Fanchon

“ To tell the truth, he is a little torn and tattered; he lacks a feather in his tail; he has lost it in battle—unless it was through some bad fairy of the village. Fanchon has her suspicions he is a naughty bird. But she is a girl, and she does not mind her jack-sparrow being a trifle headstrong, if only he has a kind heart. She pets him and calls him pretty names. Suddenly he begins to grow bigger; his body gets longer; his wings turn into two arms; he is a boy, and Fanchon knows who he is—Antoine, the gardener’s little lad, who asks her:
“Shall we go and play together, shall we, Fanchon?” ”

“ M. Bourget had no difficulty in guessing what had been the little lawyer’s offence. He broke into a hoarse laugh, the first he had been heard to utter since his memorable visit to Poissy, and scandalised Fanchon by rubbing his hands, and declaring that it served the little reptile right. He added an ardent wish that he had been there to kick him.
“The saints forbid!” cried Fanchon, piously. “You have always quarrels enough of your own on your shoulders without taking up other people’s. And a pretty fanfara Monsieur Leroux will make about this business!” ”

“ Fanchon’s eyes were closed, and the long, thick lashes made shadows on her white cheeks. There was no sign of makeup now except a touch of the lips that made her mouth look scarlet, in fearful contrast to the whiteness of cheeks and brow and throat. One arm was thrown across the bed and the small hand clasped the crumpled coverlet convulsively, the blue veins showing through its [355] delicate whiteness. Half-clad as she was, Virginia saw how thin were Fanchon’s arms and how slender her neck, delicate and round as the stem of a flower. ”

“ Nannon, with her poor, weather-beaten face, and her shoulders broadened with labour, walked sturdily on in her blue stuff gown, a little shawl crossed under an enormously wide black waistband, a plain white cap pulled forward on her forehead, and slanting upwards behind,—gesticulating and talking in her high, shrill, unmodulated voice. Fanchon, by right of her basket, kept close beside her; last of all marched Veuve Angelin, half-curious and half-contemptuous.
There is no news like one’s own news. ”

“ With this preamble, Mademoiselle poured into poor Penelope’s ears the story of Fanchon and the marvellous bangle she wore, of Nina, and her walk abroad with Mademoiselle wearing the said bangle on her wrist, of Brenda’s reprehensible doings when she took Fanchon out night after night, and, lastly, of the very clever way in which she, Mademoiselle, had managed to substitute the worthless bangle for the real one.
“I talk not of myself as lofty in this matter,” was her final remark. “I am the poor governess who have here all to earn; but I am not so bad as that méchante—your sister. ”

“ She was, therefore, not at all prepared for Fanchon’s rough caress, nor for Fanchon’s next words.
“I do wonder if you would be such a duck of a thing as to let me wear the bangle at Castle Beverley to-morrow.”
“Wear it there!” cried Brenda, real terror for a minute seizing her. “Of course not—could anything be more unsuitable! You must appear at Castle Beverley as the innocent little girl you are. You must not think of jewellery. You mustn’t allude to it, nor to your evening walks, nor to anything we do when you and I are enjoying ourselves together. ”

“ My sister Fanchon has a lover, Finemouche, a brewer, a fine-looking, dark fellow, that all the girls in the quarter are mad over. My mother says that he’s a ne’er-do-well, and don’t want Fanchon to listen to him; but Fanchon’s crazy over him, and she tries all sorts of ways to be with him, on condition that he won’t make love to her except with honest motives. ”

“ She broke the bread and threw crumbs to them all; but all could not get some to eat. Fanchon found that the boldest and cleverest left nothing for the others.
“That is not fair,” she told them; “each of you ought to take his proper turn.”
But they never heeded; nobody ever does, when you talk of fairness and justice. She tried every way to favour the weak and hearten the timid; but she could make nothing of it, and do what she would, she fed the big fat birds at the expense of the thin ones. ”

“ She put the necklace round her shapely neck and Fanchon looked to see that the clasp was quite secure.
There came the sound of loud knocking at the street door.
“That is M. Chauvelin come to fetch me with the chaise. Am I quite ready, Fanchon?” asked Desiree Candeille.
“Oh yes, Mademoiselle!” sighed the little maid; “and Mademoiselle looks very beautiful to-night.”
“Lady Blakeney is very beautiful too, Fanchon,” rejoined the actress naively, “but I wonder if she will wear anything as fine as the Marny necklace?” ”

“ Just then Fanchon reappeared and she was leading Sylvia by the hand. That little maid looked with big-eyed wonder at the newcomer.
“You’re a very bad, bold girl; that’s what my mother says you are; and I’m not going to speak to you again till you say you’re sorry; and I shall hate you always.” Then she closed her thin lips tight and did not speak again while the buxom Irish maid was undressing her. Later Fanchon unfastened the buttons of the red-silk dress, helped Carol to prepare for bed, and then turned out the light. ”

“ Neither Fanchon nor Frederic had been paying any attention to her, and the bushes had torn all the clothes off her back; both her legs were broken; while her pretty waxen face was covered with so many scratches that it was hideous to look at.
“Oh! my beautiful, beautiful child!” sobbed Fanchon.
“There, you see what a stupid creature that doll of yours is!” cried Frederic. “She can’t even take a little run, but she must tear and spoil her clothes! Give her to me!”
[Pg 370] And before Fanchon could say a word, or cry: “Oh! Oh!” Frederic snatched the doll, and flung her into the lake. ”

“ She had caught sight of the somewhat greasy coat of the Reverend Josiah, who had returned unexpectedly and was passing the window on his way to his study.
“There’s papa!” screamed Nina—“the very man I want. I’ll be back by-and-by.”
“What can she be up to now? Little minx!” said Fanchon. “Dear, dear! do you like those pink muslins, Josie? I can’t say that I do.”
“I don’t think about them,” said Josephine. “Whatever we wear, we look frights.”
“Well, sometimes—sometimes I think that dear Brenda rather likes us to look frights,” said Fanchon. ”

“ He had almost given up going to the café, or frequenting the streets; mostly he sat in his own room, gloomy, unapproachable. His appetite was unaffected, but to Fanchon’s mortification he was indifferent what he ate, and his favourite dish of cold beef en vinaigrette, however carefully prepared, failed to elicit so much as a grunt of satisfaction. His fellow-townsmen found his conduct inexplicable, not a word of Poissy crossing his lips; and as for the photographer’s window, he would have walked a mile to avoid passing it. ”

“ Look, aunt!” Fanchon spread out very complacently the skirt of a pretty blue robe she wore.
La Corriveau nodded her head in a sort of silent approval, and remarked,—“She is free-handed enough! She gives what costs her nothing, and takes all she can get, and is, after all, a trollop, like the rest of us, Fanchon, who would be very good if there were neither men nor money nor fine clothes in the world, to tempt poor silly women.” ”

“ It seemed only last week that he had brought Fanchon up the train platform to meet his father. He had been proud of her beauty then; he had thought her unique and fascinating, and he had even liked the sensation she made in the old humdrum town. Now, he could not think of her without a shudder. He felt as if she had pilloried him in the public square. He would never be able to endure the place again, nor the people in it. It was too small. Each man knew all about his neighbor’s business. He remembered hearing Judge Jessup say that he found it hard to live in such a “nosey” community. ”

“ Peste, it is hard if one can’t do so much for one’s friends.”
“Yes, yes, Fanchon will carry it like a bird. And so Monsieur is absolutely at the hotel?”
“Bon jour, mesdames,” said old Nannon, laughing shrilly. “No one cares to help me with my basket, I suppose? It is heavy, too: it contains the clean clothes of my sister’s girl, Toinette, a good, hard-working girl she is, and fille at the Cygne, as you know.—What, Fanchon, my child, you would carry it! How admirable you are with your attentions to a poor old woman like me! ”

“ The girls put on their hats, and strolled down to the beach. Brenda was there looking quite happy and unconcerned. She called Fanchon a little aside, and desired the younger girls to amuse themselves building castles in the sand.
“I am too old for that,” said Josephine.
“Not a bit,” exclaimed Brenda. “How ridiculous you are! you are nothing but a baby. Anyhow, please yourselves, both of you, for I want to talk to Fanchon.”
“It’s horrid, the way you make Fanchon grown-up, and make Nina and me quite little babies!” said Josie. ”

“ Satan yokes people together to bring more sinners into the world, and supply fresh fuel for his fires."
"My mistress thinks there is no happiness like a good match," remarked Fanchon; "and I think so, too, aunt. I shall never wait the second time of asking, I assure you, aunt."
"You are a fool, Fanchon," said La Corriveau; "but your mistress deserves to wear the ring of Cleopatra, and to become the mother of witches and harlots for all time. ”

“ I seem to forget, as I am talking to you, that I am your governess, and that you and your sisters are my little pupils, but the facts are those: I look upon you, Fanchon, as very much older than your years. You have, in many ways, the mind of a grown-up woman. Of course you are very young, quite unformed, but you will be grown up sooner than most girls ”

“ Her eager maid, anxious for the looks of her mistress, insisted on a little rouge, which Angélique's natural bloom had never before needed. She submitted, for she intended to look her best to-day, she said. “Who knows whom I shall fall in with?”
“That is right, my Lady,” exclaimed Fanchon admiringly, “no one could be dressed perfectly as you are and be sick! I pity the gentleman you meet to-day, that is all! There is murder in your eye, my Lady!”
Poor Fanchon believed she was only complimenting her mistress, and at other times her remark would only have called forth a joyous laugh ”

“ You know we saw him to-day, but we couldn’t take much notice with the other girls about. I have begged of him never to speak to me when Josie and Nina are present, for I can’t tell what a child like Nina may be up to. But I rather fancy he’ll be here on the promenade this evening, and I asked him to bring a friend for you to talk to, Fanchon; you don’t mind, do you?”
“A friend!” cried Fanchon. “Oh—I hope you don’t mean a man! I’d be terrified out of my seven senses even to address a word to a man.”
“Dear Fanchon,” said Brenda, “you’ll soon get over that. ”

“ Meanwhile William came up.
“My wife, Colonel Denbigh. Fanchon, this is Miss Virginia Denbigh. We—we’re old friends,” he added lamely.
Fanchon looked at them with shining eyes. Her beauty—a delicate, captivating, elusive kind of beauty—seemed soft and childlike at the moment. In spite of the flagrant hat and the flagrantly loud stockings and the amazing style of dress, she was [76] dainty, graceful, altogether delightful. And she wanted to please. She smiled at them softly; she spoke very little—in a light, hurrying, childish voice—and she was very deferential, very gentle, to Colonel Denbigh. ”

“ So the girls slipped into the darkened, hot bedroom and presently got into bed, Fanchon to sleep and dream of Joe Burbery and the lovely bangle, and the sad pity it was that she could not display its charms to-morrow—but Brenda to lie awake; fear—dull dreadful fear tapping at her heart. ”

“ The girl crossed herself, and exclaimed, “God forbid, aunt! my mistress is not like that!”
La Corriveau spat at the mention of the sacred name. “But it is in her, Fanchon. It is in all of us! If she is not so already, she will be. But go into the house and see your foolish uncle, while I go prepare for my visit. We will set out at once, Fanchon, for business like that of Angélique des Meloises cannot wait.” ”

“ You’ll be very ill if you don’t stop.”
“You think I’ll die, n’est-ce-pas?” Her red mouth twisted oddly. “They’d like me to die, so he’d be free. They’re so good—they don’t like divorces!”
“Hush!” said Virginia steadily. “I wouldn’t stay here if you were not so ill, Fanchon, you’re trembling and shaking. Let me get a doctor for you; let me take you out of this wretched place.”
Fanchon laughed again hysterically.
“It’s a fine place, isn’t it? Tiens! The place for Mrs. William Carter. You see I have no money. Mon Dieu, I wouldn’t take a cent of his—I’d starve first!” ”

“ Love us, dear Fanchon.”
The huntsmen shouted: “Halloa! Halloa! the hunt’s up!” and blew their horns, and bustled about. Then tiny hares came darting out [Pg 376] of the bushes, with tiny dogs after them, and the huntsmen pursued them with shouts. This was delightful!
Then suddenly these wonders disappeared. And Fanchon and Frederic cried out: “What has become of the dolls? Where are the huntsmen?”
The Stranger Child answered: “Oh, they are always here waiting for you! They are close beside you, so you may have them at any minute. ”