. - -“But, tell me,” said Madame Desforges, in a low tone, to Bouthemont, -“isn't it this awkward girl? He has taken her back, then? But it is she, -the heroine of the adventure!” - -“Perhaps,” replied the head of department, still smiling, and fully -decided not to tell the truth. - -Madame Desforges then slowly ascended the staircase, preceded by Denise; -but she had to stop every two or three steps to avoid being carried away -by the descending crowd. In the living vibration of the whole -building, the iron supports seemed to stagger beneath the weight, as if -continually trembling from the breath of the crowd On each stair was -a dummy, strongly fixed, displaying some garment: a costume, cloak, -or dressing-gown; and it was like a double row of soldiers for some -triumphal march-past, with the little wooden arm like the handle of a -poniard, stuck into the red swan-skin, which gave a bloody appearance to -the stump of a neck crowning the whole. - -Madame Desforges was at last reaching the first storey, when a still -greater surging of the crowd forced her to stop once more. She had now, -beneath her, the departments on the ground-floor, with the press of -customers she had just passed through. It was a new spectacle, a sea -of heads fore-shortened, concealing the bodices, swarming with a busy -agitation. The white price tickets now appeared but so many thin lines, -the promontory of flannels cut through the gallery like a narrow -wall; whilst the carpets and the embroidered silks which decked the -balustrades hung at her feet like processional banners suspended from -the gallery of a church. In the distance, she could perceive the angles -of the lateral galleries, as from the top of a steeple one perceives -the corners of the neighbouring streets, with the black spots of the -passers-by moving about. But what surprised her above all, in the -fatigue of her eyes blinded by the brilliant pell mell of colours, was, -when she lowered her lids, to feel the crowd more than its dull noise -like the rising tide, and the human warmth that it exhaled. A fine dust -rose from the floor, laden with the odour of woman, the odour of her -linen and her bust, of her skirts and her hair, an invading, penetrating -odour, which seemed to be the incense of this temple raised for the -worship of her body. - -Meanwhile Mouret, still standing up before the reading-room with De -Vallagnosc, was inhaling this odour, intoxicating himself with it, and -repeating: “They are quite at home. I know some who spend the whole day -here, eating cakes and writing their letters. There's only one thing -more to do, and that is, to find them beds.” - -This joke made Paul smile, he who, in the _ennui_ of his pessimism, -continued to think the crowd stupid in thus running after a lot of -gew-gaws. Whenever he came to give his old comrade a look up, he went -away almost vexed to see him so full of life amidst his people of -coquettes. Would not one of them, with shallow brain and empty heart, -teach him one day the stupidity and uselessness of existence? That very -day Octave seemed to lose some of his admirable equilibrium; he who -generally inspired his customers with a fever, with the tranquil grace -of an operator, was as though seized by the passion with which the -establishment was gradually burning. Since he had caught sight of Denise -and Madame Desforges coming up the grand staircase, he had been talking -louder, gesticulating against his will; and, whilst affecting not to -turn his face towards them, he became more and more animated as he felt -them drawing nearer. His face got redder, his eyes had a little of that -rapture with which the eyes of his customers ultimately vacillated. - -“You must be robbed fearfully,” murmured De Vallagnosc, who thought the -crowd looked very criminal. - -Mouret threw his arms out “My dear fellow, it's beyond all imagination.” - -And, nervously, delighted at having something to talk about, he gave a -number of details, related cases, and classified the subjects. In the -first place, there were the professional thieves; these women did the -least harm of all, for the police knew every one of them. Then came the -kleptomaniacs, who stole from a perverse desire, a new sort of nervous -affection which a mad doctor had classed, proving the results of the -temptation provided by the big shops. In the last place must be counted -the women in an interesting condition, whose robberies were of a special -order. For instance, at the house of one of them, the superintendent of -police had found two hundred and forty-eight pairs of pink gloves stolen -from every shop in Paris. - -“That's what makes the women have such funny eyes here, then,” murmured -De Vallagnosc; “I've been watching them with their greedy, shameful -looks, like mad creatures. A fine school for honesty!” - -“Hang it!” replied Mouret, “though we make them quite at home, we can't -let them take away the goods under their mantles. And sometimes they are -very respectable people. Last week we had the sister of a chemist, and -the wife of a councillor. We try and settle these matters.” - -He stopped to point out Jouve, the inspector, who was just then looking -sharp after a woman in the family way, down below at the ribbon counter. -This woman, whose enormous belly suffered a great deal from the pushing -of the crowd, was accompanied by a friend, whose mission appeared to be -to defend her against the heavy shocks, and each time she stopped in a -department, Jouve did not take his eyes off her, whilst her friend near -her ransacked the card-board boxes at her ease. - -“Oh! he'll catch her!” resumed Mouret; “he knows all their tricks.” - -But his voice trembled, he laughed in an awkward manner. Denise and -Henriette, whom he had ceased to watch, were at last passing behind him, -after having had a great deal of trouble to get out of the crowd. He -turned round suddenly, and bowed to his customer with the discreet air -of a friend who does not wish to compromise a woman by stopping her in -the middle of a crowd of people. But the latter, on the alert, had at -once perceived the look with which he had first enveloped Denise. It -must be this girl, this was the rival she had had the curiosity to come -and see. - -In the ready-made department, the young ladies were losing their heads. -Two of them had fallen ill, and Madame Frédéric, the second-hand, had -quietly given notice the previous day, and gone to the cashier's office -to take her money, leaving The Ladies' Paradise all in a minute, as -The Ladies' Paradise itself discharged its employees. Ever since the -morning, in spite of the feverish rush of business, every one had -been talking of this adventure. Clara, maintained in the department by -Mouret's caprice, thought it grand. Marguerite related how exasperated -Bourdoncle was; whilst Madame Aurélie, greatly vexed, declared that -Madame Frédéric ought at least to have informed her, for such hypocrisy -had never before been heard of. - -Although the latter had never confided in any one, she was suspected of -having given up drapery business to marry the proprietor of some of the -baths in the neighbourhood of the Halles. - -“It's a travelling cloak that madame desires, I believe?” asked Denise -of Madame Desforges, after having offered her a chair. - -“Yes,” replied the latter, curtly, decided on being rude. - -The new decorations of the department were of a rich severity: high -carved oak cupboards, mirrors filling the whole space of the panels, -and a red Wilton carpet, which stifled the continued movement of the -customers. Whilst Denise was gone for the cloaks, Madame Desforges, -who was looking round, perceived herself in a glass; and she continued -contemplating herself. She must be getting old to be cast aside for -the first-comer. The glass reflected the entire department with its -commotion, but she only beheld her own pale face; she did not hear -Clara behind her relating to Marguerite instances of Madame Frederic's -mysterious ways, the manner in which she went out of her way night and -morning to go through the Passage Choiseul, in order to make believe -that she perhaps lived over the water. - -“Here are our latest designs,” said Denise. “We have them in several -colours.” - -She laid out four or five cloaks. Madame Desforges looked at them with -a scornful air, and became harsher at each fresh one she examined. Why -those frillings which made the garment look so scanty? and the other -one, square across the shoulders, one would have thought it had been -cut out with a hatchet. Though it was for travelling she could not dress -like a sentry-box. - -“Show me something else, mademoiselle.” - -Denise unfolded and folded the garments without the slightest sign of -ill temper. And it was just this calm, serene patience which exasperated -Madame Desforges still further. Her looks continually returned to the -glass in front of her. Now that she saw herself there, close to Denise, -she made a comparison. Was it possible that he should prefer this -insignificant creature to herself? She now remembered that this was the -girl she had formerly seen making her début with such a silly figure, -awkward as a peasant girl just arrived from her village. No doubt she -looked better now, stiff and correct in her silk dress. But how puny, -how common-place! - -“I will show you some other models, madame,” said Denise, quietly. - -When she returned, the scene began again. Then it was the cloth that was -heavy and no good whatever. Madame Desforges turned round, raised her -voice, endeavouring to attract Madame Aurélie's attention, in the hope -of getting the young girl a scolding. But Denise, since her return, had -gradually conquered the department, and now felt quite at home in -it; the first-hand had even recognised in her some rare and valuable -qualities as a saleswoman--an obstinate sweetness, a smiling conviction. -Therefore Madame Aurélie simply shrugged her shoulders, taking care not -to interfere. - -“Would you kindly tell me the kind of garment you require, madame?” - asked Denise, once more, with her polite persistence, which nothing -could discourage. - -“But you've got nothing!” exclaimed Madame Desforges. - -She stopped, surprised to feel a hand laid on her shoulder. It was -Madame Marty, carried right through the establishment by her fever -for spending. Her purchases had increased to such an extent, since the -cravats, the embroidered gloves, and the red parasol, that the last -salesman had just decided to place the whole on a chair, for it would -have broken his arm; and he walked in front of her, drawing the chair -along, on which was heaped up a pile of petticoats, napkins, curtains, a -lamp, and three straw hats. - -“Ah!” said she, “you are buying a travelling cloak.” - -“Oh! dear, no,” replied Madame Desforges; “they are frightful.” - -But Madame Marty had just noticed a striped cloak which she rather -liked. Her daughter Valentine was already examining it. So Denise called -Marguerite to clear the article out of the department, it being a model -of the previous year, and the latter, at a glance from her comrade, -presented it as an exceptional bargain. When she had sworn that they had -lowered the price twice, that from a hundred and fifty francs, they had -reduced it to a hundred and thirty, and that it was now at a hundred and -ten, Madame Marty could not withstand the temptation of its cheapness. -She bought it, and the salesman who accompanied her left the chair and -the parcel, with the debit-notes attached to the goods. - -Meanwhile, behind the ladies' backs, and amidst the jostlings of the -sale, the gossip of the department about Madame Frédéric still went on. - -“Really! she had some one?” asked a little saleswoman, fresh in the -department. - -“The bath-man of course!” replied Clara. “Mustn't trust those sly, quiet -widows.” - -Then while Marguerite was debiting, Madam Marty turned her head and -desired Clara by a slight movement of the eyebrows, she whispered to -Madame Desforges: “Monsieur Mouret's caprice, you know!” - -The other, surprised, looked at Clara; then, turning her eyes towards -Denise, replied: “But it isn't the tall one; the little one!” - -And as Madame Marty could not be sure which, Madame Desforges resumed -aloud, with the scorn of a lady for chambermaids: “Perhaps the tall one -and the little one; all those who like!” - -Denise had heard everything. She turned pale, and raised her big, pure -eyes on this lady who was thus wounding her, and whom she did not know. -No doubt it was the lady of whom they had spoken to her, the lady whom -the governor saw outside. In the look that was exchanged between them, -Denise displayed such a melancholy dignity, such a frank innocence, that -Henriette felt quite awkward. - -“As you have nothing presentable to show me here, conduct me to the -dress and costume department,” said she, abruptly. - -“I'll go with you as well,” exclaimed Madame Marty, “I wanted to see a -costume for Valentine.” - -Marguerite took the chair by its back, and dragged it along on its hind -feet, that were getting worn by this species of cartage. Denise only -carried a few yards of silk, bought by Madame Desforges. It was quite -a journey, now that the robes and costumes were on the second floor, at -the other end of the establishment. - -And the long journey commenced along the crowded galleries. Marguerite -walked in front, drawing the chair along, like a little carriage, -slowly opening herself a passage. As soon as she reached the under-linen -department, Madame Desforges began to complain: wasn't it ridiculous, a -shop where one was obliged to walk a couple of leagues to find the least -thing! Madame Marty also said she was tired to death, yet she did not -the less enjoy this fatigue, this slow exhaustion of her strength, -amidst the inexhaustible treasures displayed on every side. Mouret's -idea, full of genius, seized upon her, stopping her at each department. -She made a first halt before the trousseaux, tempted by some chemises -that Pauline sold her; and Marguerite found herself relieved from the -burden of the chair, which Pauline had to take, with the debit-notes. -Madame Desforges could have gone on her road, and thus have liberated -Denise quicker, but she seemed happy to feel her behind her, motionless -and patient, whilst she was lingering there, advising her friend. In -the baby-linen department the ladies went into ecstasies, without buying -anything. Then Madame Marty's weakness commenced anew; she succumbed -successively before a black silk corset, a pair of fur cuffs, sold at -a reduction on account of the lateness of the season, and some Russian -lace much in vogue at that time for trimming table-linen. All these -things were heaped up on the chair, the parcels still increased, making -the chair creak; and the salesmen who succeeded each other, found it -more and more difficult to drag along as the load became heavier. - -“This way, madame,” said Denise without a murmur, after each halt. - -“But it's absurd!” exclaimed Madame Desforges. “We shall never get -there. Why not have put the dresses and costumes near the ready-made -department? It is a jumble!” - -Madame Marty, whose eyes were sparkling, intoxicated by this succession -of riches dancing before her, repeated in a half whisper: - -“Oh, dear! What will my husband say? You are right, there is no order in -this place. You lose yourself, and commit all sorts of follies.” - -On the great central landing, the chair, could barely pass. Mouret had -just blocked the space with a lot of fancy goods, drinking-cups mounted -on gilded zinc, trashy dressing-cases and liqueur stands, being of -opinion that the crowd was not sufficiently great, and that circulation -was too easy. He had authorised one of his shopmen to exhibit there on -a small table Chinese and Japanese curiosities, knick-knacks at a low -price, which the customers eagerly snatched up. It was an unexpected -success, and he already thought of extending this business. Whilst -two messengers carried the chair up to the second storey, Madame Marty -bought six ivory studs, some silk mice, and an enamelled match-box. - -On the second floor the journey was continued. Denise, who had been -showing customers about in this way since the morning, was dropping with -fatigue; but she still continued correct, amiable, and polite. She had -to wait for the ladies again in the furnishing materials department, -where a ravishing cretonne had tempted Madame Marty. Then, in the -furniture department, it was a work-table that took her fancy. Her -hands trembled, she jokingly entreated Madame Desforges to prevent her -spending any more, when a meeting with Madame Guibal furnished her with -an excuse. It was in the carpet department, where the latter had gone to -return a lot of Oriental door-curtains bought by her five days before. -And she was standing, talking to the salesman, a brawny fellow, who, -with his sinewy arms handled from morning to night loads heavy enough to -kill a bullock. Naturally he was quite astounded at this “return,” - which deprived him of his commission. He did his best to embarrass his -customer, suspecting some queer adventure, no doubt a ball given with -these curtains, bought at The Ladies' Paradise, and then returned, to -avoid hiring at an upholsterer's: he knew this was frequently done by -the needy portion of society. In short, she must have some reason for -returning them; if she did not like the designs or the colours, he -would show her others, he had a most complete assortment. To all these -insinuations Madame Guibal replied in the quietest, most unconcerned -manner possible, with a queenly assurance that the curtains did not suit -her, without deigning to add any explanation. She refused to look at any -others, and he was obliged to give way, for the salesmen had orders to -take back the goods, even if they saw they had been used. - -As the three ladies went off together, and Madame Marty referred with -remorse to the work-table for which she had no earthly need, Madame -Guibal said in her calm voice: “Well! you can return it. You saw it was -quite easy. Let them send it home. You can put it in your drawing-room, -keep it for a time, then if you don't like it, return it!” - -“Ah! that's a good idea!” exclaimed Madame Marty. “If my husband makes -too much fuss, I'll send everything back.” This was for her the supreme -excuse, she calculated no longer, but went on buying, with the secret -wish to keep everything, for she was not a woman to give anything back. - -At last they arrived in the dress and costume department. But as Denise -was about to deliver to another young lady the silk bought by Madame -Desforges, the latter seemed to change her mind, and declared that she -would decidedly take one of the travelling cloaks, the light grey one -with the hood; and Denise had to wait complacently to bring her back -to the ready-made department. The young girl felt herself being treated -like a servant by this imperious, whimsical customer; but she had -sworn to herself to do her duty, and retained her calm attitude, -notwithstanding the rising of her heart and the shock to her pride. -Madame Desforges bought nothing in the dress and costume department. - -“Oh! mamma,” said Valentine, “if that little costume should fit me!” - -In a low tone, Madame Guibal was explaining her tactics to Madame Marty. -When she saw a dress she liked in a shop, she had it sent home, took -the pattern of it, and then sent it back. And Madame Marty bought -the costume for her daughter remarking: “A good idea! You are very -practical, my dear madame.” - -They had been obliged to abandon the chair. It had been left in -distress, in the furniture department, with the work-table. The weight -was too much, the hind legs threatened to break off; and it was arranged -that all the purchases should be centralised at one pay-desk, and -from there sent down to the delivery department. The ladies, still -accompanied by Denise, then began wandering all about the establishment, -making a second appearance in nearly every department. They seemed to -take up all the space on the stairs and in the galleries. Every -moment some fresh meeting brought them to a standstill. Thus, near the -reading-room, they once more came across Madame Bourdelais and her three -children. The youngsters were loaded with parcels: Madeline had a dress -for herself, Edmond was carrying a collection of little shoes, whilst -the youngest, Lucien, was wearing a new cap. - -“You as well!” said Madame Desforges, laughingly, to her old -school-fellow. - -“Pray, don't speak of it!” cried out Madame Bourdelais. “I'm furious. -They get hold of us by the little ones now! You know what a little I -spend on myself! But how can you expect me to resist the voices of these -young children, who want everything? I had come just to show them round, -and here am I plundering the whole establishment!” - -Mouret, who happened to be there still, with De Vallagnosc and Monsieur -de Boves, was listening to her with a smile. She observed it, and gaily -complained, with a certain amount of real irritation, of these traps -laid for a mother's tenderness; the idea that she had just yielded to -the fevers of advertising raised her indignation, and he, still smiling, -bowed, fully enjoying this triumph. Monsieur de Boves had manoeuvred so -as to get near Madame Guibal, whom he ultimately followed, trying for -the second time to lose De Vallagnosc; but the latter, tired of the -crush, hastened to rejoin him. Denise was again brought to a standstill, -obliged to wait for the ladies. She turned her back, and Mouret himself -affected not to see her. Madame Desforges, with the delicate scent of a -jealous woman, had no further doubt. Whilst he was complimenting her and -walking beside her, like a gallant host, she was deep in thought, asking -herself how she could convince him of his treason. - -Meanwhile Monsieur de Boves and De Vallagnosc, who were on in front with -Madame Guibal, had reached the lace department, a luxurious room, near -the ready-made department, surrounded with stocks of carved oak drawers, -which were constantly being opened and shut. Around the columns, covered -with red velvet, were spirals of white lace; and from one end of the -department to the other, hung lengths of Maltese; whilst on the counters -there were quantities of large cards, wound round with Valenciennes, -Malines, and hand-made point At the further end two ladies were seated -before a mauve silk skirt, on which Deloche was placing pieces of -Chantilly, the ladies looking on silently, without making up their -minds. - -“Hallo!” said De Vallagnosc, quite surprised, “you said Madame de Boves -was unwell. But there she is standing over there near that counter, with -Mademoiselle Blanche.” - -The count could not help starting back, and casting a side glance at -Madame Guibal. - -“Dear me! so she is,” said he. - -It was very warm in this room. The customers, half stifled, had pale -faces with flaming eyes. It seemed as if all the seductions of the shop -had converged into this supreme temptation, that it was the secluded -alcove where the customers were doomed to fall, the corner of -perdition where the strongest must succumb. Hands were plunged into the -overflowing heaps, retaining an intoxicating trembling from the contact. - -“I fancy those ladies are ruining you,” resumed De Vallagnosc, amused at -the meeting. - -Monsieur de Boves assumed the look of a husband perfectly sure of his -wife's discretion, from the simple fact that he did not give her a sou -to spend. The latter, after having wandered through all the departments -with her daughter, without buying anything, had just stranded in the -lace department in a rage of unsated desire. Half dead with fatigue, she -was leaning up against the counter. She dived about in a heap of lace, -her hands became soft, a warmth penetrated as far as her shoulders. Then -suddenly, just as her daughter turned her head and the salesman went -away, she was thinking of slipping a piece of point d'Alençon under her -mantle. But she shuddered, and dropped it, on hearing De Vallagnosc's -voice saying gaily: - -“Ah! we've caught you, madame.” - -For several seconds she stood there speechless and pale. Then she -explained that, feeling much better, she thought she would take a -stroll. And on noticing that her husband was with Madame Guibal, she -quite recovered herself, and looked at them with such a dignified air -that the other lady felt obliged to say: - -“I was with Madame Desforges when these gentlemen met us.” - -The other ladies came up just at that moment, accompanied by Mouret, -who again detained them to point out Jouve the inspector, who was still -following the woman in the family way and her lady friend. It was very -curious, they could not form any idea of the number of thieves that were -arrested in the lace department. Madame de Boves, who was listening, -fancied herself between two gendarmes, with her forty-six years, her -luxury, and her husband's fine position; but yet she felt no remorse, -thinking she ought to have slipped the lace up her sleeve. Jouve, -however, had just decided to lay hold of the woman in the family way, -despairing of catching her in the act, but fully suspecting her of -having filled her pockets, with a sleight of hand which had escaped him. -But when he had taken her aside and searched her, he was wild to find -nothing on her--not a cravat, not a button. Her friend had disappeared. -All at once he understood: the woman in the family way was only there as -a blind; it was the friend who did the trick. - -This affair amused the ladies. Mouret, rather vexed, merely said: “Old -Jouve has been floored this time. He'll have his revenge.” - -“Oh!” replied De Vallognosc, “I don't think he's equal to it. Besides, -why do you display such a quantity of goods? It serves you right, if you -are robbed. You ought not to tempt these poor, defenceless women so.” - -This was the last word, which sounded like the sharp note of the day, -in the growing fever of the establishment. The ladies then separated, -crossing the crowded departments for the last time. It was four o'clock, -the rays of the setting sun were darting through the large windows in -the front, lighting up crossways the glazed roofs of the halls, and in -this red, fiery light sprung up, like a golden vapour, the thick dust -raised by the circulation of the crowd. A broad ray ran along the grand -central gallery, showing up on a flaming ground the staircases, the -flying bridges, all the network of suspended iron. The mosaics and the -terra-cotta of the friezes sparkled, the green andred paint were lighted -up by the fire of the masses of gold scattered everywhere. It was like a -red-hot furnace, in which the displays were now burning, the palaces of -gloves and cravats, the clusters of ribbons and lace, the lofty piles of -linen and calico, the diapered parterres in which flourished the light -silks and foulards. The exhibition of parasols, with their shield-like -roundness, threw out a sort of metallic reflection. In the distance were -a lot of lost counters, sparkling, swarming with a moving crowd, ablaze -with sunshine. - -And at this last moment, amidst this over-warmed air, the women reigned -supreme. They had taken the whole place by storm, camping there as in -a conquered country, like an invading horde installed amongst the -overhauling of the goods. The salesmen, deafened, knocked up, were -now nothing but their slaves, of whom they disposed with a sovereign's -tyranny. Fat women elbowed their way through the crowd. The thinnest -ones took up a lot of space, and became quite arrogant. They were all -there, with heads high and abrupt gestures, quite at home, without the -slightest politeness one for the other, using the house as much as they -could, even carrying away the dust from the walls. Madame Bourdelais, -desirous of making up for her expenditure, had again taken her children -to the refreshment bar; the crowd was now pushing about there in a -furious way, even the mothers were gorging themselves with Malaga; they -had drunk since the opening eighty quarts of syrup and seventy bottles -of wine. After having bought her travelling cloak, Madame Desforges -had managed to secure some pictures at the pay-desk; and she went away -scheming to get Denise into her house, where she could humiliate -her before Mouret himself, so as to see their faces and arrive at a -conclusion. Whilst Monsieur de Boves succeeded in losing himself in the -crowd and disappearing with Madame Guibal, Madame de Boves, followed by -Blanche and De Vallagnosc, had had the fancy to ask for a red air-ball, -although she had bought nothing. It was always something, she would not -go away empty-handed, she would make a friend of her doorkeeper's little -girl with it. At the distributing counter they were just commencing the -fortieth thousand: forty thousand red air-balls which had taken flight -in the warm air of the shop, quite a cloud of red air-balls which were -now floating from one end of Paris to the other, bearing upwards to the -sky the name of The Ladies' Paradise! - -Five o'clock struck. Of all the ladies, Madame Marty and her daughter -were the only ones to remain, in the final crisis of the sale. She could -not tear herself away, although ready to drop with fatigue, retained by -an attraction so strong that she was continually retracing her steps, -though wanting nothing, wandering about the departments out of a -curiosity that knew no bounds. It was the moment in which the crowd, -goaded on by the advertisements, completely lost itself; the sixty -thousand francs paid to the newspapers, the ten thousand bills posted on -the walls, the two hundred thousand catalogues distributed all over the -world, after having emptied their purses, left in the women's minds the -shock of their intoxication; and the customers still remained, shaken by -Mouret's other inventions, the reduction of prices, the “returns,” the -endless gallantries. Madame Marty lingered before the various stalls, -amidst the hoarse cries of the salesmen, the chinking of the gold at the -pay-desks, and the rolling of the parcels down into the basement; she -again traversed the ground floor, the linen, the silk, the glove, -and the woollen departments; then she went upstairs again, abandoning -herself to the metallic vibrations of the suspended staircases and the -flying-bridges, returning to the ready-made, the under-linen, and -the lace departments; she even ascended to the second floor, into the -heights of the bedding and furniture department; and everywhere the -employees, Hutin and Favier, Mignot and Liénard, Deloche, Pauline and -Denise, nearly dead with fatigue, were making a last effort, snatching -victories from the expiring fever of the customers. This fever had -gradually increased since the morning, like the intoxication arising -from the tumbling of the stuffs. The crowd shone forth under the fiery -glare of the five o'clock sun. Madame Marty's face was now animated and -nervous, like that of an infant after drinking pure wine. Arrived with -clear eyes and fresh skin from the cold of the street, she had slowly -burnt her sight and complexion, at the spectacle of this luxury, of -these violent colours, the continued gallop of which irritated her -passion. When she at last went away, after saying she would pay at home, -terrified by the amount of her bill, her features were drawn up, her -eyes were like those of a sick person. She was obliged to fight her way -through the crowd at the door, where the people were almost killing each -other, amidst the struggle for the bargains. Then, when she got into -the street, and found her daughter, whom she had lost for a moment, the -fresh air made her shiver, she stood there frightened in the disorder of -this neurosis of the immense establishments. - -In the evening, as Denise was returning from dinner, a messenger called -her: “You are wanted at the director's office, mademoiselle.” - -She had forgotten the order Mouret had given her in the morning, to go -to his office after the sale. He was standing waiting for her. On going -in she did not close the door, which remained, wide open. - -“We are very pleased with you, mademoiselle,” said he, “and we have -thought of proving our satisfaction. You know in what a shameful manner -Madame Frédéric has left us. From to-morrow you will take her place as -second-hand.” - -Denise listened to him immovable with surprise. She murmured in a -trembling voice: “But, sir, there are saleswomen in the department who -are much my seniors.” - -“What does that matter?” resumed he. “You are the most capable, the most -trustworthy. I choose you; it's quite natural. Are you not satisfied?” - -She blushed, feeling a delicious happiness and embarrassment, in -which her first fright vanished. Why had she at once thought of the -suppositions with which this unhoped for favour would be received? And -she stood filled with her confusion, notwithstanding her sudden burst of -gratitude. He was looking at her with a smile, in her simple silk dress, -without a single piece of jewellery, nothing but the luxury of her -royal, blonde head of hair. She had become more refined, her skin was -whiter, her manner delicate and grave. Her former puny insignificance -was developing into a charm of a penetrating discretion. - -“You are very kind, sir,” she stammered. “I don't know how to tell -you----” - -But she was cut short by the appearance of Lhomme in the doorway. In his -hand he was holding a large leather bag, and with his mutilated arm he -was pressing an enormous notecase to his chest; whilst, behind him, his -son Albert was carrying a load of bags, which were weighing him down. - -“Five hundred and eighty-seven thousand two hundred and ten francs -thirty centimes!” cried out the cashier, whose flabby, used-up face -seemed to be lighted up with a ray of sunshine, in the reflection of -such a sum. - -It was the day's receipts, the highest The Ladies' Paradise had ever -done. In the distance, in the depths of the shop that Lhomme had just -passed through slowly, with the heavy gait of an overloaded beast of -burden, one could hear the uproar, the ripple of surprise and joy, left -by this colossal sum which passed. - -“But it's superb!” said Mouret, enchanted. “My good Lhomme, put it down -there, and take a rest, for you look quite done up. I'll have this money -taken to the central cashier's office. Yes, yes, put it all on my table, -I want to see the heap.” - -He was full of a childish gaiety. The cashier and his son laid down -their burdens. The leather bag gave out a clear, golden ring, two of the -other bags bursting let out a stream of silver and copper, whilst from -the note-case peeped forth corners of bank notes. One end of the large -table was entirely covered; it was like the tumbling of a fortune picked -up in ten hours. - -When Lhomme and Albert had retired, mopping their faces, Mouret remained -for a moment motionless, lost, his eyes fixed on the money. Then, -raising his head, he perceived Denise, who had drawn back. He began to -smile again, forced her to come forward, and finished by saying he -would give her all she could take in her hand; and there was a sort of -love-bargain beneath his playfulness. - -“Look! out of the bag. I bet it would be less than a thousand francs, -your hand is so small!” - -But she drew back again. He loved her, then? Suddenly she understood, -she felt the growing flame of desire with which he had enveloped her -since, her return to the shop. What overcame her more than anything else -was to feel her heart beating violently. Why did he wound her with all -this money, when she was overflowing with gratitude, and he could have -done anything with her by a friendly word? He was coming closer to her, -continuing to joke, when, to his great annoyance, Bourdoncle appeared, -under the pretence of informing him of the number of entries--the -enormous number of seventy thousand customers had entered The Ladies' -Paradise that day. And she hastened away, after having again thanked -him. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -The first Sunday in August every one was busy with the stock-taking, -which had to be finished by the evening. Early in the morning all the -employees were at their posts, as on a week-day, and the work commenced -with closed doors, in the immense establishment, entirely free from -customers. - -Denise, however, had not come down with the other young ladies at eight -o'clock. Confined to her room for the last five days by a sprained -ankle, caused when going up stairs to the work-rooms, she was going on -much better; but, sure of Madame Aurélie's indulgence, she did not hurry -down, and sat putting her boots on with difficulty, resolved, however, -to show herself in the department. The young ladies' bed-rooms now -occupied the entire fifth storey of the new buildings, along the Rue -Monsigny; there were sixty of them, on either side of a corridor, and -they were much more comfortable than formerly, although still -furnished with the iron bedstead, large wardrobe, and little mahogany -toilet-table. The private life of the saleswomen became more refined and -elegant there, they displayed a taste for scented soap and fine linen, -quite a natural ascent towards middle-class ways as their positions -improved, although high words and banging doors were still sometimes -heard amidst the hôtel-like gust that carried them away, morning and -evening. Denise, being second-hand in her department, had one of the -largest rooms, the two attic windows of which looked into the street. -Being much better off now, she indulged in several little luxuries, a -red eider-down coverlet for the bed, covered with Maltese lace, a small -carpet in front of the wardrobe, and two blue-glass vases containing a -few faded roses on the toilet table. - -When she got her boots on she tried to walk across the room; but was -obliged to lean against the furniture, being still rather lame. But that -would soon come right again, she thought. At the same time, she had been -quite right in refusing the invitation to dine at uncle Baudu's that -evening, and in asking her aunt to take Pépé out for a walk, for she -had placed him with Madame Gras again. Jean, who had been to see her the -previous day, was to dine at his uncle's also. She continued to try to -walk, resolved to go to bed early, in order to rest her leg, when Madame -Cabin, the housekeeper, knocked and gave her a letter, with an air of -mystery. - -The door closed. Denise, astonished by this woman's discreet smile, -opened the letter. She dropped on to a chair; it was a letter from -Mouret, in which he expressed himself delighted at her recovery, and -begged her to go down and dine with him that evening, as she could not -go out. The tone of this note, at once familiar and paternal, was in no -way offensive; but it was impossible for her to mistake its meaning. The -Ladies' Paradise well knew the real signification of these invitations, -which were legendary: Clara had dined, others as well, all those the -governor had specially remarked. After dinner, as the witlings were -wont to say, came the dessert. And the young girl's white cheeks were -gradually invaded by a flow of blood. - -The letter slipped on to her knees, and Denise, her heart beating -violently, remained with her eyes fixed on the blinding light of one of -the windows. This was the confession she must have made to herself, in -this very room, during her sleepless moments: if she still trembled when -he passed, she now knew it was not from fear; and her former uneasiness, -her old terror, could have been nothing but the frightened ignorance of -love, the disorder of her growing affections, in her youthful wildness. -She did not argue with herself, she simply felt that she had always -loved him from the hour she had shuddered and stammered before him. -She had loved him when she had feared him as a pitiless master; she had -loved him when her distracted heart was dreaming of Hutin, unconsciously -yielding to a desire for affection. Perhaps she might have given herself -to another, but she had never loved any but this man, whose mere look -terrified her. And her whole past life came back to her, unfolding -itself in the blinding light of the window: the hardships of her start, -that sweet walk under the shady trees of the Tuileries Gardens, and, -lastly, the desires with which he had enveloped her ever since her -return. The letter dropped on the ground, Denise still gazed at the -window, dazzled by the glare of the sun. - -Suddenly there was a knock. She hastened to pick up the letter and -conceal it in her pocket. It was Pauline, who, having slipped away under -some pretext, had come for a little gossip. - -“How are you, my dear? We never meet now----” - -But as it was against the rules to go up into the bed-rooms, and, above -all, for two to be shut in together, Denise took her to the end of the -passage, into the ladies' drawing-room, a gallant present from Mouret -to the young ladies, who could spend their evenings there till eleven -o'clock. The apartment, decorated in white and gold, of the vulgar -nudity of an hôtel room, was furnished with a piano, a central table, -and some arm-chairs and sofas protected with white covers. But, after -a few evenings spent together, in the first novelty of the thing, the -saleswomen never went into the place without coming to high words at -once. They required educating to it, the little trading city was wanting -in accord. Meanwhile, almost the only one that went there in the evening -was the second-hand in the corset department, Miss Powell, who strummed -away at Chopin on the piano, and whose coveted talent ended by driving -the others away. - -“You see my ankle's better now,” said Denise, “I was going downstairs.” - -“Well!” exclaimed the other, “what zeal! I'd take it easy if I had the -chance!” - -They both sat down on a sofa. Pauline's attitude had changed since her -friend had been promoted to be second-hand in the ready-made department. -With her good-natured cordiality was mingled a shade of respect, a sort -of surprise to feel the puny little saleswoman of former days on the -road to fortune. Denise liked her very much, and confided in her alone, -amidst the continual gallop of the two hundred women that the firm now -employed. - -“What's the matter?” asked Pauline, quickly, when she remarked the young -girl's troubled looks. - -“Oh! nothing,” replied the latter, with an awkward smile. - -“Yes, yes; there's something the matter with you. Have you no faith in -me, that you have given up telling me your troubles?” - -Then Denise, in the emotion that was swelling her bosom--an emotion -she could not control--abandoned herself to her feelings. She gave her -friend the letter, stammering: “Look! he has just written to me.” - -Between themselves, they had never openly spoken of Mouret. But this -very silence was like a confession of their secret pre-occupations. -Pauline knew everything. After having read the letter, she clasped -Denise in her arms, and softly murmured: “My dear, to speak frankly, I -thought it was already done. Don't be shocked; I assure you the whole -shop must think as I do. Naturally! he appointed you as second-hand -so quickly, then he's always after you. It's obvious!” She kissed -her affectionately, and then asked her: “You will go this evening, of -course?” - -Denise looked at her without replying. All at once she burst into tears, -her head on Pauline's shoulder. The latter was quite astonished.' - -“Come, try and calm yourself; there's nothing in the affair to upset you -like this.” - -“No, no; let me be,” stammered Denise. “If you only knew what trouble I -am in! Since I received that letter, I have felt beside myself. Let me -have a good cry, that will relieve me.” - -Full of pity, though not understanding, Pauline endeavoured to console -her. In the first place, he had thrown up Clara. It was said he still -visited a lady outside, but that was not proved. Then she explained that -one could not be jealous of a man in such a position. He had too much -money; he was the master, after all Denise listened to her, and had she -been ignorant of her love, she could no longer have doubted it after -the suffering she felt at the name of Clara and the allusion to -Madame Desforges, which made her heart bleed. She could hear Clara's -disagreeable voice, she could see Madame Desforges dragging her about -the different departments with the scorn of a rich lady for a poor -shop-girl. - -“So you would go yourself?” asked she. - -Pauline, without pausing to think, cried out: “Of course, how can one do -otherwise!” Then reflecting, she added: “Not now, but formerly, because -now I am going to marry Baugé, and it would not be right.” - -In fact, Baugé, who had left the Bon Marche for The Ladies' Paradise, -was going to marry her about the middle of the month. Bourdoncle did -not like these married couples; they had managed, however, to get the -necessary permission, and even hoped to obtain a fortnight's holiday for -their honeymoon. - -“There you are,” declared Denise, “when a man loves a girl he ought to -marry her. Baugé is going to marry you.” Pauline laughed heartily. “But -my dear, it isn't the same thing. Baugé is going to marry me because he -is Baugé. He's my equal, that's a natural thing. Whilst Monsieur Mouret! -Do you think Monsieur Mouret can marry his saleswomen?” - -“Oh! no, oh! no,” exclaimed the young girl, shocked by the absurdity the -question, “and that's why he ought not to have written to me.” - -This argument completely astonished Pauline. Her coarse face, with her -small tender eyes, assumed quite an expression of maternal compassion. -Then she got up, opened the piano, and softly played with one finger, -“King Dagobert,” to enliven the situation, no doubt. Into the nakedness -of the drawingroom, the white coverings of which seemed to increase the -emptiness, came the noises from the street, the distant melopoia of a -woman crying out green peas. Denise had thrown herself back on the sofa, -her head against the wood-work, shaken by a fresh flood of sobs, which -she stifled in her handkerchief. - -“Again!” resumed Pauline, turning round. “Really you are not reasonable. -Why did you bring me here? We ought to have stopped in your room.” - -She knelt down before her, and commenced lecturing her again. How many -others would like to be in her place! Besides, if the thing did not -please her, it was very simple: she had only to say no, without worrying -herself like this. But she should reflect before risking her position -by a refusal which was inexplicable, considering she had no engagement -elsewhere. Was it such a terrible thing after all? and the reprimand -was finishing up by some pleasantries, gaily whispered, when a sound of -footsteps was heard in the passage. Pauline ran to the door and looked -out. “Hush! Madame Aurélie!” she murmured. “I'm off, and just you dry -your eyes. She need not know what's up.” When Denise was alone, she got -up, and forced back her tears; and, her hands still trembling, with the -fear of being caught there doing nothing, she closed the piano, which -her friend had left open. But on hearing Madame Aurélie knocking at her -door, she left the drawing-room. - -“What! you are up!” exclaimed the first-hand. “It's very thoughtless -of you, my dear child. I was just coming up to see how you were, and to -tell you that we did not require you downstairs.” - -Denise assured her that she felt very much better, that it would do her -good to do something to amuse herself. - -“I sha'nt tire myself, madame. You can place me on a chair, and I'll do -some writing.” - -Both then went downstairs. Madame Aurélie, who was most attentive, -insisted on Denise leaning on her shoulder. She must have noticed the -young girl's red eyes, for she was stealthily examining her. No doubt -she was aware of a great deal of what was going on. - -It was an unexpected victory: Denise had at last conquered the -department. After struggling for six months, amidst her torments as -drudge and fag, without disarming her comrades' ill-will, she had in a -few weeks entirely overcome them, and now saw them around her submissive -and respectful. Madame Aurélie's sudden affection had greatly assisted -her in this ungrateful task of softening her comrades' hearts towards -her. It was whispered that the first-hand was Mouret's obliging -factotum, that she rendered him many delicate services; and she took the -young girl under her protection with such warmth that the latter must -have been recommended to her in a very special manner. But Denise had -also brought all her charm into play in order to disarm her enemies. -The task was all the more difficult from the fact that she had to obtain -their pardon for her appointment to the situation of second-hand. The -young ladies spoke of this as an injustice, accused her of having earned -it at dessert, with the governor; and even added a lot of abominable -details. But in spite of their revolt, the title of second-hand -influenced them, Denise assumed a certain authority which astonished and -overawed the most hostile spirits. Soon after, she even found flatterers -amongst the new hands; and her sweetness and modesty finished the -conquest. Marguerite came over to her side. Clara was the only one to -continue her ill-natured ways, still venturing on the old insult of -the “unkempt girl,” which no one now saw the fun of. During her short -intimacy with Mouret, she had taken advantage of it to neglect her work, -being of a wonderfully idle, gossiping nature; then, as he had quickly -tired of her, she did not even recriminate, incapable of jealousy in -the disorderly abandon of her existence, perfectly satisfied to have -profited from it to the extent of being allowed to stand about doing -nothing. But, at the same time, she considered that Denise had robbed -her of Madame Frederic's place. She would never have accepted it, on -account of the worry; but she was vexed at the want of politeness, for -she had the same claims as the other one, and prior claims too. - -“Hullo! there's the young mother being trotted out after her -confinement,” murmured she, on seeing Madame Aurélie bringing Denise in -on her arm. - -Marguerite shrugged her shoulders, saying, “I dare say you think that's -a good joke!” - -Nine o'clock struck. Outside, an ardent blue sky was warming the -streets. - -Cabs were rolling toward the railway stations, the whole population -dressed out in Sunday clothes, was streaming in long rows towards the -suburban woods. - -Inside the building, inundated with sun through the large open bays, the -cooped-up staff had just commenced the stocktaking. They had closed -the doors; people stopped on the pavement, looking through the windows, -astonished at this shutting-up when an extraordinary activity was going -on inside. There was, from one end of the galleries to the other, from -the top floor to the bottom, a continual movement of employees, their -arms in the air, and parcels flying about above their heads; and -all this amidst a tempest of cries and a calling out of prices, the -confusion of which ascended and became a deafening roar. Each of the -thirty-nine departments did its work apart, without troubling about its -neighbour. At this early hour the shelves had hardly been touched, there -were only a few bales of goods on the floors; the machine would have to -get up more steam if they were to finish that evening. - -“Why have you come down?” asked Marguerite of Denise, good-naturedly. -“You'll only make yourself worse, and we are quite enough to do the -work.” - -“That's what I told her,” declared Madame Aurélie, “but she insisted on -coming down to help us.” - -All the young ladies flocked round Denise. The work was interrupted even -for a time. They complimented her, listening with various exclamations -to the story of her sprained ankle. At last Madame Aurélie made her sit -down at a table; and it was understood that she should merely write -down the articles as they were called out. On such a day as this they -requisitioned any employee capable of holding a pen: the inspectors, the -cashiers, the clerks, even down to the shop messengers; and the various -departments divided amongst themselves these assistants of a day to get -the work over quicker. It was thus that Denise found herself installed -near Lhomme the cashier and Joseph the messenger, both bending over -large sheets of paper. - -“Five mantles, cloth, fur trimming, third size, at two hundred and forty -francs!” cried Marguerite. “Four ditto, first size, at two hundred and -twenty!” - -The work once more commenced. Behind Marguerite three saleswomen were -emptying the cupboards, classifying the articles, giving them to her in -bundles; and, when she had called them out, she threw them on the table, -where they were gradually heaping up in enormous piles. Lhomme wrote -down the articles, Joseph kept another list for the clearinghouse. -Whilst this was going on, Madame Aurélie herself, assisted by three -other saleswomen, was counting the silk garments, which Denise entered -on the sheets. Clara was employed in looking after the heaps, to arrange -them in such a manner that they should occupy the least space possible -on the tables. But she was not paying much attention to her work, for -the heaps were already tumbling down. - -“I say,” asked she of a little saleswoman who had joined that winter, -“are they going to give you a rise? You know the second-hand is to -have two thousand francs, which, with her commission, will bring her in -nearly seven thousand.” - -The little saleswoman, without ceasing to pass some cloaks down, replied -that if they didn't give her eight hundred francs she would take her -hook. The rises were always given the day after the stock-taking; it -was also the epoch at which, the amount of business done during the year -being known, the managers of the departments drew their commission on -the increase of this figure, compared with that of the preceding year. -Thus, notwithstanding the bustle and uproar of the work, the impassioned -gossiping went on everywhere. Between two articles called out, they -talked of nothing but money. The rumour ran that Madame Aurélie would -exceed twenty-five thousand francs; and this immense sum greatly excited -the young ladies. Marguerite, the best saleswoman after Denise, had made -four thousand five hundred francs, fifteen hundred francs salary, and -about three thousand francs commission; whilst Clara had not made two -thousand five hundred francs altogether. - -“I don't care a button for their rises!” resumed the latter, still -talking to the little saleswoman. “If papa were dead, I would jolly -soon clear out of this! But what exasperates me is to see seven thousand -francs given to that strip of a girl! What do you say?” - -Madame Aurélie violently interrupted the conversation, turning round -with her imperial air. “Be quiet, young ladies! We can't hear ourselves -speak, my word of honour!” - -Then she resumed calling out: “Seven mantles, old style, Sicilian, first -size, at a hundred and thirty! Three pelisses, surah, second size, at a -hundred and fifty! Have you got that down, Mademoiselle Baudu?” - -“Yes, madame.” - -Clara then had to look after the armfuls of garments piled on the -tables. She pushed them about, and made more room. But she soon left -them again to reply to a salesman, who was looking for her. It was the -glover, Mignot, escaped from his department. He whispered a request for -twenty francs; he already owed her thirty, a loan effected the day after -a race, after having lost his week's salary on a horse; this time he had -squandered his commission, drawn over night, and had not ten sous for -his Sunday. Clara had only ten francs about her, which she lent him with -a fairly good grace. And they went on talking, spoke of a party of six, -indulged in at a restaurant at Bougival, where the women had paid their -share: it was much better, they all felt perfectly at their ease like -that. Then Mignot, who wanted his twenty francs, went and bent over -Lhomme's shoulder. The latter, stopped in his writing, appeared greatly -troubled. However, he dared not refuse, and was looking for the money -in his purse, when Madame Aurélie, astonished not to hear Marguerite's -voice, which had been interrupted, perceived Mignot, and understood at -once. She roughly sent him back to his department, saying she didn't -want any one to come and distract her young ladies from their work. The -truth is, she dreaded this young man, a bosom friend of Albert's, the -accomplice of his doubtful tricks, which she trembled to see turn out -badly some day. Therefore, when Mignot had got his ten francs, and had -run away, she could not help saying to her husband: - -“Is it possible to let a fellow like that get over you!” - -“But, my dear, I really could not refuse the young man.” She closed his -mouth with a shrug of her substantial shoulders. Then, as the saleswomen -were slyly grinning at this family explanation, she resumed with -severity: “Now, Mademoiselle Vadon, don't let's go to sleep.” - -“Twenty cloaks, cashmere extra, fourth size, at eighteen francs and a -half,” resumed Marguerite in her sing-song voice. - -Lhomme, with his head bowed down, had resumed writing. They had -gradually raised his salary to nine thousand francs a year; and he was -very humble before Madame Aurélie, who still brought nearly triple as -much into the family. - -For a while the work pushed forward. Figures flew about, the parcels -of garments rained thick and fast on the tables, But Clara had invented -another amusement: she was teasing the messenger, Joseph, about -a passion that he was said to nourish for a young lady in the -pattern-room. This young lady, already twenty-eight years old, thin and -pale, was a protege of Madame Desforges, who had wanted to make Mouret -engage her as a saleswoman, backing up her recommendation with a -touching story: an orphan, the last of the De Fontenailles, an old and -noble family of Poitou, thrown into the streets of Paris with a drunken -father, but yet virtuous amidst this misfortune, with an education too -limited, unfortunately, to take a place as governess or music-mistress. -Mouret generally got angry when any one recommended to him these -broken-down gentlewomen; there was not, said he, a class of creatures -more incapable, more insupportable, more narrow-minded than these -gentlewomen; and, besides, a saleswoman could not be improvised, -she must serve an apprenticeship, it was a complicated and delicate -business. However, he took Madame Desforges's protege, but put her in -the pattern-room, in the same way as he had already found places, to -oblige friends, for two countesses and a baroness in the advertising -department, where they addressed envelopes, etc. Mademoiselle de -Fontenailles earned three francs a day, which just enabled her to live -in her modest room, in the Rue d'Argenteuil. It was on seeing her, with -her sad look and such shabby clothes, that Joseph's heart, very tender -under his rough soldier's manner, had been touched. He did not confess, -but he blushed, when the young ladies in the ready-made department -chaffed him; for the pattern-room was not far off, and they had often -observed him prowling about the doorway. - -“Joseph is somewhat absent-minded,” murmured Clara. “His nose is always -turned towards the under-linen department.” - -They had requisitioned Mademoiselle de Fontenailles there, and she was -assisting at the outfitting counter. As the messenger was continually -glancing in that direction, the saleswomen began to laugh. He became -very confused, and plunged into his accounts; whilst Marguerite, in -order to arrest the flood of gaiety which was tickling her throat, cried -out louder stills “Fourteen jackets, English cloth, second size, at -fifteen francs!” - -At this, Madame Aurélie, who was engaged in calling out some cloaks, -could not make herself heard. She interfered with a wounded air, and -a majestic slowness: “A little softer, mademoiselle. We are not in a -market. And you are all very unreasonable, to be amusing yourselves with -these childish matters, when our time is so precious.” - -Just at that moment, as Clara was not paying any attention to the -parcels, a catastrophe took place. Some mantles tumbled down, and all -the heaps on the tables, dragged down with them, fell one after the -other, so that the carpet was strewn with them. - -“There! what did I say!” cried the first-hand, beside herself. “Pray be -more careful, Mademoiselle Prunaire; it's intolerable!” - -But a hum ran along: Mouret and Bourdoncle, making their round of -inspection, had just appeared. The voices started again, the pens -sputtered along, whilst Clara hastened to pick up the garments. The -governor did not interrupt the work. He stood there several minutes, -mute, smiling; and it was on his lips alone that a slight feverish -shivering was visible in his gay and victorious face of stock-taking -days. When he perceived Denise, he nearly gave way to a gesture of -astonishment. She had come down, then? His eyes met Madame Aurélie's. -Then, after a moment's hesitation, he went away into the under-linen -department. - -However, Denise, warned by the slight noise, had raised her head. And, -after having recognised Mouret, she had immediately bent over her -work again, without ostentation. Since she had been writing in this -mechanical way, amidst the regular calling-out of the articles, a -peaceful feeling had stolen over her. She had always yielded thus to -the first excesses of her sensitiveness: the tears suffocated her, -her passion doubled her torments; then she regained her self-command, -finding a grand, calm courage, a strength of will, quiet but inexorable. -Now, with her limpid eyes, and pale complexion, she was free from all -agitation, entirely given up to her work, resolved to crush her heart -and to do nothing but her will. - -Ten o'clock struck, the uproar of the stock-taking was increasing in the -activity of the departments. And amidst the cries incessantly raised, -crossing each other on all sides, the same news was circulating with -surprising rapidity: every salesman knew that Mouret had written that -morning inviting Denise to dinner. The indiscretion came from Pauline. -On going downstairs, still excited, she had met Deloche in the lace -department, and, without noticing that Liénard was talking to the young -man, she immediately relieved her mind of the secret. - -“It's done, my dear fellow. She's just received a letter. He invites her -for this evening.” - -Deloche turned very pale. He had understood, for he often questioned -Pauline; they spoke of their common friend every day, of Mouret's love -for her, of the famous invitation which would finish by bringing the -adventure to an issue. She frequently scolded him for his secret love -for Denise, with whom he would never succeed, and she shrugged her -shoulders whenever he expressed his approval of the girl's conduct in -resisting the governor. - -“Her foot's better, she's coming down,” continued Pauline. - -“Pray don't put on that funeral face. It's a piece of good luck for her, -this invitation.” And she hastened back to her department. - -“Ah! good!” murmured Liénard, who had heard all, “you're talking about -the young girl with the sprain. You were quite right to be so quick in -defending her last night at the café!” - -He also ran off; but before he had returned to the woollen department, -he had already related the story to four or five fellows. In less than -ten minutes, it had gone the round of the whole shop. - -Liénard's last remark referred to a scene which had taken place the -previous evening, at the Café Saint-Roch. Deloche and he were now -constantly together. The former had taken Hutin's room at the Hôtel de -Smyme, when that gentleman, appointed second-hand, had hired a suite of -three rooms; and the two shopmen came to The Ladies' Paradise together -in the morning, and waited for each other in the evening in order to go -away together. Their rooms, which were next door to each other, looked -into the same black yard, a narrow well, the odour from which poisoned -the hôtel. They got on very well together, notwithstanding their -difference of character, the one carelessly squandering the money he -drew from his father, the other penniless, perpetually tortured by ideas -of saving, both having, however, a point in common, their unskilfulness -as salesmen, which left them to vegetate at their counters, without any -increase of salary. After leaving the shop, they spent the greater part -of their time at the Café Saint-Roch. Quite free from customers during -the day, this café filled up about halfpast eight with an overflowing -crowd of employees, that crowd of shopmen disgorged into the street from -the great door in the Place Gaillon. Then burst forth a deafening uproar -of clinking dominoes, bursts of laughter and yelping voices, amidst the -thick smoke of the pipes. Beer and coffee were in great demand. Seated -in the left-hand corner, Liénard went in for the dearest drinks, whilst -Deloche contented himself with a glass of beer, which he would take -four hours to drink. It was there that the latter had heard Favier, at a -neighbouring table, relate some abominable things about Denise, the way -in which she had “hooked” the governor, by pulling her dress up whenever -she went upstairs in front of him. He had with difficulty restrained -himself from striking him. Then, as the other went off, saying that -the young girl went down every night to join her lover, he called him a -liar, feeling mad with rage. - -“What a blackguard! It's a lie, it's a lie, I tell you!” - -And in the emotion which was agitating him, he let out too much, with a -stammering voice, entirely opening his heart. - -“I know her, and it isn't true. She has never had any affection except -for one man; yes, for Monsieur Hutin, and even he has never noticed it, -he can't even boast of ever having as much as touched her.” - -The report of this quarrel, exaggerated, misconstrued, was already -affording amusement for the whole shop, when the story of Mouret's -letter was circulated. In fact, it was to a salesman in the silk -department that Liénard first confided the news. With the silk-vendors -the stock-taking was going on rapidly. Favier and two shopmen, mounted -on stools, were emptying the shelves, passing the pieces of stuff to -Hutin as they went on, the latter, standing on a table, calling out the -figures, after consulting the tickets; and he then dropped the pieces, -which, rising slowly like an autumn tide, were gradually encumbering the -floor. Other men were writing, Albert Lhomme was also helping them, -his face pale and heavy after a night spent in a low public-house at La -Chapelle. A ray of sun fell from the glazed roof of the hall, through -which could be seen the ardent blue of the sky. - -“Draw those blinds!” cried out Bouthemont, very busy superintending the -work. “The sun is unbearable!” - -Favier, who was stretching to reach a piece, grumbled under his breath: -“A nice thing to shut people up a lovely day like this! No fear of it -raining on a stock-taking day! And they keep us under lock and key like -a lot of convicts when all Paris is out-doors!” - -He passed the piece to Hutin. On the ticket was the measurement, -diminished at each sale by the quantity sold, which greatly simplified -the work. The second-hand cried out: “Fancy silk, small check, -twenty-one yards, at six francs and a half.” - -And the silk went to increase the heap on the floor. Then he continued -a conversation commenced, by saying to Favier: “So he wanted to fight -you?” - -“Yes, I was quietly drinking my glass of beer. It was hardly worth -while contradicting me, she has just received a letter from the governor -inviting her to dinner. The whole shop is talking about it.” - -“What! it wasn't done!” - -Favier handed him another piece. - -“A caution, isn't it? One would have staked his life on it. It seemed -like an old connection.” - -“Ditto, twenty-five yards!” cried Hutin. - -The dull thud of the piece was heard, whilst he added in a lower tone: -“She carried on fearfully, you know, at that old fool Bourras's.” - -The whole department was now joking about the affair, without, however, -allowing the work to suffer. The young girl's name passed from mouth to -mouth, the fellows arched their backs and winked. Bouthemont himself, -who took a rare delight in such gay stories, could not help adding his -joke, the bad taste of which filled his heart with joy. Albert, -waking up a bit, swore he had seen Denise with two soldiers at the -Gros-Caillou. At that moment Mignot came down, with the twenty francs he -had just borrowed, and he stopped to slip ten francs into Albert's -hand, making an appointment with him for the evening; a projected lark, -restrained for want of money, but still possible, notwithstanding the -smallness of the sum. But handsome Mignot, when he heard about the -famous letter, made such an abominable remark, that Bouthemont was -obliged to interfere. - -“That's enough, gentlemen. It isn't our business. Go on, Monsiéur -Hutin.” - -“Fancy silk, small check, thirty-two yards, at six francs and a half,” - cried out the latter. - -The pens started off again, the parcels fell regularly, the flood of -stuffs still increased, as if the overflow of a river had emptied itself -there. And the calling out of the fancy silks never ceased. Favier, in a -half whisper, remarked that the stock was in a nice state; the governors -would be enchanted; that big stupid of a Bouthemont might be the best -buyer in Paris, but as a salesman he was not worth his salt. Hutin -smiled, delighted, approving by a friendly look; for after having -himself introduced Bouthemont into The Ladies' Paradise, in order to -drive out Robineau, he was now undermining him also, with the firm -intention of robbing him of his place. It was the same war as formerly, -treacherous insinuations whispered in the partners' ears, an excessive -display of zeal in order to push one's-self forward, a regular campaign -carried on with affable cunning. However, Favier, towards whom Hutin was -displaying some fresh condescension, took a look at the latter, thin and -cold, with his bilious face, as if to count the mouthfuls in this short, -squat little man, and looking as though he were waiting till his -comrade had swallowed up Bouthemont, in order to eat him afterwards. -He, Favier,' hoped to get the second-hand's place, should his friend be -appointed manager. Then, they would see. And both, consumed by the fever -which was raging from one end of the shop to the other, talked of the -probable rises of salary, without ceasing to call out the stock of fancy -silks; they felt sure Bouthemont would reach thirty thousand francs -that year; Hutin would exceed ten thousand; Favier estimated his pay and -commission at five thousand five hundred. The amount of business in the -department was increasing yearly, the salesmen were promoted and their -salaries doubled, like officers in time of war. - -“Won't those fancy silks soon be finished?” asked Bouthemont suddenly, -with an annoyed air. “What a miserable spring, always raining! People -have bought nothing but black silks.” - -His fat, jovial face became cloudy; he looked at the growing heap on the -floor, whilst Hutin called out louder still, in a sonorous voice, not -free from triumph--“Fancy silks, small check, twenty-eight yards, at six -francs and a half.” - -There was still another shelf-full. Favier, whose arms were beginning -to feel tired, was now going very slowly. As he handed Hutin the last -pieces he resumed in a low tone--“Oh! I say, I forgot. Have you heard -that the second-hand in the ready-made department once had a regular -fancy for you?” - -The young man seemed greatly surprised. “What! How do you mean?” - -“Yes, that great booby Deloche let it out to us. I remember her casting -sheep's eyes at you some time back.” - -Since his appointment as second-hand Hutin had thrown up his music-hall -singers and gone in for governesses. Greatly flattered at heart, he -replied with a scornful air, “I like them a little better stuffed, -my boy; besides, it won't do to take up with anybody, as the governor -does.” He stopped to call out-- - -“White Poult silk, thirty-five yards, at eight francs fifteen sous.” - -“Oh! at last!” murmured Bouthemont, greatly relieved. - -But a bell rang, it was the second table, to which Favier belonged. He -got off the stool, another salesman took his place, and he was obliged -to step over the mountain of pieces of stuff with which the floor was -encumbered. Similar heaps were scattered about in very department; the -shelves, the boxes, the cupboards were being gradually emptied, whilst -the goods were overflowing on every side, under-foot, between the -counters and the tables, in a continual rising. In the linen department -was heard the heavy falling of the bales of calico; in the mercery -department there was a clicking of boxes; and distant rumbling sounds -came from the furniture department. Every sort of voice was heard -together, shrill voices, thick voices; figures whizzed through the air, -a rustling clamour reigned in the immense nave--the clamour of the -forests in January when the wind is whistling through the branches. - -Favier at last got clear and went up the dining-room staircase. Since -the enlargement of The Ladies' Paradise the refectories had been shifted -to the fourth storey in the new buildings. As he hurried up he came upon -Deloche and Liénard, so he fell back on Mignot, who was following on his -heels. - -“The deuce!” said he, in the corridor leading to the kitchen, opposite -the blackboard on which the bill of fare was inscribed, “you can see -it's stock-taking day. A regular feast! Chicken, or leg of mutton, and -artichokes! Their mutton won't be much of a success!” - -Mignot sniggered, murmuring, “Every one's going in for chicken, then!” - -However, Deloche and Liénard had taken their portions and had gone away. -Favier then leant over at the wicket and called out--“Chicken!” - -But he had to wait; one of the kitchen helps had cut his finger in -carving, and this caused some confusion. Favier stood there, with -his face to the opening, looking into the kitchen with its giant -appliances--the central range, over which two rails fixed to the -ceiling brought forward, by a system of chains and pullies, the colossal -coppers, which four men could not have lifted. Several cooks, quite -white in the sombre red of the furnace, were attending to the evening -soup coppers, mounted on iron ladders, armed with skimmers fixed on long -handles. Then against the wall were grills large enough to roast -martyrs on, saucepans big enough to cook a whole sheep in, a monumental -plate-warmer, and a marble well kept full by a continual stream of -water. To the left could be seen a washing-up place, stone sinks as -large as ponds; whilst on the other side to the right, was an immense -meat-safe, in which some large joints of red meat were hanging on steel -hooks. A machine for peeling potatoes was working with the tic-tac of -a mill. Two small trucks laden with freshly-picked salad were being -wheeled along by some kitchen helps into the fresh air under a fountain. - -“Chicken,” repeated Favier, getting impatient. Then, turning round, he -added in a lower tone, “There's one fellow cut himself. It's disgusting, -it's running over the food.” - -Mignot wanted to see. Quite a string of shopmen had now arrived; there -was a good deal of laughing and pushing. The two young men, their -heads at the wicket, exchanged their remarks before this phalansterian -kitchen, in which the least utensils, even the spits and larding pins, -assumed gigantic proportions. Two thousand luncheons and two thousand -dinners had to be served, and the number of employees was increasing -every week. It was quite an abyss, into which was thrown daily something -like forty-five bushels of potatoes, one hundred and twenty pounds of -butter, and sixteen hundred pounds of meat; and at each meal they had to -broach three casks of wine, over a hundred and fifty gallons were served -out at the wine counter. - -“Ah! at last!” murmured Favier when the cook reappeared with a large -pan, out of which he handed him the leg of a fowl. - -“Chicken,” said Mignot behind him. - -And with their plates in their hands they both entered the refectory, -after having taken their wine at the counter; whilst behind them the -word “Chicken” was repeated without ceasing, regularly, and one could -hear the cook picking up the pieces with his fork with a rapid and -measured sound. - -The men's dining-room was now an immense apartment, where places for -five hundred at each of the three dinners could easily be laid. There -were long mahogany tables, placed parallel across the room, and at -either end were similar tables reserved for the managers of departments -and the inspectors; whilst in the centre was a counter for the extras. -Large windows, right and left, lighted up with a white light this -gallery, of which the ceiling, notwithstanding its being four yards -high, seemed very low, crushed by the enormous development of the other -dimensions. The sole ornament on the walls, painted a light yellow, -were the napkin cupboards. After this first refectory came that of -the messengers and carmen, where the meals were served irregularly, -according to the necessities of the work. - -“What! you've got a leg as well, Mignot?” said Favier, as he took his -place at one of the tables opposite his companion. - -Other young men now sat down around them. There was no tablecloth, the -plates gave out a cracked sound on the bare mahogany, and every one was -crying out in this particular corner, for the number of legs was really -prodigious. - -“These chickens are all legs!” remarked Mignot. - -Those who had pieces of the carcase were greatly discontented. However, -the food had been much better since the late improvements. Mouret -no longer treated with a contractor at a fixed sum; he had taken the -kitchen into his own hands, organising it like one of the departments, -with a head-cook, under-cooks, and an inspector; and if he spent more -he got more work out of the staff--a practical humane calculation which -long terrified Bourdoncle. - -“Mine is pretty tender, all the same,” said Mignot. “Pass over the -bread!” - -The big loaf was sent round, and after cutting a slice for himself he -dug the knife into the crust A few dilatory ones now hurried in, taking -their places; a ferocious appetite, increased by the morning's work, -ran along the immense tables from one end to the other. There was an -increasing clatter of forks, a sound of bottles being emptied, the noise -of glasses laid down too violently, the grinding rumble of five hundred -pairs of powerful jaws working with wonderful energy. And the talk, -still very rare, was stifled in the mouths full of food. - -Deloche, however, seated between Baugé and Liénard, found himself nearly -opposite Favier. They had glanced at each other with a rancorous look. -The neighbours whispered, aware of their quarrel the previous day. -Then they laughed at poor Deloche's ill-luck, always famishing, always -falling on to the worst piece at table, by a sort of cruel fatality. -This time he had come in for the neck of a chicken and bits of the -carcase. Without saying a word he let them joke away, swallowing large -mouthfuls of bread, and picking the neck with the infinite art of a -fellow who entertains a great respect for meat. - -“Why don't you complain?” asked Baugé. - -But he shrugged his shoulders. What would be the good? It was always the -same. When he ventured to complain things went worse than ever. - -“You know the Bobbin fellows have got their club now,” said Mignot, all -at once. “Yes, my boy, the 'Bobbin Club.' It's held at a tavern in the -Rue Saint-Honoré, where they hire a room on Saturdays.” - -He was speaking of the mercery salesmen. The whole table began to joke. -Between two mouthfuls, with his voice still thick, each one made some -remark, added a detail; the obstinate readers alone remained mute, -absorbed, their noses buried in some newspapers. It could not be denied; -shopmen were gradually assuming a better style; nearly half of them now -spoke English or German. It was no longer good form to go and kick up -a row at Bullier, to prowl about the music-halls for the pleasure of -hissing ugly singers. No; a score of them got together and formed a -club. - -“Have they a piano like the linen-drapers?” asked Liénard. - -“I should rather think they have a piano!” exclaimed Mignot. “And they -play, my boy, and sing! There's even one of them, little Bavoux, who -recites verses.” - -The gaiety redoubled, they chaffed little Bavoux, but still beneath this -laughter there lay a great respect. They then spoke of a piece at the -Vaudeville, in which a counter-jumper played a nasty part, which annoyed -several of them, whilst others were anxiously wondering what time they -would get away, having invitations to pass the evening at friends' -houses; and from all points were heard similar conversations amidst -the increasing noise of the crockery. To drive out the odour of the -food--the warm steam which rose from the five hundred plates--the -windows had been opened, while the lowered blinds were scorching in -the heavy August sun. An ardent breath came in from the street, golden -reflections yellowed the ceiling, bathing in a reddish light the -perspiring eaters. - -“A nice thing to shut people up such a fine Sunday as this!” repeated -Favier. - -This reflection brought them back to the stock-taking. It was a splendid -year. And they went on to speak of the salaries--the rises--the eternal -subject, the stirring question which occupied them all. It was always -thus on chicken days, a wonderful excitement declared itself, the noise -at last became insupportable. When the waiters brought the artichokes -one could not hear one's self speak. The inspector on duty had orders to -be indulgent. - -“By the way,” cried out Favier, “you've heard the news?” - -But his voice was drowned. Mignot was asking: “Who doesn't like -artichoke; I'll sell my dessert for an artichoke.” - -No one replied. Everybody liked artichoke. This lunch would be counted -amongst the good ones, for peaches were to be given for dessert. - -“He has invited her to dinner, my dear fellow,” said Favier to his -right-hand neighbour, finishing his story. “What! you didn't know it?” - -The whole table knew it, they were tired of talking about it since the -first thing in the morning. And the same poor jokes passed from mouth -to mouth. Deloche had turned pale again. He looked at them, his eyes -finishing by resting on Favier, who was persisting in repeating: - -“If he's not had her, he's going to. And he won't be the first; oh! no, -he won't be the first.” - -He was also looking at Deloche. He added with a provoking air: “Those -who like bones can have her for a crown!” Suddenly, he ducked his head. -Deloche, yielding to an irresistible movement, had just thrown his last -glass of wine into his tormentor's face, stammering: “Take that, you -infernal liar! I ought to have drenched you yesterday!” - -[Illustration: 0406] - -It caused quite a scandal. A few drops had spurted on Favier's -neighbours, whilst he only had his hair slightly wetted: the wine, -thrown by an awkward hand, had fallen the other side of the table. But -the others got angry, asking if she was his mistress that he defended -her in this way? What a brute! he deserved a good sound drubbing to -teach him manners. However, their voices fell, an inspector was observed -coming along, and it was useless to introduce the management into the -quarrel. Favier contented himself with saying: - -“If it had caught me, you would have seen some sport!” Then the affair -wound up in jeers. When Deloche, still trembling, wished to drink to -hide his confusion, and seized his empty glass mechanically, they burst -out laughing. He laid his glass down again awkwardly, and commenced -sucking the leaves of the artichoke he had already eaten. - -“Pass Deloche the water bottle,” said Mignot, quietly; “he's thirsty.” - -The laughter increased. The young men took their clean plates from the -piles standing on the table, at equal distances, whilst the waiters -handed round the dessert, which consisted of peaches, in baskets. And -they all held their sides when Mignot added, with a grin: - -“Each man to his taste. Deloche takes wine with his peaches.” - -The latter sat motionless, with his head hanging down, as if deaf to the -joking going on around him: he was full of a despairing regret for what -he had just done. These fellows were right--what right had he to defend -her? They would now think all sorts of villanous things: he could have -killed himself for having thus compromised her, in attempting to prove -her innocence. This was always his luck, he might just as well kill -himself at once, for he could not even yield to the promptings of his -heart without doing some stupid thing. And the fears came into his eyes. -Was it not always his fault if the whole shop was talking of the letter -written by the governor? He heard them grinning and making abominable -remarks about this invitation, of which Liénard alone had been informed; -and he accused himself, he ought not to have let Pauline speak before -the latter; he was really responsible for the annoying indiscretion -committed. - -“Why did you go and relate that?” he murmured at last, in a voice full -of grief. “It's very bad.” - -“I?” replied Liénard; “but I only told it to one or two persons, -enjoining secrecy. One never knows how these things get about!” - -When Deloche made up his mind to drink a glass of water the whole table -burst out laughing again. They had finished and were lolling back on -their chairs waiting for the bell recalling them to work. They had not -asked for many extras at the great central counter, the more so as the -firm treated them to coffee that day. The cups were steaming, perspiring -faces shone under the light vapours, floating like the blue clouds -from cigarettes. At the windows the blinds hung motionless, without the -slightest flapping. One of them, drawn up, admitted a ray of sunshine -which traversed the room and gilded the ceiling. The uproar of the -voices beat on the walls with such force that the bell was at first -only heard by those at the tables near the door. They got up, and -the confusion of the departure filled the corridors for a long time. -Deloche, however, remained behind to escape the malicious remarks that -were still being made. Baugé even went out before him, and Baugé was, as -a rule, the last to leave, going a circuitous way so as to meet Pauline -as she went to the ladies' dining-room; a manouvre arranged between -them--the only chance of seeing each other for a minute during business -hours. But this time, just as they were indulging in a loving kiss in a -corner of the passage they were surprised by Denise, who was also going -up to lunch. She was walking slowly on account of her foot. - -“Oh! my dear,” stammered Pauline, very red, “don't say anything, will -you?” - -Baugé, with his big limbs and giant proportions, was trembling like -a little boy. He murmured, “They'd very soon pitch us out. Though our -marriage may be announced, they don't allow any kissing, the animals!” - -Denise, greatly agitated, affected not to have seen them; and Baugé -disappeared just as Deloche, who was going the longest way round, -appeared in his turn. He tried to apologise, stammering out phrases that -Denise did not at first catch. Then, as he blamed Pauline for having -spoken before Liénard, and she stood there looking very embarrassed, -Denise at last understood the whispered phrases she had heard around her -all the morning. It was the story of the letter that was circulating. -She was again seized by the shudder with which this letter had agitated -her; she felt herself disrobed by all these men. - -“But I didn't know,” repeated Pauline. “Besides, there's nothing bad in -the letter. Let them gossip; they're jealous, of course!” - -“My dear,” said Denise at last, with her prudent air, “I don't blame -you in any way! You've spoken nothing but the truth. I _have_ received a -letter, and it is my duty to answer it.” - -Deloche went away heart-broken, having understood that the young girl -accepted the situation and would keep the appointment that evening. When -the two young ladies had lunched in a small room adjoining the large -dining-room, and in which the women were served much more comfortably, -Pauline had to assist Denise downstairs, for the latter's foot was -worse. - -Down below in the afternoon warmth the stock-taking was roaring louder -than ever. The moment for the supreme effort had arrived, when before -the work, behindhand since the morning, every force was put forth in -order to finish that evening. The voices got louder still, one saw -nothing but the waving of arms continually emptying the shelves, -throwing the goods down, and it was impossible to get along, the tide of -the bales and piles of goods on the floor rose as high as the counters. -A sea of heads, of brandished fists, of limbs flying about, seemed to -extend to the very depths of the departments, like the distant confusion -of a riot. It was the last fever of the clearance, the machine nearly -ready to burst; whilst along the plate-glass windows, round the closed -shop, a few rare pedestrians continued to pass, pale with the -stifling boredom of a summer Sunday. On the pavement in the Rue -Neuve-Saint-Augustin were planted three tall girls, bareheaded and -sluttish-looking, impudently sticking their faces against the windows, -trying to see the curious work going on inside. - -When Denise returned to the ready-made department Madame Aurélie left -Marguerite to finish calling out the garments. There was still a lot of -checking to be done, for which, desirous of silence, she retired into -the pattern-room, taking the young girl with her. - -“Come with me, we'll do the checking; then you can add up the totals.” - -But as she wished to leave the door open, in order to look after the -young ladies, the noise came in, and they could not hear much better. -It was a large, square room, furnished simply with some chairs and three -long tables. In one corner were the great machine knives, for cutting -up the patterns. Entire pieces were consumed; they sent away every year -more than sixty thousand francs' worth of material, cut up in strips. -From morning to night, the knives were cutting up silk, wool, and linen, -with a scythe-like noise. Then the books had to be got together, -gummed or sewn. And there was also between the two windows, a little -printing-press for the tickets. - -“Not so loud, please!” cried Madame Aurélie, now and again, quite unable -to hear Denise reading out the articles. - -When the checking of the first lists was finished, she left the young -girl at one of the tables, absorbed in the adding-up. But she returned -almost immediately, and placed Mademoiselle de Fontenailles near her; -the under-linen department not wanting her any longer, had sent her to -Madame Aurélie. She could also do some adding-up, it would save time. -But the appearance of the marchioness, as Clara ill-naturedly called -her, had disturbed the department. They laughed and joked at poor -Joseph, their ferocious sallies could be heard in the pattern-room. - -“Don't draw back, you are not at all in my way,” said Denise, seized -with pity for the poor girl. “My inkstand will suffice, we'll dip -together.” - -Mademoiselle de Fontenailles, dulled and stultified by her unfortunate -position, could not even find a word of gratitude. She appeared to be -a woman who drank, her thinness had a livid appearance, and her hands -alone, white and delicate, attested the distinction of her birth. - -The laughter ceased all at once, and the work resumed its regular roar. -It was Mouret who was once more going through the departments. But he -stopped and looked round for Denise, surprised not to see her there. -He made a sign to Madame Aurélie; and both drew aside, talking in a low -tone for a moment. He must be questioning her. She indicated with her -eyes the pattern-room, then seemed to be making a report. No doubt she -was relating that the young girl had been weeping that morning. - -“Very good!” said Mouret, aloud, coming nearer. “Show me the lists.” - -“This way, sir,” said the first-hand. “We have run away from the noise.” - -He followed her into the next room. Clara was not duped by this -manouvre, and said they had better go and fetch a bed at once. But -Marguerite threw her the garments at a quicker rate, in order to take -up her attention and close her mouth. Wasn't the second-hand a good -comrade? Her affairs did not concern any one. The department was -becoming an accomplice, the young ladies got more agitated than ever, -Lhomme and Joseph affected not to see or hear anything. And Jouve, -the inspector, who, passing by, had remarked Madame Aurélie's tactics, -commenced walking up and down before the pattern-room door, with the -regular step of a sentry guarding the will and pleasure of a superior. - -“Give Monsieur Mouret the lists,” said the first-hand. - -Denise gave them, and sat there with her eyes raised. She had slightly -started, but had conquered herself, and retained a fine calm look, -although her cheeks were pale. For a moment, Mouret appeared to be -absorbed in the list of articles, without a look for the young girl. -A silence reigned, Madame Aurélie then went up to Mademoiselle de -Fontenailles, who had not even turned her head, appeared dissatisfied -with her counting, and said to her in a half whisper: - -“Go and help with the parcels. You are not used to figures.” - -The latter got up, and returned to the department, where she was greeted -by a whispering on all sides. Joseph, exposed to the laughing eyes -of these young minxes, was writing anyhow. Clara, delighted with this -assistant who arrived, was yet very rough with her, hating her as she -hated all the women in the shop. What an idiotic thing to yield to the -love of a workman, when one was a marchioness! And yet she envied her -this love. - -“Very good!” repeated Mouret, still affecting to read. - -However Madame Aurélie hardly knew how to get away in her turn in a -decent fashion. She stamped about, went to look at the knives, furious -with her husband for not inventing a pretext for calling her; but he was -never any good for serious matters, he would have died of thirst close -to a pond. It was Marguerite who was intelligent enough to go and ask -the first-hand a question. - -“I'm coming,” replied the latter. - -And her dignity being now protected, having a pretext in the eyes of the -young ladies who were watching her, she at last left Denise and Mouret -alone together, going out with her imperial air, her profile so noble, -that the saleswomen did not even dare to smile. Mouret had slowly laid -the lists on the table, and stood looking at the young girl, who had -remained seated, pen in hand. She did not avert her gaze, but she had -turned paler. - -“You will come this evening?” asked he. - -“No, sir, I cannot. My brothers are to be at uncle's to-night, and I -have promised to dine with them.” - -“But your foot! You walk with such difficulty.” - -“Oh, I can get so far very well. I feel much better since the morning.” - -He had now turned pale in his turn, before this quiet refusal. A nervous -revolt agitated his lips. However, he restrained himself, and resumed -with the air of a good-natured master simply interesting himself in one -of his young ladies: “Come now, if I begged of you--You know what great -esteem I have for you.” - -Denise retained her respectful attitude. “I am greatly touched, sir, by -your kindness to me, and I thank you for this invitation. But I repeat, -I cannot; my brothers expect me.” - -She persisted in not understanding. The door remained open, and she felt -that the whole shop was pushing her on to yield. Pauline had amicably -called her a great simpleton, the others would laugh at her if she -refused the invitation. Madame Aurélie, who had gone away, Marguerite, -whose rising voice she could hear, Lhomme, with his motionless, discreet -attitude, all these people were wishing for her fall, throwing her -into the governor's arms. And the distant roar of the stock-taking, -the millions of goods called out on all sides, thrown about in every -direction, were like a warm wind, carrying the breath of passion -straight towards her. There was a silence. Now and again, Mouret's voice -was drowned by the noise which accompanied him, with the formidable -uproar of a kingly fortune gained in battle. - -“When will you come, then?” asked he again. “Tomorrow?” - -This simple question troubled Denise. She lost her calmness for a -moment, and stammered: “I don't know--I can't----” - -He smiled, and tried to take her hand, which she withheld. “What are you -afraid of?” - -But she quickly raised her head, looked him straight in the face, and -said, smiling, with her sweet, brave look: “I am afraid of nothing, sir. -I can do as I like, can't I? I don't wish to, that's all!” - -As she finished speaking, she was surprised by hearing a creaking noise, -and on turning round saw the door slowly closing. It was Jouve, the -inspector, who had taken upon himself to pull it to. The doors were a -part of his duty, none should ever remain open. And he gravely resumed -his position as sentinel. No one appeared to have noticed this door -being closed in such a simple manner. Clara alone risked a strong remark -in Mademoiselle de Fontenailles's ear, but the latter's face remained -expressionless. - -Denise, however, had got up. Mouret was saying to her in a low and -trembling voice: “Listen, Denise, I love you. You have long known it, -pray don't be so cruel as to play the ignorant. And don't fear anything. -Many a time I've thought of calling you into my office. We should have -been alone, I should only have had to lock the door. But I did not wish -to; you see I speak to you here, where any one can enter. I love you, -Denise!” She was standing up, very pale, listening to him, still looking -straight into his face. “Tell me. Why do you refuse? Have you no wants? -Your brothers are a heavy burden. Anything you might ask me, anything -you might require of me----” - -With a word, she stopped him: “Thanks, I now earn more than I want.” - -“But it's perfect liberty that I am offering you, an existence of -pleasure and luxury. I will set you up in a home of your own. I will -assure you a little fortune.” - -“No, thanks; I should soon get tired of doing nothing. I earned my own -living before I was ten years old.” - -He was almost mad. This was the first one who did not yield. He had only -had to stoop to pick up the others, they all awaited his pleasure -like submissive slaves; and this one said no, without even giving a -reasonable pretext. His desire, long restrained, goaded by resistance, -became stronger than ever. Perhaps he had not offered enough, he -thought, and he doubled his offers; he pressed her more and more. - -“No, no, thanks,” replied she each time, without faltering. Then he -allowed this cry from his heart to escape him: “But don't you see that I -am suffering! Yes, it's stupid, but I am suffering like a child!” - -Tears came into his eyes. A fresh silence reigned. They could still hear -behind the closed door the softened roar of the stock-taking. It was -like a dying note of triumph, the accompaniment became more discreet, in -this defeat of the master. “And yet if I liked--” said he in an ardent -voice, seizing her hands. - -She left them in his, her eyes turned pale, her whole strength was -deserting her. A warmth came from this man's burning hands, filling her -with a delicious cowardice. Good heavens! how she loved him, and with -what delight she could have hung on his neck and remained there! - -“I will! I will!” repeated he, in his passionate excitement “I expect -you to-night, otherwise I will take measures.” - -He was becoming brutal. She set up a low cry; the pain she felt at her -wrists restored her courage. With an angry shake she disengaged herself. -Then, very stiff, looking taller in her weakness: “No, leave me alone! -I am not a Clara, to be thrown over in a day. Besides, you love another; -yes, that lady who comes here. Stay with her. I do not accept half an -affection.” - -He was struck with surprise. What was she saying, and what did she want? -The girls he had picked up in the shop had never asked to be loved. He -ought to have laughed at such an idea, and this attitude of tender pride -completely conquered his heart. - -“Now, sir, please open the door,” resumed she. “It is not proper to be -shut up together in this way.” - -He obeyed; and with his temples throbbing, hardly knowing how to conceal -his anguish, he recalled Madame Aurélie, and broke out angrily about the -stock of cloaks, saying that the prices must be lowered, until every one -had been got rid of. Such was the rule of the house--a clean sweep was -made every year, they sold at sixty per cent, loss rather than keep an -old model or any stale material. At that moment, Bourdoncle, seeking -Mouret, was waiting for him outside, stopped before the closed door -by Jouve, who had said a word in his ear with a grave air. He got very -impatient, without, however, summoning up the courage to interrupt the -governor's tête-à-tête. Was it possible? such a day too, and with that -puny creature! And when Mouret at last came out Bourdoncle spoke to -him about the fancy silks, of which the stock left on hand would be -enormous. This was a relief for Mouret, who could now cry out at -his ease. What the devil was Bouthemont thinking about? He went off, -declaring that he could not allow a buyer to display such a want of -sense as to buy beyond the requirements of the business. - -“What is the matter with him?” murmured Madame Aurélie, quite overcome -by his reproaches. - -And the young ladies looked at each other with a surprised air. At six -o'clock the stock-taking was finished. The sun was still shining--a -blonde summer sun, of which the golden reflection streamed through -the glazed roofs of the halls. In the heavy air of the streets, tired -families were already returning from the suburbs, loaded with bouquets, -dragging their children along. One by one, the departments had become -silent. Nothing was now heard in the depths of the galleries but the -lingering calls of a few men clearing a last shelf. Then even these -voices ceased, and there remained of the bustle of the day nothing but a -shivering, above the formidable piles of goods. The shelves, cupboards, -boxes, and band-boxes, were now empty: not a yard of stuff, not an -object of any sort had remained in its place. The vast establishment -presented nothing but the carcase of its usual appearance, the woodwork -was absolutely bare, as on the day of entering into possession. This -nakedness was the visible proof of the complete and exact taking of the -stock. And on the ground was sixteen million francs' worth of goods, a -rising sea, which had finished by submerging the tables and counters. -The shopmen, drowned up to the shoulders, had commenced to put each -article back into its place. They expected to finish about ten o'clock. - -When Madame Aurélie, who went to the first dinner, returned to the -dining-room, she announced the amount of business done during the year, -which the totals of the various departments had just given. The figure -was eighty million francs, ten millions more than the preceding year. -The only real decrease was on the fancy silks. - -“If Monsieur Mouret is not satisfied, I should like to know what more he -wants,” added the first-hand. “See! he's over there, at the top of the -grand staircase, looking furious.” - -The young ladies went to look at him. He was standing alone, with a -sombre countenance, above the millions scattered at his feet. - -“Madame,” said Denise, at this moment, “would you kindly let me go away -now? I can't do any more good on account of my foot, and as I am to dine -at my uncle's with my brothers----” - -They were all astonished. She had not yielded, then! Madame Aurélie -hesitated, and seemed inclined to prohibit her going out, her voice -sharp and disagreeable; whilst Clara shrugged her shoulders, full of -incredulity. That wouldn't do! it was very simple--the governor no -longer wanted her! When Pauline learnt this, she was in the baby-linen -department with Deloche, and the sudden joy exhibited by the young man -made her very angry. That did him a lot of good, didn't it? Perhaps -he was pleased to see that his friend had been stupid enough to miss -a fortune? And Bourdoncle, who did not dare to approach Mouret in -his ferocious isolation, marched up and down amidst these rumours, in -despair also, and full of anxiety. However, Denise went downstairs. As -she arrived at the bottom of the left-hand staircase, slowly, supporting -herself by the banister, she came upon a group of grinning salesmen. -Her name was pronounced, and she felt that they were talking about her -adventure. They had not noticed her. - -“Oh! all that's put on, you know,” Favier was saying. “She's full of -vice! Yes, I know some one she wanted to take by force.” - -And he looked at Hutin, who, in order to preserve his dignity as -second-hand, was standing a certain distance apart, without joining -in their conversation. But he was so flattered by the air of envy with -which the others were contemplating him, that he deigned to murmur: “She -was a regular nuisance to me, that girl!” - -Denise, wounded to the heart, clung to the banister. They must have seen -her, for they all disappeared, laughing. He was right, she thought, -and she accused herself of her former ignorance, when she used to think -about him. But what a coward he was, and how she scorned him now! A -great trouble had seized her: was it not strange that she should have -found the strength just now to repulse a man whom she adored, when she -used to feel herself so feeble in bygone days before this worthless -fellow, whom she had only dreamed off? Her sense of reason and her -bravery foundered before these contradictions of her being, in which she -could not read clearly. She hastened to cross the hall. Then a sort of -instinct prompted her to raise her head, whilst an inspector opened the -door, closed since the morning. And she perceived Mouret, who was still -at the top of the stairs, on the great central landing, dominating -the gallery. But he had forgotten the stock-taking, he did not see his -empire, this building bursting with riches. Everything had disappeared, -his former glorious victories, his future colossal fortune. With a -desponding look he was watching Denise's departure, and when she had -passed the door everything disappeared, a darkness came over the house. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -That day Bouthemont was the first to arrive at Madame Desforges's -four o'clock tea. Still alone in her large Louis XVI. drawing-room, -the brasses and brocatelle of which shone out with a clear gaiety, the -latter rose with an air of impatience, saying, “Well?” - -“Well,” replied the young man, “when I told him I should doubtless call -on you he formally promised me to come.” - -“You made him thoroughly understand that I counted on the baron to-day?” - -“Certainly. That's what appeared to decide him.” - -They were speaking of Mouret, who the year before had suddenly taken -such a liking to Bouthemont that he had admitted him to share his -pleasures, and had even introduced him to Henriette, glad to have an -agreeable fellow always at hand to enliven an intimacy of which he was -getting tired. It was thus that Bouthemont had ultimately become the -confidant of his governor and of the handsome widow; he did their little -errands, talked of the one to the other, and sometimes reconciled them. -Henriette, in her jealous fits, abandoned herself to a familiarity which -sometimes surprised and embarrassed him, for she lost all her lady-like -prudence, using all her art to save appearances. - -She resumed violently, “You ought to have brought him. I should have -been sure then.” - -“Well,” said he, with a good-natured laugh, “it isn't my fault if he -escapes so frequently now. Oh! he's very fond of me, all the same. Were -it not for him I should be in a bad way at the shop.” - -His situation at The Ladies' Paradise was really menaced since the last -stock-taking. It was in vain that he adduced the rainy season; one could -not overlook the considerable stock of fancy silks; and as Hutin was -improving the occasion, undermining him with the governors with an -increase of sly rage, he felt the ground cracking under him. Mouret -had condemned him, weary, no doubt, of this witness who prevented him -breaking with Henriette, tired of a familiarity which was profitless. -But, in accordance with his usual tactics, he was pushing Bourdoncle -forward; it was Bourdoncle and the other partners who insisted on his -dismissal at each board meeting; whilst he resisted still, according to -his account, defending his friend energetically, at the risk of getting -into serious trouble with the others. - -“Well, I shall wait,” resumed Madame Desforges. “You know that girl is -coming here at five o'clock, I want to see them face to face. I must -discover their secret.” - -And she returned to this long-meditated plan. She repeated in her fever -that she had requested Madame Aurélie to send her Denise to look at a -mantle which fitted badly. When she had once got the young girl in her -room, she would find a means of calling Mouret, and could then act. -Bouthemont, who had sat down opposite her, was gazing at her with his -fine laughing eyes, which he endeavoured to render grave. This jovial, -dissipated fellow, with his coal-black beard, whose warm Gascon blood -empurpled his cheeks, was thinking that these fine ladies were not much -good, and that they let out a nice lot of secrets, when they opened -their hearts. His friend's mistresses, simple shop-girls, certainly -never made more complete confessions. - -“Come,” he ventured to say at last, “what does that matter to you? I -swear to you there is nothing whatever between them.” - -“Just so,” cried she, “because he loves her! I don't care in the least -for the others, chance acquaintances, friends of a day!” - -She spoke of Clara with disdain. She was well aware that Mouret, after -Denise's refusal, had fallen back on this tall, redhaired girl, with -the horse's head, doubtless by calculation; for he maintained her in the -department, loading her with presents. Not only that, for the last three -months he had been leading: a terrible life, squandering his money with -a prodigality which caused a great many remarks; he had bought a mansion -for a worthless actress, and was being ruined by two or three other -jades, who seemed to be struggling to outdo each other in costly, stupid -caprices. - -“It's this creature's fault,” repeated Henriette. “I feel sure he's -ruining himself with the others because she repulses him. Besides, -what's his money to me? I should have loved him better poor. You know -how I love him, you who have become our friend.” - -She stopped, choked, ready to burst into tears; and with a movement -of abandon she held out her two hands to him. It was true, she adored -Mouret for his youth and his triumphs, never had any man thus conquered -her so entirely in a quiver of her flesh and of her pride; but at the -thought of losing him, she also heard the knell of her fortieth year, -and she asked herself with terror how she should replace this great -love. - -“I'll have my revenge,” murmured she. “I'll have my revenge, if he -behaves badly!” - -Bouthemont continued to hold her hands in his. She was still handsome. -But she would be a very awkward mistress, thought he, and he did not -like that style of woman. The thing, however, deserved thinking over; -perhaps it would be worth while risking certain annoyances. - -“Why don't you set up for yourself?” she asked all at once, drawing her -hands away. - -He was astonished. Then he replied: “But it would require an immense -sum. Last year I had an idea in my head. I feel convinced that there -are customers enough in Paris for one or two more big shops; but the -district would have to be chosen. The Bon Marche has the left side -of the river; the Louvre occupies the centre; we monopolise, at The -Paradise, the rich west-end district. There remains the north, where -a rival to the Place Clichy could be created. And I had discovered a -splendid position, near the Opera House----” - -“Well?” - -He set up a noisy laugh. “Just fancy. I was stupid enough to go and talk -to my father about it Yes, I was simple enough to ask him to find some -shareholders at Toulouse.” - -And he gaily described the anger of the old man, enraged against the -great Parisian bazaars, in his little country shop. Old Bouthemont, -suffocated by the thirty thousand francs a year earned by his son, had -replied that he would give his money and that of his friends to the -hospitals rather than contribute a sou to one of those shops which were -the pests of the drapery business. - -“Besides,” continued the young man, “it would require millions.” - -“Suppose they were found?” observed Madame Desforges, simply. - -He looked at her, serious all at once. Was it not merely a jealous -woman's word? But she did not give him time to question her, adding: “In -short, you know what a great interest I take in you. We'll talk about it -again.” - -The outer bell had rung. She got up, and he, himself, with an -instinctive movement, drew back his chair, as if they might have -been surprised. A silence reigned in the drawingroom, with its pretty -hangings, and decorated with such a profusion of green plants that there -was quite a small wood between the two windows. She stood there waiting, -with her ear towards the door. - -“There he is,” she murmured. - -The footman announced Monsieur Mouret and Monsieur de Vallagnosc. -Henriette could not restrain a movement of anger. Why had he not come -alone? He must have gone after his friend, fearful of a tête-à-tête with -her. However, she smiled and shook hands with the two men. - -“What a stranger you are getting. I may say the same for you, Monsieur -de Vallagnosc.” - -Her great grief was to be becoming stout, and she squeezed herself into -tight black silk dresses, to conceal her increasing obesity. However, -her pretty face, with her dark hair, preserved its amiable expression. -And Mouret could familiarly tell her, enveloping her with a look: - -“It's useless to ask how you are. You are as fresh as a rose.” - -“Oh! I'm almost too well,” replied she. “Besides, I might have died; you -would have known nothing about it.” - -She was examining him also, and thought him looking tired and nervous, -his eyes heavy, his complexion livid. - -“Well,” she resumed, in a tone which she endeavoured to render -agreeable, “I cannot return the compliment; you don't look at all well -to-day.” - -“Overwork!” remarked De Vallagnosc. - -Mouret shrugged his shoulders, without replying. He had just perceived -Bouthemont, and nodded to him in a friendly way. During the time -of their close intimacy he used to take him away direct from the -department, bringing him to Henriette's during the busiest moments of -the afternoon. But times had changed; he said to him in a half whisper: -“You went away rather early. They noticed your departure, and are -furious about it.” - -He referred to Bourdoncle and the other persons who had an interest in -the business, as if he were not himself the master. - -“Ah!” murmured Bouthemont, rather anxious. - -“Yes, I want to talk to you. Wait for me, we'll leave together.” - -Meanwhile, Henriette had sat down again; and while listening to De -Vallagnosc, who was announcing that Madame de Boves would probably pay -her a visit, she did not take her eyes off Mouret. The latter, silent -again, gazed at the furniture, seemed to be looking for something on the -ceiling. Then as she laughingly complained that she had only gentlemen -at her four o'clock tea, he so far forgot himself as to blurt out: - -“I expected to find Baron Hartmann here.” - -Henriette turned pale. No doubt she knew he came to her house solely to -meet the baron; but he might have avoided throwing his indifference in -her face like this. At that moment the door had opened and the footman -was standing behind her. When she had interrogated him by a sign, he -leant over her and said in a very low tone: - -“It's for that mantle. You wished me to let you know. The young lady is -there.” - -Then Henriette raised her voice, so as to be heard. All her jealous -suffering found relief in the following words, of a scornful harshness: - -“She can wait!” - -“Shall I show her into your dressing-room?” - -“No, no. Let her stay in the ante-room!” - -And when the servant had gone out she quietly resumed her conversation -with De Vallagnosc. Mouret, who had relapsed into his former lassitude, -had listened with a careless, distracted air, without understanding. -Bouthemont, preoccupied by the adventure, was reflecting. But almost -immediately after the door was opened again, and two ladies were shown -in. - -“Just fancy,” said Madame Marty, “I was alighting at the door, when I -saw Madame de Boves coming under the arcade.” - -“Yes,” explained the latter, “it's a fine day, and my doctor says I must -take walking exercise.” - -Then, after a general hand-shaking, she asked Henriette: - -“You're engaging a new maid, then?” - -“No,” replied the other, astonished. “Why?” - -“Because I've just seen a young girl in the ante-room.” Henriette -interrupted her, laughing. “It's true; all these shop-girls look like -ladies' maids, don't they? Yes, it's a young person come to alter a -mantle.” - -Mouret looked at her intently, a suspicion crossing his mind. She went -on with a forced gaiety, explaining that she had bought mantle at The -Ladies' Paradise the previous week. - -“What!” asked Madame Marty, “have you deserted Sauveur then?” - -“No my dear, but I wished to make an experiment. Besides, I was pretty -well satisfied with a first purchase, a travelling cloak. But this time -it has not succeeded at all. You may say what you like, one is horribly -trussed up in the big shops. I speak out plainly, even before you, -Monsieur Mouret; you will never know how to dress a woman with the -slightest claim to distinction.” - -Mouret did not defend his house, still keeping his eyes on her, thinking -to himself that she would never have dared to do such a thing. And it -was Bouthemont who had to plead the cause of The Ladies' Paradise. - -“If all the aristocratic ladies who patronise us announced the fact,” - replied he, gaily, “you would be astonished at our customers. Order a -garment to measure at our place, it will equal one from Sauveur's, and -will cost but half the money. But there, just because it's cheaper it's -not so good.” - -“So it doesn't fit, this mantle you speak of?” resumed Madame de -Boves. “Ah! now I remember the young person. It's rather dark in your -ante-room.” - -“Yes,” added Madame Marty, “I was wondering where I had seen that -figure. Well, go, my dear, don't stand on ceremony with us.” - -Henriette assumed a look of disdainful unconcern. “Oh, presently, there -is no hurry.” - -The ladies continued to discuss the articles from the big shops. Then -Madame de Boves spoke of her husband, who, she said, had gone to inspect -the breeding depot at Saint-Lô; and just then Henriette was relating -that through the illness of an aunt Madame Guibal had been suddenly -called into Franche-Comté. Moreover, she did not reckon that day on -Madame Bourdelais, who at the end of every month shut herself up with -a needlewoman to look over her young people's under-linen. But Madame -Marty seemed agitated with some secret trouble. Her husband's position -at the Lycée Bonaparte was menaced, in consequence of lessons given by -the poor man in certain doubtful institutions where a regular trade was -carried on with the B.A. diplomas; the poor fellow picked up a pound -where he could, feverishly, in order to meet the ruinous expenses which -pillaged his household; and his wife, on seeing him weeping one evening -in the fear of a dismissal, had conceived the idea of getting her friend -Henriette to speak to a director at the Ministry of Public Instruction -with whom she was acquainted. Henriette finished by quieting her with a -few words. It was understood that Monsieur Marty was coming himself to -know his fate and to thank her. - -“You look ill, Monsieur Mouret,” observed Madame de Boves. - -“Overwork!” repeated De Vallagnosc, with his ironical phlegm. - -Mouret quickly got up, as if ashamed at forgetting himself thus. He went -and took his accustomed place in the midst of the ladies, summoning up -all his agreeable talent. He was now occupied with the winter novelties, -and spoke of a considerable arrival of lace; and Madame de Boves -questioned him as to the price of Bruges lace: she felt inclined to buy -some. She had now got so far as to economise the thirty-sous for a -cab, often going home quite ill from the effects of stopping before the -windows. Draped in a mantle which was already two years old she tried, -in imagination, on her queenly shoulders all the dearest things she saw; -and it was like tearing her flesh away when she awoke and found herself -dressed in her patched, old dresses, without the slightest hope of ever -satisfying her passion. - -“Baron Hartmann,” announced the man-servant. - -Henriette observed with what pleasure Mouret shook hands with the new -arrival. The latter bowed to the ladies and looked at the young man with -that subtle expression which sometimes illumined his big Alsatian face. - -“Always plunged in dress!” murmured he, with a smile. Then, like a -friend of the house, he ventured to add, “There's a charming young girl -in the ante-room. Who is it?” - -“Oh, nobody,” replied Madame Desforges, in her ill-natured voice. “Only -a shop-girl waiting to see me.” - -But the door remained half open, the servant was bringing in the tea. -He went out, came in again, placed the china service on the table, -then some plates of sandwiches and biscuits. In the vast room, a bright -light, softened by the green plants, illuminated the brass-work, bathing -the silk hangings in a tender flame; and each time the door was opened -one could perceive an obscure corner of the ante-room, which was only -lighted by two ground-glass windows. There, in the darkness, appeared a -sombre form, motionless and patient. It was Denise, still standing up; -there was a leather-covered form there, but a feeling of pride prevented -her sitting down on it. She felt the insult keenly. She had been there -for the last half-hour, without a gesture, without a word. The ladies -and the baron had taken stock of her in passing; she could now hear the -voices from the drawingroom. All this amiable luxury wounded her with -its indifference, and still she did not move. Suddenly, through the -half-open door, she perceived Mouret, and he, on his side, had at last -guessed it to be her. - -“Is it one of your saleswomen?” asked Baron Hartmann. - -Mouret had succeeded in concealing his great agitation; but his voice -trembled somewhat with emotion: “No doubt; but I don't know which.” - -“It's the little fair girl from the ready-made department,” replied -Madame Marty, obligingly, “the second-hand, I believe.” - -Henriette looked at Mouret in her turn. - -“Ah!” said he, simply. - -And he tried to change the conversation, speaking of the fêtes given to -the King of Prussia then passing through Paris. But the baron returned -maliciously to the young ladies in the big establishments. He affected -to be desirous of gaining information, and put several questions: Where -did they come from in general? Was their conduct as bad as it was said -to be? Quite a discussion ensued. - -“Really,” he repeated, “you think them well behaved.” - -Mouret defended their virtue with a conviction which made De Vallagnosc -smile. Bouthemont then interfered, to save his chief. Of course there -were some of all sorts, bad and good. Formerly they had nothing but -the refuse of the trade, a poor, vague class of girls drifted into the -drapery business; whilst now, such respectable families as those living -in the Rue de Sèvres, for instance, positively brought up their girls -for the Bon Marche. In short, when they liked to conduct themselves -well, they could, for they were not, like the work-girls of Paris, -obliged to board and lodge themselves; they had bed and board, their -existence was provided for, an existence excessively hard, no doubt. -The worst of all was their neutral, badly-defined position, between the -shop-woman and the lady. Thrown into the midst of luxury, often without -any previous instruction, they formed a singular, nameless class. Their -misfortunes and vices sprung from that. - -“I,” said Madame de Boves, “I don't know any creatures more -disagreeable. Really, one could slap them sometimes.” - -And the ladies vented their spite. They devoured each other before the -shop-counters; it was a question of woman against woman in the sharp -rivalry of money and beauty. It was an ill-natured jealousy felt by the -saleswomen towards the well-dressed customers, the ladies whose manners -they tried to imitate, and a still stronger feeling on the part of the -poorly-dressed customers, the lower-class ones, against the saleswomen, -those girls dressed in silk, from whom they would have liked to exact a -servant's humility when serving a ten sou purchase. - -“Don't speak of them,” said Henriette, by way of conclusion, “a wretched -lot of beings ready to sell themselves the same as their goods.” - -[Illustration: 0423] - -Mouret had the strength to smile. The baron was looking at him, so -touched by his graceful command over himself that he changed the -conversation, returning to the fêtes to be given to the King of Prussia, -saying they would be superb, the whole trade of Paris would profit by -them. Henriette remained silent and thoughtful, divided between the -desire to forget Denise in the ante-room, and the fear that Mouret, now -aware of her presence, might go away. At last she quitted her chair. - -“You will allow me?” - -“Certainly, my dear,” replied Madame Marty. “I'll do the honours of the -house for you.” - -She got up, took the teapot, and filled the cups. Henriette turned -towards Baron Hartmann, saying: “You'll stay a few minutes, won't you?” - -“Yes; I want to speak to Monsieur Mouret. We are going to invade your -little drawing-room.” - -She went out, and her black silk dress, rustling against the door, -produced a noise like that of a snake wriggling through the brushwood. -The baron at once manoeuvred to carry Mouret off, leaving the ladies to -Bouthemont and De Vallagnosc. Then they stood talking before the window -of the other room in a low tone. It was quite a fresh affair. For a long -time Mouret had cherished a desire to realise his former project, -the invasion of the whole block by The Ladies' Paradise, from the -Rue Monsigny to the Rue de la Michodière and from the Rue -Neuve-Saint-Augustin to the Rue du Dix-Décembre. There was still a vast -piece of ground, in the latter street, remaining to be acquired, and -that sufficed to spoil his triumph, he was tortured with the desire to -complete his conquest, to erect there a sort of apotheosis, a monumental -façade. As long as his principal entrance should remain in the Rue -Neuve-Saint-Augustin, in a dark street of old Paris, his work would be -incomplete, wanting in logic. He wished to set it up before new Paris, -in one of these modern avenues through which passed the busy crowd -of the latter part of the nineteenth century. He saw it dominating, -imposing itself as the giant palace of commerce, casting a greater -shadow over the city than the old Louvre itself. But up to the present -he had been baulked by the obstinacy of die Crédit Immobilier, which -still held to its first idea of building a rival to the Grand Hôtel on -this land. The plans were ready, they were only waiting for the clearing -of the Rue du Dix-Décembre to commence the work. At last, by a supreme -effort, Mouret had almost convinced Baron Hartmann. - -“Well!” commenced the latter, “we had a board-meeting yesterday, and I -came to-day, thinking I should meet you, and being desirous of keeping -you informed. They still resist.” The young man gave way to a nervous -gesture. “But it's ridiculous. What do they say?” - -“Dear me! they say what I have said to you myself, and what I am still -inclined to think. Your façade is only an ornament, the new buildings -would only extend by about a tenth the surface of your establishment, -and it would be throwing away immense sums on a mere advertisement.” - -At this Mouret burst out “An advertisement! an advertisement! In any -case this will be in stone and outlive all of us. Just consider that it -would increase our business tenfold! We should see our money back in -two years. What matters about what you call the wasted ground, if this -ground returns you an enormous interest! You will see the crowd, -when our customers are no longer obliged to struggle through the Rue -Neuve-Saint-Augustin, but can freely pass down a thoroughfare large -enough for six carriages abreast.” - -“No doubt,” replied the baron, laughing. “But you are a poet in your -way, let me tell you once more. These gentlemen think it would be -dangerous to further extend your business.' They want to be prudent for -you.” - -“What do they mean? Prudent! I don't understand. Don't the figures show -the constant progression of our business? At first, with a capital -of five hundred thousand francs, I did business to the extent of two -millions, turning the capital over four times. It then became four -million francs, which, turned over ten times, has produced business to -the extent of forty millions. In short, after successive increases, -I have just learnt, from the last stock-taking, that the amount of -business done now amounts to a total of eighty millions; thus -the capital, only slightly increased--for it does not exceed six -millions--has passed over our counters in the form of more than twelve -times.” - -He raised his voice, tapping the fingers of his right hand on the palm -of his left hand, knocking down these millions as he would have cracked -a few nuts. The baron interrupted him. - -“I know, I know. But you don't hope to keep on increasing in this way, -do you?” - -“Why not?” asked Mouret, ingenuously. “There's no reason why it should -stop. The capital can be turned over as often as fifteen times. I -predicted as much long ago. In certain departments it can be turned over -twenty-five or thirty times. And after? well! after, we'll find a means -of turning it over more than that.” - -“So you'll finish by drinking up all the money in Paris, as you'd drink -a glass of water?” - -“Most decidedly. Doesn't Paris belong to the women, and don't the women -belong to us?” - -The baron laid his hands on Mouret's shoulders, looking at him with a -paternal air. “Listen, you're a fine fellow, and I am really fond of -you. There's no resisting you. We'll go into the matter seriously, and I -hope to make them listen to reason. Up to the present, we are perfectly -satisfied with you. Your dividends astonish the Bourse. You must be -right; it will be better to put more money into your business, than to -risk this competition with the Grand Hôtel, which is hazardous.” - -Mouret's excitement subsided at once; he thanked the baron, but without -any of his usual enthusiasm; and the latter saw him turn his eyes -towards the door of the next room, again seized with the secret -anxiety which he was concealing. However, De Vallagnosc had come up, -understanding that they had finished talking business. He stood close to -them, listening to the baron, who was murmuring with the gallant air of -an old man who had seen life: - -“I say, I fancy they're taking their revenge.” - -“Who?” asked Mouret, embarrassed. - -“Why, the women. They're getting tired of belonging to you; you now -belong to them, my dear fellow; it's only just!” He joked him, well -aware of the young man's notorious love affairs: the mansion bought -for the actress, the enormous sums squandered with girls picked up in -private supper rooms, amused him as an excuse for the follies he had -formerly committed himself. His old experience rejoiced. - -“Really, I don't understand,” repeated Mouret. - -“Oh! you understand well enough. They always get the last word. In fact, -I said to myself: It isn't possible, he's boasting he can't be so strong -as that! And there you are! Bleed the women, work them as you would a -coal mine, and what for? In order that they may work you afterwards, and -force you to refund at last! Take care, for they'll draw more blood and -money from you than you have ever sucked from them.” - -He laughed louder still; and De Vallagnosc was also grinning, without, -however, saying a word. - -“Dear me! one must have a taste of everything,” confessed Mouret, at -last, pretending to laugh as well. “Money is so stupid, if it isn't -spent.” - -“As for that, I agree with you,” resumed the baron. “Enjoy yourself, my -dear fellow, I'll not be the one to preach to you, nor to tremble for -the great interests we have confided to your care. Every one must sow -his wild oats, and his head is generally clearer afterwards. Besides, -there's nothing unpleasant in ruining one's self when one feels capable -of building up another fortune. But if money is nothing, there are -certain sufferings----” - -He stopped, his smile became sad, former sufferings presented themselves -amid the irony of his scepticism. He had watched the duel between -Henriette and Mouret with the curiosity of one who still felt greatly -interested in other people's love battles; and he felt that the crisis -had arrived, he guessed the drama, well acquainted with the story of -this Denise, whom he had seen in the ante-room. - -“Oh! as for suffering, that's not in my line,” said Mouret, in a tone of -bravado. “It's quite enough to pay.” - -The baron looked at him for a moment without speaking. Without wishing -to insist on his discreet allusion he added, slowly--“Don't make -yourself worse than you are! You'll lose something else besides your -money at that game. Yes, you'll lose a part of yourself, my dear -fellow.” He stopped, again laughing, to ask, “That often happens, -doesn't it, Monsieur de Vallagnosc?” - -“So they say, baron,” the young man simply replied. - -Just at this moment the door was opened. Mouret, who was going to reply, -slightly started. The three men turned round. It was Madame Desforges, -looking very gay, putting her head through the doorway to call, in a -hurried voice-- - -“Monsieur Mouret! Monsieur Mouret!” Then, when she perceived the three -men, she added, “Oh! you'll excuse me, won't you, gentlemen? I'm going -to take Monsieur Mouret away for a minute. The least he can do, as -he has sold me a frightful mantle, is to give me the benefit of his -experience. This girl is a stupid, without the least idea. Come, come! -I'm waiting for you.” - -He hesitated, undecided, flinching before the scene he could foresee. -But he had to obey. The baron said to him, with his air at once paternal -and mocking, “Go, my dear fellow, go, madame wants you.” - -Mouret followed her. The door closed, and he thought he could hear De -Vallagnosc's grin stifled by the hangings. His courage was entirely -exhausted. Since Henriette had quitted the drawing-room, and he knew -Denise was alone in the house in jealous hands, he had experienced a -growing anxiety, a nervous torment, which made him listen from time to -time as if suddenly startled by a distant sound of weeping. What could -this woman invent to torture her? And his whole love, this love which -surprised him even now, went out to the young girl like a support and -a consolation. Never had he loved her so strongly, with that charm so -powerful in suffering. His former affections, his love for Henriette -herself--so delicate, so handsome, the possession of whom was so -flattering to his pride--had never been more than agreeable pastimes, -frequently a calculation, in which he sought nothing but a profitable -pleasure. He used quietly to leave his mistresses and go home to bed, -happy in his bachelor liberty, without a regret or a care on his mind; -whilst now his heart beat with anguish, his life was taken, he no longer -enjoyed the forgetfulness of sleep in his great, solitary bed. Denise -was his only thought. Even at this moment she was the sole object of -his anxiety, and he was telling himself that he preferred to be there to -protect her, notwithstanding his fear of some regrettable scene with the -other one. - -At first, they both crossed the bed-room, silent and empty. Then Madame -Desforges, pushing open a door, entered the dressing-room, followed by -Mouret. It was a rather large room, hung with red silk, furnished with -a marble toilet table and a large wardrobe with three compartments and -great glass doors. As the window looked into the yard, it was already -rather dark, and the two nickel-plated gas burners on either side of the -wardrobe had been lighted. - -“Now, let's see,” said Henriette, “perhaps we shall get on better. This -girl is a stupid, without the least idea. Come, come! I'm waiting for -you.” - -On entering, Mouret had found Denise standing upright, in the middle of -the bright light. She was very pale, dressed in a cashmere jacket, and a -black hat. - -He hesitated, undecided, flinching before the scene he could foresee. -But he had to obey. The baron said to him, with his air at once paternal -and mocking, “Go, my dear fellow, go, madame wants you.” - -Mouret followed her. The door closed, and he thought he could hear De -Vallagnosc's grin stifled by the hangings. His courage was entirely -exhausted. Since Henriette had quitted the drawing-room, and he knew -Denise was alone in the house in jealous hands, he had experienced a -growing anxiety, a nervous torment, which made him listen from time to -time as if suddenly startled by a distant sound of weeping. What could -this woman invent to torture her? And his whole love, this love which -surprised him even now, went out to the young girl like a support and -a consolation. Never had he loved her so strongly, with that charm so -powerful in suffering. His former affections, his love for Henriette -herself--so delicate, so handsome, the possession of whom was so -flattering to his pride--had never been more than agreeable pastimes, -frequently a calculation, in which he sought nothing but a profitable -pleasure. He used quietly to leave his mistresses and go home to bed, -happy in his bachelor liberty, without a regret or a care on his mind; -whilst now his heart beat with anguish, his life was taken, he no longer -enjoyed the forgetfulness of sleep in his great, solitary bed. Denise -was his only thought. Even at this moment she was the sole object of -his anxiety, and he was telling himself that he preferred to be there to -protect her, notwithstanding his fear of some regrettable scene with the -other one. - -At first, they both crossed the bed-room, silent and empty. Then Madame -Desforges, pushing open a door, entered the dressing-room, followed by -Mouret. It was a rather large room, hung with red silk, furnished with -a marble toilet table and a large wardrobe with three compartments and -great glass doors. As the window looked into the yard, it was already -rather dark, and the two nickel-plated gas burners on either side of the -wardrobe had been lighted. - -“Now, let's see,” said Henriette, “perhaps we shall get on better.” - -On entering Mouret had found Denise standing upright, in the middle of -a bright light. She was very pale, modestly dressed in a cashmere jacket -with a black hat, and was holding on one arm the mantle bought at The -Ladies Paradise. When she saw the young man her hands slightly trembled. - -“I wish Monsieur Mouret to judge,” resumed Henriette. “Just help me, -mademoiselle.” - -And Denise, approaching, had to give her the mantle. She had already -placed some pins on the shoulders, the part that did not fit. Henriette -turned round to look at herself in the glass. - -“Is it possible? Speak frankly.” - -“It really is a failure, madame,” said Mouret, to cut the matter short. -“It's very simple; the young lady will take your measure, and we will -make you another.” - -“No, I want this one, I want it immediately,” resumed she, with -vivacity. “But it's too narrow across the chest, and it forms a ruck at -the back between the shoulders.” Then, in her sharpest voice, she added: -“It's no use you standing looking at me, mademoiselle, that won't make -it any better! Try and find a remedy. It's your business.” - -Denise again commenced to place the pins, without saying a word. That -went on for some time: she had to pass from one shoulder to the other, -and was even obliged to go almost on her knees, to pull the mantle down -in front. Above her placing herself entirely in Denise's hands, Madame -Desforges gave her face the harsh expression of a mistress exceedingly -difficult to please. Delighted to lower the young girl to this servant's -work, she gave her sharp and brief orders, watching for the least sign -of suffering on Mouret's face. - -“Put a pin here! No! not there, here, near the sleeve. You don't seem -to understand! That isn't it, there's the ruck showing again. Take care, -you're pricking me now!” - -Twice had Mouret vainly attempted to interfere, to put an end to this -scene. His heart was beating violently from this humiliation of his -love; and he loved Denise more than ever, with a deep tenderness, in -the presence of her admirably silent and patient attitude. If the young -girl's hands still trembled somewhat, at being treated in this way -before his face, she accepted the necessities of her position with the -proud resignation of a courageous girl. When Madame Desforges found -they were not likely to betray themselves, she tried another way, she -commenced to smile on Mouret, treating him openly as her lover. The pins -having run short, she said to him: - -“Look, my dear, in the ivory box on the dressing-table. Really! it's -empty? Kindly see on the chimney-piece in the bed-room; you know, at the -corner of the looking-glass.” - -She spoke as if he were quite at home, in the habit of sleeping there, -and knew where to find everything, even the brushes and combs. When he -brought back a few pins, she took them one by one, and forced him to -stay near her, looking at him and speaking low. - -“I don't fancy I'm hump-backed. Give me your hand, feel my shoulders, -just to please me. Am I really made like that?” - -Denise slowly raised her eyes, paler than ever, and set about placing -the pins in silence. Mouret could only see her blonde tresses, twisted -at the back of her delicate neck; but by the slight shudder which was -raising them, he thought he could perceive the uneasiness and shame of -her face. Now, she would certainly repulse him, and send him back to -this woman, who did not conceal her connection even before strangers. -Brutal thoughts came into his head, he could have struck Henriette. How -was he to stop her talk? How should he tell Denise that he adored her, -that she alone existed for him at this moment, and that he was ready to -sacrifice for her all his former affections? The worst of women would -not have indulged in the equivocal familiarities of this well-born lady. -He took his hand away, and drew back, saying: - -“You are wrong to go so far, madame, since I myself consider the garment -to be a failure.” - -One of the gas-burners was hissing, and in the stuffy, moist air of the -room, nothing else was heard but this ardent breath. The looking-glasses -threw large sheets of light on the red silk hangings, on which were -dancing the shadows of the two women. A bottle of verbena, of which the -cork had been left out, spread a vague odour, something like that of a -fading bouquet. - -“There, madame, I can do no more,” said Denise, at last, rising up. - -She felt thoroughly worn out. Twice she had run the pins in her fingers, -as if blinded, her eyes in a mist. Was he in the plot? Had he sent for -her, to avenge himself for her refusal, by showing that other women -loved him? And this thought chilled her; she never remembered to have -stood in need of so much courage, not even during the terrible hours of -her life when she wanted for bread. It was comparatively nothing to be -humiliated, but to see him almost in the arms of another woman, as if -she had not been there! Henriette looked at herself in the glass, and -once more broke out into harsh words. - -“But it's absurd, mademoiselle. It fits worse than ever. Just look how -tight it is across the chest I look like a wet nurse.” - -Denise, losing all patience, made a rather unfortunate remark. “You are -slightly stout, madame. We cannot make you thinner than you are.” - -“Stout! stout!” exclaimed Henriette, who now turned pale in her turn. -“You're becoming insolent, mademoiselle. Really, I should advise you to -criticise others!” - -They both stood looking at each other, face to face, trembling. There -was now neither lady or shop-girl. They were simply two women, made -equal by their rivalry. The one had violently taken off the mantle and -cast it on a chair, whilst the other was throwing on the dressing-table -the few pins she had in her hands. - -“What astonishes me,” resumed Henriette, “is that Monsieur Mouret should -tolerate such insolence. I thought, sir, that you were more particular -about your employees.” - -Denise had again assumed her brave, calm manner. She gently replied: -“If Monsieur Mouret keeps me, it's because he has no fault to find. I am -ready to apologise to you, if he wishes it.” - -Mouret was listening, excited by this quarrel, unable to find a word to -put a stop to it. He had a great horror of these explanations between -women, their asperity wounding his sense of elegance and gracefulness. -Henriette wished to force him to say something in condemnation of the -young girl; and, as he remained mute, still undecided, she stung him -with a final insult: - -“Very good, sir. It seems that I must suffer the insolence of your -mistresses in my own house even! A girl you've picked up out of the -gutter!” - -Two big tears gushed from Denise's eyes. She had kept them back for some -time, but her whole being succumbed beneath this last insult. When he -saw her weeping like that, without the slightest attempt at retaliation, -with a silent, despairing dignity, Mouret no longer hesitated, his heart -went out towards her in an immense burst of tenderness. He took her -hands in his and stammered: - -“Go away immediately, my child, and forget this house!” - -Henriette, perfectly amazed, choking with anger, stood looking at them. - -“Wait a minute,” continued he, folding up the mantle himself, “take this -garment away. Madame can buy another elsewhere. And pray don't cry any -more. You know how much I esteem you.” - -He went with her to the door, which he closed after her. She had not -said a word; but a pink flame had coloured her cheeks, whilst her eyes -were wet with fresh tears, tears of a delicious sweetness. Henriette, -who was suffocating, had taken out her handkerchief and was crushing -her lips with it. This was a total overthrowing of her calculations, she -herself had been caught in the trap she had laid. She was mortified with -herself for having pushed the matter too far, tortured with jealousy. -To be abandoned for such a creature as that! To see herself disdained -before her! Her pride suffered more than her love. - -“So, it's that girl that you love?” said she, painfully, when they were -alone. - -Mouret did not reply at once; he was walking about from the window to -the door, as if absorbed by some violent emotion. At last he stopped, -and very politely, in a voice which he tried to render cold, he replied -with simplicity: “Yes, madame.” - -The gas burner was still hissing in the stifling air of the -dressing-room. But the reflex of the glasses were no longer traversed -by dancing shadows, the room seemed bare, of a heavy dulness. Henriette -suddenly dropped on a chair, twisting her handkerchief in her febrile -fingers, repeating amidst her sobs: - -“Good heavens! How miserable I am!” - -He stood looking at her for several seconds, and then went away quietly. -She, left all alone, wept on in silence, before the pins scattered over -the dressing-table and the floor. - -When Mouret returned to the little drawing-room, he found De Vallagnosc -alone, the baron having gone back to the ladies. As he felt himself very -agitated still, he sat down at the further end of the room, on a sofa; -and his friend, seeing him turn pale, charitably came and stood before -him, to conceal him from curious eyes. At first, they looked at each -other without saying a word. Then De Vallagnosc, who seemed to be -inwardly amused at Mouret's confusion, finished by asking in his -bantering voice: - -“Are you still enjoying yourself?” - -Mouret did not appear to understand him at first. But when he remembered -their former conversations on the empty stupidity and the useless -torture of life, he replied: “Of course, I've never before lived so -much. Ah! my boy, don't you laugh, the hours that make one die of -grief are by far the shortest.” He lowered his voice, continuing gaily, -beneath his half-wiped tears: “Yes, you know all, don't you? Between -them they have rent my heart. But yet it's nice, as nice as kisses, the -wounds they make. I am thoroughly worn out; but, no matter, you can't -think how I love life! Oh! I shall win her at last, this little girl who -still says no!” - -De Vallagnosc simply said: “And after?” - -“After? Why, I shall have her! Isn't that enough? If you think yourself -strong, because you refuse to be stupid and to suffer, you make a great -mistake! You are merely a dupe, my boy, nothing more! Try and long for -a woman and win her at last: that pays you in one minute for all your -misery,” But De Vallagnosc once more trotted out his pessimism. What was -the good of working so much if money could not buy everything? He would -very soon have shut up shop and given up work for ever, the day he found -out that his millions could not even buy the woman he wanted! Mouret, -listening to him, became grave. Then he set off violently, he believed -in the all-powerfulness of his will. - -“I want her, and I'll have her! And if she escapes me, you'll see what -a place I shall have built to cure myself. It will be splendid, all the -same. You don't understand this language, old man, otherwise you would -know that action contains its own recompense. To act, to create, to -struggle against facts, to overcome them or be overthrown by them, all -human health and joy consists in that!” - -“Simple method of diverting one's self,” murmured the other. - -“Well, I prefer diverting myself. As one must die, I would rather die of -passion than boredom!” - -They both laughed, this reminded them of their old discussions at -college. De Vallagnosc, in an effeminate voice, then commenced to parade -his theories of the insipidity of things, investing with a sort of -fanfaronade the immobility and emptiness of his existence. Yes, he -dragged on from day to day at the office, in three years he had had -a rise of six hundred francs; he was now receiving three thousand six -hundred, barely enough to pay for his cigars; it was getting worse than -ever, and if he did not kill himself, it was simply from a dislike of -all trouble. Mouret having spoken of his marriage with Mademoiselle -de Boves, he replied that notwithstanding the obstinacy of the aunt -in refusing to die, the matter was going to be concluded; at least, he -thought so, the parents were agreed, and he was ready to do anything -they might tell him to do. What was the use of wishing or not wishing, -since things never turned out as one desired? He quoted as an example -his future father-in-law, who expected to find in Madame Guibal an -indolent blonde, the caprice of an hour, but who was now led by her with -a whip, like an old horse on its last legs. Whilst they supposed him to -be busy inspecting the stud at Saint-Lo, she was squandering his last -resources in a little house hired by him at Versailles.' - -“He's happier than you,” said Mouret, getting up. - -“Oh! rather!” declared De Vallagnosc. “Perhaps it's only doing wrong -that's somewhat amusing.” - -Mouret had now recovered his spirits. He was thinking about getting -away; but not wishing his departure to resemble a flight he resolved to -take a cup of tea, and went into the other drawing-room with his friend, -both in high spirits. The baron asked him if the mantle had been made to -fit, and Mouret replied, carelessly, that he gave it up as far as he was -concerned. They all seemed astonished. Whilst Madame Marty hastened to -serve him, Madame de Boves accused the shops of always keeping their -garments too narrow. At last, he managed to sit down near Bouthemont, -who had not stirred. They were forgotten for a moment, and, in reply to -anxious questions put by Bouthemont, desirous of knowing what he had -to say to him, Mouret did not wait to get into the street, but abruptly -informed him that the board of directors had decided to deprive -themselves of his services. Between each phrase he drank a drop of tea, -protesting all the while that he was in despair. Oh! a quarrel that he -had not even then got over, for he had left the meeting beside himself -with rage. But what could he do? he could not break with these gentlemen -about a simple question of staff. Bouthemont, very pale, had to thank -him once more. - -“What a terrible mantle,” observed Madame Marty. “Henriette can't get -over it.” - -And really, this prolonged absence began to make every one feel awkward. -But, at that very moment, Madame Desforges appeared. - -“So you've given it up as well?” cried Madame de Boves, gaily. - -“How do you mean?” - -“Why, Monsieur Mouret told us you could do nothing with it.” - -Henriette affected the greatest surprise. “Monsieur Mouret was joking. -The mantle will fit splendidly.” - -They had again returned to the big shops. Mouret had to give his -opinion; he came up to them and affected to be very just The Bon Marche -was an excellent house, solid, respectable, but the Louvre certainly had -a more aristocratic class of customers. - -“In short, you prefer The Ladies' Paradise,” said the baron, smiling. - -“Yes,” replied Mouret, quietly. “There we really love our customers.” - -All the women present were of his opinion. It was just that, they were -at a sort of private party at The Ladies' Paradise, they felt, there a -continual caress of flattery, an overflowing adoration which detained -the most dignified and virtuous woman. The enormous success of the -establishment sprung from this gallant seduction. - -“By the way,” asked Henriette, who wished to appear entirely at -her ease, “what have you done with my protege. Monsieur Mouret? You -know--Mademoiselle de Fontenailles.” And turning towards Madame Marty -she explained, “A maricheness, poor girl, fallen into poverty.” - -“Oh!” said Mouret, “she earns three francs a day stitching.” - -De Vallagnosc wished to interfere for a joke. “Don't push him too far, -madame, or he'll tell you that all the old families of France ought to -sell calico.” - -“Well,” declared Mouret, “it would at least be an honourable end for a -great many of them.” - -They set up a laugh, the paradox seemed rather strong. He continued to -sing the praises of what he called the aristocracy of work. A slight -flush had coloured Madame de Boves's cheeks, she was wild at the shifts -she was put to by her poverty; whilst Madame Marty on the contrary -approved, stricken with remorse on thinking of her poor husband. The -footman had just ushered in the professor, who had called to take her -home. He was drier, more emaciated than ever by his hard labour, and -still wore his thin shining frock coat. When he had thanked Madame -Desforges for having spoken for him at the Ministry, he cast at Mouret -the timid glance of a man meeting the evil that is to kill him. And he -was quite confused when he heard the latter asking him: - -“Isn't it true, sir, that work leads to everything?” - -“Work and economy,” replied he, with a slight shivering of his whole -body. “Add economy, sir.” - -Meanwhile, Bouthemont had not moved from his chair, Mouret's words -were still ringing in his ears. He at last got up, and went and said -to Henriette in a low tone: “You know, he's given me notice; oh! in the -kindest possible manner. But may I be hanged if he sha'n't repent it! -I've just found my sign, The Four Seasons, and shall plant myself close -to the Opera House!” - -She looked at him with a gloomy expression. “Reckon on me, I'm with you. -Wait a minute.” And she immediately drew Baron Hartmann into the recess -of a window, and boldly recommended Bouthemont to him, as a fellow -who was going to revolutionise Paris, in his turn, by setting up for -himself. When she spoke of an advance of funds for her new protegee, the -baron, though now astonished at nothing, could not suppress a gesture of -bewilderment. This was the fourth fellow of genius she had confided to -him, and he began to feel himself ridiculous. But he did not directly -refuse, the idea of starting a competitor to The Ladies' Paradise even -pleased him somewhat; for he had already invented, in banking matters, -this sort of competition, to keep off others. Besides, the adventure -amused him, and he promised to look into the matter. - -“We must talk it over to-night,” whispered Henriette, returning to -Bouthemont. “Don't fail to call about nine o'clock. The baron is with -us.” - -At this moment the vast room was foil of voices. Mouret still standing -up, in the midst of the ladies, had recovered his habitual elegant -gracefulness, and was gaily defending himself from the charge of ruining -them in dress, offering to prove by the figures that he enabled them -to save thirty per cent on their purchases. Baron Hartmann watched him, -seized with the fraternal admiration of a former man about town. Come! -the duel was finished, Henriette was decidedly beaten, she certainly was -not the coming woman. And he thought he could see the modest profile of -the young girl whom he had observed on passing through the ante-room. -She was there, patient, alone, redoubtable in her sweetness. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -It was on the 25th of September that the building of the new façade -of The Ladies' Paradise was commenced. Baron Hartmann, according to his -promise, had had the matter settled at the last general meeting of -the Crédit Immobilier. And Mouret was at length going to enjoy the -realisation of his dreams; this façade, about to arise in the Rue du -Dix-Décembre, was like the very blossoming of his fortune. He wished, -therefore, to celebrate the laying of the first stone, to make a -ceremony of the work, and he distributed gratuities amongst his -employees, and gave them game and champagne for dinner in the evening. -Every one noticed his wonderfully good humour during the ceremony, his -victorious gesture as he laid the first stone, with a flourish of the -trowel. For weeks he had been anxious, agitated by a nervous torment -that he did not always succeed in concealing; and his triumph served -as a respite, a distraction in his suffering. During the afternoon he -seemed to have returned to his former healthy gaiety. But, after dinner, -when he went through the refectory to drink a glass of champagne with -his staff, he appeared feverish again, smiling with a painful look, his -features drawn up by the unavowed pain that was devouring him. He was -once more mastered by it. - -The next day, in the ready-made department, Clara tried to be -disagreeable with Denise. She had noticed Colomban's bashful passion, -and took it into her head to joke about the Baudus. As Marguerite was -sharpening her pencil while waiting for customers, she said to her, in a -loud voice: - -“You know my lover opposite. It really grieves me to see him in that -dark shop, where no one ever enters.” - -“He's not so badly off,” replied Marguerite, “he's going to marry the -governor's daughter.” - -“Oh! oh!” replied Clara, “it would be good fun to lead him astray, then! -I'll try the game on, my word of honour!” And she continued in the -same strain, happy to feel Denise was shocked. The latter forgave her -everything else; but the idea of her dying cousin Geneviève, finished -by this cruelty, threw her into an indignant rage. At that moment a -customer came in, and as Madame Aurélie had just gone downstairs, she -took the direction of the counter, and called Clara. - -“Mademoiselle Prunaire, you had better attend to this lady instead of -gossiping there.” - -“I wasn't gossiping.” - -“Have the kindness to hold your tongue, and attend to this lady -immediately.” - -Clara gave in, conquered. When Denise showed her authority, quietly, -without raising her voice, not one of them resisted. She had acquired -absolute authority by her very moderation and sweetness. For a moment -she walked up and down in silence, amidst the young ladies, who had -become very serious. Marguerite had resumed sharpening her pencil, the -point of which was always breaking. She alone continued to approve of -Denise's resistance to Mouret, shaking her head, not acknowledging -the baby she had had, but declaring that if they had any idea of the -consequences of such a thing, they would prefer to remain virtuous. - -“What! you're getting angry?” said a voice behind Denise. - -It was Pauline, who was crossing the department. She had noticed the -scene, and spoke in a low tone, smiling. - -“But I'm obliged to,” replied Denise in the same tone, “I can't manage -them otherwise.” - -Pauline shrugged her shoulders. “Nonsense, you can be queen over all of -us whenever you like.” - -She was still unable to understand her friend's refusal. Since the end -of August, Pauline had been married to Baugé, a most stupid affair, -she would sometimes gaily remark. The terrible Bourdoncle treated her -anyhow, now, considering her as lost for trade. Her only terror was that -they might one fine day send them to love each other elsewhere, for -the managers had decreed love to be execrable and fatal to business. -So great was her fear, that, when she met Baugé in the galleries, -she affected not to know him. She had just had a fright--old Jouve had -nearly caught her talking to her husband behind a pile of dusters. - -“See! he's followed me,” added she, after having hastily related the -adventure to Denise. “Just look at him scenting me out with his big -nose!” - -Jouve, in fact, was then coming from the lace department, correctly -arrayed in a white tie, his nose on the scent for some delinquent. -But when he saw Denise he assumed a knowing air, and passed by with an -amiable smile. - -“Saved!” murmured Pauline. “My dear, you made him swallow that! I say, -if anything should happen to me, you would speak for me, wouldn't you! -Yes, yes, don't put on that astonished air, we know that a word from you -would revolutionise the house.” - -And she ran off to her counter. Denise had blushed, troubled by these -amicable allusions. It was true, however. She had a vague sensation of -her power by the flatteries with which she was surrounded. When Madame -Aurélie returned, and found the department quiet and busy under the -surveillance of the second-hand, she smiled at her amicably. She threw -over Mouret himself, her amiability increased daily for this young girl -who might one fine morning desire her situation as first-hand. Denise's -reign was commencing. - -Bourdoncle alone still stood out. In the secret war which he continued -to carry on against the young girl, there was in the first place a -natural antipathy, he detested her for her gentleness and her charm. -Then he fought against her as a fatal influence which would place -the house in peril the day when Mouret should succumb. The governor's -commercial genius seemed bound to sink amidst this stupid affection: -what they had gained by women would be swallowed up by this woman. None -of them touched his heart, he treated them with the disdain of a man -without passion, whose trade is to live on them, and who had had his -last illusions dispelled by seeing them too closely in the miseries of -his traffic. Instead of intoxicating him, the odour of these seventy -thousand customers gave him frightful headaches: and so soon as he -reached home he beat his mistresses. And what made him especially -anxious in the presence of this little saleswoman, who had gradually -become so redoubtable, was that he did not in the least believe in her -disinterestedness, in the genuineness of her refusals. For him she was -playing a part, the most skilful of parts; for if she had yielded at -once, Mouret would doubtless have forgotten her the next day; whilst by -refusing, she had goaded his desires, rendering him mad, capable of any -folly. An artful jade, a woman learned in vice, would not have acted any -different to this pattern of innocence. - -Thus Bourdoncle could never catch sight of her, with her clear eyes, -sweet face, and simple attitude, without being seized with a real fear, -as if he had before him some disguised female flesh-eater, the sombre -enigma of woman, Death in the guise of a virgin. In what way could he -confound the tactics of this false novice? He was now only anxious to -penetrate her artful ways, in the hope of exposing them to the light of -day. She would certainly commit some fault, he would surprise her with -one of her lovers, and she should again be dismissed. The house would -then resume its regular working like a well wound-up machine. - -“Keep a good look-out, Monsieur Jouve,” repeated Bourdoncle to the -inspector. “I'll take care that you shall be rewarded.” - -But Jouve was somewhat lukewarm, he knew something about women, and was -asking himself whether he had not better take the part of this young -girl, who might be the future sovereign mistress of the place. Though he -did not now dare to touch her, he still thought her bewitchingly pretty. -His colonel in bygone days had killed himself for a similar little -thing, with an insignificant face, delicate and modest, one look from -whom ravaged all hearts. - -“I do,” replied he. “But, on my word, I cannot discover anything.” - -And yet stories were circulating, there was quite a stream of abominable -tittle-tattle running beneath the flattery and respect Denise felt -arising around her. The whole house now declared that she had formerly -had Hutin for a lover; no one could swear that the intimacy still -continued, but they were suspected of meeting from time to time. Deloche -also was said to sleep with her, they were continually meeting in dark -corners, talking for hours together. It was quite a scandal! - -“So, nothing about the first-hand in the silk department, nor about the -young man in the lace one?” asked Bourdoncle. - -“No, sir, nothing yet,” replied the inspector. - -It was with Deloche especially that Bourdoncle expected to surprise -Denise. One morning he himself had caught them laughing together -downstairs. In the meantime, he treated her on a footing of perfect -equality, for he no longer disdained her, he felt her to be strong -enough to overthrow even him, notwithstanding his ten years' service, if -he lost the game. - -“Keep your eye on the young man in the lace department,” concluded he -each time. “They are always together. If you catch them, call me, I'll -manage the rest.” - -Mouret, however, was living in anguish. Was it possible that this child -could torture him in this manner? He could always recall her arriving at -The Ladies' Paradise, with her big shoes, thin black dress, and savage -airs. She stammered, they all used to laugh at her, he himself had -thought her ugly at first. Ugly! and now she could have brought him on -his knees by a look, he thought her nothing less than an angel! Then she -had remained the last in the house, repulsed, joked at, treated by him -as a curious specimen of humanity. For months he had wanted to see how -a girl sprung up, and had amused himself at this experiment, without -understanding that he was risking his heart. She, little by little grew -up, became redoubtable. Perhaps he had loved her from the first moment, -even at the time he thought he felt nothing but pity for her. And yet he -had only really begun to feel this love the evening of their walk under -the chestnut trees of the Tuileries. His life started from there, he -could still hear the laughing of a group of little girls, the distant -fall of a jet of water, whilst in the warm shade she walked on beside -him in silence. After that he knew no more, his fever had increased hour -by hour; all his blood, his whole being, in fact, was sacrificed. And -for such a child--was it possible? When she passed him now, the slight -wind from her dress seemed so powerful that he staggered. - -For a long time he had struggled, and even now he frequently became -indignant, endeavouring to extricate himself from this idiotic -possession. What secret had she to be able to bind him in this way? Had -he not seen her without boots? Had she not been received almost out of -charity? He could have understood it had it been a question of one of -those superb creatures who charm the crowd, but this little girl; this -nobody! She had, in short, one of those insignificant faces which excite -no remark. She could not even be very intelligent, for he remembered her -bad beginning as a saleswoman. But, after every explosion of anger, he -had experienced a relapse of passion, like a sacred terror at having -insulted his idol. She possessed everything that renders a woman -good--courage, gaiety, simplicity; and there exhaled from her -gentleness, a charm of a penetrating, perfume-like subtlety. One might -at first ignore her, or elbow her like any other girl; but the charm -soon began to act, with a slow invincible force; one belonged to her for -ever, if she deigned to smile. Everything then smiled in her white face, -her pretty eyes, her cheeks and chin full of dimples; whilst her heavy -blonde hair seemed to light up also, with a royal and conquering beauty. -He acknowledged himself vanquished; she was as intelligent as she was -beautiful, her intelligence came from the best part of her being. Whilst -the other saleswomen had only a superficial education, the varnish which -scales off from girls of that class, she, without any false elegance, -retained her native grace, the savour of her origin. The most complete -commercial ideas sprang up from her experience, under this narrow -forehead, the pure lines of which clearly announced the presence of a -firm will and a love of order. And he could have clasped his hands to -ask her pardon for having blasphemed her during his hours of revolt. - -Why did she still refuse with such obstinacy. Twenty times had he -entreated her, increasing his offers, offering money and more money. -Then, thinking she must be ambitious, he had promised to appoint her -first-hand, as soon as there should be a vacant department And she -refused, and still she refused Î For him it was a stupor, a struggle -in which his desire became enraged. Such an adventure appeared to him -impossible, this child would certainly finish by yielding, for he had -always regarded a woman's virtue as a relative matter. He could see no -other object, everything disappeared before this necessity: to have -her at last in his room, to take her on his knees, and, kiss her on her -lips; and at this vision, the blood of his veins ran quick and strong, -he trembled, distracted by his own powerlessness. - -His days now passed in the same grievous obsession, Denise's image rose -with him; after having dreamed of her all night, it followed him before -the desk in his office, where he signed his bills and orders from nine -to ten o'clock: a work which he accomplished mechanically, never ceasing -to feel her present, still saying no, with her quiet air. Then, at ten -o'clock, came the board-meeting, a meeting of the twelve directors, at -which he had to preside; they discussed matters affecting the in-door -arrangements, examined the purchases, settled the window displays; and -she was still there, he heard her soft voice amidst the figures, he saw -her bright smile in the most complicated financial situations. After -the board-meeting, she still accompanied him, making with him the daily -inspection of the counters, returned with him to his office in the -afternoon, remaining close to his chair from two till four o'clock, -whilst he received a crowd of important business men, the principal -manufacturers of all France, bankers, inventors; a continual come-and-go -of the riches and intelligence of the land, an excited dance of -millions, rapid interviews during which were hatched the biggest affairs -on the Paris market. If he forgot her for a moment whilst deciding -on the ruin or the prosperity of an industry, he found her again at a -twitch of his heart; his voice died away, he asked himself what was the -use of this princely fortune when she still refused. At last, when five -o'clock struck, he had to sign the day's correspondence, the mechanical -working of his hand again commenced, whilst she rose up before him more -dominating than ever, seizing him entirely, to possess him during the -solitary and ardent hours of the night. And the morrow was the same day -over again, those days so active, so full of a colossal labour, which -the slight shadow of a child sufficed to ravage with anguish. - -But it was especially during his daily inspection of the departments -that he felt his misery. To have built up this giant machine, to reign -over such a world of people, and to be dying of grief because a little -girl would not accept him! He scorned himself, dragging the fever and -shame of his pain about with him everywhere. On certain days he became -disgusted with his power, feeling a nausea at the very sight of the long -galleries. At other times he would have wished to extend his empire, and -make it so vast that she would perhaps yield out of sheer admiration and -fear. - -He first of all stopped in the basement opposite the shoot. It was still -in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin; but it had been necessary to enlarge -it, and it was now as wide as the bed of a river, down which the -continual flood of goods rolled with the loud noise of rushing water; it -was a constant succession of arrivals from all parts of the world, rows -of waggons from all railways, a ceaseless discharging of merchandise, -a stream of boxes and bales running underground, absorbed by the -insatiable establishment. He gazed at this torrent flowing into his -house, thought of his position as one of the masters of the public -fortune, that he held in his hands the fate of the French manufacturers, -and that he was unable to buy a kiss from one of his saleswomen. - -Then he passed on to the receiving department, which now occupied that -part of the basement running along the Rue Monsigny. Twenty tables were -ranged there, in the pale light of the air-holes; dozens of shopmen were -bustling about, emptying the cases, checking the goods, and marking them -in plain figures, amidst the roar of the shoot, which almost drowned -their voices. Various managers of departments stopped him, he had to -resolve difficulties and confirm orders. This cellar was filled with the -tender glimmer of the satin, the whiteness of the linen, a prodigious -unpacking in which the furs were mingled with the lace, the fancy goods -with the Eastern curtains. With a slow step he made his way amongst all -these riches thrown about in disorder, heaped up in their rough state. -Above, they were destined to ornament the window displays, letting loose -the race after money across the counters, no sooner shown than carried -off, in the furious current of business which traversed the place. He -thought of his having offered the young girl silks, velvets, anything -she liked to take in any quantities, from these enormous heaps, and that -she had refused by a shake of her fair head. - -After that, he passed on to the other end of the basement, to pay his -usual visit to the delivery department. Interminable corridors ran -along, lighted up with gas; to the right and to the left, the reserves, -closed in with gratings, were like so many subterranean stores, a -complete commercial quarter, with its haberdashery, underclothing, -glove, and other shops, sleeping in the shade. Further on was placed -one of the three stoves; further still, a fireman's post guarding -the gas-meter, enclosed in its iron cage. He found, in the delivery -department, the sorting tables already blocked with loads of parcels, -bandboxes, and cases, continually arriving in large baskets; and -Campion, the superintendent, gave him some particulars about the current -work, whilst the twenty men placed under his orders distributed the -parcels into large compartments, each bearing the name of a district of -Paris, and from whence the messengers took them up to the vans, ranged -along the pavement. One heard a series of cries, names of streets, and -recommendations shouted out; quite an uproar, an agitation such as -on board a mail boat about to start. And he stood there for a moment, -motionless, looking at this discharge of goods which he had just seen -absorbed by the house, at the opposite extremity of the basement: the -enormous current there discharged itself into the street, after having -filled the tills with gold. His eyes became misty, this colossal -business no longer had any importance; he had but one idea, that of -going away to some distant, land, and abandoning everything, if she -persisted in saying no. - -He then went upstairs, continuing his inspection, talking, and agitating -himself more and more, without finding any respite. On the second floor -he entered the correspondence department, picking quarrels, secretly -exasperated against the perfect regularity of this machine that he had -himself built up. This department was the one that was daily assuming -the most considerable importance; it now required two hundred -employees--some opening, reading, and classifying the letters coming -from the provinces and abroad, whilst others gathered into compartments -the goods ordered by the correspondents. And the number of letters was -increasing to such an extent that they no longer counted them; they -weighed them, receiving as much as a hundred pounds per day. He, -feverish, went through the three offices, questioning Levasseur as -to the weight of the correspondence; eighty pounds, ninety pounds, -sometimes, on a Monday, a hundred pounds. The figure increased daily, he -ought to have been delighted. But he stood shuddering, in the noise made -by the neighbouring squad of packers nailing down the cases. Vainly he -roamed about the house; the fixed idea remained fast in his mind, and as -his power unfolded itself before him, as the mechanism of the business -and the army of employees passed before his gaze, he felt more -profoundly than ever the insult of his powerlessness. Orders from all -Europe were flowing in, a special post-office van was required for his -correspondence; and yet she said no, always no. - -He went downstairs again, visiting the central cashier's office, where -four clerks guarded the two giants safes, in which there had passed -the previous year forty-eight million francs. He glanced at the -clearing-house, which now occupied twenty-five clerks, chosen from -amongst the most trustworthy. He went into the next office, where -twenty-five young men, junior clerks, were engaged in checking the -debit-notes, and calculating the salesmen's commission. He returned -to the chief cashier's office, exasperated at the sight of the safes, -wandering amidst these millions, the uselessness of which drove him mad. -She said no, always no. - -And it was always no, in all the departments, in the galleries, in the -saloons, and in every part of the establishment! He went from the silk -to the drapery department, from the linen to the lace department, he -ascended to the upper floors, stopping on the flying bridges, prolonging -his inspection with a maniacal, grievous minuteness. The house had grown -out of all bounds, he had created this department, then this other; he -governed this fresh domain, he extended his empire into this industry, -the last one conquered; and it was no, always no, in spite of -everything. His staff would now have sufficed to people a small town: -there were fifteen hundred salesmen, and a thousand other employees -of every sort, including forty inspectors and seventy cashiers; the -kitchens alone gave occupation to thirty-two men; ten clerks were set -apart for the advertising; there were three hundred and fifty shop -messengers, all wearing livery, and twenty-four firemen living on the -premises. And, in the stables, royal buildings situated in the Rue -Monsigny, opposite the warehouse, were one hundred and forty-five -horses, a luxurious establishment which was already celebrated in Paris. -The first four conveyances which used formerly to stir up the whole -neighbourhood, when the house occupied only the corner of the Place -Gaillon, had gradually increased to sixty-two trucks, one-horse vans, -and heavy two-horse ones. They were continually scouring Paris, driven -with knowing skill by drivers dressed in black, promenading the gold -and purple sign of The Ladies' Paradise. They even went beyond the -fortifications, into the suburbs; they were to be met on the dusty roads -of Bicêtre, along the banks of the Marne, even in the shady drives of -the Forest of Saint-Germain. Sometimes one would spring up from the -depths of some sunny avenue, where all was silent and deserted, the -superb animals trotting along, throwing into the mysterious peacefulness -of this grand nature the loud advertisement of its varnished panels. He -was even dreaming of launching them further still, into the neighbouring -departments; he would have liked to hear them rolling along every -road in France, from one frontier to the other. But he no longer even -troubled to visit his horses, though he was passionately fond of them. -Of what good was this conquest of the world, since it was no, always no? - -At present, in the evening, when he arrived at Lhomme's desk, he still -looked through habit at the amount of the takings written on a card, -which the cashier stuck on an iron file at his side; this figure rarely -fell below a hundred thousand francs, sometimes it ran up to eight and -nine hundred thousand, on big sale days; but these figures no longer -sounded in his ears like a trumpet-blast, he regretted having looked at -them, going away full of bitterness and scorn for money. - -But Mouret's sufferings were destined to increase, for he became -jealous. One morning, in the office, before the boardmeeting commenced, -Bourdoncle ventured to hint that the little girl in the ready-made -department was playing with him. - -“How?” asked he, very pale. - -“Yes! she has lovers in this very building.” - -Mouret found strength to smile. “I don't think any more about her, my -dear fellow. You can speak freely. Who are her lovers?” - -“Hutin, they say, and then a salesman in the lace department--Deloche, -that tall awkward fellow. I can't speak with certainty, never having -seen them together. But it appears that it's notorious.” - -There was a silence. Mouret affected to arrange the papers on his desk, -to conceal the trembling of his hands. At last, he observed, without -raising his head: “We must have proofs, try and bring me some proofs. As -for me, I assure you I don't, care in the least, for I'm quite sick of -her. But we can't allow such things to go on here.” - -Bourdoncle simply replied: “Never fear, you shall have proofs one of -these days. I'm keeping a good look out.” - -This news deprived Mouret of all rest. He no longer had the courage to -return to this conversation, but lived in the continual expectation of -a catastrophe, in which his heart would be crushed. And this torment -rendered him terrible, the whole house trembled before him. He now -disdained to conceal himself behind Bourdoncle, but performed the -executions in person, feeling a nervous desire for revenge, solacing -himself by an abuse of his power, of that power which could do nothing -for the contentment of his sole desire. Each one of his inspections -became a massacre, his appearance caused a panic to run along from -counter to counter. The dead winter season was just then approaching, -and he made a clean sweep in the departments, multiplying the victims -and pushing them into the streets. His first idea had been to dismiss -Hutin and Deloche; then he had reflected that if he did not keep them, -he would never discover anything; and the others suffered for them: the -whole staff trembled. In the evening, when he found himself alone again, -his eyes swelled up, big with tears. - -One day especially terror reigned supreme. An inspector had the idea -that Mignot was stealing. There were always a lot of strange-looking -girls prowling around his counter; and one of them had just been -arrested, her thighs and bosom padded with sixty pairs of gloves. From -that moment a watch was kept, and the inspector caught Mignot in the -act, facilitating the sleight of hand of a tall fair girl, formerly a -saleswoman at the Louvre, but since gone wrong: the manouvre was very -simple, he affected to try some gloves on her, waited till she had -padded herself, and then conducted her to the pay-desk, where she -paid for a single pair only. Mouret happened to be there, just at that -moment. As a rule, he preferred not to mix himself up with these sort of -adventures, which were pretty frequent; for notwithstanding the regular -working of the well-arranged machine, great disorder reigned in certain -departments of The Ladies' Paradise, and scarcely a week passed without -some employee being dismissed for theft. The authorities preferred to -hush up such matters as far as possible, considering it useless to set -the police at work, and thus expose one of the fatal plague-spots of -these great bazaars. But, that day, Mouret felt a real need of getting -angry with some one, and he treated the handsome Mignot with such -violence, and the latter stood there trembling with fear, his face pale -and discomposed. - -“I ought to call a policeman,” cried Mouret, before all the other -salesmen. “But why don't you answer? who is this woman? I swear I'll -send for the police, if you don't tell me the truth.” - -They had taken the woman away, and two saleswomen were undressing -her. Mignot stammered out: “I don't know her, sir. She's the one who -came----” - -“Don't tell lies!” interrupted Mouret, in a violent rage. “And there's -nobody here to warn us! You are all in the plot, on my word! We are in -a regular wood, robbed, pillaged, plundered. It's enough to make us have -the pockets of each one searched before going out!” - -Murmurs were heard. The three or four customers buying gloves stood -looking on, frightened. - -“Silence!” resumed he, furiously, “or I'll clear the place!” - -But Bourdoncle came running up, anxious at the idea of the scandal. -He whispered a few words in Mouret's ear, the affair was assuming an -exceptional gravity; and he prevailed on him to take Mignot into the -inspectors' office, a room on the ground floor near the entrance in the -Rue Gaillon. The woman was there, quietly putting on her stays again. -She had just mentioned Albert Lhomme's name. Mignot, again questioned, -lost his head, and commenced to sob; he wasn't in fault, it was Albert -who sent him his mistresses; at first he had merely afforded them -certain advantages, enabling them to profit by the bargains; then, when -they at last took to stealing, he was already too far compromised -to report the matter. The principals now discovered a series of -extraordinary robberies; goods taken away by girls, who went into the -neighbouring W.Cs, built near the refreshment bar and surrounded by -evergreen plants, to hide the goods under their petticoats; purchases -that a salesman neglected to call out at a pay-desk, when he accompanied -a customer there, the price of which he divided with the cashier; even -down to false returns, articles which they announced as brought back to -the house, pocketing the money thus repaid; without even mentioning the -classical robbery, parcels taken out under their coats in the evening, -rolled round their bodies, and sometimes even hung down their leg's. For -the last fourteen months, thanks to Mignot and other salesmen, no doubt, -whom they refused to name, this pilfering had been going on at Albert's -desk, quite an impudent trade, for sums of which no one ever knew the -exact total. - -Meanwhile the news had spread into the various departments, causing the -guilty consciences to tremble, and the most honest ones to quake at -the general sweep that seemed imminent. Albert had disappeared into the -inspectors' office. Next his father had passed, choking, his face full -of blood, showing signs of apoplexy. Madame Aurélie herself was then -called; and she, her head high beneath the affront, had the fat, -puffed-up appearance of a wax mask. The explanation lasted some time, -no one knew the exact details; but it was said the firsthand had -slapped her son's face, and that the worthy old father wept, whilst -the governor, contrary to all his elegant habits, swore like a trooper, -absolutely wanting to deliver the offenders up to justice. However, the -scandal was hushed up. Mignot was the only one dismissed there and then. -Albert did not disappear till two days later; no doubt his mother -had begged that the family should not be dishonoured by an immediate -execution. But the panic lasted several days longer, for after this -scene Mouret had wandered from one end of the establishment to the -other, with a terrible expression, venting his anger on all those who -dared even to raise their eyes. - -“What are you doing there, sir, looking at the flies? Go and be paid!” - -At last, the storm burst one day on the head of Hutin himself. Favier, -appointed second-hand, was undermining the first-hand, in order to -dislodge him from his position. This was always the way; he addressed -crafty reports to the directors, taking advantage of every occasion to -have the first-hand caught doing something wrong. Thus, one morning, as -Mouret was going through the silk department, he stopped, surprised to -see Favier engaged in altering the price tickets of a stock of black -velvet. - -“Why are you lowering the prices?” asked he. “Who gave you the order to -do so?” - -The second-hand, who was making a great noise over this work, as if -he wished to attract the governor's attention, foreseeing the result, -replied with an innocent, surprised air: - -“Why, Monsieur Hutin told me, sir.” - -“Monsieur Hutin! Where is Monsieur Hutin?” - -And when the latter came upstairs, called by a salesman, an animated -explanation ensued. What! he undertook to lower the prices himself now! -But he appeared greatly astonished in his turn, having merely talked -over the matter with Favier, without giving any positive orders. The -latter then assumed the sorrowful air of an employee who finds himself -obliged to contradict his superior. However, he was quite willing to -accept the blame, if it would get the latter out of a scrape. Things -began to look very bad. - -“Understand, Monsieur Hutin!” cried Mouret, “I have never tolerated -these attempts at independence. We alone decide about the prices.” - -He continued, with a sharp voice, and wounding intentions, which -surprised the salesmen, for as a rule these discussions were carried -on quietly, and the case might really have resulted from a -misunderstanding. One could feel he had some unavowed spite to satisfy. -He had at last caught that Hutin at fault, that Hutin who was said to be -Denise's lover! He could now solace himself, by making him feel that he -was the master! And he exaggerated matters, even insinuating that this -reduction of price appeared to conceal very questionable intentions. - -“Sir,” repeated Hutin, “I meant to consult you about it. It is really -necessary, as you know, for these velvets have not succeeded.” - -Mouret cut him short with a final insult. “Very good, sir; we will look -into the matter. But don't do such a thing again, if you value your -place.” - -And he walked off. Hutin, bewildered, furious, finding no one but -Favier to confide in, swore he would go and throw his resignation at the -brute's head. But he soon left off talking of going away, and began to -stir up all the abominable accusations which were current amongst the -salesmen against their chiefs. And Favier, his eye sparkling, defended -himself with a great show of sympathy. He was obliged to reply, wasn't -he? Besides, could any one have foreseen such a row for so trifling -a matter? What had come to the governor lately, that he should be so -unbearable? - -“We all know what's the matter with him,” replied Hutin, “Is it my fault -if that little jade in the dress-department is turning his head? My dear -fellow, you can see the blow comes from there. He's aware I've slept -with her, and he doesn't like it; or perhaps it's she herself who wants -to get me pitched out, because I'm in her way. But I swear she shall -hear from me, if ever she crosses my path.” - -Two days after, as Hutin was going up into the work-room, upstairs, -under the roof, to recommend a person, he started on perceiving at the -end of a passage Denise and Deloche leaning out of a window, and plunged -so deeply in private conversation that they did not even turn round. The -idea of having them caught occurred to him suddenly, when he perceived -with astonishment that Deloche was weeping. He at once went away without -making any noise; and meeting Bourdoncle and Jouve on the stairs, told -them some story about one of the _extincteurs_ the door of which seemed -to be broken; in this way they would go upstairs and drop on to the two -others. Bourdoncle discovered them first. He stopped short, and told -Jouve to go and fetch the governor, whilst he remained there. The -inspector had to obey, greatly annoyed at being forced to compromise -himself in such a matter. - -This was a lost corner of the vast world in which the people of The -Ladies' Paradise worked. One arrived there by a complication of stairs -and passages. The work-rooms occupied the top of the house, a succession -of low sloping rooms, lighted by large windows cut in the zinc roof, -furnished solely with long tables and enormous iron stoves; and right -along were a crowd of work-girls of all sorts, for the under-clothing, -the lace, the dressmaking, and the house furnishing; living winter and -summer in a stifling heat, amidst the odour special to the business; -and one had to go straight through the wing, and turn to the right -on passing the dressmakers, before coming to this solitary end of the -corridor. The rare customers, that a salesman occasionally brought -here for an order, gasped for breath, tired out, frightened, with the -sensation of having been turning round for hours and hours, and of being -a hundred leagues above the street. - -Denise had often found Deloche waiting for her. As secondhand she had -charge of the arrangements between her department and the work-room -where only the models and alterations were done, and was always going up -and down to give the necessary orders. He watched for her, inventing any -pretext to run after her; then he affected to be surprised when he met -her at the work-room door. She got to laugh about the matter, it became -quite an understood thing. The corridor ran alongside the cistern, an -enormous iron tank containing twelve thousand gallons of water; and -there was another one of equal size on the roof, reached by an iron -ladder. For an instant, Deloche would stand talking, leaning with one -shoulder against the cistern in the continual abandonment of his long -body, bent with fatigue. The noise of the water was heard, a mysterious -noise of which the iron tank ever retained the musical vibration. -Notwithstanding the deep silence, Denise would turn round anxiously, -thinking she had seen a shadow pass on the bare, yellow-painted walls. -But the window would soon attract them, they would lean out, and forget -themselves in a pleasant gossip, in endless souvenirs of their native -place. Below them, extended the immense glass roof of the central -gallery, a lake of glass bounded by the distant housetops, like a rocky -coast. Beyond, they saw nothing but the sky, a sheet of sky, which -reflected in the sleeping water of the glazed work the flight of its -clouds and the tender blue of its azure. - -It so happened that Deloche was speaking of Valognes that day. “I was -six years old; my mother took me to Valognes market in a cart. You know -it's ten miles away; we had to leave Bricquebec at five o'clock. It's a -fine country down our way. Do you know it?” - -“Yes, yes,” replied Denise, slowly, her looks lost in the distance. “I -was there once, but was very little then. Nice roads with grass on -each side, aren't there? and now and again sheep browsing in couples, -dragging their clog along by the rope.” She stopped, then resumed with -a vague smile: “Our roads run as straight as an arrow for miles between -rows of trees which afford a lot of shade. We have meadows surrounded -with hedges taller than I am, where there are horses and cows feeding. -We have a little river, and the water is very cold, under the brushwood, -in a spot I know well.” - -“It is the same with us, exactly!” cried Deloche, delighted. “There's -grass everywhere, each one encloses his plot with thorns and elms, and -is at once at home; and it's quite green, a green far different to what -we see in Paris. Dear me! what fun I've had at the bottom of the road, -to the left, coming down from the mill!” - -And their voices died away, they stopped with their eyes fixed and lost -on the sunny lake of the glazed work. A mirage rose up before them from -this blinding water, they saw an endless succession of meadows, the -Cotentin bathed in the balmy breath of the ocean, a luminous vapour, -which melted the horizon into a delicate pearly grey. Below, under the -colossal iron framework, in the silk hall, roared the business, the -trepidation of the machine at work; the entire house vibrated with the -trampling of the crowd, the bustle of the shopmen, and the life of the -thirty thousand persons elbowing each other there; and they, carried -away by their dreams, on feeling this profound and dull clamour with -which the roofs were resounding, thought they heard the wind passing -over the grass, shaking the tall trees. - -“Ah! Mademoiselle Denise,” stammered Deloche, “why aren't you kinder to -me? I love you so much!” Tears had come into his eyes, and as she tried -to interrupt him with a gesture, he continued quickly: “No--let me tell -you these things once more. We should get on so well together! People -always find something to talk about when they come from the same place.” - -He was choking, and she at last managed to say kindly: “You're -not reasonable; you promised me never to speak of that again. It's -impossible. I have a good friendship for you, because you're a nice -fellow; but I wish to remain free.” - -“Yes, yes. I know it,” replied he in a broken voice, “you don't love me. -Oh! you may say so, I quite understand it. There's nothing in me to make -you love me. Listen, I've only had one sweet moment in my life, and that -was when I met you at Joinville, do you remember? For a moment under the -trees, when it was so dark, I thought your arm trembled, and was stupid -enough to imagine----” - -But she again interrupted him. Her quick ear had just caught -Bourdoncle's and Jouve's steps at the end of the corridor. - -“Hark, there's some one coming.” - -“No,” said he, preventing her leaving the window, “it's in the cistern: -all sorts of extraordinary noises come up from it, as if there were some -one inside.” - -And he continued his timid, caressing complaints. She was no longer -listening to him, rocked into dreamland by this declaration of love, her -looks wandering over the roofs of The Ladies' Paradise. To the right -and the left of the glazed gallery, other galleries, other halls, were -glistening in the sun, between the tops of the houses, pierced with -windows and running along symmetrically, like the wings of a barracks. -Immense metallic works rose up, ladders, bridges, describing a lacework -of iron in the air; whilst the kitchen chimneys threw out an immense -volume of smoke like a factory, and the great square cistern, supported -in the air on wrought-iron pillars, assumed a strange, barbarous -profile, hoisted up to this height by the pride of one man. In the -distance, Paris was roaring. - -When Denise returned from this dreamy state, from this fanciful -development of The Ladies' Paradise, in which her thoughts floated as -in a vast solitude, she found that Deloche had seized her hand. And he -appeared so woe-begone, so full of grief, that she had not the heart to -draw it away. - -“Forgive me,” he murmured. “It's all over now; I should be quite too -miserable if you punished me by withdrawing your friendship. I -assure you I intended to say something else. Yes, I had determined to -understand the situation and be very good.” His tears again began to -flow, he tried to steady his voice. “For I know my lot in life. It is -too late for my luck to turn. Beaten at home, beaten in Paris, beaten -everywhere. I've now been here four years and am still the last in the -department So I wanted to tell you not to trouble on my account. I won't -annoy you any longer. Try to be happy, love some one else; yes, that -would really be a pleasure for me. If you are happy, I shall be also. -That will be my happiness.” - -He could say no more. As if to seal his promise he raised the young -girl's hand to his lips--kissing it with the humble kiss of a slave. She -was deeply affected, and said simply, in a tender, sisterly tone, which -attenuated somewhat the pity of the words: - -“My poor boy!” - -But they started, and turned round; Mouret was standing before them. - -For the last ten minutes, Jouve had been searching for the governor all -over the place; but the latter was looking at the works going on for the -new façade in the Rue du Dix-Décembre. He spent long hours there every -day, trying to interest himself in this work, of which he had so long -dreamed. This was his refuge against his torments, amidst the masons -laying the immense corner-stones, and the engineers setting up the -great iron framework. The façade already appeared above the level of the -street, indicating the vast porch, and the windows of the first storey, -a palace-like development in its crude state. He scaled the ladders, -discussing with the architect the ornamentation which was to be -something quite new, scrambled over the heaps of brick and iron, and -even went down into the cellar; and the roar of the steam-engine, the -tic-tac of the trowels, the noise of the hammers, the clamour of this -people of workmen, all over this immense cage surrounded by sonorous -planks, really distracted him for an instant. He came out white with -plaster, black with iron-filings, his feet splashed by the water from -the pumps, his pain so far from being cured that his anguish returned -and his heart beat stronger than ever, as the noise of the works died -away behind him. It so happened, on the day in question, a slight -distraction had restored him his gaiety, and he was deeply interested -in an album of drawings of the mosaics and enamelled terra-cottas which -were to decorate the friezes, when Jouve came up to fetch him, out of -breath, annoyed at being obliged to dirty his coat amongst all this -building material. At first Mouret had cried out that they must -wait; then, at a word spoken in a low tone by the inspector, he had -immediately followed him, shivering, a prey again to his passion. -Nothing else existed, the façade crumbled away before being built; what -was the use of this supreme triumph of his pride, if the simple name of -a woman whispered in his ear tortured him to this extent. - -Upstairs, Bourdoncle and Jouve thought it prudent to vanish. Deloche -had already run away, Denise alone remained to face Mouret, paler than -usual, but looking straight into his eyes. - -“Have the kindness to follow me, mademoiselle,” said he in a harsh -voice. - -She followed him, they descended the two storeys, and crossed the -furniture and carpet departments without saying a word. When he arrived -at his office, he opened the door wide, saying, “Walk in, mademoiselle.” - -And, closing the door, he went to his desk. The new director's office -was fitted up more luxuriously than the old one, the reps hangings had -been replaced by velvet ones, and a book-case, incrusted with ivory, -occupied one whole side; but on the walls there was still no picture but -the portrait of Madame Hédouin, a young woman with a handsome calm face, -smiling in its gold frame. - -“Mademoiselle,” said he at last, trying to maintain a cold, severe -air, “there are certain things that we cannot tolerate. Good conduct is -absolutely necessary here.” - -He stopped, choosing his words, in order not to yield to the furious -anger which was rising up within him. What! she loved this fellow, this -miserable salesman, the laughingstock of his counter! and it was the -humblest, the most awkward of all that she preferred to him, the master! -for he had seen them, she leaving her hand in his, and he covering that -hand with kisses. - -“I've been very good to you, mademoiselle,” continued he, making a fresh -effort “I little expected to be rewarded in this way.” - -Denise, immediately on entering, had been attracted by Madame Hédouin's -portrait; and, notwithstanding her great trouble, was still pre-occupied -by it. Every time she came into the director's office her eyes were sure -to meet those of this lady. She felt almost afraid of her, although -she knew her to have been very good. This time, she felt her to be a -protection. - -“You are right, sir,” he said, softly, “I was wrong to stop and talk, -and I beg your pardon for doing so. This young man comes from my part of -the country.” - -“I'll dismiss him!” cried Mouret, putting all his suffering into this -furious cry. - -And, completely overcome, entirely forgetting his position as a director -lecturing a saleswoman guilty of an infraction of the rules, he broke -out into a torrent of violent words. Had she no shame in her? a young -girl like her abandoning herself to such a being! and he even made most -atrocious accusations, introducing Hutin's name into the affair, and -then others, in such a flood of words, that she could not even defend -herself. But he would make a clean sweep, and kick them all out. The -severe explanation he had promised himself, when following Jouve, had -degenerated into the shameful violence of a scene of jealousy. - -“Yes, your lovers! They told me about it, and I was stupid enough to -doubt it But I was the only one! I was the only one!” - -Denise, suffocating, bewildered, stood listening to these frightful -charges, which she had not at first understood. Did he really suppose -her to be as bad as this? At another remark, harsher than all the rest, -she silently turned towards the door. And, in reply to a movement he -made to stop her, said: - -“Let me alone, sir, I'm going away. If you think me what you say, I will -not remain in the house another second.” - -But he rushed in front of the door, exclaiming: “Why don't you defend -yourself? Say something!” - -She stood there very stiff, maintaining an icy silence. For a long time -he pressed her with questions, with a growing anxiety; and the mute -dignity of this innocent girl once more appeared to be the artful -calculation of a woman learned in all the tactics of passion. She could -not have played a game better calculated to bring him to her feet, -tortured by doubt, desirous of being convinced. - -“Come, you say he is from your part of the country? Perhaps you've met -there formerly. Swear that there has been nothing between you and this -fellow.” - -And as she obstinately remained silent, as if still wishing to open -the door and go away, he completely lost his head, and broke out into a -supreme explosion of grief. - -“Good heavens! I love you! I love you! Why do you delight in tormenting -me like this? You can see that nothing else exists, that the people -of whom I speak only touch me through you, and you alone can occupy my -thoughts. Thinking you were jealous, I gave up all my pleasures. You -were told I had mistresses; well! I have them no longer; I hardly set -foot outside. Did I not prefer you at that lady's house? have I not -broken with her to belong solely to you? And I am still waiting for a -word of thanks, a little gratitude. And if you fear that I should return -to her, you may feel quite easy: she is avenging herself by helping one -of our former salesmen to found a rival establishment. Tell me, must I -go on my knees to touch your heart?” - -He had come to this. He, who did not tolerate the slightest peccadillo -with the shopwomen, who turned them out for the least caprice, found -himself reduced to imploring one of them not to go away, not to abandon -him in his misery. He held the door against her, ready to forgive her -everything, to shut his eyes, if she merely deigned to lie. And it was -true, he had got thoroughly sick of girls picked up at theatres and -night-houses; he had long since given up Clara and now ceased to visit -at Madame Desforges's house, where Bouthemont reigned supreme, while -waiting for the opening of the new shop, The Four Seasons, which was -already filling the newspapers with its advertisements. - -“Must I go on my knees?” repeated he, almost choked by suppressed tears. - -She stopped him, herself quite unable to conceal her emotion, deeply -affected by this suffering passion. “You are wrong, sir, to agitate -yourself in this way,” replied she, at last “I assure you that all these -wicked reports are untrue. This poor fellow you have just seen is no -more guilty than I am.” - -She said this with her brave, frank air, looking with her bright eyes -straight into his face. - -“Very good, I believe you,” murmured he. “I'll not dismiss any of your -comrades, since you take all these people under your protection. But -why, then, do you repulse me, if you love no one else?” - -A sudden constraint, an anxious bashfulness seized the young girl. - -“You love some one, don't you?” resumed he, in a trembling voice. “Oh! -you may speak out; I have no claim on your affections. Do you love any -one?” - -She turned very red, her heart was in her mouth, and she felt all -falsehood impossible before this emotion which was betraying her, this -repugnance for a lie which made the truth appear in her face in spite of -all. - -“Yes,” she at last confessed, feebly. “But I beg you to let me go away, -sir, you are torturing me.” - -She was now suffering in her turn. Was it not enough to have to defend -herself against him? Was she to be obliged to fight against herself, -against the breath of tenderness which sometimes took away all her -courage? When he spoke to her thus, when she saw him so full of emotion, -so overcome, she hardly knew why she still refused; and it was only -afterwards that she found, in the depths of her healthy, girlish nature, -the pride and the prudence which maintained her intact in her virtuous -resolution. It was by a sort of instinct of happiness that she still -remained so obstinate, to satisfy her need of a quiet life, and not -from any idea of virtue. She would have fallen into this man's arms, her -heart seduced, her flesh overpowered if she had not experienced a sort -of revolt, almost a feeling of repulsion before the definite bestowal -of her being, ignorant of her future fate. The lover made her afraid, -inspiring her with that fear that all women feel at the approach of the -male. - -Mouret gave way to a gesture of gloomy discouragement. He could not -understand her. He turned towards his desk, took up some papers and -then laid them down again, saying: “I will retain you no longer, -mademoiselle; I cannot keep you against your will.” - -“But I don't wish to go away,” replied she, smiling. “If you believe me -to be innocent, I will remain. One ought always to believe a woman to be -virtuous, sir. There are numbers who are so, I assure you.” - -Denise's eyes had involuntarily wandered towards Madame Hédouin's -portrait: that lady so wise and so beautiful, whose blood, they said, -had brought good fortune to the house. Mouret followed the young girl's -look with a start, for he thought he heard his dead wife pronounce this -phrase, one of her own sayings which he at once recognised. And it was -like a resurrection, he discovered in Denise the good sense, the just -equilibrium of her he had lost, even down to the gentle voice, sparing -of useless words. He was struck by this resemblance, which rendered him -sadder still. - -“You know I am yours,” murmured he in conclusion. “Do what you like with -me.” - -Then she resumed gaily: “That is right, sir. The advice of a woman, -however humble she may be, is always worth listening to when she has a -little intelligence. If you put yourself in my hands, be sure I'll make -nothing but a good man of you!” - -She smiled, with that simple unassuming air which had such a charm. He -also smiled in a feeble way, and escorted her as far as the door, as he -would a lady. - -The next day Denise was appointed first-hand. The dress and costume -department was divided, the management creating especially for her one -for children's costumes, which was installed close to the ready-made -one. Since her son's dismissal, Madame Aurélie had been trembling, for -she found the directors getting cool towards her, and saw the young -girl's power increasing daily. Would they not shortly sacrifice her in -favour of this latter, by taking advantage of the first pretext? Her -emperor's mask, puffed up with fat, seemed to have got thinner from the -shame which now stained the whole Lhomme dynasty; and she made a show -of going away every evening on her husband's arm, for they were brought -nearer together by misfortune, and felt vaguely that the evil came from -the disorder of their home; whilst the poor old man, more affected than -her, in a sickly fear of being himself suspected of robbery, counted -over the receipts, again and again, noisily, performing miracles with -his amputated arm. So that, when she saw Denise appointed first-hand -in the children's costume department, she experienced such joy that she -paraded the most affectionate feeling towards the young girl, really -grateful to her for not having taken her place away. And she overwhelmed -her with attentions, treating her as an equal, often going to talk -to her in the neighbouring department, with a stately air, like a -queen-mother paying a visit to a young queen. - -In fact, Denise was now at the summit. Her appointment as first-hand had -destroyed the last resistance. If some still babbled, from that itching -of the tongue which ravages every assemblage of men and women, they -bowed very low before her face. Marguerite, now second-hand, was full -of praise for her. Clara, herself, inspired with a secret respect before -this good fortune, which she felt herself incapable of achieving, had -bowed her head. But Denise's victory was more complete still over the -gentlemen; over Jouve, who now bent almost double whenever he addressed -her; over Hutin, seized with anxiety on feeling his position giving way -under him; and over Bourdoncle, reduced at last to powerlessness. When -the latter saw her coming out of the director's office, smiling, with -her quiet air, and that the next day Mouret had insisted on the board -creating this new department, he had yielded, vanquished by a sacred -terror of woman. He had always given in thus before Mouret, recognising -him to be his master, notwithstanding his escapades and his idiotic -love affairs. This time the woman had proved the stronger, and he was -expecting to be swept away by the disaster. - -However, Denise bore her triumph in a peaceable, charming manner, -happy at these marks of consideration, even affecting to see in them -a sympathy for the miseries of her debut and the final success of her -patient courage. Thus she received with a laughing joy the slightest -marks of friendship, and this caused her to be really loved by some, -she was so kind, sympathetic, and full of affection. The only person for -whom she still showed an invincible repugnance was Clara, having learned -that this girl had amused herself by taking Colomban home with her one -night as she had said she would do for a joke; and he, carried away -by his passion, was becoming more dissipated every day, whilst poor -Geneviève was slowly dying. The adventure was talked of at The Ladies' -Paradise, and thought very droll. - -But this trouble, the only one she had outside, did not in any way -change Denise's equable temper. It was especially in her department that -she was seen at her best, in the midst of her little world of babies of -all ages. She was passionately fond of children, and she could not have -been placed in a better position. Sometimes there were fully fifty girls -and as many boys there, quite a turbulent school, let loose in their -growing coquettish desires. The mothers completely lost their heads. -She, conciliating, smiling, had the little ones placed in a line, on -chairs; and when there happened to be amongst the number a rosy-cheeked -little angel, whose pretty face tempted her, she would insist on serving -her herself, bringing the dress and trying it on the child's dimpled -shoulders, with the tender precaution of an elder sister. There were -fits of laughter, cries of joy, amidst the scolding voices of the -mothers. Sometimes a little girl, already a grand lady, nine or ten -years old, having a cloth jacket to try on, would stand studying it -before a glass, turning round, with an absorbed air, her eyes sparkling -with a desire to please. The counters were encumbered with the things -unpacked, dresses in pink and blue Asian linen for children of from -one to five years, blue sailor costumes, with plaited skirt and blouse, -trimmed with fine cambric muslin, Louis XV. costumes, mantles, jackets, -a pell-mell of narrow garments, stiffened in their infantine grace, -something like the cloak-room of a regiment of big dolls, taken out of -the wardrobes and given up to pillage. Denise had always a few sweets -in her pockets, to appease the tears of some youngster in despair at -not being able to carry off a pair of red trousers; and she lived there -amongst these little ones as in her own family, feeling quite young -again herself from the contact of all this innocence and freshness -incessantly renewed around her skirts. - -She now had frequent friendly conversations with Mouret. When she -went to the office to take orders and furnish information, he kept her -talking, enjoying the sound of her voice. It was what she laughingly -called “making a good man of him.” In her prudent, cautious Norman head -there sprang up all sorts of projects, ideas about the new business -which she had already ventured to hint at when at Robineau's, and some -of which she had expressed on the evening of their walk in the Tuileries -gardens. She could not be occupied in any matter, see any work going on, -without being moved with a desire to introduce some improvement in the -mechanism. Then, since her entry into The Ladies' Paradise, she was -especially pained by the precarious position of the employees; the -sudden dismissals shocked her, she thought them iniquitous and stupid, -hurtful to all, to the house as much as to the staff. Her former -sufferings were still fresh in her mind, and her heart was seized with -pity every time she saw a new comer, her feet bruised, her eyes dim with -tears, dragging herself along in her misery in her silk dress, amidst -the spiteful persecution of the old hands. This dog's life made the best -of them bad; and the sad work of destruction commenced: all eaten up by -the trade before the age of forty, disappearing, falling into unknown -places, a great many dying in harness, some of consumption and -exhaustion, others of fatigue and bad air, a few thrown on the street, -the happiest married, buried in some little provincial shop. Was it -humane, was it just, this frightful consumption of human life that -the big shops carried on every year? And she pleaded the cause of the -wheel-work of the colossal machine, not from any sentimental reasons, -but by arguments appealing to the very interests of the employers. To -make a machine solid and strong, it is necessary to use good iron; if -the iron breaks or is broken, there is a stoppage of work, repeated -expenses of starting, quite a loss of power. - -Sometimes she would become quite animated, she would picture an immense -ideal bazaar, the phalansterium of modern commerce, in which each one -should have his exact share of the profits, according to his merits, -with the certainty of the future, assured to him by a contract Mouret -would feel amused at this, notwithstanding his fever. He accused her of -socialism, embarrassed her by pointing out the difficulties of carrying -out these schemes; for she spoke in the simplicity of her soul, bravely -trusting in the future, when she perceived a dangerous hole underlying -her tender-hearted plans. He was, however, shaken, captivated by this -young voice, still trembling from the evils endured, so convinced and -earnest in pointing out the reforms which would tend to consolidate the -house; yet he listened while joking with her; the salesmen's position -gradually improved, the wholesale dismissals were replaced by a system -of holidays granted during the dead seasons, and there was also about -to be created a sort of benefit club which would protect the employees -against bad times and ensure them a pension. It was the embryo of the -vast trades' unions of the twentieth century. - -Denise did not confine her attention solely to healing the wounds from -which she had herself bled; she conceived various delicate feminine -ideas, which, communicated to Mouret, delighted the customers. She also -caused Lhomme's happiness by supporting a scheme he had long nourished, -that of creating a band of music, in which all the executants should be -chosen from amongst the staff. Three months later Lhomme had a hundred -and twenty musicians under his direction, the dream of his whole life -was realised. And a grand fête was given on the premises, a concert and -a ball, to introduce the band of The Ladies' Paradise to the customers -and the whole world. The newspapers took the matter up, Bourdoncle -himself, frightened by these innovations, was obliged to bow before this -immense advertisement. Afterwards, a recreation room for the men was -established, with two billiard tables and backgammon and chess boards. -Then classes were held in the house of an evening; there were lessons in -English and German, in grammar, arithmetic, and geography; they even -had lessons in riding and fencing. A library was formed, ten thousand -volumes were placed at the disposal of the employees. And a resident -doctor giving consultations gratis was also added, together with baths, -and hair-dressing and refreshment saloons. Every want in life -was provided for, everything was to be obtained without going -outside--board, lodging, and clothing. The Ladies' Paradise sufficed -entirely for all its own wants and pleasures, in the very heart of -Paris, taken up by all this clatter, by this working city which was -springing up so vigorously out of the ruins of the old streets, at last -opened to the rays of the sun. - -Then a fresh movement of opinion took place in Denise's favour. As -Bourdoncle, vanquished, repeated with despair to his friends that he -would give a great deal to put Denise into Mouret's arms himself, it was -concluded that she had not yielded, that her all-powerfulness resulted -from her refusal. From that moment she became immensely popular. They -knew for what indulgences they were indebted to her, and they admired -her for the force of her will. There was one, at least, who could master -the governor, who avenged all the others, and knew how to get something -else besides promises out of him! So she had come at last, she who was -to make him treat the poor devils with a little respect! When she went -through the shop, with her delicate, self-willed head, her tender, -invincible air, the salesmen smiled at her, were proud of her, and would -willingly have exhibited her to the crowd. Denise, in her happiness, -allowed herself to be carried along by this increasing sympathy. Was it -all possible? She saw herself arrive in a poor dress, frightened, lost -amidst the mechanism of the terrible machine; for a long time she had -had the sensation of being nothing, hardly a grain of seed beneath these -millstones which were crushing a whole world; and now to-day she was the -very soul of this world, she alone was of consequence, able at a word to -increase or slacken the pace of the colossus lying at her feet. And yet -she had not wished for these things, she had simply presented herself, -without calculation, with the sole charm of her sweetness. Her -sovereignty sometimes caused her an uneasy surprise; why did they all -obey her? she was not pretty, she did nothing wrong. Then she smiled, -her heart at rest, feeling within herself nothing but goodness and -prudence, a love of truth and logic which constituted all her strength. - -One of Denise's greatest joys was to be able to assist Pauline. The -latter, being about to become a mother, was trembling, aware that -two other saleswomen in the same condition had been sent away. The -principals did not tolerate these accidents, maternity being suppressed -as cumbersome and indecent; they occasionally allowed marriage, but -would admit of no children. Pauline had, it was true, her husband in the -house; but still she felt anxious, it being almost impossible for her -to appear at the counter; and in order to postpone a probable dismissal, -she laced herself very tightly, resolved to conceal her state as long -as she could. One of the two saleswomen who had been dismissed, had just -been delivered of a still-born child, through having laced herself up -in this way; and it was not certain that she herself would recover. -Meanwhile, Bourdoncle had observed that Pauline's complexion was getting -very livid, and that she had a painfully stiff way of walking. One -morning he was standing near her, in the under-linen department, when a -messenger, taking away a bundle, ran up against her with such force that -she cried out with pain. Bourdoncle immediately took her on one side, -made her confess, and submitted the question of her dismissal to the -board, under the pretext that she stood in need of country air: the -story of this accident would spread, and would have a disastrous effect -on the public if she should have a miscarriage, as had already taken -place in the baby linen department the year before. Mouret, who was not -at the meeting, could only give his opinion in the evening. But Denise -having had time to interfere, he closed Bourdoncle's mouth, in the -interest of the house itself. Did they wish to frighten the heads of -families and the young mothers amongst their customers? And it was -decided, with great pomp, that every married saleswoman should, when in -the family way, be sent to a special midwife's as soon as her presence -at the counter became offensive to the customers. - -The next day when Denise went up into the infirmary to see Pauline, -who had been obliged to take to her bed on account of the blow she had -received, the latter kissed her violently on both cheeks. “How kind you -are! Had it not been for you I should have been turned away. Pray don't -be anxious about me, the doctor says it's nothing.” - -Baugé, who had slipped away from his department, was also there, on the -other side of the bed. He likewise stammered his thanks, troubled before -Denise, whom he now treated as an important person, of a superior class. -Ah! if he heard any more nasty remarks about her, he would soon close -the mouths of the jealous ones! But Pauline sent him away with a -good-natured shrug of the shoulders. - -“My poor darling, you're always saying something stupid. Leave us to -talk together.” - -The infirmary was a long, light room, containing twelve beds, with their -white curtains. Those who did not wish to go home to their families were -nursed here. But on the day in question, Pauline was the only occupant, -in a bed near one of the large windows which looked on to the Rue -Neuve-Saint-Augustin. And they immediately commenced to exchange -whispered words, tender confidences, in the calm air, perfumed with a -vague odour of lavender. - -“So he does just what you wish him to? How cruel you are, to make him -suffer so! Come, just explain it to me, now I've ventured to approach -the subject. Do you detest him?” Pauline had retained hold of Denise's -hand, as the latter sat near the bed, with her elbow on the bolster; and -overcome by a sudden emotion, her cheeks invaded with colour, she had -a moment of weakness at this direct and unexpected question. Her secret -escaped her, she buried her head in the pillow, murmuring: - -“I love him!” - -Pauline was astonished. “What! you love him? But it's very simple: say -yes.” - -Denise, her face still concealed, replied “No!” by an energetic shake of -the head. And she did so, simply because she loved him, without being -able to explain the matter. No doubt it was ridiculous; but she felt -like that, she could not change her nature. Her friend's surprise -increased, and she at length asked: “So it's all to make him marry you?” - -At this the young girl sprung up, quite confused: “Marry me! Oh! no! -Oh! I assure you that I have never wished for anything of the kind! No, -never has such an idea entered my head; and you know what a horror I -have of all falsehood!” - -“Well, dear,” resumed Pauline, kindly, “you couldn't have acted -otherwise, if such had been your intention. All this must come to an -end, and it is very certain that it can only finish by a marriage, as -you won't let it be otherwise. I must tell you that every one has the -same idea; yes, they feel persuaded that you are riding the high horse, -in order to make him take you to church. Dear me! what a funny girl you -are!” - -And she had to console Denise, who had again dropped her head on to the -bolster, sobbing, declaring that she would certainly go away, since they -attributed all sorts of things to her that had never crossed her mind. -No doubt, when a man loved a woman he ought to marry her. But she asked -for nothing, she had made no calculations, she simply begged to be -allowed to live quietly, with her joys and her sorrows, like other -people. She would go away. - -At the same moment Mouret was going through the premises below. He had -wanted to forget his thoughts by visiting the works once more. Several -months had elapsed, the façade now reared its monumental lines behind -the vast hoardings which concealed it from the public. Quite an army of -decorators were at work: marble-cutters, mosaic-workers, and others. The -central group above the door was being gilded; whilst on the acroteria -were being fixed the pedestals destined to receive the statues of the -manufacturing cities of France. From morning to night, in the Rue du -Dix-Décembre, lately opened to the public, a crowd of idlers stood -gaping about, their noses in the air, seeing nothing, but pre-occupied -by the marvels that were related of this façade, the inauguration of -which was going to revolutionise Paris. And it was on this feverish -working-ground, amidst the artists putting the finishing touches to the -realisation of his dream commenced by the masons, that Mouret felt more -bitterly than ever the vanity of his fortune. The thought of Denise had -suddenly arrested him, this thought which incessantly pierced him with -a flame, like the shooting of an incurable pain. He had run away, unable -to find a word of satisfaction, fearful lest he should show his tears, -leaving behind him the disgust of his triumph. This façade, which was -at last erected, seemed little in his eyes, very much like one of those -walls of sand that children build, and it might have been extended from -one end of the city to the other, elevated to the starry sky, yet it -would not have filled the emptiness of his heart, that the “yes” of a -mere child could alone fill. - -When Mouret entered his office he was almost choking with sobs. What did -she want? He dared not offer her money now; and the confused idea of a -marriage presented itself amidst his young widower's revolts. And, in -the debility of his powerlessness, his tears began to flow. He was very -miserable. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -One morning in November, Denise was giving her first orders in the -department when the Baudus' servant came to tell her that Mademoiselle -Geneviève had passed a very bad night, and wished to see her cousin -immediately. For some time the young girl had been getting weaker and -weaker, and she had been obliged to take to her bed two days before. - -“Say I am coming at once,” replied Denise, very anxious. - -The blow which was finishing Geneviève was Colomban's sudden -disappearance. At first, chaffed by Clara, he had stopped out several -nights; then, yielding to the mad desires of a quiet, chaste fellow, he -had become her obedient slave, and had not returned one Monday, but had -simply sent a farewell letter to Baudu, written in the studied terms of -a man about to commit suicide. Perhaps, at the bottom of this passion, -there was also the crafty calculation of a fellow delighted at escaping -a disastrous marriage. The draper's business was in as bad a way as -his betrothed; the moment was propitious to break with them through any -stupidity. And every one cited him as an unfortunate victim of love. - -When Denise arrived at The Old Elbeuf, Madame Baudu was there alone, -sitting motionless behind the pay-desk, with her small white face, eaten -up by anæmia, silent and quiet in the cold, deserted shop. There were -no assistants now. The servant dusted the shelves, and it was even a -question of replacing her by a charwoman. A dreary cold fell from the -ceiling, hours passed away without a customer coming to disturb this -silence, and the goods, no longer touched, became mustier and mustier -every day. - -“What's the matter?” asked Denise, anxiously. “Is Geneviève in danger?” - -Madame Baudu did not reply at first. Her eyes filled with tears. Then -she stammered: “I don't know; they don't tell me anything. Ah, it's all -over, it's all over.” - -And she cast a sombre glance around the dark old shop, as if she felt -her daughter and the shop disappearing together. The seventy thousand -francs, produce of the sale of their Rambouillet property, had melted -away in less than two years in this gulf of competition. In order to -struggle against The Ladies' Paradise, which now kept men's cloths and -materials for hunting and livery suits, the draper had made considerable -sacrifices. At last he had been definitely crushed by the swanskin cloth -and flannels sold by his rival, an assortment that had not its equal -in the market. Little by little his debts had increased, and, as a last -resource, he had resolved to mortgage the old building in the Rue de la -Michodière, where Finet, their ancestor, had founded the business; and -it was now only a question of days, the crumbling away had commenced, -the very ceilings seemed to be falling down and turning into dust, like -an old worm-eaten structure carried away by the wind. - -“Your uncle is upstairs,” resumed Madame Baudu in her broken voice. “We -stay with her two hours each. Some one must look out here; oh! but only -as a precaution, for to tell the truths----” - -Her gesture finished the phrase. They would have put the shutters up had -it not been for their old commercial pride, which still propped them up -in the presence of the neighbourhood. - -“Well, I'll go up, aunt,” said Denise, whose heart was bleeding, amidst -this resigned despair that even the pieces of cloth themselves exhaled. - -“Yes, go upstairs quick, my girl. She's waiting for you. She's been -asking for you all night. She has something to tell you.” - -But just at that moment Baudu came down. The rising bile gave his yellow -face a greenish tinge, and his eyes were bloodshot. He was still walking -with the muffled step with which he had quitted the Sick room, and -murmur-ed, as if he might be heard upstairs, “She's asleep.” - -And, thoroughly worn out, he sat down on a chair, wiping his forehead -with a mechanical gesture, puffing like a man who has just finished some -hard work. A silence ensued, but at last he said to Denise: “You'll see -her presently. When she is sleeping, she seems to me to be all right -again.” - -There was again a silence. Face to face, the father and mother stood -looking at each other. Then, in a half whisper, he went over his grief -again, naming no one, addressing no one directly: “My head on the block, -I wouldn't have believed it! He was the last one. I had brought him up -as a son. If any one had come and said to me, 'They'll take him away -from you as well; he'll fall as well,' I would have replied 'Impossible, -it could not be.' And he has fallen all the same! Ah! the scoundrel, he -who was so well up in real business, who had all my ideas! And all for -a young monkey, one of those dummies that parade at the windows of bad -houses! No! really, it's enough to drive one mad!” - -He shook his head, his eyes fell on the damp floor worn away by -generations of customers. Then he continued in a lower voice, “There are -moments when I feel myself the most culpable of all in our misfortune. -Yes, it's my fault if our poor girl is upstairs devoured by fever. Ought -not I to have married them at once, without yielding to my stupid pride, -my obstinacy in refusing to leave them the house less prosperous than -before? Had I done that she would now have the man she loved, and -perhaps their united youthful strength would have accomplished the -miracle that I have failed to work. But I am an old fool, and saw -through nothing; I didn't know that people fell ill over such things. -Really he was an extraordinary fellow: with such a gift for business, -and such probity, such simplicity of conduct, so orderly in every -way--in short, my pupil.” - -He raised his head, still defending his ideas, in the person of the -shopman who had betrayed him. Denise could not bear to hear him accuse -himself, and she told him so, carried away by her emotion, on seeing him -so humble, with his eyes full of tears, he who used formerly to reign as -absolute master. - -“Uncle, pray don't apologise for him. He never loved Geneviève, he would -have run away sooner if you had tried to hasten the marriage. I have -spoken to him myself about it; he was perfectly well aware that my -cousin was suffering on his account, and you see that did not prevent -him leaving. Ask aunt.” - -Without opening her lips, Madame Baudu confirmed these words by a nod. -The draper turned paler still, blinded by his tears. He stammered out: -“It must be in the blood, his father died last year through having led a -dissolute life.” - -And he once more looked round the obscure shop, his eyes wandering from -the empty counters to the full shelves, then resting on Madame Baudu, -who was still at the pay-desk, waiting in vain for the customers who did -not come. - -“Come,” said he, “it's all over. They've ruined our business, and now -one of their hussies is killing our daughter.” - -No one spoke. The rolling of the vehicles, which occasionally shook the -floor, passed like a funereal beating of drums in the still air, stifled -under the low ceiling. Suddenly, amidst this gloomy sadness of the old -dying shop, could be heard several heavy knocks, struck somewhere in -the house. It was Geneviève, who had just awoke, and was knocking with a -stick they had left near her bed. - -“Let's go up at once,” said Baudu, rising with a start. “Try and be -cheerful, she mustn't know.” - -He himself rubbed his eyes to efface the trace of his tears. As soon as -he had opened the door, on the first storey, they heard a frightened, -feeble voice crying: “Oh, I don't like to be left alone. Don't leave me; -I'm afraid to be left alone.” Then, when she perceived Denise, Geneviève -became calmer, and smiled joyfully. “You've come, then! How I've been -longing to see you since yesterday. I thought you also had abandoned -me!” - -It was a piteous sight. The young girl's room looked out on to the yard, -a little room lighted by a livid light At first her parents had put her -in their own room, in the front; but the sight of The Ladies' Paradise -opposite affected her so much, that they had been obliged to bring -her back to her own again. And there she lay, so very thin, under the -bed-clothes, that one hardly suspected the form and existence of a human -body. Her skinny arms, consumed by a burning fever, were in a perpetual -movement of anxious, unconscious searching; whilst her black hair seemed -thicker still, and to be eating up her poor face with its voracious -vitality, that face in which was agonising the final degenerateness of -a family sprung up in the shade, in this cellar of old commercial Paris. -Denise, her heart bursting with pity, stood looking at her. She did not -at first speak, for fear of giving way to tears. At last she murmured: - -“I came at once. Can I be of any use to you? You asked for me. Would you -like me to stay?” - -“No, thanks. I don't want anything. I only wanted to embrace you.” - -Tears filled her eyes. Denise quickly leant over, and kissed her on both -cheeks, trembling to feel on her lips the flame of those hollow cheeks. -But Geneviève, stretching out her arms, seized and kept her in a -desperate embrace. Then she looked towards her father. - -“Would you like me to stay?” repeated Denise. “Perhaps there is -something I can do for you.” - -Geneviève's glance was still obstinately fixed on her father, who -remained standing, with a stolid air, almost choking. He at last -understood, and went away, without saying a word; and they heard his -heavy footstep on the stairs. - -“Tell me, is he with that woman?” asked the sick girl immediately, -seizing her cousin's hand, and making her sit on the side of the bed. -“I want to know, and you are the only one can tell me. They're living -together, aren't they?” Denise, surprised by these questions, stammered, -and was obliged to confess the truth, the rumours that were current in -the shop. Clara, tired of this fellow, who was getting a nuisance to -her, had already broken with him, and Colomban, desolated, was pursuing -her everywhere, trying to obtain a meeting from time to time, with a -sort of canine humility. They said that he was going to take a situation -at the Grands Magasins du Louvre. - -“If you still love him, he may return,” said Denise, to cheer the dying -girl with this last hope. “Get well quick, he will acknowledge his -errors, and marry you.” - -Geneviève interrupted her. She had listened with all her soul, with an -intense passion that raised her in the bed. But she fell back almost -immediately. “No, I know it's all over! I don't say anything, because I -see papa crying, and I don't wish to make mamma worse than she is. But I -am going, Denise, and if I called for you last night it was for fear of -going off before the morning. And to think that he is not happy after -all!” - -And Denise having remonstrated, assuring her that she was not so bad as -all that, she cut her short again, suddenly throwing off the bed-clothes -with the chaste gesture of a virgin who has nothing to conceal in death. -Naked to the waist, she murmured: “Look at me! Is it possible?” - -Trembling, Denise quitted the side of the bed, as if she feared to -destroy this fearful nudity with a breath. It was the last of the flesh, -a bride's body used up by waiting, returned to the first infantile -slimness of her young days. Geneviève slowly covered herself up again, -saying: “You see I am no longer a woman. It would be wrong to wish for -him still!” There was a silence. Both continued to look at each other, -unable to find a word to say. It was Geneviève who resumed: “Come, don't -stay any longer, you have your own affairs to look after. And thanks, I -was tormented by the wish to know, and am now satisfied. If you see him, -tell him I forgive him. Adieu, dear Denise. Kiss me once more, for it's -the last time.” The young girl kissed her, protesting: “No, no, don't -despair, all you want is loving care, nothing more.” But the sick girl, -shaking her head in an obstinate way, smiled, quite sure of what she -said. And as her cousin was making for the door, she exclaimed: “Wait a -minute, knock with this stick, so that papa may come up. I'm afraid to -stay alone.” - -Then, when Baudu arrived in that small, gloomy room, where he spent -hours seated on a chair, she assumed an air of gaiety, saying to -Denise--“Don't come to-morrow, I would rather not. But on Sunday I shall -expect you; you can spend the afternoon with me.” - -The next morning, at six o'clock, Geneviève expired after four hours' -fearful agony. The funeral took place on a Saturday, a fearfully black, -gloomy day, under a sooty sky which hung over the shivering city. The -Old Elbeuf, hung with white linen, lighted up the street with a bright -spot, and the candles burning in the fading day seemed so many stars -drowned in the twilight The coffin was covered with wreaths and bouquets -of white roses; it was a narrow child's coffin, placed in the obscure -passage of the house on a level with the pavement, so near the gutter -that the passing carriages had already splashed the coverings. The whole -neighbourhood exhaled a dampness, a cellar-like mouldy odour, with its -continual rush of pedestrians on the muddy pavement. - -At nine o'clock Denise came over to stay with her aunt. But as the -funeral was starting, the latter--who had ceased weeping, her eyes burnt -with tears--begged her to follow the body and look after her uncle, -whose mute affliction and almost idiotic grief filled the family with -anxiety. Below, the young girl found the street full of people, for the -small traders in the neighbourhood were anxious to show the Baudus -a mark of sympathy, and in this eagerness there was also a sort of -manifestation against The Ladies' Paradise, whom they accused of -causing Geneviève's slow agony. All the victims of the monster were -there--Bédoré and sister from the hosier's shop in the Rue Gaillon, the -furriers, Vanpouille Brothers, and Deslignières the toyman, and Piot -and Rivoire the furniture dealers; even Mademoiselle Tatin from the -underclothing shop, and the glover Quinette, long since cleared off by -bankruptcy, had made it a duty to come, the one from Batignolle, the -other from the Bastille, where they had been obliged to take situations. -Whilst waiting for the hearse, which was late, these people, tramping -about in the mud, cast glances of hatred towards The Ladies' Paradise, -the bright windows and gay displays of which seemed an insult in face -of The Old Elbeuf, which, with its funeral trappings and glimmering -candles, cast a gloom over the other side of the street A few curious -faces appeared at the plate-glass windows; but the colossus maintained -the indifference of a machine going at full speed, unconscious of the -deaths it may cause on the road. - -Denise looked round for her brother Jean, whom she at last perceived -standing before Bourras's shop, and she went and asked him to walk with -his uncle, to assist him if he could not get along. For the last few -weeks Jean had been very grave, as if tormented by some worry. To-day, -buttoned up in his black frock-coat, a full grown man, earning his -twenty francs a day, he seemed so dignified and so sad that his sister -was surprised, for she had no idea he loved his cousin so much as that. -Desirous of sparing Pépé this needless grief, she had left him with -Madame Gras, intending to go and fetch him in the afternoon to see his -uncle and aunt. - -The hearse had still not arrived, and Denise, greatly affected, was -watching the candles burn, when she was startled by a well-known voice -behind her. It was Bourras. He had called the chestnut-seller opposite, -in his little box, against the public-house, and said to him: - -“I say, Vigouroux, just keep a look-out for me a bit, will you? You see -I've closed the door. If any one comes tell them to call again. But don't -let that disturb you, no one will come.” - -Then he took his stand on the pavement, waiting like the others. Denise, -feeling rather awkward, glanced at his shop. He entirely abandoned it -now; there was nothing left but a disorderly array of umbrellas eaten up -by the damp air, and canes blackened by the gas. The embellishments -that he had made, the delicate green paint work, the glasses, the gilded -sign, were all cracking, already getting dirty, presenting that rapid -and lamentable decrepitude of false luxury laid over ruins. But though -the old crevices were re-appearing, though the spots of damp had sprung -up over the gildings, the house still held its ground obstinately, -hanging on to the flanks of The Ladies' Paradise like a dishonouring -wart, which, although cracked and rotten, refused to fall off. - -“Ah! the scoundrels,” growled Bourras, “they won't even let her be -carried away.” - -The hearse, which had at last arrived, had just got into collision with -one of The Ladies' Paradise vans, which was spinning along, shedding in -the mist its starry radiance, with the rapid trot of two superb horses. -And the old man cast on Denise an oblique glance, lighted up under his -bushy eyebrows. Slowly, the funeral started off, splashing through the -muddy pools, amid the silence of the omnibuses and carriages suddenly -pulled up. When the coffin, draped with white, crossed the Place -Gaillon, the sombre looks of the cortege were once more plunged into the -windows of the big shop, where two saleswomen alone had run up to look -on, pleased at this distraction. Baudu followed the hearse with a heavy -mechanical step, refusing by a sign the arm offered by Jean, who was -walking with him. Then, after a long-string of people, came three -mourning coaches. As they passed the Rue Neuve-des-Petits-Champs, -Robineau ran up to join the cortege, very pale, and looking much older. - -At Saint-Roch, a great many women were waiting, the small traders of -the neighbourhood, who had been afraid of the crowd at the house. The -manifestation was developing into quite a riot; and when, after the -service, the procession started off back, all the men followed, although -it was a long walk from the Rue Saint-Honoré to the Montmartre Cemetery. -They had to go up the Rue Saint-Roch, and once more pass The Ladies' -Paradise. It was a sort of obsession; this poor young girl's body was -paraded round the big shop like the first victim fallen in time of -revolution. At the door some red flannels were flapping like so many -flags, and a display of carpets blazed forth in a florescence of -enormous roses and full-blown pæonies. Denise had got into one of the -coaches, being agitated by some smarting doubts, her heart oppressed by -such a feeling of grief that she had not the strength to walk At -that moment there was a stop, in the Rue du Dix-Décembre, before the -scaffolding of the new façade which still obstructed the thoroughfare. -'And the young girl observed old Bourras, left behind, dragging along -with difficulty, close to the wheels of the coach in which she was -riding alone. He would never get as far as the cemetery, she thought. He -raised his head, looked at her, and all at once got into the coach. - -“It's my confounded knees,” exclaimed he. “Don't draw back! Is it you -that we detest?” - -She felt him to be friendly and furious as in former days. He grumbled, -declared that Baudu must be fearfully strong to be able to keep up after -such blows as he had received. The procession had resumed its slow pace; -and on leaning out, Denise saw her uncle walking with his heavy step, -which seemed to regulate the rumbling and painful march of the cortege. -She then threw herself back into the corner, listening to the endless -complaints of the old umbrella maker, rocked by the melancholy movement -of the coach. - -“The police ought to clear the public thoroughfare, my word! They've -been blocking up our street for the last eighteen months with the -scaffolding of their façade, where a man was killed the other day. Never -mind! When they want to enlarge further they'll have to throw bridges -over the street. They say there are now two thousand seven hundred -employees, and that the business will amount to a hundred millions this -year. A hundred millions! Just fancy, a hundred millions!” - -Denise had nothing to say in reply. The procession had just turned -into the Rue de la Chaussée d'Antin, where it was stopped by a block of -vehicles. Bourras went on, with a vague expression in his eyes, as if he -were dreaming aloud. He still failed to understand the triumph -achieved by The Ladies' Paradise, but he acknowledged the defeat of the -old-fashioned traders. - -“Poor Robineau's done for, he's got the face of a drowning man. And the -Bédorés and the Vanpouilles, they can't keep going; they're like me, -played out Deslignières will die of apoplexy. Piot and Rivoire have the -yellow jaundice. Ah! we're a fine lot; a pretty cortege of skeletons to -follow the poor child. It must be comical for those looking on to see -this string of bankrupts pass. Besides, it appears that the clean sweep -is to continue. The scoundrels are creating departments for flowers, -bonnets, perfumery, shoemaking, all sorts of things. Grognet, the -perfumer in the Rue de Grammont, can clear out, and I wouldn't give ten -francs for Naud's shoe-shop in the Rue d'Antin. The cholera has spread -as far as the Rue Sainte-Anne, where Lacassagne, at the feather and -flower shop, and Madame Chadeuil, whose bonnets are so well-known, will -be swept away before long. And after those, others; it will still go -on! All the businesses in the neighbourhood will suffer. When -counter-jumpers commence to sell soap and goloshes, they are quite -capable of dealing in fried potatoes. My word, the world is turning -upside down!” - -The hearse was just then crossing the Place de la Trinité to ascend the -steep Rue Blanche, and from the corner of the gloomy coach Denise, who, -broken-hearted, was listening to the endless complaints of the old man, -could see the coffin as they issued from the Rue de la Chaussée d'Antin. -Behind her uncle, marching along with the blind, mute face of an ox -about to be poleaxed, she seemed to hear the tramping of a flock of -sheep led to the slaughter-house, the discomfiture of the shops of a -whole district, the small traders dragging along their ruin, with the -thud of damp shoes, through the muddy streets of Paris. Bourras still -went on, in a deeper voice, as if slackened by the difficult ascent of -the Rue Blanche. - -“As for me, I am settled. But I still hold on all the same, and won't -let go. He's just lost his appeal case. Ah! that's cost me something, -what with nearly two years' pleading, and the solicitors and the -barristers! Never mind, he won't pass under my shop, the judges have -decided that such a work could not be considered as a legitimate case -of repairing. Fancy, he talked of creating underneath a light saloon to -judge the colours of the stuffs by gas-light, a subterranean room which -would have united the hosiery to the drapery department! And he can't -get over it; he can't swallow the fact that an old humbug like me should -stop his progress when everybody are on their knees before his money. -Never! I won't! that's understood. Very likely I may be worsted. Since I -have had to go to the money-lenders, I know the villain is looking after -my paper, in the hope to play me some villanous trick, no doubt. But -that doesn't matter. He says 'yes,' and I say 'no,' and shall still say -'no,' even when I get between two boards like this poor little girl who -has just been nailed up.” - -When they reached the Boulevard de Clichy, the coach went at a -quicker pace; one could hear the heavy breathing of the mourners, the -unconscious haste of the cortege, anxious to get the sad ceremony over. -What Bourras did not openly mention, was the frightful misery into which -he had fallen, bewildered amidst the confusion of the small trader who -is on the road to ruin and yet remains obstinate, under a shower of -protested bills. Denise, well acquainted with his situation, at last -interrupted the silence by saying, in a voice of entreaty: - -“Monsieur Bourras, pray don't stand out any longer. Let me arrange -matters for you.” - -But he interrupted her with a violent gesture. “You be quiet. That's -nobody's business. You're a good little girl, and I know you lead him -a hard life, this man who thought you were for sale like my house. But -what would you answer if I advised you to say 'yes?' You'd send me about -my business. Therefore, when I say 'no,' don't you interfere in the -matter.” - -And the coach having stopped at the cemetery gate, he got out with the -young girl. The Baudus' vault was situated in the first alley on the -left. In a few minutes the ceremony was terminated. Jean had drawn -away his uncle, who was looking into the grave with a gaping air. The -mourners wandered about amongst the neighbouring tombs, and the faces -of all these shopkeepers, their blood impoverished by living in their -unhealthy shops assumed an ugly suffering look under the leaden sky. -When the coffin slipped gently down, their blotched and pimpled cheeks -paled, and their bleared eyes, blinded with figures, turned away. - -“We ought all to jump into this hole,” said Bourras to Denise, who had -kept close to him. “In burying this poor girl they are burying the whole -district. Oh! I know what I am saying, the old-fashioned business may go -and join the white roses they are throwing on to her coffin.” - -Denise brought back her uncle and brother in a mourning coach. The day -was for her exceedingly dull and melancholy. In the first place, she -began to get anxious at Jean's paleness, and when she understood that it -was on account of another woman, she tried to quiet him by opening her -purse, but he shook his head and refused, saying it was serious this -time, the niece of a very rich pastry-cook, who would not accept even -a bunch of violets. Afterwards, in the afternoon, when Denise went to -fetch Pépé from Madame Gras's, the latter declared that he was getting -too big for her to keep any longer; another annoyance, for she would be -obliged to find him a school, perhaps send him away. And to crown all -she was thoroughly heart-broken, on bringing Pépé back to kiss his aunt -and uncle, to see the gloomy sadness of The Old Elbeuf. The shop was -closed, and the old couple were at the further end of the little room, -where they had forgotten to light the gas, notwithstanding the complete -obscurity of this winter's day. They were now quite alone, face to face, -in the house, slowly emptied by ruin; and the death of their daughter -deepened the shady corners, and was like the supreme cracking which was -soon to break up the old rafters, eaten away by the damp. Beneath this -destruction, her uncle, unable to stop himself, still kept walking round -the table, with his funeral-like step, blind and silent; whilst her -aunt said nothing, she had fallen into a chair, with the white face of a -wounded person, whose blood was running away drop by drop. They did not -even weep when Pépé covered their cold cheeks with kisses. Denise was -choked with tears. - -That same evening Mouret sent for the young girl to speak of a child's -garment he wished to launch forth, a mixture of the Scotch and Zouave -costumes. And still trembling with pity, shocked at so much suffering, -she could not contain herself; she first ventured to speak of Bourras, -of that poor old man whom they were about to ruin. But, on hearing the -umbrella maker's name, Mouret flew into a rage at once. The old madman, -as he called him, was the plague of his life, and spoilt his triumph -by his idiotic obstinacy in not giving up his house, that ignoble hovel -which was a disgrace to The Ladies' Paradise, the only little corner -of the vast block that escaped his conquest. The matter was becoming a -regular nightmare; any one else but Denise speaking in favour of Bourras -would have run the risk of being dismissed immediately, so violently was -Mouret tortured by the sickly desire to kick the house down. In short, -what did they wish him to do? Could he leave this heap of ruins sticking -to The Ladies' Paradise? It would be got rid of, the shop was to pass -through it. So touch the worse for the old fool! And he spoke of his -repeated proposals; he had offered him as much as a hundred thousand -francs. Wasn't that fair? He never higgled, he gave the money required; -but in return he expected people to be reasonable, and allow him to -finish his work! Did any one ever try to stop the locomotives on a -railway? She listened to him, with drooping eyes, unable to find any -but purely sentimental reasons. The old man was so old, they might have -waited till his death; a failure would kill him. Then he added that he -was no longer able to prevent things going their course. Bourdoncle had -taken the matter up, for the board had resolved to put an end to it. She -had nothing more to add, notwithstanding the grievous pity she felt for -her old friend. - -After a painful silence, Mouret himself commenced to speak of the -Baudus, by expressing his sorrow at the death of their daughter. They -were very worthy people, very honest, but had been pursued by the worst -of luck. Then he resumed his arguments; at bottom, they had really -caused their own misfortune by obstinately sticking to the old ways in -their worm-eaten place; it was not astonishing that the place should be -falling about their heads. He had predicted it scores of times; she must -remember that he had charged her to warn her uncle of a fatal disaster, -if the latter still clung to his old-fashioned stupid ways. And the -catastrophe had arrived; no one in the world could now prevent it -They could not reasonably expect him to ruin himself to save the -neighbourhood. Besides, if he had been foolish enough to close The -Ladies' Paradise, another big shop would have sprung up of itself next -door, for the idea was now starting from the four corners of the globe; -the triumph of these manufacturing and industrial cities was sown by -the spirit of the times, which was sweeping away the tumbling edifice -of former ages. Little by little Mouret warmed up, and found an -eloquent emotion with which to defend himself against the hatred of his -involuntary victims, the clamour of the small dying shops that was heard -around him. They could not keep their dead, he continued, they must bury -them; and with a gesture he sent down into the grave, swept away and -threw into the common hole the corpse of old-fashioned business, the -greenish, poisonous remains of which were becoming a disgrace to the -bright, sun-lighted streets of new Paris. No, no, he felt no remorse, -he was simply doing the work of his age, and she knew it; she, who loved -life, who had a passion for big affairs, concluded in the full glare of -publicity. Reduced to silence, she listened to him for some time, and -then went away, her soul full of trouble. - -That night Denise slept but little. A sleeplessness, traversed by -nightmare, kept her turning over and over in her bed. It seemed to her -that she was quite little, and she burst into tears, in their garden at -Valognes, on seeing the blackcaps eat up the spiders, which themselves -devoured the flies. Was it then really true, this necessity for the -world to fatten on death, this struggle for existence which drove -people into the charnel-house of eternal destruction? Afterwards she saw -herself before the vault into which they had lowered Geneviève, then -she perceived her uncle and aunt in their obscure dining-room. In -the profound silence, a heavy voice, as of something tumbling down, -traversed the dead air; it was Bourras's house giving way, as if -undermined by a high tide. The silence recommenced, more sinister than -ever, and a fresh rumbling was heard, then another, then another; the -Robineaus, the Bédorés, the Vanpouilles, cracked and fell down in their -turn, the small shops of the neighbourhood were disappearing beneath an -invisible pick, with a brusque, thundering noise, as of a tumbril being -emptied. Then an immense pity awoke her with a start. Heavens! what -tortures! There were families weeping, old men thrown out into the -street, all the poignant dramas that ruin conjures up. And she could -save nobody; and she felt that it was right, that all this misery was -necessary for the health of the Paris of the future. When day broke she -became calmer, a feeling of resigned melancholy kept her awake, turned -towards the windows through which the light was making its way. Yes, it -was the need of blood that every revolution exacted from its martyrs, -every step forward was made over the bodies of the dead. Her fear -of being a wicked girl, of having assisted in the ruin of her -fellow-creatures, now melted into a heartfelt pity, in face of these -evils without remedy, which are the painful accompaniment of each -generation's birth. She finished by seeking some possible comfort in her -goodness, she dreamed of the means to be employed in order to save her -relations at least from the final crash. - -Mouret now appeared before her with his passionate face and caressing -eyes. He would certainly refuse her nothing; she felt sure he would -accord her all reasonable compensation. And her thoughts went astray -in trying to judge him. She knew his life, was aware of the calculating -nature of his former affections, his continual exploitation of woman, -mistresses taken up to further his own ends, and his intimacy with -Madame Desforges solely to get hold of Baron Hartmann, and all the -others, such as Clara and the rest, pleasure bought, paid for, and -thrown out on the pavement. But these beginnings of a love adventurer, -which were the talk of the shop, were gradually effaced by the strokes -of genius of this man, his victorious grace. He was seduction itself. -What she could never have forgiven was his former deception, his lover's -coldness under the gallant comedy of his attentions. But she felt -herself to be entirely without rancour, now that he was suffering -through her. This suffering had elevated him. When she saw him tortured -by her refusal, atoning so fully for his former disdain for woman, he -seemed to have made amends for all his faults. - -That morning Denise obtained from Mouret the compensation she might -judge legitimate the day the Baudus and old Bourras should succumb. -Weeks passed away, during which she went to see her uncle nearly every -afternoon, escaping from her counter for a few minutes, bringing her -smiling face and brave courage to enliven the sombre shop. She was -especially anxious about her aunt, who had fallen into a dull stupor -since Geneviève's death; it seemed that her life was quitting her -hourly; and when people spoke to her she would reply with an astonished -air that she was not suffering, but that she simply felt as if overcome -by sleep. The neighbours shook their heads, saying she would not live -long to regret her daughter. - -One day Denise was coming out of the Baudus', when, on turning the -corner of the Place Gaillon, she heard a loud cry. The crowd rushed -forward, a panic arose, that breath of fear and pity which so -suddenly seizes a crowd. It was a brown omnibus, belonging to the -Bastille-Batignolles line, which had run over a man, coming out of the -Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin, opposite the fountain. Upright on his seat, -with furious gestures, the driver was pulling in his two kicking horses, -and crying out, in a great passion: - -“Confound you! Why don't you look out, you idiot!” - -The omnibus had now stopped, and the crowd had surrounded the wounded -man, and, strange to say, a policeman was soon on the spot. Still -standing up, invoking the testimony of the people on the knife-board, -who had also got up, to look over and see the wounded man, the coachman -was explaining the matter, with exasperated gestures, choked by his -increasing anger. - -“It's something fearful. This fellow was walking in the middle of the -road, quite at home. I called out, and he at once threw himself under -the wheels!” - -A house-painter, who had run up, brush in hand, from a neighbouring -house, then said, in a sharp voice, amidst the clamour: “Don't excite -yourself. I saw him, he threw himself under. He jumped in, head first. -Another unfortunate tired of life, no doubt.” - -Others spoke up, and all agreed upon it being a case of suicide, whilst -the policeman pulled out his book and made his entry. Several ladies, -very pale, got out quickly, and ran away without looking back, filled -with horror by the soft shaking which had stirred them up when the -omnibus passed over the body. Denise approached, attracted by a -practical pity, which prompted her to interest herself in all sorts -of street accidents, wounded dogs, horses down, and tilers falling off -roofs. And she immediately recognised the unfortunate fellow who had -fainted away, his clothes covered with mud. - -“It's Monsieur Robineau,” cried she, in her grievous astonishment. - -The policeman at once questioned the young girl, and she gave his name, -profession, and address. Thanks to the driver's energy, the omnibus had -twisted round, and thus only Robineau's legs had gone under the wheels, -but it was to be feared that they were both broken. Four men carried -the wounded draper to a chemist's shop in the Rue Gaillon, whilst the -omnibus slowly resumed its journey. - -“My stars!” said the driver, whipping up his horses, “I've done a famous -day's work.” - -Denise followed Robineau into the chemist's. The latter, waiting for a -doctor who could not be found, declared there was no immediate danger, -and that the wounded man had better be taken home, as he lived in -the neighbourhood. A lad started off to the police-station to order a -stretcher, and Denise had the happy thought of going on in front and -preparing Madame Robineau for this frightful blow. But she had the -greatest trouble in the world to get into the street through the crowd, -which was struggling before the door. This crowd, attracted by death, -was increasing every minute; men, women, and children stood on tip-toe, -and held their own amidst a brutal pushing, and each new comer had his -version of the accident, so that at last it was said to be a husband -pitched out of the window by his wife's lover. - -In the Rue Neuve-des-Petits-Champs, Denise perceived Madame Robineau -on the threshold of the silk warehouse. This gave her a pretext for -stopping, and she talked on for a moment, trying to find a way of -breaking the terrible news. The shop presented the disorderly, abandoned -appearance of the last struggles of a dying business. It was the -inevitable end of the great battle of the silks; the Paris Paradise had -crushed its rival by a fresh reduction of a sou; it was now sold at four -francs nineteen sous, Gaujean's silk had found its Waterloo. For the -last two months Robineau, reduced to all sorts of shifts, had been -leading a fearful life, trying to prevent a declaration of bankruptcy. - -“I've just seen your husband pass through the Place Gaillon,” murmured -Denise, who had now entered the shop. - -Madame Robineau, whom a secret anxiety seemed to be continually -attracting towards the street, said quickly: “Ah, just now, wasn't it? -I'm waiting for him, he ought to be back; Monsieur Gaujean came up this -morning, and they have gone out together.” - -She was still charming, delicate, and gay; but her advanced state of -pregnancy gave her a fatigued look, and she was more frightened, more -bewildered than ever, by these business matters, which she did not -understand, and which were all going wrong. As she often said, what was -the use of it all? Would it not be better to live quietly in some small -house, and be contented with modest fare? - -“My dear child,” resumed she with her smile, which was becoming sadder, -“we have nothing to conceal from you. Things are not going on well, -and my poor darling is worried to death. To-day this Gaujean has been -tormenting him about some bills overdue. I was dying with anxiety at -being left here all alone.” - -And she was returning to the door when Denise stopped her, having heard -the noise of the crowd and guessing that it was the wounded man being -brought along, surrounded by a mob of idlers anxious to see the end of -the affair. Then, with a parched throat, unable to find the consoling -words she would have wished, she had to explain the matter. - -“Don't be anxious, there's no immediate danger. I've seen Monsieur -Robineau, he has met with an accident. They are just bringing him home, -pray don't be frightened.” - -The poor woman listened to her, white as a sheet, without clearly -understanding. The street was full of people, the drivers of the impeded -cabs were swearing, the men had laid down the stretcher before the shop -in order to open both glass doors. - -“It was an accident,” continued Denise, resolved to conceal the attempt -at suicide. “He was on the pavement and slipped under the wheels of an -omnibus. Only his feet were hurt. They've sent for a doctor. There's no -need to be anxious.” - -A shudder passed over Madame Robineau. She set up an inarticulate cry, -then ceased talking and ran to the stretcher, drawing the covering away -with her trembling hands. The men who had brought Robineau were waiting -to take him away as soon as the doctor arrived. They dared not touch -him, who had come round again, and whose sufferings were frightful at -the slightest movement. When he saw his wife his eyes filled with tears. -She embraced him, and stood looking fixedly at him, and weeping. In the -street the tumult was increasing; the people pressed forward as at a -theatre, with glistening eyes; some work-girls, escaped from a shop, -were almost pushing through the windows eager to see what was going on. -In order to avoid this feverish curiosity, and thinking, besides, that -it was not right to leave the shop open, Denise decided on letting the -metallic shutters down. She went and turned the winch, the wheels of -which gave out a plaintive cry, the sheets of iron slowly descended, like -the heavy draperies of a curtain falling on the catastrophe of a fifth -act. When she went in again, after closing the little round door in the -shutters, she found Madame Robineau still clasping her husband in -her arms, in the half-light which came from the two stars cut in the -shutters. The ruined shop seemed to be gliding into nothingness, the -two stars alone glittered on this sudden and brutal catastrophe of the -streets of Paris. - -At last Madame Robineau recovered her speech. “Oh, my darling!--oh, my -darling! my darling!” - -This was all she could say, and he, suffocated, confessed himself with a -cry of remorse when he saw her kneeling thus before him. When he did not -move he only felt the burning lead of his legs. - -“Forgive me, I must have been mad. When the lawyer told me before -Gaujean that the posters would be put up tomorrow, I saw flames dancing -before me as if the walls were burning. After that I remember nothing -else. I came down the Rue de la Michodière--it seemed that The Paradise -people were laughing at me, that immense house seemed to crush me. So, -when the omnibus came up, I thought of Lhomme and his arm, and threw -myself underneath the omnibus.” - -Madame Robineau had slowly fallen on to the floor, horrified by this -confession. Heavens! he had tried to kill himself. She seized the hand -of her young friend, who leant over towards her quite overcome. The -wounded man, exhausted by emotion, had just fainted away again; and the -doctor not having arrived, two men went all over the neighbourhood for -him. The doorkeeper belonging to the house had gone off in his turn to -look for him. - -“Pray, don't be anxious,” repeated Denise, mechanically, herself also -sobbing. - -Then Madame Robineau, seated on the floor, with her head against the -stretcher, her cheek placed on the mattress where her husband was lying, -relieved her heart “Oh! I must tell you. It's all for me he wanted to -die. He's always saying, 'I've robbed you; it was not my money.' And at -night he dreams of this money, waking up covered with perspiration, -calling himself an incapable fellow, saying that those who have no head -for business ought not to risk other people's money. You know he has -always been nervous, his brain tormented. He finished by conjuring up -things that frightened me. He saw me in the street in tatters, begging, -his darling wife, whom he loved so tenderly, whom he longed to see rich -and happy.” But on turning round, she noticed he had opened his eyes; -and she continued in a trembling voice: “My darling, why have you done -this? You must think me very wicked! I assure you, I don't care if we -are ruined. So long as we are together, we shall never be unhappy. Let -them take everything, and we will go away somewhere, where you won't -hear any more about them. You can still work; you'll see how happy we -shall be!” - -She placed her forehead near her husband's pale face, and both were -silent, in the emotion of their anguish. There was a pause. The shop -seemed to be sleeping, benumbed by the pale night which enveloped it; -whilst behind the thin shutters could be heard the noises of the street, -the life of the busy city, the rumble of the vehicles, and the hustling -and pushing of the passing crowd. At last Denise, who went every minute -to glance through the hall door, came back, exclaiming: “Here's the -doctor!” - -He was a young fellow, with bright eyes, whom the doorkeeper had found -and brought in. He preferred to examine the poor man before they put him -to bed. Only one of his legs, the left one, was broken above the ankle; -it was a simple fracture, no serious complication appeared likely to -result from it. And they were about to carry the stretcher into the -back-room when Gaujean arrived. He came to give them an account of -a last attempt to settle matters, an attempt which had failed; the -declaration of bankruptcy was definite. - -“Dear me,” murmured he, “what's the matter?” - -In a few words, Denise informed him. Then he stopped, feeling rather -awkward, while Robineau said, in a feeble voice: “I don't bear you any -ill-will, but all this is partly your fault.” - -“Well, my dear fellow,” replied Gaujean, “it wanted stronger men than -us. You know I'm not in a much better state than you.” - -They raised the stretcher; Robineau still found strength to say: “No, -no, stronger fellows than us would have given way as we have. I can -understand such obstinate old men as Bourras and Baudu standing out, but -you and I, who are young, who had accepted the new style of things! No, -Gaujean, it's the last of a world.” - -They carried him off. Madame Robineau embraced Denise with an eagerness -in which there was almost a feeling of joy, to have at last got rid of -all those worrying business matters. And, as Gaujean went away with the -young girl, he confessed to her that this poor devil of a Robineau was -right. It was idiotic to try and struggle against The Ladies' Paradise. -He personally felt himself lost, if he did not give in. Last night, in -fact, he had secretly made a proposal to Hutin, who was just leaving for -Lyons. But he felt very doubtful, and tried to interest Denise in the -matter, aware, no doubt, of her powerfulness. - -“My word,” said he, “so much the worse for the manufacturers! Every -one would laugh at me if I ruined myself in fighting for other people's -benefit, when these fellows are struggling who shall make at the -cheapest price! As you said some time ago, the manufacturers have -only to follow the march of progress by a better organisation and new -methods. Everything will come all right; it suffices that the public are -satisfied.” - -Denise smiled and replied: “Go and say that to Monsieur Mouret himself. -Your visit will please him, and he's not the man to display any rancour, -if you offer him even a centime profit per yard.” - -Madame Baudu died in January, on a bright sunny afternoon. For some -weeks she had been unable to go down into the shop that a charwoman now -looked after. She was in bed, propped up by the pillows. Nothing but -her eyes seemed to be living in her white face, and, her head erect, she -kept them obstinately fixed on The Ladies' Paradise opposite, through -the small curtains of the windows. Baudu, himself suffering from this -obsession, from the despairing fixity of her gaze, sometimes wanted -to draw the large curtains to. But she stopped him with an imploring -gesture, obstinately desirous of seeing the monster shop till the last -moment. It had now robbed her of everything, her business, her daughter; -she herself had gradually died away with The Old Elbeuf, losing a part -of her life as the shop lost its customers; the day it succumbed, she -had no more breath left When she felt she was dying, she still found the -strength to insist on her husband opening the two windows. It was -very mild, a bright day of sun gilded The Ladies' Paradise, whilst the -bed-room of their old house shivered in the shade. Madame Baudu lay with -her fixed gaze, absorbed by the vision of the triumphal monument, the -clear, limpid windows, behind which a gallop of millions was passing. -Slowly her eyes grew dim, invaded by darkness; and when they at last -sunk in death, they remained wide open, still looking, drowned in tears. - -Once more the ruined traders of the district followed the funeral -procession. There were the brothers Vanpouille, pale at the thought of -their December bills, paid by a supreme effort which they would never be -able to repeat. Bédoré, with his sister, leant on his cane, so full of -worry and anxiety that his liver complaint was getting worse every day. -Deslignières had had a fit, Piot and Rivoire walked on in silence, with -downcast looks, like men entirely played out. They dared not question -each other about those who had disappeared, Quinette, Mademoiselle -Tatin, and others, who were sinking, ruined, swept away by this -disastrous flood; without counting Robineau, still in bed, with his -broken leg. But they pointed with an especial air of interest to the new -tradesmen attacked by the plague; the perfumer Grognet, the milliner -Madame Chadeuil, Lacassagne, the flower maker, and Naud, the bootmaker, -still standing firm, but seized by the anxiety of the evil, which would -doubtless sweep them away in their turn. Baudu walked along behind the -hearse with the same heavy, stolid step as when he had followed his -daughter; whilst at the back of a mourning coach could be seen Bourras's -sparkling eyes under his bushy eyebrows, and his hair of a snowy white. - -Denise was in great trouble. For the last fifteen days she had been -worn out with fatigue and anxiety; she had been obliged to put Pépé to -school, and had been running about for Jean, who was so stricken with -the pastrycook's niece, that he had implored his sister to go and ask -her hand in marriage. Then her aunt's death, these repeated catastrophes -had quite overwhelmed the young girl. Mouret again offered his services, -giving her leave to do what she liked for her uncle and the others. -One morning she had an interview with him, at the news that Bourras was -turned into the street, and that Baudu was going to shut up shop. Then -she went out after breakfast in the hope of comforting these two, at -least. - -In the Rue de la Michodière, Bourras was standing on the pavement -opposite his house, from which he had been expelled the previous day by -a fine trick, a discovery of the lawyers; as Mouret held some bills, he -had easily obtained an order in bankruptcy against the umbrella-maker; -then he had given five hundred francs for the expiring lease at the sale -ordered by the court; so that the obstinate old man had allowed himself -to be deprived of, for five hundred francs, what he had refused to give -up for a hundred thousand. The architect, who came with his gang of -workmen, had been obliged to employ the police to get him out. The goods -had been taken and sold; but he still kept himself obstinately in the -corner where he slept, and from which they did not like to drive him, -out of pity. The workmen even attacked the roofing over his head. -They had taken off the rotten slates, the ceilings fell in, the walls -cracked, and yet he stuck there, under the naked old beams, amidst the -ruins of the shop. At last the police came, and he went away. But the -following morning he again appeared on the opposite side of the street, -after having spent the night in a lodging-house in the neighbourhood. - -“Monsieur Bourras!” said Denise, kindly. - -He did not hear her, his flaming eyes were devouring the workmen who -were attacking the front of the hovel with their picks. Through the -empty window-frames could be seen the inside of the house, the miserable -rooms, and the black staircase, where the sun had not penetrated for the -last two hundred years. . - -“Ah! it's you,” replied he, at last, when he recognised her. “A nice bit -of work they're doing, eh? the robbers!” - -She did not now dare to speak, stirred up by the lamentable sadness of -the old place, herself unable to take her eyes off the mouldy stones -that were falling. Above, in a corner of the ceiling of her old room, she -still perceived the name in black and shaky letters--Ernestine--written -with the flame of a candle, and the remembrance of those days of -misery came back to her, inspiring her with a tender sympathy for all -suffering. But the workmen, in order to knock one of the walls down at a -blow, had attacked it at its base. It was tottering. - -“Should like to see it crush all of them,” growled Bourras, in a savage -voice. - -There was a terrible cracking noise. The frightened workmen ran out into -the street. In falling down, the wall tottered and carried all the house -with it. No doubt the hovel was ripe for the fall--it could no longer -stand, with its flaws and cracks; a push had sufficed to cleave it -from top to bottom. It was a pitiful crumbling away, the razing of a -mud-house soddened by the rains. Not a board remained standing; there -was nothing on the ground but a heap of rubbish, the dung of the past -thrown at the street corner. - -“Oh, heavens!” exclaimed the old man, as if the blow had resounded in -his very entrails. - -He stood there gaping, never supposing it would have been over so quick. -And he looked at the gap, the hollow space at last left free on the -flanks of The Ladies' Paradise. It was like the crushing of a gnat, the -final triumph over the annoying obstinacy of the infinitely small, the -whole isle invaded and conquered. The passers-by lingered to talk to the -workmen, who were crying out against these old buildings, only good for -killing people. - -“Monsieur Bourras,” repeated Denise, trying to get him on one side, “you -know that you will not be abandoned. All your wants will be provided -for.” - -He held up his head. “I have no wants. You've been sent by them, haven't -you? Well, tell them that old Bourras still knows how to work, and that -he can find work wherever he likes. Really, it would be a fine thing to -offer charity to those they are assassinating!” - -Then she implored him: “Pray accept, Monsieur Bourras; don't give me -this grief.” - -But he shook his bushy head. “No, no, it's all over. Good-bye. Go and -live happily, you who are young, and don't prevent old people sticking -to their ideas.” - -He cast a last glance at the heap of rubbish, and then went away. She -watched him disappear, elbowed by the crowd on the pavement. He turned -the corner of the Place Gaillon, and all was over. For a moment, Denise -remained motionless, lost in thought. At last she went over to her -uncle's. The draper was alone in the dark shop of The Old Elbeuf. The -charwoman only came morning and evening to do a little cooking, and -to take down and put up the shutters. He spent hours in this solitude, -often without being disturbed once during the whole day, bewildered, and -unable to find the goods when a stray customer happened to venture in. -And there in the half-light he marched about unceasingly, with that -heavy step he had at the two funerals, yielding to a sickly desire, -regular fits of forced marching, as if he were trying to rock his grief -to sleep. - -“Are you feeling better, uncle?” asked Denise. He only stopped for -a second to glance at her. Then he started off again, going from the -pay-desk to an obscure corner. - -“Yes, yes. Very well, thanks.” - -She tried to find some consoling subject, some cheerful remark, but -could think of nothing. “Did you hear the noise? The house is down.” - -“Ah! it's true,” murmured he, with an astonished look, “that must have -been the house. I felt the ground tremble. Seeing them on the roof this -morning, I closed my door.” - -And he made a vague movement, to imitate that such things no longer -interested him. Every time he arrived before the pay-desk, he looked at -the empty seat, that well-known velvet-covered seat, where his wife and -daughter had grown up. Then when his perpetual walking brought him to -the other end, he gazed at the shelves drowned in shadow, in which a few -pieces of cloth were gradually growing mouldy. It was a widowed house, -those he loved had disappeared, his business had come to a shameful -end, and he was left alone to commune with his dead heart, and his pride -brought low amidst all these catastrophes. He raised his eyes towards -the black ceiling, overcome by the sepulchral silence which reigned in -the little dining-room, the family nook, of which he had formerly loved -every part, even down to the stuffy odour. Not a breath was now heard in -the old house, his regular heavy step made the ancient walls resound, as -if he were walking over the tombs of his affections. - -At last Denise approached the subject which had brought her. “Uncle, you -can't stay like this. You must come to a decision.” - -He replied, without stopping his walk--“No doubt; but what would you -have me do? I've tried to sell, but no one has come. One of these -mornings I shall shut up shop and go off.” - -She was aware that a failure was no longer to be feared. The creditors -had preferred to come to an understanding before such a long series -of misfortunes. Everything paid, the old man would find himself in the -street, penniless. - -“But what will you do, then?” murmured she, seeking some transition in -order to arrive at the offer she dared not make. - -“I don't know,” replied he. “They'll pick me up all right.” He had -changed his route, going from the dining-room to the windows with their -lamentable displays, looking at the latter, every time he came to -them, with a gloomy expression. His gaze did not even turn towards the -triumphal façade of The Ladies' Paradise, whose architectural lines ran -as far as the eye could see, to the right and to the left, at both -ends of the street. He was thoroughly annihilated, and had not even the -strength to get angry. - -“Listen, uncle,” said Denise, greatly embarrassed; “perhaps there might -be a situation for you.” She stopped, and stammered. “Yes, I am charged -to offer you a situation as inspector.” - -“Where?” asked Baudu. - -“Opposite,” replied she; “in our shop. Six thousand francs a year; a -very easy place.” - -Suddenly he stopped in front of her. But instead of getting angry as she -feared he would, he turned very pale, succumbing to a grievous emotion, -a feeling of bitter resignation. - -“Opposite, opposite,” stammered he several times. “You want me to go -opposite?” - -Denise herself was affected by this emotion. She recalled the long -struggle of the two shops, assisted at the funerals of Geneviève and -Madame Baudu, saw before her The Old Elbeuf overthrown, utterly ruined -by The Ladies' Paradise. And the idea of her uncle taking a situation -opposite, and walking about in a white neck-tie, made her heart leap -with pity and revolt. - -“Come, Denise, is it possible?” said he, simply, wringing his poor -trembling hands. - -“No, no, uncle,” exclaimed she, in a sudden burst of her just and -excellent being. “It would be wrong. Forgive me, I beg of you.” - -He resumed his walk, his step once more broke the funereal silence -of the house. And when she left him, he was still going on in that -obstinate locomotion of great griefs, which turn round themselves -without ever being able to get beyond. - -Denise passed another sleepless night. She had just touched the bottom -of her powerlessness. Even in favour of her own people she was unable to -find any consolation. She had been obliged to assist to the bitter end -at this invincible work of life which requires death as its continual -seed. She no longer struggled, she accepted this law of combat; but her -womanly soul was filled with a weeping pity, with a fraternal tenderness -at the idea of suffering humanity. For years, she herself had been -caught in the wheel-work of the machine. Had she not bled there? Had -they not bruised her, dismissed her, overwhelmed her with insults? Even -now she was frightened, when she felt herself chosen by the logic of -facts. Why her, a girl so puny? Why should her small hand suddenly -become so powerful amidst the monster's work? And the force which was -sweeping everything away, carried her away in her turn, she, whose -coming was to be a revenge. Mouret had invented this mechanism for -crushing the world, and its brutal working shocked her; he had sown ruin -all over the neighbourhood, despoiled some, killed others; and yet she -loved him for the grandeur of his work, she loved him still more at -every excess of his power, notwithstanding the flood of tears which -overcame her, before the sacred misery of the vanquished. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -The Rue du Dix-Décembre, looking quite new with its chalk-white houses -and the final scaffoldings of some nearly finished buildings, stretched -out beneath a clear February sun; a stream of carriages was passing at -a rattling pace through this gleam of light, which traversed the -damp shadow of the old Saint-Roch quarter; and, between the Rue de -la Michodière and the Rue de Choiseul, there was a great tumult, the -crushing of a crowd excited by a month's advertising, their eyes in -the air, gaping at the monumental façade of The Ladies' Paradise, -inaugurated that Monday, on the occasion of a grand show of white goods. - -The bright new masonry displayed a vast development of polychromatic -architecture, relieved by gildings, announcing the tumult and sparkle -of the business inside, and attracting attention like a gigantic -window-display all aglow with the liveliest colours. In order not to -neutralise the show of goods, the decoration of the ground floor was of -a sober description; the base of sea-green marble; the corner pillars -and the supporting columns were covered with black marble, the severity -of which was relieved by gilded medallions; and the rest of plate-glass, -in iron sashes, nothing but glass, which seemed to open up the depths -of the halls and galleries to the full light of day. But as the floors -ascended, the tones became brighter. The frieze on the ground floor was -decorated with a series of mosaics, a garland of red and blue flowers, -alternating with marble slabs, on which were cut the names of goods, -running all round, encircling the colossus. Then the base of the first -floor, made of enamelled bricks, supported the large windows, as high as -the frieze, formed of gilded escutcheons, with the arms of the towns of -France, and designs in terra-cotta, the enamel of which reproduced -the bright coloured flowers of the base. Then, right at the top, the -entablature blossomed forth like the ardent florescence of the entire -façade, the mosaics and the faience reappeared with warmer colourings, -the zinc gutters were carved and gilded, while along the acroteria ran -a nation of statues, representing the great industrial and manufacturing -cities, their delicate silhouettes standing out against the sky. The -spectators were especially astonished at the sight of the central door, -also decorated with a profusion of mosaics, faience, and terra-cotta, -and surmounted by an allegorical group, the new gilding of which -glittered in the sun: Woman dressed and kissed by a flight of laughing -cupids. - -About two o'clock the police were obliged to make the crowd move on, and -to look after the carriages. The palace was built, the temple raised to -the extravagant folly of fashion. It dominated everything, covering -a whole district with its shadow. The scar left on its flank by the -demolition of Bourras's hovel had already been so skilfully cicatrised -that it would have been impossible to find the place formerly occupied -by this old wart--the four façades now ran along the four streets, -without a break in their superb isolation. Since Baudu's retirement, The -Old Elbeuf, on the other side of the way, had been closed, walled up like -a tomb, behind the shutters that were never now taken down; little by -little the cab-wheels had splashed them, posters covered them up and -pasted them together, a rising tide of advertising, which seemed like -the last shovelful of earth thrown over the old-fashioned commerce; and, -in the middle of this dead frontage, dirtied by the mud from the street, -discoloured by the refuse of Paris, was displayed, like a flag planted -over a conquered empire, an immense yellow poster, quite wet, announcing -in letters two feet high the great sale at The Ladies' Paradise. It -was as if the colossus, after each enlargement, seized with shame and -repugnance for the black old quarter, where it had modestly sprung up, -and that it had later on slaughtered, had just turned its back to it, -leaving the mud of the narrow streets in its track, presenting its -upstart face to the noisy, sunny thoroughfare of new Paris. - -As it was now represented in the engraving of the advertisements, it had -grown bigger and bigger, like the ogre of the legend, whose shoulders -threatened to pierce the clouds. In the first place, in the foreground -of the engraving, were the Rue du Dix-Décembre, the Rue de la -Michodière, and the Rue de Choiseul, filled with little black figures, -and spread out immoderately, as if to make room for the customers of the -whole world. Then came a bird's eye view of the buildings themselves, -of an exaggerated immensity, with their roofings which described the -covered galleries, the glazed courtyards in which could be recognised -the halls, the endless detail of this lake of glass and zinc shining in -the sun. Beyond, stretched forth Paris, but Paris diminished, eaten -up by the monster: the houses, of a cottage-like humility in the -neighbourhood of the building, then dying away in a cloud of indistinct -chimneys; the monuments seemed to melt into nothing, to the left -two dashes for Notre-Dame, to the right a circumflex accent for the -Invalides, in the background the Pantheon, ashamed and lost, no larger -than a lentil. The horizon, crumbled into powder, became no more than -a contemptible frame-work, as far as the heights of Châtillon, out -into the open country, the vanishing expanse of which indicated how far -reached the state of slavery. - -Ever since the morning the crowd had been increasing. No shop had ever -yet stirred up the city with such a profusion of advertisements. The -Ladies' Paradise now spent nearly six hundred thousand francs a year -in posters, advertisements, and appeals of all sorts; the number of -catalogues sent away amounted to four hundred thousand, more than a -hundred thousand francs' worth of stuff was cut up for patterns. It was -a complete invasion of the newspapers, the walls, and the ears of the -public, like a monstrous brass trumpet, which, blown incessantly, spread -to the four corners of the earth the tumult of the great sales. And, for -the future, this façade, before which people were now crowding, became -a living advertisement, with its bespangled, gilded magnificence, its -windows large enough to display the entire poem of woman's clothing, its -profusion of signs, painted, engraved, and cut in stone, from the -marble slabs on the ground floor to the sheets of iron rounded off in -semicircles above the roof, unfolding their gilded streamers on which -the name of the house could be read in letters bright as the sun, -standing out against the azure blue of the sky. - -To celebrate the inauguration, there had been added trophies and flags; -each storey was gay with banners and standards bearing the arms of -the principal cities of France; and right at the top, the flags of all -nations, run up on masts, fluttered in the air, while the show of cotton -and linen goods downstairs assumed in the windows a tone of blinding -intensity. Nothing but white, a complete trousseau, and a mountain of -sheets to the left, a lot of curtains forming a chapel, and pyramids -of handkerchiefs to the right, fatigued the eyes; and, between the -hung goods at the door, whole pieces of cotton, calico, and muslin in -clusters, like snow-drifts, were planted some dressed engravings, sheets -of bluish cardboard, on which a young bride, or a lady in ball costume, -both life size and dressed in real lace and silk, smiled with their -painted faces. A circle of idlers was constantly forming, a desire arose -from the admiration of the crowd. - -What caused an increase of curiosity around The Ladies' Paradise was a -catastrophe of which all Paris was talking, the burning down of The Four -Seasons, the big shop Bouthemont had opened near the Opera-house, hardly -three weeks before. The newspapers were full of details, of the fire -breaking out through an explosion of gas during the night, the hurried -flight of the young ladies in their night-dresses, and the heroic -conduct of Bouthemont, who had carried five of them out on his -shoulders. The enormous losses were covered, and the people commenced to -shrug their shoulders, saying what a splendid advertisement it was. -But for the moment attention again flowed back to The Ladies' Paradise, -excited by all these stories flying about, occupied to a wonderful -extent by these colossal establishments, which by their importance took -up such a large place in public life. Wonderfully lucky, this Mouret! -Paris saluted her star, and crowded to see him still standing, since -the very flames now undertook to sweep all competition from beneath -his feet; and the profits of the season were already being calculated, -people began to estimate the swollen flood of customers which would -be sent into his shop by the forced closing of the rival house. For a -moment he had felt anxious, troubled at feeling a jealous woman against -him, that Madame Desforges, to whom he owed in a manner his fortune. -Baron Hartmann's financial dilettantism, putting money into the two -affairs, annoyed him also. Then he was exasperated at having missed a -genial idea which had occurred to Bouthemont, who had artfully had his -shop blessed by the vicar of the Madeleine, followed by all his -clergy; an astonishing ceremony, a religious pomp paraded from the -silk department to the glove department, and so on throughout the -establishment. This imposing ceremony had not, it is true, prevented -everything being destroyed, but had done as much good as a million -francs' worth of advertisements, so great an impression had it produced -on the fashionable world. From that day, Mouret dreamed of having the -archbishop. - -The clock over the door was striking three, and the afternoon crush had -commenced, nearly a hundred thousand customers were struggling in the -various galleries and halls. Outside, the carriages were stationed from -one end of the Rue du Dix-Décembre to the other, and over against the -Opera-house another compact mass occupied the _cul-de-sac_, where the -future avenue was to commence. Common cabs were mingled with private -broughams, the drivers waiting amongst the wheels, the rows of horses -neighing and shaking their bits, which sparkled in the sun. The lines -were incessantly reformed, amidst the calls of the messengers, the -poshing of the animals which closed in of their own accord, whilst fresh -vehicles were continually arriving and taking their places with the -rest. The pedestrians flew on to the refuges in frightened bands, the -pavements were black with people, in the receding perspective of the -wide and straight thoroughfare. And a clamour arose from between -the white houses, this human stream rolled along under the soul of -overflowing Paris, a sweet and enormous breath, of which one could feel -the giant caress. - -Madame de Boves, accompanied by her daughter Blanche and Madame -Guibal, was standing, at a window, looking at a display of half made up -costumes. - -“Oh! do look,” said she, “at those print costumes at nineteen francs -fifteen sous!” - -In their square boxes, the costumes, tied round with a favour, were -folded so as to present the trimmings alone, embroidered with blue and -red; and, occupying the corner of each box, was an engraving showing the -garment made up, worn by a young person looking like some princess. - -“But they are not worth more,” murmured Madame Guibal. “They fall into -rags as soon as you handle them.” - -They had now become intimate since Monsieur de Boves had been confined -to his arm-chair by an attack of gout. The wife put up with the -mistress, preferring that things should take place in her own house, for -in this way she picked up a little pocket money, sums that the husband -allowed himself to be robbed of, having, himself, need of forbearance. - -“Well! let's go in,” resumed Madame Guibal “We must see their show. -Hasn't your son-in-law made an appointment with you inside?” - -Madame de Boves did not reply, entirely absorbed by the string of -carriages, which, one by one, opened their doors and let out more -customers. - -“Yes,” said Blanche, at last, in her indolent voice. “Paul is to join us -about four o'clock in the reading-room, on leaving the ministry.” - -They had been married about a month, and De Vallagnosc, after a leave of -absence of three weeks, spent in the South of France, had just returned -to his post. The young woman had already her mother's portly look, and -her flesh appeared puffed up and coarser since her marriage. - -“But there's Madame Desforges over there!” exclaimed the countess, -looking at a brougham that had just arrived. - -“Do you think so?” murmured Madame Guibal. “After all those stories! She -must still be weeping over the fire at The Four Seasons.” - -It was really Henriette. On perceiving her friends, she came up with a -gay, smiling air, concealing her defeat beneath the fashionable ease of -her manner. - -“Dear me! yes, I wanted to have a look round. It's better to see for -one's self, isn't it? Oh! we are still good friends with Monsieur -Mouret, though he is said to be furious since I have interested myself -in that rival house. Personally, there is only one thing I cannot -forgive him, and that is, to have pushed on the marriage of my protege, -Mademoiselle de Fontenailles, with that Joseph----” - -“What! it's done?” interrupted Madame de Boves. “What a horror!” - -“Yes, my dear, and solely to annoy us. I know him; he wished to intimate -that the daughters of our great families are only fit to marry his shop -messengers.” - -She was getting quite animated. They had all four remained on the -pavement, amidst the pushing at the entrance. Little by little, however, -the stream carried them in; and they had only to abandon themselves -to the current, they passed the door as if lifted up, without being -conscious of it, talking louder to make themselves heard. They were now -asking each other about Madame Marty; it was said that poor Monsieur -Marty, after violent scenes at home, had gone quite mad; he was diving -into all the treasures of the earth, exhausting mines of gold, loading -tumbrils with diamonds and precious stones. - -“Poor fellow!” said Madame Guibal, “he who was always so shabby, with -his teacher's humility! And the wife?” - -“She's ruining an uncle, now,” replied Henriette, “a worthy old man who -has gone to live with her, having lost his wife. But she must be here, -we shall see her.” - -A surprise made the ladies stop short. Before them extended the shop, -the largest drapery establishment in the world, as the advertisements -said. The grand central gallery now ran from end to end, extending from -the Rue du Dix-Décembre to the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin; whilst to the -right and to the left, like the aisles of a church, ran the Monsigny -Gallery and the Michodière Gallery, right along the two streets, without -a break. Here and there the halls crossed and formed open spaces amidst -the metallic framework of the suspended stairs and flying bridges. The -inside arrangements had been all changed: the bargains were now placed -on the Rue du Dix-Décembre side, the silk department was in the centre, -the glove department occupied the Saint-Augustin Hall at the back; and, -from the new grand vestibule, one beheld, on looking up, the bedding -department, moved from one end of the second floor to the other. The -number of departments now amounted to the enormous figure of fifty; -several, quite fresh, were to be inaugurated that very day; others, -become too important, had been simply divided, in order to facilitate -the sales; and, owing to this continual increase of business, the staff -had been increased to three thousand and forty-five employees. - -What caused the ladies to stop was the prodigious spectacle of the grand -exhibition of white goods. In the first place, there was the vestibule, -a hall with bright mirrors, paved with mosaics, where the low-priced -goods detained the voracious crowd. Then there were the galleries, -plunged in a glittering blaze of light, a borealistic vista, quite a -country of snow, revealing the endless steppes hung with ermine, the -accumulation of icebergs shimmering in the sun. One found there the -whiteness of the outside windows, but vivified, colossal, burning from -one end of the enormous building to the other, with the white flame of a -fire in full swing. Nothing but white goods, all the white articles from -each department, a riot of white, a white star, the twinkling of which -was at first blinding, so that the details could not be distinguished -amidst this unique whiteness. But the eye soon became accustomed to it; -to the left, in the Monsigny Gallery, jutted out the white promontories -of cotton and calico, the white rocks formed of sheets, napkins, and -handkerchiefs; whilst to the right, in the Michodière Gallery, occupied -by the mercery, the hosiery, and the woollen goods, were exposed -constructions of mother of pearl buttons, a pretty decoration composed -of white socks, one whole room covered with white swanskin, traversed -in the distance by a stream of light. But the brightness shone with -especial brilliancy in the central gallery, amidst the ribbons and the -cravats, the gloves and the silks. The counters disappeared beneath the -whiteness of the silks, the ribbons, and the gloves. - -Round the iron columns were twined flounces of white muslin, looped -up now and again with white silk handkerchiefs. The staircases were -decorated with white drapings, quiltings and dimities alternating along -the balustrades, encircling the halls as high as the second storey; and -this tide of white assumed wings, hurried off and lost itself, like a -flight of swans. And the white hung from the arches, a fall of down, a -snowy sheet of large flakes; white counterpanes, white coverlets floated -about in the air, suspended like banners in a church; long jets -of Maltese lace hung across, seeming to suspend swarms of white -butterflies; other lace fluttered about on all sides, floating like -fleecy clouds in a summer sky, filling the air with their clear breath. -And the marvel, the altar of this religion of white was, above the silk -counter, in the great hall, a tent formed of white curtains, which fell -from the glazed roof. The muslin, the gauze, the lace flowed in light -ripples, whilst very richly embroidered tulles, and pieces of oriental -silk striped with silver, served as a background to this giant -decoration, which partook of the tabernacle and of the alcove. It made -one think of a broad white bed, awaiting in its virginal immensity -the white princess, as in the legend, she who was to come one day, all -powerful, with the bride's white veil. - -“Oh! extraordinary!” repeated the ladies. “Wonderful!” - -They never tired of this song in praise of white that the goods of the -entire establishment were singing. Mouret had never conceived anything -more extraordinary; it was the master stroke of his genius for display. -Beneath the flow of all this whiteness, in the apparent disorder of -the tissues, fallen as if by chance from the open drawers, there was a -harmonious phrase, the white followed up and developed in all its -tones, springing into existence, growing, and blossoming forth with the -complicated orchestration of a master's fugue, the continual development -of which carries away the mind in an ever-increasing flight. Nothing but -white, and never the same goods, all styles outvying with, opposing, and -completing one another, attaining the very brilliancy of light itself. -Starting from the dull shades of the calico and linen, and the heavy -shades of the flannel and cloth, there then came the velvet, silk, and -satin goods--quite an ascending gamut, the white gradually lighted up, -finishing in little flames at the breaks of the folds; and the white -flew away in the transparencies of the curtains, becoming free and clear -with the muslin, the lace, and above all the tulle, so light and airy -that it was like the extreme and last note; whilst the silver of the -oriental silk sung higher than all in the depths of the giant alcove. - -The place was full of life. The lifts were besieged with people, there -was a crush at the refreshment-bar and in the reading-room, quite a -nation was moving about in these regions covered with the snowy fabrics. -And the crowd seemed to be black, like skaters on a Polish lake in -December. On the ground floor there was a heavy swell, agitated by a -reflux, in which could be distinguished nothing but the delicate and -enraptured faces of the women. In the chisellings of the iron framework, -along the staircases, on the flying bridges, there was an endless -procession of small figures, as if lost amidst the snowy peaks of a -mountain. A suffocating hot-house heat surprised one on these frozen -heights. The buzz of voices made a great noise like a rushing stream. Up -above, the profusion of gildings, the glazed work picked out with gold, -and the golden roses seemed like a ray of the sun shining on the Alps of -the grand exhibition of white goods. - -“Come,” said Madame de Boves, “we must go forward. It's impossible to -stay here.” - -Since she came in, Jouve, the inspector, standing near the door, had not -taken his eyes off her; and when she turned round she encountered his -gaze. Then, as she resumed her walk, he let her get a little in front, -but followed her at a distance, without, however, appearing to take any -further notice of her. - -“Ah!” said Madame Guibal, stopping again as she came to the first -pay-desk, “it's a pretty idea, these violets!” - -She referred to the new present made by The Ladies' Paradise, one of -Mouret's ideas, which was making a great noise in the newspapers; small -bouquets of white violets, bought by thousands at Nice and distributed -to every customer buying the smallest article. Near each pay-desk were -messengers in uniform, delivering the bouquets under the supervision -of an inspector. And gradually all the customers were decorated in this -way, the shop was filling with these white flowers, every woman becoming -the bearer of a penetrating perfume of violets. - -“Yes,” murmured Madame Desforges, in a jealous voice, “it's not a bad -idea.” - -But, just as they were going away, they heard two shopmen joking about -these violets. A tall, thin fellow was expressing his astonishment: -the marriage between the governor and the first-hand in the costume -department was coming off, then? whilst a short, fat fellow replied that -he didn't know, but that the flowers were bought at any rate. - -“What!” exclaimed Madame de Boves, “Monsieur Mouret is going to marry?” - -“That's the latest news,” replied Madame Desforges, affecting the -greatest indifference. “Of course, he's sure to end like that.” - -The countess shot a quick glance at her new friend. They both now -understood why Madame Desforges had come to The Ladies' Paradise -notwithstanding her rupture with Mouret. No doubt she yielded to the -invincible desire to see and to suffer. - -“I shall stay with you,” said Madame Guibal, whose curiosity was -awakened. “We shall meet Madame de Boves again in the reading-room.” - -“Very good,” replied the latter. “I want to go on the first floor. Come -along, Blanche.” And she went up followed by her daughter, whilst Jouve, -the inspector, still on her track, ascended by another staircase, in -order not to attract attention. The two other ladies were soon lost in -the compact crowd on the ground floor. - -All the counters were talking of nothing else but the governor's love -affairs, amidst the press of business. The adventure, which had -for months been occupying the employees, delighted at Denise's long -resistance, had all at once come to a crisis; it had become known that -the young girl intended to leave The Ladies' Paradise, notwithstanding -all Mouret's entreaties, under the pretext of requiring rest. And the -opinions were divided. Would she leave? Would she stay? Bets of five -francs circulated from department to department that she would leave the -following Sunday. The knowing ones staked a lunch on the final marriage; -however, the others, those who believed in her departure, did not risk -their money without good reasons. Certainly the little girl had the -strength of an adored woman who refuses, but the governor, on his side, -was strong in his wealth, his happy widowerhood, and his pride which a -last exaction might exasperate. Nevertheless, they were all of opinion -that this little saleswoman had carried on the business with the science -of a _rouée_, full of genius, and that she was playing the supreme stake -in thus offering him this bargain: Marry me or I go away. - -Denise, however, thought but little of these things. She had never -imposed any conditions or made any calculation. And the reason of her -departure was the result of this very judgment of her conduct, which -caused her continual surprise. Had she wished for all this? Had she -shown herself artful, coquettish, ambitious? No, she had come simply, -and was the first to feel astonished at inspiring this passion. And -again, now, why did they ascribe her resolution to quit The Ladies' -Paradise to craftiness? It was so natural! She began to feel a nervous -uneasiness, an intolerable anguish, amidst this continual gossip which -was going on in the house, Mouret's feverish pursuit of her, and the -combats she was obliged to engage in against herself; and she preferred -to go away, seized with fear lest she might one day yield and regret it -for ever afterwards. If there were in this any learned tactics, she was -totally ignorant of it, and she asked herself in despair what was to -be done to avoid appearing to be running after a husband. The idea of a -marriage now irritated her, and she resolved to say no, and still no, in -case he should push his folly to that extent. She alone ought to suffer. -The necessity for the separation caused her tears to flow, but she told -herself, with her great courage, that it was necessary, that she would -have no rest or happiness if she acted in any other way. - -When Mouret received her resignation, he remained mute and cold, in the -effort which he made to contain himself. Then he replied that he granted -her a week's reflection, before allowing her to commit such a stupid -act. At the expiration of the week, when she returned to the subject, -and expressed a strong wish to go away after the great sale, he said -nothing further, but affected to talk the language of reason to her: she -had little or no fortune, she would never find another position equal to -that she was leaving. Had she another situation in view? If so, he -was quite prepared to offer her the advantages she expected to obtain -elsewhere. And the young girl having replied that she had not looked -for any other situation, that she intended to take a rest at Valognes, -thanks to the money she had already saved, he asked her what would -prevent her returning to The Ladies' Paradise if her health alone were -the reason of her departure. She remained silent, tortured by this -cross-examination. He at once imagined that she was about to join -a lover, a future husband perhaps. Had she not confessed to him one -evening that she loved some one? From that moment he carried deep in his -heart, like the stab of a knife, this confession wrung from her in an -hour of trouble. And if this man was to marry her, she was giving up -all to follow him: that explained her obstinacy. It was all over, and he -simply added in his icy tones, that he would detain her no longer, since -she could not tell him the real cause of her leaving. These harsh words, -free from anger, affected her far more than the anger she had feared. - -Throughout the week that Denise was obliged to spend in the shop, Mouret -kept his rigid paleness. When he crossed the departments, he affected -not to see her, never had he seemed more indifferent, more buried in his -work; and the bets began again, only the brave ones dared to back the -marriage. However, beneath this coldness, so unusual with him, Mouret -concealed a frightful crisis of indecision and suffering. Fits of anger -brought the blood to his head: he saw red, he dreamed of taking Denise -in a close embrace, keeping her, and stifling her cries. Then he tried -to reason with himself, to find some practical means of preventing her -going away; but he constantly ran up against his powerlessness, the -uselessness of his power and money. An idea, however, was growing amidst -his mad projects, and gradually imposing itself, notwithstanding his -revolt. After Madame Hédouin's death he had sworn never to marry again; -deriving from a woman his first good fortune, he resolved in future to -draw his fortune from all women. It was with him, as with Bourdoncle, -a superstition that the head of a great drapery establishment should -be single, if he wished to retain his masculine power over the growing -desires of his world of customers; the introduction of a woman changed -the air, drove away the others, by bringing her own odour. And he still -resisted the invincible logic of facts, preferring to die rather than -yield, seized with sudden bursts of fury against Denise, feeling -that she was the revenge, fearing he should fall vanquished over his -millions, broken like a straw by the eternal feminine force, the day he -should marry her. Then he slowly became cowardly again, dismissing his -repugnance; why tremble? she was so sweet-tempered, so prudent, that -he could abandon himself to her without fear. Twenty times an hour the -battle recommenced in his distracted mind. His pride tended to aggravate -the wound, and he completely lost his reason when he thought that, -even after this last submission, she might still say no, if she loved -another. The morning of the great sale, he had still not decided on -anything, and Denise was to leave the next day. - -When Bourdoncle, on the day in question, entered Mouret's office about -three o'clock, according to custom, he surprised him sitting with his -elbows on the desk, his hands over his eyes, so greatly absorbed that he -had to touch him on the shoulder. Mouret glanced up, his face bathed -in tears; they both looked at each other, held out their hands, and a -hearty grip was exchanged between these two men who had fought so -many commercial battles side by side. For the past month Bourdoncle's -attitude had completely changed; he now bowed before Denise, and even -secretly pushed the governor on to a marriage with her. No doubt he was -thus manoeuvring to save himself being swept away by a force which -he now recognised as superior. But there could have been found at the -bottom of this change the awakening of an old ambition, the timid and -gradually growing hope to swallow up in his turn this Mouret, before -whom he had so long bowed. This was in the air of the house, in this -struggle for existence, of which the continued massacres warmed up the -business around him. He was carried away by the working of the machine, -seized by the others' appetites, by that voracity which, from top to -bottom, drove the lean ones to the extermination of the fat ones. But -a sort of religions fear, the religion of chance, had up to that -time prevented him making the attempt. And the governor was becoming -childish, drifting into a ridiculous marriage, ruining his luck, -destroying his charm with the customers. Why should he dissuade him from -it, when he could so easily take up the business of this played-out -man, fallen into the arms of a woman? Thus it was with the emotion of -an adieu, the pity of an old friendship, that he shook his chiefs hand, -saying: - -“Come, come, courage! Marry her, and finish the matter.” - -Mouret already felt ashamed of his moment of cowardice, and got up, -protesting: “No, no, it's too stupid. Come, let's take our turn round -the shop. Things are looking well, aren't they? I fancy we shall have a -magnificent day.” - -They went out and commenced their afternoon inspection through the -crowded departments. Bourdoncle cast oblique glances at him, anxious at -this last display of energy, watching his lips to catch the least sign -of suffering. The business was in fact throwing forth its fire, in an -infernal roar, which made the house tremble with the violent shaking of -a big steamer going at full speed. At Denise's counter were a crowd of -mothers dragging along their little girls and boys, swamped beneath the -garments they were trying on. The department had brought out all its -white articles, and there, as everywhere else, was a riot of white, -enough to dress in white a troop of shivering cupids, white cloth -cloaks, white piques and cashmere dresses, sailor costumes, and even -white Zouave costumes. In the centre, for the sake of the effect, -and although the season had not arrived, was a display of communion -costumes, the white muslin dress and veil, the white satin shoes, a -light gushing florescence, which, planted there, produced the effect of -an enormous bouquet of innocence and candid delight. Madame Bourdelais -was there with her three children, Madeleine, Edmond, Lucien, seated -according to their size, and was getting angry with the latter, the -smallest, because he was struggling with Denise, who was trying to put a -woollen muslin jacket on him. - -“Keep still, Lucien! Don't you think it's rather tight, mademoiselle?” - And with the sharp look of a woman difficult to deceive, she examined -the stuff, studied the cut, and scrutinized the stitching. “No, it fits -well,” she resumed. “It's no trifle to dress all these little ones. Now -I want a mantle for this young lady.” - -Denise had been obliged to assist in serving during the busy moments of -the day. She was looking for the mantle required, when she set up a cry -of surprise. - -“What! It's you; what's the matter?” - -Her brother Jean, holding a parcel in his hand, was standing before -her. He had married a week before, and on the Saturday his wife, a dark -little woman, with a provoking, charming face, had paid a long visit to -The Ladies' Paradise to make some purchases. The young people were -to accompany Denise to Valognes, a regular marriage trip, a month's -holiday, which would remind them of old times. - -“Just imagine,” said he, “Thérèse has forgotten a lot of things. There -are some articles to be changed, and others to be bought. So, as she was -in a hurry, she sent me with this parcel. I'll explain----” - -But she interrupted him on perceiving Pépé, “What; Pépé as well! and his -school?” - -“Well,” said Jean, “after dinner on Sunday I had not the heart to -take him back. He will go back this evening. The poor child is very -downhearted at being shut up in Paris whilst we are enjoying ourselves -at home.” - -Denise smiled on them, in spite of her suffering. She handed over Madame -Bourdelais to one of her young ladies, and came back to them in a corner -of the department, which was, fortunately, getting deserted. The little -ones, as she still called them, had now grown to be big fellows. Pépé, -twelve years old, was already taller and bigger than her, still silent -and living on caresses, of a charming, cajolling sweetness; whilst Jean, -broad-shouldered, was quite a head taller than his sister, and still -possessed his feminine beauty, with his blonde hair blowing about in the -wind. And she, always slim, no fatter than a skylark, as she said, still -retained her anxious motherly authority over them, treating them as -children wanting all her attention, buttoning up Jean's coat so that -he should not look like a rake, and seeing that Pépé had got a clean -handkerchief. When she saw the latter's swollen eyes, she gently chided -him. - -“Be reasonable, my boy. Your studies cannot be interrupted. I'll take -you away at the holidays. Is there anything you want? But perhaps you -prefer to have the money.” Then she turned towards the other. “You, -youngster, yet making him believe we are going to have wonderful fun! -Just try and be a little more careful.” - -She had given Jean four thousand francs, half of her savings, to enable -him to set up housekeeping. The younger one cost her a great deal for -schooling, all her money went for them, as in former days. They were her -sole reason for living and working, for she had again declared she would -never marry. - -“Well, here are the things,” resumed Jean. “In the first place, there's -a cloak in this parcel that Thérèse----” - -But he stopped, and Denise, on turning round to see what had frightened -him, perceived Mouret behind them. For a moment he had stood looking -at her in her motherly attitude between the two big boys, scolding and -embracing them, turning them round as mothers do babies when changing -their clothes. Bourdoncle had remained on one side, appearing to be -interested in the business, but he did not lose sight of this little -scene. - -“They are your brothers, are they not?” asked Mouret, after a silence. - -He had the icy tone and rigid attitude, which he now assumed with her. -Denise herself made an effort to remain cold and unconcerned. Her smile -died away, and she replied: “Yes, sir. I've married off the eldest, and -his wife has sent him for some purchases.” - -Mouret continued looking at the three of them. At last he said: “The -youngest has grown very much. I recognise him, I remember having seen -him in the Tuileries Gardens one evening with you.” - -And his voice, which was becoming moderate, slightly trembled. She, -suffocating, bent down, pretending to arrange Pépé's belt. The two -brothers, who had turned scarlet, stood smiling on their sister's -master. - -“They're very much like you,” said the latter. - -“Oh!” exclaimed she, “they're much handsomer than I am!” - -For a moment he seemed to be comparing their faces. How she loved them! -And he walked a step or two; then returned and whispered in her ear: -“Come to my office after business, I want to speak to you before you go -away.” - -This time Mouret went off and continued his inspection. The battle was -once more raging within him, for the appointment he had given caused him -a sort of irritation. To what idea had he yielded on seeing her with her -brothers? It was maddening to think he could no longer find the strength -to assert his will. However, he could settle it by saying a word of -adieu. Bourdoncle, who had rejoined him, seemed less anxious, though he -was still examining him with stealthy glances. - -Meanwhile Denise had returned to Madame Bourdelais. “How are you getting -on with the mantle, madame?” - -“Oh, very well. I've spent enough for one day. These little ones are -ruining me!” - -Denise now being able to slip away, went and listened to Jean's -explanations, then accompanied him to the various counters, where he -would certainly have lost his head without her. First came the mantle, -which Thérèse wished to change for a white cloth cloak, same size, -same shape. And the young girl, having taken the parcel, went up to the -ready-made department, followed by her two brothers. - -The department had laid out its light coloured garments, summer jackets -and mantillas, of light silk and fancy woollens. But there was little -doing here, the customers were but few and far between. Nearly all the -young ladies were new-comers. Clara had disappeared a month before, some -said she had eloped with the husband of one of the saleswomen, others -that she had gone on the streets. As for Marguerite, she was at last -about to take the management of the little shop at Grenoble, where her -cousin was waiting for her. Madame Aurélie remained immutable, in the -round cuirass of her silk dress, with her imperial mask which retained -the yellowish puffiness of an antique marble. Her son Albert's bad -conduct was a source of great trouble to her, and she would have retired -into the country had it not been for the inroads made on the family -savings by this scapegrace, whose terrible extravagance threatened to -swallow up piece by piece their Rigolles property. It was a sort of -punishment for their home broken up, for the mother had resumed her -little excursions with her lady friends, and the father on his side -continued his musical performances. Bourdoncle was already looking upon -Madame Aurélie with a discontented air, surprised that she had not the -tact to resign; too old for business! the knell was about to sound which -would sweep away the Lhomme dynasty. - -“Ah! it's you,” said she to Denise, with an exaggerated amiability. -“You want this cloak changed, eh? Certainly, at once. Ah! there are your -brothers; getting quite men, I declare!” - -In spite of her pride, she would have gone on her knees to pay her court -to the young girl. Nothing else was being talked of in her department, -as in the others, but Denise's departure; and the first-hand was quite -ill over it, for she had been reckoning on the protection of her former -saleswoman. She lowered her voice: “They say you're going to leave us. -Really, it isn't possible?” - -“But it is, though,” replied Denise. - -Marguerite was listening. Since her marriage had been decided on, she -had marched about with her putty-looking face, assuming more disdainful -airs than ever. She came up saying: “You are quite right. Self-respect -above everything, I say. Allow me to bid you adieu, my dear.” - -Some customers arriving at that moment, Madame Aurélie requested her, -in a harsh voice, to attend to business. Then, as Denise was taking -the cloak to effect the “return” herself, she protested, and called an -auxiliary. This, again, was an innovation suggested to Mouret by the -young girl--persons charged with carrying the articles, which relieved -the saleswomen of a great burden. - -“Go with Mademoiselle Denise,” said the first-hand, giving her the -cloak. Then, returning to Denise: “Pray consider well. We are all -heart-broken at your leaving.” - -Jean and Pépé, who were waiting, smiling amidst this overflowing crowd -of women, followed their sister. They now had to go to the underlinen -department, to get four chemises like the half-dozen that Thérèse had -bought on the Saturday. But there, where the exhibition of white goods -was snowing down from every shelf, they were almost stifled, and found -it very difficult to get past. - -In the first place, at the stay counter a little scene was causing a -crowd to collect. Madame Boutarel, who had arrived in Paris this time -with her husband and daughter, had been wandering all about the shop -since the morning collecting an outfit for the young lady, who was about -to be married. The father was consulted every moment, and they never -appeared likely to finish. At last the family had just stranded here; -and whilst the young lady was absorbed in a profound study of some -drawers, the mother had disappeared, having cast her coquettish eyes on -a delicious pair of stays. When Monsieur Boutarel, a big, full-blooded -man, left his daughter, bewildered, to go and look for his wife, he at -last found her in a fitting-room, at the door of which he was politely -invited to take a seat. These rooms were like narrow cells, glazed with -ground glass, where the men, and even the husbands, were not allowed -to enter, by an exaggerated sentiment of propriety on the part of the -directors. Saleswomen came out and went in again quickly, allowing those -outside to divine, by the rapid closing of the door, visions of ladies -in their petticoats, with bare arms and shoulders--stout women with -white flesh, and thin ones with flesh the colour of old ivory. A row of -men were waiting outside, seated on arm-chairs, and looking very weary. -Monsieur Boutarel, when he understood, got really angry, crying out -that he wanted his wife, that he insisted on knowing what was going on -inside, that he certainly would not allow her to undress without him. It -was in vain that they tried to calm him; he seemed to think there were -some very queer things going on inside. Madame Boutarel was obliged to -come out, to the delight of the crowd, who were discussing and laughing -over the affair. - -Denise and her brothers were at last able to get past. Every article of -female linen, all those white under-things that are usually concealed, -were here displayed, in a suite of rooms, classed in various -departments. The corsets and dress-improvers occupied one counter, there -were the stitched corsets, the Duchesse, the cuirass, and, above all, -the white silk corsets, dove-tailed with colours, forming for this day -a special display; an army of dummies without heads or legs, nothing -but the bust, dolls' breasts flattened under the silk, and close by, -on other dummies, were horse-hair and other dress improvers, prolonging -these broomsticks into enormous, distended croups, of which the profile -assumed a ludicrous unbecomingness. But afterwards commenced the gallant -dishabille, a dishabille which strewed the vast rooms, as if an army -of lovely girls had undressed themselves from department to department, -down to the very satin of their skin. Here were articles of fine linen, -white cuffs and cravats, white fichus and collars, an infinite variety -of light gewgaws, a white froth which escaped from the drawers and -ascended like so much snow. There were jackets, little bodices, morning -dresses and peignoirs, linen, nansouck, long white garments, roomy -and thin, which spoke of the lounging in a lazy morning after a night -of tenderness. Then appeared the under-garments, falling one by one; the -white petticoats of all lengths, the petticoat that clings to the knees, -and the long petticoat with which the gay ladies sweep the pavement, a -rising sea of petticoats, in which the legs were drowned; cotton, linen, -and cambric drawers, large white drawers in which a man could dance; -lastly, the chemises, buttoned at the neck for the night, or displaying -the bosom in the day, simply supported by narrow shoulder-straps; -chemises in all materials, common calico, Irish linen, cambric, the last -white veil slipping from the panting bosom and hips. - -And, at the outfitting counter, there was an indiscreet unpacking, women -turned round and viewed on all sides, from the small housewife with her -common calicoes, to the rich lady drowned in laces, an alcove publicly -open, of which the concealed luxury, the plaitings, the embroideries, -the Valenciennes lace, became a sort of sexual depravation, as it -developed into costly fantasies. Woman was dressing herself again, the -white wave of this fall of linen was returning again to the shivering -mystery of the petticoats, the chemise stiffened by the fingers of the -workwomen, the frigid drawers retaining the creases of the box, all this -cambric and muslin, dead, scattered over the counters, thrown about, -heaped up, was going to become living, with the life of the flesh, -odorous and warm with the odour of love, a white cloud become sacred, -bathed in night, and of which the least flutter, the pink of a knee -disclosed through the whiteness, ravaged the world. Then there was -another room devoted to the baby linen, where the voluptuous snowy -whiteness of woman's clothing developed into the chaste whiteness of -the infant: an innocence, a joy, the young wife become a mother, flannel -garments, chemises and caps large as doll's things, baptismal dresses, -cashmere pelisses, the white down of birth, like a fine shower of white -feathers. - -“They are embroidered chemises,” said Jean, who was delighted with this -display, this rising tide of feminine attire into which he was plunging. - -Pauline ran up at once, when she perceived Denise; and before even -asking what she wanted, began to talk in a low tone, stirred up by the -rumours circulating in the shop. In her department, two saleswomen had -even got quarrelling, one affirming and the other denying her departure. - -“You'll stay with us, I'll stake my life. What would become of me?” And -as Denise replied that she intended to leave the next day. “No, no, you -think so, but I know better. You must appoint me second-hand, now that -I've got a baby. Baugé is reckoning on it, my dear.” - -Pauline smiled with an air of conviction. She then gave the six -chemises; and, Jean having said that he was now going to the -handkerchief counter, she called an auxiliary to carry the chemises and -the jacket left by the auxiliary from the readymade department The -girl who happened to answer was Mademoiselle de Fontenailles, recently -married to Joseph. She had just obtained this menial situation as a -great favour, and she wore a long black blouse, marked on the shoulder -with a number in yellow wool. - -“Follow this young lady,” said Pauline. Then returning, and again -lowering her voice: “It's understood that I am to be appointed -second-hand, eh?” - -Denise, troubled, defended herself; but at last promised, with a laugh, -joking in her turn. And she went away, going down with Jean and Pépé, -and followed by the auxiliary. On the ground-floor, they fell into -the woollen department, a corner of a gallery entirely hung with white -swanskin cloth and white flannel. Liénard, whom his father had vainly -recalled to Angers, was talking to the handsome Mignot, now a traveller, -and who had boldly reappeared at The Ladies' Paradise. No doubt they -were speaking of Denise, for they both stopped talking to bow to -her with a ceremonious air. In fact, as she went along through the -departments the salesmen appeared full of emotion and bent their heads -before her, uncertain of what she might be the next day. They whispered, -thought she looked triumphant, and the betting was again altered; -they began to risk bottles of wine, etc., over the event. She had gone -through the linen-gallery, in order to get to the handkerchief counter, -which was at the further end. They saw nothing but white goods: cottons, -madapolams, muslins, etc.; then came the linen, in enormous piles, -ranged in alternate pieces like blocks of stone, stout linen, fine -linen, of all sizes, white and unbleached, pure flax, whitened in the -sun; then the same thing commenced once more, there were departments for -each sort of linen: house linen, table linen, kitchen linen, a continual -fall of white goods, sheets, pillow-cases, innumerable styles of -napkins, aprons, and dusters. And the bowing continued, they made way -for Denise to pass, Baugé had rushed out to smile on her, as the good -fairy of the house. At last, after crossing the counterpane department, -a room hung with white banners, she arrived at the handkerchief counter, -the ingenious decoration of which delighted the crowd; there were -nothing but white columns, white pyramids, white castles, a complicated -architecture, solely composed of handkerchiefs, cambric, Irish linen, -China silk, marked, embroidered by hand, trimmed with lace, hemstitched, -and woven with vignettes, an entire city, built of white bricks, of -infinite variety, standing out in a mirage against an Eastern sky, -warmed to a white heat. - -“You say another dozen?” asked Denise of her brother. - -“Yes, like this one,” replied he, showing a handkerchief in his parcel. - -Jean and Pépé had not quitted her side, clinging to her, as they had -done formerly, on arriving in Paris, knocked up by the journey. This -vast shop, in which she was quite at home, seemed to trouble them, and -they sheltered themselves in her shadow, placing themselves under the -protection of their second mother by an instinctive awakening of their -infancy. People watched them as they passed, smiling at the two big -fellows following in the footsteps of this grave thin girl; Jean -frightened with his beard, Pépé bewildered in his tunic, all three of -the same fair complexion, a fairness which caused the whisper from one -end of the counters to the other: “They are her brothers! They are her -brothers!” - -But whilst Denise was looking for a saleswoman there was a meeting. -Mouret and Bourdoncle entered the gallery; and as the former again -stopped in front of the young girl, without, however, speaking to her, -Madame Desforges and Madame Guibal passed by. Henriette suppressed the -shiver which had invaded her whole being; she looked at Mouret and -then at Denise. They had also looked at her, and it was a sort of mute -catastrophe, the common end of these great dramas of the heart, a glance -exchanged in the crush of a crowd. Mouret had already gone off, whilst -Denise lost herself in the depths of the department, accompanied by her -brothers, still in search of a disengaged salesman. But Henriette having -recognised Mademoiselle de Fontenailles, in the auxiliary following -Denise, with a yellow number on her shoulder, and her coarse, -cadaverous, servant's-looking face, relieved herself by saying to Madame -Guibal, in a trembling voice: - -“Just see what he's doing with that unfortunate girl. Isn't it shameful? -A marchioness! And he makes her follow like a dog the creatures picked -up by him in the street!” She tried to calm herself, adding, with an -affected air of indifference: “Let's go and see their display of silks.” - -The silk department was like a great chamber of love, hung with white -by the caprice of some snowy maiden wishing to show off her spotless -whiteness. All the milky tones of an adored person were there, from the -velvet of the hips, to the fine silk of the thighs and the shining satin -of the bosom. Pieces of velvet hung from the columns, silk and satins -stood out, on this white creamy ground, in draperies of a metallic and -porcelain-like whiteness: and falling in arches were also poult and gros -grain silks, light foulards, and surahs, which varied from the heavy -white of a Norwegian blonde to the transparent white, warmed by the sun, -of an Italian or a Spanish beauty. - -Favier was just then engaged in measuring some white silk for “the -pretty lady,” that elegant blonde, a frequent customer at the counter, -and whom the salesmen never referred to except by this name. She -had dealt at the shop for years, and yet they knew nothing about -her--neither her life, her address, and not even her name. None of them -tried to find out, although they all indulged in supposition every time -she made her appearance, but simply for something to talk about. She -was getting thinner, she was getting stouter, she had slept well, or she -must have been out late the previous night--such were the remarks made -about her: thus every little fact of her unknown life, outside events, -domestic dramas, were in this way reproduced and commented on. That day -she seemed very gay. So, on returning from the pay-desk where he had -conducted her, Favier remarked to Hutin: - -“Perhaps she's going to marry again.” - -“What! is she a widow?” asked the other. - -“I don't know; but you must remember that she was in mourning the -last time she came. Unless she's made some money by speculating on the -Bourse.” A silence ensued. At last he ended by saying: “But that's her -business. It wouldn't do to take notice of all the women we see here.” - -But Hutin was looking very thoughtful, having had, two days ago, a warm -discussion with the direction, and feeling himself condemned. After the -great sale his dismissal was certain. For a long time he had felt his -position giving way; at the last stock-taking they had complained of his -being below the amount of business fixed on in advance; and it was also, -in fact chiefly, the slow working of the appetites that were swallowing -him up in his turn--the whole silent war of the department, amidst -the very motion of the machine. Favier's obscure mining could be -perceived--a deadened sound as of jaw-bones working under the earth. -The latter had already received the promise of the first-hand's place. -Hutin, who was aware of all this, instead of attacking his old comrade, -looked upon him as a clever fellow--a fellow who had always appeared -so cold, so obedient, whom he had made use of to turn out Robineau and -Bouthemont! He was full of a feeling of mingled surprise and respect. - -“By the way,” resumed Favier, “she's going to stay, you know. The -governor has just been seen casting sheep's eyes at her. I shall be let -in for a bottle of champagne over it.” - -He referred to Denise. The gossip was going on more than ever, from -one counter to the other, across the constantly increasing crowd of -customers. The silk sellers were especially excited, for they had been -taking heavy bets about it. - -“By Jove!” exclaimed Hutin, waking up as if from a dream, “wasn't I a -flat not to have slept with her! I should be all right now!” - -Then he blushed at this confession on seeing Favier laughing. He -pretended to laugh also, and added, to recall his words, that it was -this creature that had ruined him with the management However, a desire -for violence seizing him, he finished by getting into a rage with the -salesmen disbanded under the assault of the customers. But all at once -he resumed his smile, having just perceived Madame Desforges and Madame -Guibal slowly crossing the department. - -“What can we serve you with to-day, madame?” - -“Nothing, thanks,” replied Henriette. “You see I'm merely walking round; -I've only come out of curiosity.” - -When he had stopped her, he lowered his voice. Quite a plan was -springing up in his head. And he flattered her, running down the house; -he had had enough of it, and preferred going away to assisting at such -a scene of disorder. She listened to him, delighted. It was she herself -who, thinking to get him away from The Ladies' Paradise, offered to have -him engaged by Bouthemont as first-hand in the silk department, when The -Four Seasons started again. The matter was settled in whispers, whilst -Madame Guibal interested herself in the displays. - -“May I offer you one of these bouquets of violets?” resumed Hutin, -aloud, pointing to a table where there were four or five bunches of the -flowers, which he had procured from the pay-desk for personal presents. - -“Ah, no!” exclaimed Henriette, with a backward movement. “I don't wish -to take any part in the wedding.” - -They understood each other, and separated, exchanging glances of -intelligence. As Madame Desforges was looking for Madame Guibal, she -set up an exclamation of surprise on seeing her with Madame Marty. The -latter, followed by her daughter Valentine, had been carried away for -the last two hours, right through the place, by one of those fits of -spending from which she always emerged tired and confused. She had -roamed about the furniture department that a show of white lacquered -suites of furniture had changed into a vast young girl's room, the -ribbon and neckerchief department forming white vellumy colonnades, the -mercery and lace department, with its white fringes which surrounded -ingenious trophies patiently composed of cards of buttons and packets -of needles, and the hosiery department, in which there was a great crush -this year to see an immense piece of decoration, the name “The Ladies' -Paradise” in letters three yards high, formed of white socks on a -groundwork of red ones. But Madame Marty was especially excited by the -new departments; they could not open a new department without she must -inaugurate it, she was bound to plunge in and buy something. And she had -passed an hour at the millinery counter, installed in a new room on the -ground-floor, having the cupboards emptied, taking the bonnets off the -stands which stood on two tables, trying all of them on herself and her -daughter, white hats, white bonnets, and white turbans. Then she had -gone down to the boot department, at the further end of a gallery on the -ground-floor, behind the cravat department, a counter opened that day, -and which she had turned topsy turvy, seized with sickly desires in the -presence of the white silk slippers trimmed with swansdown, the white -satin boots and shoes with their high Louis XV. heels. - -“Oh! my dear,” she stammered, “you've no idea! They have a wonderful -assortment of hoods. I've chosen one for myself and one for my daughter. -And the boots, eh? Valentine.” - -“It's marvellous!” added the young girl, with her womanly boldness. -“There are some boots at twenty francs and a half which are delicious!” - -A salesman was following them, dragging along the eternal chair, on -which was already heaped a mountain of articles. - -“How is Monsieur Marty?” asked Madame Desforges. - -“Very well, I believe,” replied Madame Marty, bewildered by this brusque -question, which fell ill-naturedly amidst her fever for spending. “He's -still confined, my uncle had to go and see him this morning.” - -“Oh, look! isn't it lovely?” - -The ladies, who had gone on a few steps, found themselves before the -flowers and feathers department, installed in the central gallery, -between the silk and glove departments. It appeared beneath the bright -light of the glass roof as an enormous florescence, a white sheaf, tall -and broad as an oak. The base was formed of single flowers, violets, -lilies of the valley, hyacinths, daisies, all the delicate hues of the -garden. Then came bouquets, white roses, softened by a fleshy tint, -great white pæonies, slightly shaded with carmine, white chrysanthemums, -with narrow petals and starred with yellow. And the flowers still -ascended, great mystical lilies, branches of apple blossom, bunches of -lilac, a continual blossoming, surmounted, as high as the first storey, -by ostrich feathers, white plumes, which were like the airy breath of -this collection of white flowers. One whole corner was devoted to the -display of trimmings and orange-flower wreaths. There were also metallic -flowers, silver thistles and silver ears of com. Amidst the foliage and -the petals, amidst all this muslin, silk, and velvet, where drops of gum -shone like dew, flew birds of Paradise for hats, purple Tangaras with -black tails, and Septicolores with their changing rainbow-like plumage. - -“I'm going to buy a branch of apple-blossom,” resumed Madame Marty. -“It's delicious, isn't it? And that little bird, do look, Valentine. I -must take it!” - -Madame Guibal began to feel tired of standing still in the eddy of the -crowd, and at last said: “Well, we'll leave you to make your purchases. -We're going upstairs.” - -“No, no, wait for me!” cried the other. “I'm going up too. There's the -perfumery department, I must see that.” - -This department, created the day before, was next door to the -reading-room. Madame Desforges, to avoid the crush on the stairs, spoke -of going up in the lift, but they had to abandon the idea, there was -such a crowd waiting their turn. At last they arrived, passing before -the public Refreshment bar, where the crowd was becoming so great that -an inspector had to restrain the people's appetites by only allowing the -gluttonous customers to enter in small groups. And the ladies already -began to smell the perfumery department, a penetrating odour which -scented the whole gallery. There was quite a struggle over one article, -The Paradise soap, a specialty of the house. In the show cases, and -on the crystal tablets of the shelves, were ranged pots of pomade and -paste, boxes of powder and paint, boxes of toilet vinegar; whilst -the fine brushes, combs, scissors, and smelling-bottles occupied a -special place. The salesmen had managed to decorate the shelves with -white porcelain pots and white glass bottles. But what delighted the -customers above all was a silver fountain, a shepherdess seated in the -middle of a harvest of flowers, and from which flowed a continual stream -of violet water, which fell with a musical plash into the metal basin. -An exquisite odour was disseminated around, the ladies dipping their -handkerchiefs in the scent as they passed. - -“There,” said Madame Marty, when she had loaded herself with lotions, -dentrifices, and cosmetics. “Now I've done, I'm at your service. Let's -go and rejoin Madame de Boves.” - -But on the landing of the great central staircase they were again -stopped by the Japanese department. This counter had grown wonderfully -since the day Mouret had amused himself by setting up, in the same -place, a little proposition table, covered with a lot of soiled -articles, without at all foreseeing its future success. Few departments -had had a more modest commencement, and now it overflowed with old -bronzes, old ivories, old lacquer work. He did fifteen hundred thousand -francs' worth of business a year in this department, ransacking the -Far East, where his travellers pillaged the palaces and the temples. -Besides, fresh departments were always springing up, they had tried two -in December, in order to fill up the empty spaces caused by the dead -winter season--a book department and a toy department, which would -certainly grow also and sweep away certain shops in the neighbourhood. -Four years had sufficed for the Japanese department to attract the -entire artistic custom of Paris. This time Madame Desforges herself, -notwithstanding the rancour which had made her swear not to buy -anything, succumbed before some finely carved ivory. - -“Send it to my house,” said she rapidly, at a neighbouring pay-desk. -“Ninety francs, is it not?” And, seeing Madame Marty and her daughter -plunged in a lot of trashy porcelains, she resumed, as she carried -Madame Guibal off: “You will find us in the reading-room, I really must -sit down a little while.” - -In the reading-room they were obliged to remain standing. All the chairs -were occupied, round the large table covered with newspapers. Great fat -fellows were reading and lolling about without even thinking of giving -up their seats to the ladies. A few women were writing, their faces on -the paper, as if to conceal their letters under the flowers of their -hats. Madame de Boves was not there, and Henriette was getting very -impatient when she perceived De Vallagnosc, who was also looking for his -wife and mother-in-law. He bowed, and said: - -“They must be in the lace department--impossible to drag them away. I'll -just see.” And he was gallant enough to procure them two chairs before -going away. - -In the lace department the crush was increasing every minute. The great -show of white was there triumphing in its most delicate and dearest -whiteness. It was an acute temptation, a mad desire, which bewildered -all the women. The department had been turned into a white temple, -tulles and Maltese lace, falling from above, formed a white sky, one -of those cloudy veils which pales the morning sun. Bound the columns -descended flounces of Malines and Valenciennes, white dancers' skirts, -unfolding in a snowy shiver down to the ground. Then on all sides, on -every counter, was a stream of white Spanish blonde as light as air, -Brussels with its large flowers on a delicate mesh, hand-made point, and -Venice point with heavier designs, Alençon point, and Bruges of royal -and almost religious richness. It seemed that the god of dress had there -set up his white tabernacle. - -Madame de Boves, after wandering about for a long time before the -counters with her daughter, and feeling a sensual desire to plunge her -hands into the goods, had just decided to make Deloche show her some -Alençon point. At first he brought out some imitation; but she wished to -see some real Alençon, and was not satisfied with the little pieces at -three hundred francs the yard, insisting on having deep flounces at -a thousand francs a yard, handkerchiefs and fans at seven and eight -hundred francs. The counter was soon covered with a fortune. In a corner -of the department Jouve, the inspector, who had not lost sight of Madame -de Boves, notwithstanding the latter's apparent dawdling, stood there -amidst the crowd, with an indifferent air, but still keeping a sharp eye -on her. - -“Have you any in hand-made point?” she asked; “show me some, please.” - -The salesman, whom she had kept there for twenty minutes, dared -not resist, she appeared so aristocratic, with her imposing air and -princess's voice. However, he hesitated, for the salesmen were cautioned -against heaping up these precious fabrics, and he had allowed himself to -be robbed of ten yards of Malines the week before. But she troubled him, -he yielded, and abandoned the Alençon point for a moment to take the -lace asked for from a drawer. - -“Oh! look, mamma,” said Blanche, who was ransacking a box close by, full -of cheap Valenciennes, “we might take some of this for pillow-cases.” - -Madame de Boves not replying, her daughter on turning round saw her with -her hands plunged amidst the lace, about to slip some Alençon up the -sleeve of her mantle. She did not appear surprised, and moved forward -instinctively to conceal her mother, when Jouve suddenly stood before -them. He leant over, and politely murmured in the countess's ear: - -“Have the kindness to follow me, madame.” - -She hesitated for a moment, shocked. - -“But what for, sir?” - -“Have the kindness to follow me, madame,” repeated the inspector, -without raising his voice. - -Her face was full of anguish, she threw a rapid glance around her. Then -she resigned herself all at once, resumed her haughty look, and walked -by his side like a queen who deigns to accept the services of an -aide-de-camp. Not one of the customers had observed the scene, and -Deloche, on returning to the counter, looked at her being walked off, -his mouth wide open with astonishment What! this one as well! this -noble-looking lady! Really it was time to have them all searched! And -Blanche, who was left free, followed her mother at a distance, lingering -amidst the sea of faces, livid, divided between the duty of not -deserting her mother and the terror of being detained with her. She saw -her enter Bourdoncle's office, but she contented herself with waiting -near the door. Bourdoncle, whom Mouret had just got rid of, happened to -be there. As a rule, he dealt with these sorts of robberies committed by -persons of distinction. Jouve had long been watching this lady, and had -informed him of it, so that he was not astonished when the inspector -briefly explained the matter to him; in fact, such extraordinary cases -passed through his hands that he declared the women capable of anything -once the rage for dress had seized them. As he was aware of Mouret's -acquaintance with the thief, he treated her with the utmost politeness. - -“We excuse these moments of weakness, madame. But pray consider the -consequences of such a thing. Suppose some one else had seen you slip -this lace----” - -But she interrupted him in great indignation. She a thief! Who did -he take her for? She was the Countess de Boves, her husband, -Inspector-General of the Stud, was received at Court. - -“I know, I know, madame,” repeated Bourdoncle, quietly. “I have the -honour of knowing you. In the first place, will you kindly give up the -lace you have on you?” - -She again protested, not allowing him to say another word, handsome in -her violence, going as far as tears. Any one else but he would have been -shaken and feared some deplorable mistake, for she threatened to go to -law to avenge herself for such an insult. - -“Take care, sir, my husband will certainly appeal to the Minister.” - -“Come, you are not more reasonable than the others,” declared -Bourdoncle, losing patience. “We must search you.” - -Still she did not yield, but said with her superb assurance, “Very good, -search me. But I warn you, you are risking your house.” - -Jouve went to fetch two saleswomen from the corset department. When -he returned, he informed Bourdoncle that the lady's daughter, left at -liberty, had not quitted the doorway, and asked if she should also -be detained, although he had not seen her take anything. The manager, -always correct, decided that she should not be brought in, for the sake -of morality, and in order not to force a mother to blush before her -daughter. The two men retired into a neighbouring room, whilst the -saleswomen searched the countess, even taking off her dress to search -her bosom and hips. Besides the twelve yards of Alençon point at a -thousand francs the yard concealed in her sleeve, they found in her -bosom a handkerchief, a fan, and a cravat, making a total of about -fourteen thousand francs' worth of lace. She had been stealing like this -for the last year, ravaged by a furious, irresistible passion for dress. -These fits got worse, growing daily, sweeping away all the reasonings of -prudence, and the enjoyment she felt in the indulgence of this passion -was all the more violent from the fact that she was risking before the -eyes of a crowd her name, her pride, and her husband's high position. -Now that the latter allowed her to empty his drawers, she stole although -she had her pockets full of money, she stole for the pleasure of -stealing, as one loves for the pleasure of loving, goaded on by desire, -urged on by the species of kleptomania that her unsatisfied luxurious -tastes had developed in her formerly at sight of the enormous and brutal -temptation of the big shops. - -“It's a trap,” cried she, when Bourdoncle and Jouve came in. “This lace -has been placed on me, I swear before Heaven.” - -She was now weeping tears of rage, and fell on a chair, suffocated in -her dress. The partner sent away the saleswomen, and resumed, with his -quiet air: “We are quite willing, madame, to hush up this painful -affair for the sake of your family. But you must first sign a paper thus -worded: 'I have stolen some lace from The Ladies' Paradise,' followed by -the details of the lace, and the day of the month. Besides, I shall be -happy to return you this document whenever you like to bring me a sum of -two thousand francs for the poor.” - -She got up again, and declared in a fresh outburst: “I'll never sign -that, I'd rather die.” - -“You won't die, madame; but I warn you that I shall shortly send for the -police.” - -Then followed a frightful scene. She insulted him, she stammered that -it was cowardly for a man to torture a woman in that way. Her Juno-like -beauty, her tall majestic body was distorted by vulgar rage. Then she -tried to melt them, entreating them in the name of their mothers, and -spoke of dragging herself at their feet. And as they remained quite -unmoved, hardened by custom, she sat down all at once and began to write -with a trembling hand. The pen sputtered, the words: “I have stolen,” - written madly, went almost through the thin paper, whilst she repeated -in a strangled voice: “There, sir, there. I yield to force.” - -Bourdoncle took the paper, carefully folded it, and put it in a drawer, -saying: “You see it's in company, for ladies, after talking of dying -rather than signing, generally forget to come and redeem their _billets -doux_. However, I hold it at your disposal. You'll be able to judge -whether it's worth two thousand francs.” - -She was buttoning up her dress, and became as arrogant as ever, now that -she had paid. “I can go now?” asked she, in a sharp tone. - -Bourdoncle was already occupied with other business. On Jouve's report, -he decided on Deloche's dismissal, as a stupid fellow, who was always -being robbed, never having any authority over the customers. Madame -de Boves repeated her question, and as they dismissed her with an -affirmative nod, she enveloped both of them in a murderous look. In the -flood of insulting words that she kept back, a melodramatic cry escaped -from her lips. - -“Wretches!” said she, banging the door after her. - -Meanwhile Blanche had not gone far away from the office. Her ignorance -of what was going on inside, the passing backwards and forwards of Jouve -and the two saleswomen frightened her, she had visions of the police, -the assize court, and the prison. But all at once she stopped short: De -Vallagnosc was before her, this husband of a month, with whom she still -felt rather awkward; and he questioned her, astonished at her bewildered -appearance. - -“Where's your mother? Have you lost each other? Come, tell me, you make -me feel anxious.” - -Nothing in the way of a colourable fiction presented itself to her, -and in great distress she told him everything in a low voice: “Mamma, -mamma--she has been stealing.” - -“What! stealing?” At last he understood. His wife's bloated face, the -pale mask, ravaged by fear, terrified him. - -“Some lace, like that, up her sleeve,” she continued stammering. - -“You saw her, then? You were looking on?” murmured he, chilled to feel -her a sort of accomplice. - -They had to stop talking, several persons were already turning round. An -hesitation full of anguish kept De Vallagnosc motionless for a moment. -What was to be done? He was about to go into Bourdoncle's office, when -he perceived Mouret crossing the gallery. He told his wife to wait for -him, and seized his old friend's arm, informing him of the affair, in -broken sentences. The latter hastily took him into his office, where -he soon put him at rest as to the possible consequences. He assured him -that he need not interfere, and explained in what way the affair would -be arranged, without appearing at all excited about this robbery, as if -he had foreseen it long ago. But De Vallagnosc, when he no longer feared -an immediate arrest, did not accept the adventure with this admirable -coolness. He had thrown himself into an arm-chair, and now that he could -discuss the matter, began to lament his own unfortunate position. Was it -possible that he had married into a family of thieves? A stupid marriage -that he had drifted into, just to please his father! Surprised at this -childish violence, Mouret watched him weeping, thinking of his former -pessimist boasting. Had he not heard him announce scores of times the -nothingness of life, in which evil alone had any attraction? And by -way of a joke he amused himself for a minute or so, by preaching -indifference to his friend, in a friendly, bantering tone. But at this -De Vallognosc got angry: he was quite unable to recover his compromised -philosophy, his middle-class education broke out in virtuously indignant -cries against his mother-in-law. As soon as trouble fell on him, at -the least appearance of human suffering, at which he had always coldly -laughed, the boasted sceptic was beaten and bleeding. It was abominable, -they were dragging the honour of his race into the mud, and the world -seemed to be coming to an end. - -“Come, calm yourself,” concluded Mouret, stricken with pity. “I won't -tell you that everything happens and nothing happens, because that does -not seem to comfort you just now. But I think you ought to go and offer -your arm to Madame de Boves, that would be wiser than causing a scandal. -The deuce! you who professed such scorn before the universal rascality -of the present day!” - -“Of course,” cried De Vallagnosc, innocently, “when it affects other -people!” - -However, he got up, and followed his old school-fellow's advice. -Both were returning to the gallery when Madame de Boves came out of -Bourdoncle's office. She accepted her son-in-law's arm with a majestic -air, and as Mouret bowed to her with respectful gallantry, he heard -her saying: “They've apologised to me. Really, these mistakes are -abominable.” - -Blanche rejoined them, and they were soon lost in the crowd. Then -Mouret, alone and pensive, crossed the shop once more. This scene, which -had changed his thoughts from the struggle going on within him, now -increased his fever, and decided him to make a supreme effort. A vague -connection arose in his mind: the robbery by this unfortunate woman, -the last folly of the conquered customers, beaten at the feet of the -tempter, evoked the proud and avenging image of Denise, whose victorious -grip he could feel at his throat. He stopped at the top of the central -staircase, and gazed for a long time into the immense nave, where his -nation of women were swarming. - -Six o'clock was about to strike, the daylight decreasing outside was -gradually forsaking the covered galleries, already dark and waning -at the further end of the halls, invaded by long shadows. And in this -daylight, barely extinct, was commenced the lighting of the electric -lamps, the globes of an opaque whiteness studding with bright moons -the distant depths of the departments. It was a white brightness of a -blinding fixity, extending like the reverberation of a discoloured star, -killing the twilight Then, when all were lighted, there was a delighted -murmur in the crowd, the great show of white goods assumed a fairy -splendour beneath this new illumination. It seemed that this colossal -orgie of white was also burning, itself becoming a light. The song of -the white seemed to soar upward in the inflamed whiteness of an aurora. -A white glimmer gushed from the linen and calico department in the -Monsigny Gallery, like the first bright gleam which lights up the -eastern sky; whilst along the Michodière Gallery, the mercery and -the lace, the fancy-goods and the ribbon departments threw out the -reflection of distant hills--the white flash of the mother-of-pearl -buttons, the silvered bronzes and the pearls. But the central nave -especially was filled with a blaze of white: the puffs of white muslin -round the columns, the white dimities and other stuffs draping the -staircases, the white lace flying in the air, opened up a dreamy -firmament, the dazzling whiteness of a paradise, where was being -celebrated the marriage of the unknown queen. The tent of the silk hall -was like a giant alcove, with its white curtains, gauzes and tulles, the -dazzle of which protected the bride in her white nudity from the gaze -of the curious. There was now nothing but this blinding white light -in which all the whites blended, a multitude of stars twinkling in the -bright clear light. - -And Mouret continued to watch his nation of women, amidst this -shimmering blaze. Their black shadows stood out vigorously on the pale -ground-work. Long eddies divided the crowd; the fever of this day's -great sale swept past like a frenzy, rolling along the disordered sea -of heads. People were commencing to leave, the pillage of the stuffs had -encumbered all the counters, the gold was chinking in the tills; whilst -the customers went away, their purses completely empty, and their heads -turned by the wealth of luxury amidst which they had been wandering all -day. It was he who possessed them thus, keeping them at his mercy by -his continued display of novelties, his reduction of prices, and his -“returns,” his gallantry and his advertisements. He had conquered the -mothers themselves, reigning over them with the brutality of a despot, -whose caprices were ruining many a household. His creation was a sort of -new religion; the churches, gradually deserted by a wavering faith, were -replaced by this bazaar, in the minds of the idle women of Paris. -Women now came and spent their leisure time in his establishment, -the shivering and anxious hours they formerly passed in churches: a -necessary consumption of nervous passion, a growing struggle of the god -of dress against the husband, the incessantly renewed religion of the -body with the divine future of beauty. If he had closed his doors, -there would have been a rising in the street, the despairing cry of -worshippers deprived of their confessional and altar. In their still -growing luxury, he saw them, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, -obstinately clinging to the enormous iron building, along the suspended -staircases and flying bridges. Madame Marty and her daughter, carried -away to the highest point, were wandering amongst the furniture. -Retained by her young people, Madame Bourdelais could not get away from -the fancy goods. Then came another group, Madame de Boves, still on De -Vallagnosc's arm, and followed by Blanche, stopping in each department, -still daring to examine the articles with her superb air. But amidst the -crowded sea of customers, this sea of bodies swelling with life, beating -with desire, all decorated with bunches of violets, as though for the -bridals of some sovereign, Mouret could now distinguish nothing but the -bare bust of Madame Desforges, who had stopped in the glove department -with Madame Guibal. Notwithstanding her jealous rancour, she was also -buying, and he felt himself to be the master once more, having them -at his feet, beneath the dazzle of the electric light, like a drove of -cattle from whom he had drawn his fortune. - -With a mechanical step, Mouret went along the galleries, so absorbed -that he abandoned himself to the pushing of the crowd. When he raised -his head, he found himself in the new millinery department, the windows -of which looked on to the Rue du Dix-Décembre. And there, his forehead -against the glass, he made another halt, watching the departure of the -crowd. The setting sun was yellowing the roofs of the white houses, the -blue sky was growing paler, refreshed by a pure breath; whilst in the -twilight, which was already enveloping the streets, the electric lamps -of The Ladies' Paradise threw out that fixed glimmer of stars lighted on -the horizon at the decline of the day. Towards the Opera-house and the -Bourse were the rows of waiting carriages, the harness still retaining -the reflections of the bright light, the gleam of a lamp, the glitter -of a silvered bit Every minute the cry of a footman was heard, and a cab -drew near, or a brougham issued from the ranks, took up a customer, and -went off at a rapid trot. The rows of carriages were now diminishing, -six went off at a time, occupying the whole street, from the one side to -the other, amidst the banging of doors, snapping of whips, and the hum -of the passers-by, who swarmed between the wheels. There was a sort of -continual enlargement, a spreading of the customers, carried off to the -four corners of the city, emptying the building with the roaring clamour -of a sluice. And the roof of The Ladies' Paradise, the big golden -letters of the ensigns, the banners fluttering in the sky, still flamed -forth with the reflections of the setting sun, so colossal in this -oblique light, that they evoked the monster of advertising, the -phalansterium whose wings, incessantly multiplied, were swallowing up -the whole neighbourhood, as far as the distant woods of the suburbs. -And the soul of Paris, an enormous, sweet breath, fell asleep in the -serenity of the evening, running in long and sweet caresses over the -last carriages, spinning through the streets now becoming deserted by -the crowd, disappearing into the darkness of the night. - -Mouret, gazing about, had just felt something grand in himself; and, -in the shiver of triumph with which his flesh trembled, in the face of -Paris devoured and woman conquered, he experienced a sudden weakness, a -defection of his strong will which overthrew him in his turn, beneath a -superior force It was an unreasonable necessity to be vanquished in -his victory, the nonsense of a warrior bending beneath the caprice of a -child, on the morrow of his conquests. He who had struggled for months, -who even that morning had sworn to stifle his passion, yielded all at -once, seized by the vertigo of high places, happy to commit what he -looked upon as a folly. His decision, so rapid, had assumed all at once -such energy that he saw nothing but her as being useful and necessary in -the world. - -The evening, after the last dinner, he was waiting in his office, -trembling like a young man about to stake his life's happiness, unable -to keep still, incessantly going towards the door to listen to the -rumours in the shop, where the men were doing the folding, drowned up -to the shoulder in a sea of stuffs. At each footstep his heart beat. -He felt a violent emotion, he rushed forward, for he had heard in the -distance a deep murmur, which had gradually increased. - -It was Lhomme slowly approaching with the day's receipts. That day they -were so heavy, there was such a quantity of silver and copper, that he -had been obliged to enlist the services of two messengers. Behind him -came Joseph and one of his colleagues, bending beneath the weight of -the bags, enormous bags, thrown on their shoulders like sacks of wheat, -whilst he walked on in front with the notes and gold, a note-book -swollen with paper, and two bags hung round his neck, the weight of -which swayed him to the right, the same side as his broken arm. Slowly, -perspiring and puffing, he had come from the other end of the shop, -amidst the growing emotion of the salesmen. The employees in the glove -and silk departments laughingly offered to relieve him of his burden, -the fellows in the drapery and woollen departments were longing to see -him make a false step, which would have scattered the gold through the -place. Then he had been obliged to mount the stairs, go across a bridge, -going still higher, turning about, amidst the longing looks of the -employees in the linen, the hosiery, and the mercery departments, who -followed him, gazing with ecstasy at this fortune travelling in the air. -On the first-floor the employees in the ready-made, the perfumery, the -lace, and the shawl departments were ranged with devotion, as on the -passage of a king. From counter to counter a tumult arose, like the -clamour of a nation bowing down before the golden calf. - -Mouret opened the door, and Lhomme appeared, followed by the two -messengers, who were staggering; and, out of breath, he still had -strength to cry out: “One million two hundred and forty-seven francs, -nineteen sous!” - -At last the million had been attained, the million picked up in a day, -and of which Mouret had so long dreamed. But he gave way to an angry -gesture, and said impatiently, with the disappointed air of a man -disturbed by some troublesome fellow: “A million! very good, put it -there.” Lhomme knew that he was fond of seeing the heavy receipts on -his table before they were taken to the central cashier's office. The -million covered the whole table, crushing the papers, almost overturning -the ink, running out of the sacks, bursting the leather bags, making a -great heap, the heap of the gross receipts, such as it had come from the -customers' hands, still warm and living. - -Just as the cashier was going away, heart-broken at the governor's -indifference, Bourdoncle arrived, gaily exclaiming: “Ah! we've done it -this time. We've hooked the million, eh?” - -But observing Mouret's febrile pre-occupation, he understood at once -and calmed down. His face was beaming with joy. After a short silence -he resumed: “You've made up your mind, haven't you? Well, I approve your -decision.” - -Suddenly Mouret planted himself before him, and with his terrible voice -he thundered: “I say, my man, you're rather too lively. You think me -played out, don't you? and you feel hungry. But be careful, I'm not one -to be swallowed up, you know!” - -Discountenanced by the sharp attack of this wonderful fellow, who -guessed everything, Bourdoncle stammered: “What now? Are you joking? I -who have always admired you so!” - -“Don't tell lies!” replied Mouret, more violently than ever “Just -listen, we were stupid to entertain the superstition that marriage would -ruin us. Is it not the necessary health, the very strength and order of -life? Well, my dear fellow, I'm going to marry her, and I'll pitch you -all out at the slightest movement. Yes, you'll go and be paid like the -rest, Bourdoncle.” - -And with a gesture he dismissed him. Bourdoncle felt himself condemned, -swept away, by this victory gained by woman. He went off. Denise was -just going in, and he bowed with a profound respect, his head swimming. - -“Ah! you've come at last!” said Mouret gently. - -Denise was pale with emotion. She had just experienced another grief, -Deloche had informed her of his dismissal, and as she tried to retain -him, offering to speak in his favour, he obstinately declined to -struggle against his bad luck, he wanted to disappear, what was the use -of staying? Why should he interfere with people who were happy? Denise -had bade him a sisterly adieu, her eyes full of tears. Did she not -herself long to sink into oblivion? Everything was now about to be -finished, and she asked nothing more of her exhausted strength than the -courage to support this separation. In a few minutes, if she could only -be valiant enough to crush her heart, she could go away alone, to weep -unseen. - -“You wished to see me, sir,” she said in her calm voice. “In fact, I -intended to come and thank you for all your kindness to me.” - -On entering, she had perceived the million on the desk, and the display -of this money wounded her. Above her, as if watching the scene, was the -portrait of Madame Hédouin, in its gilded frame, and with the eternal -smile of its painted lips. - -“You are still resolved to leave us?” asked Mouret, in a trembling -voice. - -“Yes, sir. I must!” - -Then he took her hands, and said, in an explosion of tenderness, after -the long period of coldness he had imposed on himself: “And if I married -you, Denise, would you still leave?” But she had drawn her hands away, -struggling as if under the influence of a great grief. “Oh! Monsieur -Mouret. Pray say no more. Don't cause me such pain again! I cannot! -I cannot! Heaven is my witness that I was going away to avoid such a -misfortune!” - -She continued to defend herself in broken sentences. Had she not already -suffered too much from the gossip of the house? Did he wish her to pass -in his eyes and her own for a worthless woman? No, no, she would -be strong, she would certainly prevent him doing such a thing. He, -tortured, listened to her, repeating in a passionate tone: “I wish it. I -wish it!” - -“No, it's impossible. And my brothers? I have sworn not to marry. I -cannot bring you those children, can I?” - -“They shall be my brothers, too. Say yes, Denise.” - -“No, no, leave me. You are torturing me!” - -Little by little he gave way, this last obstacle drove him mad. What! -She still refused even at this price! In the distance he heard the -clamour of his three thousand employees building up his immense fortune. -And that stupid million lying there! He suffered from it as a sort of -irony, he could have thrown it into the street. - -“Go, then!” he cried, in a flood of tears. “Go and join the man you -love. That's the reason, isn't it? You warned me, I ought to have known -it, and not tormented you any further.” She stood there dazed before -the violence of this despair. Her heart was bursting. Then, with the -impetuosity of a child, she threw herself on his neck, sobbing also, and -stammered: “Oh! Monsieur Mouret, it's you that I love!” - -A last murmur was rising from The Ladies' Paradise, the distant -acclamation of a crowd. Madame Hédouin's portrait was still smiling, -with its painted lips; Mouret had fallen on his desk, on the million -that he could no longer see. He did not quit Denise, but clasped her in -a desperate embrace, telling her that she could now go, that she could -spend a month at Valognes, which would silence everybody, and that he -would then go and fetch her himself, and bring her back, all-powerful, -and his wedded wife. - - -THE END. - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LADIES’ PARADISE *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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