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Updated: May 28, 2025
The most careless observer could not fail to perceive that the clothes which he wore and which were incomparably superior to certain others which he possessed, but did not wear were sadly shabby; and Vandyke Brown had asked him to be best man at his wedding; and further and this was the strongest reason of all Jaune d'Antimoine longed, from the very depths of his soul, to make himself pleasing in the eyes of Rose Carthame.
By all odds, it was the very worst room in the whole building; and that was precisely the reason why Jaune d'Antimoine had chosen it, for the rent was next to nothing: he would have preferred a room that rented for even less. It certainly was a forlorn-looking place. There was no furniture in it worth speaking of; it was cheerless, desolate.
But to-day Jaune d'Antimoine was not blue, for of a sudden he had come to be stayed by a lofty purpose and upheld by a high resolve: and his purpose and resolve were that within one month's time he would gain for himself a new suit of clothes! There were several excellent reasons which together served to fortify him in his exalted resolution.
Quick as thought, Brown had seized the upraised arm, and Jaune had settled upon the other arm with a grip like a vise. "No, you don't, my boy! Let's see what it is before it goes overboard. Hold fast, d'Antimoine!" The Count struggled furiously, but hopelessly. "It's no use. You may as well give in, Stumps!" As Brown uttered this name the Count suddenly became limp.
On the one hand, Madame Carthame and the Count Siccatif de Courtray believed that she had made up her mind to live in her mother's own second-story front and be a countess. On the other hand, Jaune d'Antimoine, whose wish, perhaps, was father to his thought, believed that she would not do anything of the sort.
"So you are the Marquis who has been setting the town wild for the last week, eh? And whom did you bet with? And what started you in such a crazy performance, anyway? Tell me all about it. It's as funny Good heavens! d'Antimoine, what's the matter? Are you ill?" For Jaune had grown deathly pale and was gasping. "I do not know of what it is that you talk," he answered, with a great effort.
Being but a giddy young person, however, and one somewhat lacking in fit reverence of maternal authority, she added, on her own account, that in half an hour or so she was going up Fourth Street to the Gansevoort market, and that Fourth Street was a public thoroughfare, upon which M. d'Antimoine also had a perfect right to walk.
As he slowly strolled eastward, he observed on the other side of the street Jaune d'Antimoine, in his desperately shabby raiment, hurriedly walking eastward also. The Count murmured a brief panegyric upon M. d'Antimoine, in which the words "cet animal" alone were distinguishable.
Down Greenwich way that is to say, about in the heart of the city of New York in a room with a glaring south light that made even the thought of painting in it send shivers all over you, Jaune d'Antimoine lived and labored in the service of Art.
He was a disgusting beast!" replied M. d'Antimoine savagely. "I I loved him!" answered Rose, turning upon Jaune, at last, her black eyes. They did not sparkle, as was their wont, but they were wonderfully lustrous and soft. Jaune looked down into the market-basket and groaned. "And and I love him still. I think, I I hope, that he will live always in my heart."
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