smiling, frowning, evermore

thou art perfect in love-lore.

—tennyson.

"my cabbage," said maman legros in that decisive tone, which she only assumed on great occasions, and which then no one dreamed of contradicting, "what thou dost ask is entirely out of the question. it is not seemly for a maiden to be left alone in company with her lord. why! every one down the street would know of it—thy father's 'prentices would make mock of thee—and thy reputation would be as surely gone as is thistle-down after a gale."

"but, maman," hazarded rose marie, bold for the first time in her life, in the face of maman's stern refusal, "my lord is not my future husband. he is my husband, and surely i have the right to talk to him alone sometimes."

"rose marie, thou talkest like a goose, that cackles without understanding," replied maman sternly, "though my lord is thy husband by law and by the will of the church, he will not be thy true lord until the day after to-morrow, when thou wilt ratify thy vows to love, honour and humbly obey him, which vows i, thy mother, took in thy name eighteen years ago. before thou hast spoken them with thine own lips, after high mass on wednesday, thou dost an unseemly and unmaiden-like act in wishing to be alone in his company. truly thy guardian angel must be veiling his face with the shame of thee at the present moment."

[155] but rose marie refused to look upon the troubles of her guardian angel with proper compunction. she still felt rebellious and argumentative; but she changed her tactics. the sly young damsel realised that she had taken maman the wrong way and that she would gain nothing by controversy. she, therefore, brought forth her other weapons of attack, certain methods of pressure on the parental will which hitherto she had never known to fail.

she commenced proceedings by allowing her blue eyes to be veiled in tears, then seeing that maman turned her face away so as not to be forced to look on those pathetic dewdrops the rogue went close up to her mother and kneeling beside her put two loving arms round the old woman's shoulders.

"maman!" she whispered with quivering lips.

"'tis no use," retorted maman obdurately.

"only one very tiny, short quarter of an hour, maman chérie—after dinner—when papa goes downstairs to set the afternoon work to the 'prentices—you could be busy in the kitchen—accidentally—just for one quarter of an hour—maman chérie!"

the pleading voice was hard to resist. maman tried to steel her heart and obstinately turned away from those liquid eyes, drowned in tears.

"but in the name of the holy virgin, child," she said gruffly, "what is there that thou wouldst say to my lord, that thou canst not do in thy mother's presence?"

"'tis not what i would say, maman—" rejoined rose marie in a soft murmur quite close to maman's ear.

"then what?"

"i want to hear him speak to me, maman chérie—oh, i am sure that he will say naught that is unseemly—he is too proud and too rigid for that—but, when you and[156] papa are in the room he never, never speaks to me at all—i have oft wondered if he thought me a goose. when he comes, he greets me of a truth as if i were a queen, he kisses my hand—and bows in the most correct manner—then, when i sing to him and play on the harpsichord, he praises my voice, and coldly thanks me for the entertainment—"

"and 'tis right and proper conduct on the part of a great gentleman," retorted maman hotly, "thou wouldst not have him kiss thee, as if thou wert a kitchen wench."

but rose marie did not commit herself into saying what she did wish in this matter, but continued with seeming irrelevance.

"when i go out of the room, after the frigid and stately adieux which my lord bestows upon me, i oft hear his ringing, merry voice echoing up the stairs, right through the walls to my room. i hear papa and you laughing, in obvious response to his sallies—and once—it was yesterday—i stayed peeping over the bannister until my lord departed—"

"very unseemly behaviour," growled maman whilst an obvious blush rose to her fat cheeks, and her little, beady eyes seemed to twinkle at a certain recollection.

"i saw my lord take thee in his arms, maman," continued rose marie with stern reproach, "and he imprinted two such kisses on thy cheeks that literally raised the echoes in the house and must have been heard in the 'prentices' shop."

maman made great efforts to preserve her gravity.

"well!" she said, "and if he did—i am old enough to be his mother—and would it had pleased god to give me a son like him! those merry eyes give joy to my heart when i look into them, and he has such funny ways with[157] him—such amusing sallies—why not later than yesterday, he said, speaking of mme. renaud, the cobbler's wife down the street, that—"

maman caught rose marie's blue eyes fixed eagerly upon her—there were no tears in them now—only excitement and curiosity—maman promptly checked her own flow of eloquence and suddenly resumed her gruff, stern voice.

"but that is naught for thee, my pigeon—and now, enough of this talk—the pot-au-feu will be boiling over."

she wore a great air of finality now and would have risen but for rose marie's clinging arms.

"maman darling," pleaded the girl.

"nonsense!" retorted mme. legros decisively.

"one little, tiny, very, very short quarter of an hour."

"nonsense."

"i want so to know what he would say when we are alone—he could not sit before me mute as a carp, and stiff as papa's wooden measure. i want to hear his merry voice myself. i want to see—what he looks like—when he laughs."

"nonsense," reiterated maman for the third time.

but even as she spoke the word, she looked down upon the beautiful upturned head, the glowing eyes, the quivering lips parted in earnest pleading, and like the thistle-down in a gale, which she herself had quoted, the worthy old woman's resistance fell away.

"of a truth thou'rt a rogue," she said more gently.

"fifteen minutes, maman."

"thy father would not hear of it."

"he need not know. when he goes down after dinner—to set the work for the 'prentices."

maman hesitated one moment longer, but that final hesi[158]tation was useless by now. the fortress had yielded to the powerful weapons of the loved one in tears.

"very well," she said. and rose marie jumped to her feet with a little cry of triumph. "but remember," continued maman with stern, upraised finger, "it shall be ten minutes and no more."