Transcript of The Jolly Parisiennes and Other Novelettes
CHAPTER I. THE TWO CHARMERS This is a deliciously exciting period of my life, for I am about to try that most fascinating and hazardous of all experiences, a search for adventure in Paris. What I shall encounter I know not, and this very uncertainty is in itself a mighty charm. Of course, I shall meet Parisian ladies, delightful ladies I am sure, though I actually feel afraid of them, such dreadful tales have I heard concerning their coquetry and artfulness, not to say wickedness, and I am only a country youth, with neither the wit nor the courage to defend myself against beautiful sorceresses so powerfully armed. Well, I wish to see all that can be seen, and enjoy all that can be enjoyed, and if I by chance should fall a victim to the wiles and witchery of any designing siren, why, all I can say is, heaven help me! Eight days ago my father, Monsieur de Vogelade, permitted me to quit La Bouquet, the melancolais old château in Lower Normandy where I was born. My father had strange ideas concerning the present time. He is a good half -century behind the age. At last I live in Paris, my slight knowledge of which was derived from having passed through it twice. Fortunately, I am not too awkward. Felix Bodine, my old classmate at the Cannes Lyceum, claimed, on again seeing me here, that I was superb and that the fair Parisians will fall passionately in love with me. That made me laugh. But when Felix had gone, I surprised myself in front of a mirror, gazing at my five feet six inches and smiling with my white teeth and black eyes. Then I shrugged my shoulders, for I am not a coxcomb. Yesterday, for the first time, I passed the evening in a Parisian salon. The Countess de Pays, who is my aunt, had invited me to dinner. It was her last Saturday. She wished to present me to Monsieur Nijon, a deputy of our arrondissement of Gomerville, who had just been appointed undersecretary of state and who is, the rumor runs, in a fair way to become minister. My aunt, who is much more tolerant than my father, plumply declared to me that a young man of my age could not turn up his nose at his country even if it was a republic. She desires me to get a position somewhere. I will take it on myself to catechize that old pigeon -headed voguelade, she said to me. Leave everything to me, my dear George. At precisely seven o 'clock I was at the Countess's, but it seemed that they died late in Paris. The guests arrived one by one, and at half past seven all were not there. The Countess informed me with an air of despair that she had been unable to secure Monsieur Nijon. He was detained at Versailles by I know not what parliamentary complication. Nevertheless, she still hoped that he