A Second Home | Page 4

to grant them the consolation of common recognition and brotherly

union for resistance. Though the girl's expression was at first one of
lively but innocent curiosity, it assumed a look of gentle sympathy as
the stranger receded from view, like a last relation following in a
funeral train.
The heat of the weather was so great, and the gentleman was so
absent-minded, that he had taken off his hat and forgotten to put it on
again as he went down the squalid street. Caroline could see the stern
look given to his countenance by the way the hair was brushed from his
forehead. The strong impression, devoid of charm, made on the girl by
this man's appearance was totally unlike any sensation produced by the
other passengers who used the street; for the first time in her life she
was moved to pity for some one else than herself and her mother; she
made no reply to the absurd conjectures that supplied material for the
old woman's provoking volubility, and drew her long needle in silence
through the web of stretched net; she only regretted not having seen the
stranger more closely, and looked forward to the morrow to form a
definite opinion of him.
It was the first time, indeed, that a man passing down the street had
ever given rise to much thought in her mind. She generally had nothing
but a smile in response to her mother's hypotheses, for the old woman
looked on every passer-by as a possible protector for her daughter. And
if such suggestions, so crudely presented, gave rise to no evil thoughts
in Caroline's mind, her indifference must be ascribed to the persistent
and unfortunately inevitable toil in which the energies of her sweet
youth were being spent, and which would infallibly mar the clearness
of her eyes or steal from her fresh cheeks the bloom that still colored
them.
For two months or more the "Black Gentleman"--the name they had
given him--was erratic in his movements; he did not always come
down the Rue du Tourniquet; the old woman sometimes saw him in the
evening when he had not passed in the morning, and he did not come
by at such regular hours as the clerks who served Madame Crochard
instead of a clock; moreover, excepting on the first occasion, when his
look had given the old mother a sense of alarm, his eyes had never once

dwelt on the weird picture of these two female gnomes. With the
exception of two carriage-gates and a dark ironmonger's shop, there
were in the Rue du Tourniquet only barred windows, giving light to the
staircases of the neighboring houses; thus the stranger's lack of
curiosity was not to be accounted for by the presence of dangerous
rivals; and Madame Crochard was greatly piqued to see her "Black
Gentleman" always lost in thought, his eyes fixed on the ground, or
straight before him, as though he hoped to read the future in the fog of
the Rue du Tourniquet. However, one morning, about the middle of
September, Caroline Crochard's roguish face stood out so brightly
against the dark background of the room, looking so fresh among the
belated flowers and faded leaves that twined round the window-bars,
the daily scene was gay with such contrasts of light and shade, of pink
and white blending with the light material on which the pretty
needlewoman was working, and with the red and brown hues of the
chairs, that the stranger gazed very attentively at the effects of this
living picture. In point of fact, the old woman, provoked by her "Black
Gentleman's" indifference, had made such a clatter with her bobbins
that the gloomy and pensive passer-by was perhaps prompted to look
up by the unusual noise.
The stranger merely exchanged glances with Caroline, swift indeed, but
enough to effect a certain contact between their souls, and both were
aware that they would think of each other. When the stranger came by
again, at four in the afternoon, Caroline recognized the sound of his
step on the echoing pavement; they looked steadily at each other, and
with evident purpose; his eyes had an expression of kindliness which
made him smile, and Caroline colored; the old mother noted them with
satisfaction. Ever after that memorable afternoon, the Gentleman in
Black went by twice a day, with rare exceptions, which both the
women observed. They concluded from the irregularity of the hours of
his homecoming that he was not released so early, nor so precisely
punctual as a subordinate official.
All through the first three winter months, twice a day, Caroline and the
stranger thus saw each other for so long as it took him to traverse the
piece of road that lay along the length of the door and three