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Risler looked at her with wide-open eyes: "You?" "Why, yes, it is easy enough to see that all these people detest me. They bear little Chebe a grudge because she has become Madame Risler Aine. Heaven only knows all the outrageous things that are said about me! And your cashier doesn't keep his tongue in his pocket, I assure you. What a spiteful fellow he is!" These few words had their effect.
But the most terrible moment of all was the arrival in Rue de Braque, where the whole house was in a state of commotion, and the inquisitive curiosity of the neighbors must be endured. Early in the morning the whole quarter had been informed of her disappearance. It was rumored that she had gone away with Frantz Risler.
Risler noticed that circumstance, and as the little girl had been ailing a few days before, he felt anxious about her, remembering Madame Georges's strange agitation when she passed him so hurriedly in the afternoon; and he retraced his steps as far as Pere Achille's lodge to inquire. The lodge was full.
Risler would try to invent new combinations of flowers and leaves, and, while he handled his pencil, his thoughts, not finding sufficient food there, would escape him, would fly back to his past happiness, to his hopeless misfortunes, would suffer martyrdom, and then, on returning, would ask the poor somnambulist, still seated at his table: "What have you done in my absence?"
Nor was honest Risler a very entertaining companion; but that did not prevent the young woman from welcoming him kindly. She knew all that was said about Sidonie in the factory; and although she did not believe half of it, the sight of the poor man, whom his wife left alone so often, moved her heart to pity.
With another husband I might perhaps have succeeded, but with Risler it was terrible. He was forever talking about you and your success and your future Frantz said this; Frantz did that He loves you so well, poor fellow! And then the most cruel thing to me is that your brother looks like you.
At that moment Risler has taken the tiny creature in his arms, the whole fascinating bundle of white draperies and light ribbons, and is trying to make it laugh and crow with baby-talk and gestures worthy of a grandfather. How old he looks, poor man!
Georges Fromont had just informed him that, in accordance with his uncle's last wishes, he was to marry his cousin Claire, and that, as he was certainly unequal to the task of carrying on the business alone, he had resolved to take him, Risler, for a partner, under the firm name of FROMONT JEUNE AND RISLER AINE.
He did it at first in rather a vague way. "Monsieur Georges is spending a great deal of money," he said to him one day. Risler exhibited no surprise. "What do you expect me to do, my old Sigismond? It is his right." And the honest fellow meant what he said. In his eyes Fromont jeune was the absolute master of the establishment.
He said it without enthusiasm, hopelessly, with the satisfaction of a task accomplished, and nothing more. The bell rang for the workmen to return, and Risler went calmly upstairs to resume his work as on other days. In a moment he came down again. In spite of all, that news had excited him more than he cared to show.
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