The Flower of the Chapdelaines | Page 4

And what of it if you have seen her, or she
seen you, here--or anywhere?"
"Only this: that I've met her so often by pure--by chance, on that square
you speak of, I bound for the court-house, she for I can't divine
where--for I've never looked behind me!--that I've had to take another
street to show I'm a gentleman. This very morn'--oh!--and now! here!
How can I explain--or go unexplained?"
Ovide lifted a hand: "Will you leave that to my wife, so unlearned yet
so wise and good? For the young lady's own sake my wife, without
explaining, will see that you are not misjudged."
"Good! Right! Any explanation would simply belie itself. Yes, let her
do it! But, Landry----"
"Yes?"
"For heaven's sake don't let her make me out a goody-goody. I haven't
got this far into life without making moral mistakes, some of them huge.
But in this thing--I say it only to you--I'm making none. I'm neither a
marrying man, a villain, nor an ass."
Ovide smiled: "My wife can manage that. Maybe it's good you came
here. It may well be that the young lady herself would be glad if some
one explained her to you."
"Hoh! does an angel need an explanation?"
"I should say, in Royal Street, yes."
"Then for mercy's sake give it! right here! you! come!" The youth
laughed. "Mercy to me, I mean. But--wait! Tell me; couldn't Castanado
have given it, as easily as you?"
"You never gave Castanado this chance."
"How do you know that? Oh, never mind, go ahead--full speed."

"Well, she's an orphan, of a fine old family----"
"Obviously! Creole, of course, the family?"
"Yes, though always small in Louisiana. Creole except one New
England grandmother. But for that one she would not have been here
just now."
"Humph! that's rather obscure but--go on."
"Her parents left her without a sou or a relation except two maiden
aunts as poor as she."
"Antiques?"
"Yes. She earns their living and her own."
"You don't care to say how?"
"She wouldn't like it. 'Twould be to say where."
"She seems able to dress exquisitely."
"Mr. Chester, a woman would see with what a small outlay that is done.
She has that gift for the needle which a poet has for the pen."
"Ho! that's charmingly antique. But now tell me how having a Yankee
grandmother caused her to drop in here just now. Your logic's dim."
"You are soon to go to Castanado's to see that manuscript story, are you
not?"
"Oh, is it a story? Have you read it?"
"Yes, I've read it, 'tis short. They wanted my opinion. And 'tis a story,
though true."
"A story! Love story? very absorbing?"
"No, it is not of love--except love of liberty. Whether 'twill absorb you
or no I cannot say. Me it absorbed because it is the story of some of my
race, far from here and in the old days, trying, in the old vain way, to
gain their freedom."
"Has--has mademoiselle read it?"
"Certainly. It is her property; hers and her two aunts'. Those two, they
bought it lately, of a poor devil--drinking man--for a dollar. They had
once known his mother, from the West Indies."
"He wrote it, or his mother?"
"The mother, long ago. 'Tis not too well done. It absorbs mademoiselle
also, but that is because 'tis true. When I saw that effect I told her of a
story like it, yet different, and also seeming true, in this old magazine.
And when I began to tell it she said, 'It is true! My Vermont
_grand'mère_ wrote that! It happened to her!'"

"How queer! And, Landry, I see the connection. Your magazine being
one of a set, you couldn't let her read it anywhere but here."
"I have to keep my own rules."
"Let me see it. . . . Oh, now, why not? What was the use of either of us
explaining if--if----?"
But Ovide smilingly restored the thing to its stack. "Now," he said, "'tis
Mr. Chester's logic that fails." Yet as he turned to a customer he let
Chester take it down.
"My job requires me," the youth said, "to study character. Let's see
what a _grand'mère_ of a '_tite-fille_, situated so and so, will do."
Ovide escorted his momentary customer to the sidewalk door. As he
returned, Chester, rolling map and magazine together, said:
"It's getting dark. No, don't make a light, it's your closing time and I've
a strict engagement. Here's a deposit for this magazine; a fifty. It's all I
have--oh, yes, take it, we'll trade back to-morrow. You must keep your
own rules and I must read this thing before I touch my bed."
"Even the first few lines absorb you?"
"No, far from it. Look here." Chester read out: