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Oyouki will carry a message to her parents, who will shut up our rooms; we shall spend the evening, Yves and I, in roaming about as fancy takes us, without any mousme dragging at our heels, and shall afterward regain our own quarters on board the 'Triomphante', without having the trouble of climbing up that hill. First of all, we make an attempt to dine together in some fashionable tea-house.
Chrysantheme, Yves, and little Oyouki have struck up a friendship so intimate that it amuses me. I even think that in my home life this intimacy is what affords me the greatest entertainment. They form a contrast which gives rise to the most absurd jokes, and unexpected situations.
It is true that a complete imbroglio, worthy of a romance, seems ever threatening to appear upon my monotonous horizon; a regular intrigue seems ever ready to explode in the midst of this little world of mousmés and grasshoppers: Chrysanthème in love with Yves; Yves with Chrysanthème; Oyouki with me; I with no one.
The whole town will be there; all our married friends have already started, the whole set, X , Y , Z , Touki-San, Campanule, and Jonquille, with 'the friend of amazing height. And these two, poor Chrysantheme and poor Oyouki, would have been obliged to stay at home with heavy hearts, had we not arrived, because Madame Prune had been seized with faintness and hysterics after her dinner."
She has nothing of the theatrical, or the deep assumed voice of the virtuoso; on the contrary, her notes, always very high, are soft, thin, and plaintive. She will often teach Oyouki some romance, slow and dreamy, which she has composed, or which comes back to her mind.
From the balcony she had watched the 'Triomphante' leave the dock, and, in the expectation of our prompt return, she had made her preparations; then, to wile away the time, she was studying a duet on the guitar with Oyouki. Not a question did she ask, nor a reproach did she make. Quite the contrary.
Oyouki bursts into our room like a rocket, bringing, on a charming little tray, sweetmeats which have been blessed and bought at the gates of the temple yonder, on purpose for us, and which we must positively eat at once, before the virtue is gone out of them. Scarcely rousing ourselves, we absorb these little edibles flavored with sugar and pepper, and return a great many sleepy thanks.
Chrysanthème drags me by the hand, and I allow myself to be led. There they are, sleeping in a row under their blue gauze tent, lighted by the night-lamps burning before the altars of their ancestors. Ha! I observe that they are arranged in an order which might give rise to gossip. First comes Mdlle. Oyouki, very taking in her attitude of rest.
Although Oyouki has a heavy heart, she can not prevent herself from indulging in a few bursts of childish laughter while she works. Madame Prune, bathed in tears, no longer restrains her feelings; poor old lady, I really very much regret.... Chrysantheme is absent-minded and silent. But what a fearful amount of luggage!
At first it was only to Chrysantheme's guitar that I listened with pleasure now I am beginning to like her singing also. She has nothing of the theatrical, or the deep, assumed voice of the virtuoso; on the contrary, her notes, always very high, are soft, thin, and plaintive. She often teaches Oyouki some romance, slow and dreamy, which she has composed, or which comes back to her mind.
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