United States or Bosnia and Herzegovina ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !


I was about to tell you Mademoiselle Hermine's story." Concealing his delight with an assumed air of resignation, M. Fortunat reseated himself, to the intense disgust of Chupin, who was thoroughly tired of waiting outside in the cold. "I must tell you," began Madame Vantrasson, "that when this happened at least twenty-five years ago the De Chalusse family lived in the Rue Saint-Dominique.

She possessed the distinguishing characteristic of her family in a remarkable degree that proverbial Chalusse obstinacy which Madame Vantrasson had alluded to in her conversation with M. Fortunat. She was silent for a moment, and then, in a firm tone she said: "Still, I will follow your advice in part, baron. This evening I will write to M. Patterson and request him to send for Wilkie.

Everything has been carefully arranged. To-morrow night at the latest Madame Leon will let this man into the Hotel de Chalusse by the garden gate, which she has kept the key of. Vantrasson, as the man is called, knows the management of the house, and he will break open the escritoire and take the vial away.

I inquired for some one to do the heavy work, and she mentioned a poor woman named Vantrasson, who lives in the neighborhood, and who is anxious to obtain employment. They were to inform her this evening, and you will see her to-morrow. And above all, don't forget that you are henceforth Madame Maumejan."

Madame Vantrasson feared so, and turning eagerly to her husband, she exclaimed: "Run to the tobacco shop in the Rue de Levis; you will find some paper there!" He started off at once, and M. Fortunat breathed freely again.

"Then I shall want thirty francs a month," replied Madame Vantrasson, promptly. Pascal and his mother exchanged glances. They were both unfavorably impressed by this woman, and were equally determined to rid themselves of her, which it was easy enough to do. "Too dear!" said Madame Ferailleur; "I have never given over fifteen francs."

And I followed them along the dusty highways in the hot sunshine, panting, perspiring, and tottering under the weight of a heavy basket of provisions, which were eaten on the grass or in the woods, and the remnants of which fell to me. Madame Greloux's brother generally accompanied us; and his name would have lingered in my memory, even if it had not been a peculiar one. He was called Vantrasson.

She felt that Pascal must not be consoled, but spurred on to fresh efforts; and so mustering all her courage, she said: "Are you acquainted with Mademoiselle Marguerite's past life? No. You only know that hers has been a life of great vicissitudes and so it is not strange that she should be slandered." "In that case, mother," said Pascal, "you were wrong to interrupt Madame Vantrasson.

This much was certain: Chupin, who knew every wine-shop on the Route d'Asnieres, did not remember any such powerful matron as the porter had described. He had not forgotten Madame Vantrasson. But to imagine any bond of interest between Pascal and such a woman as she was, seemed absurd in the extreme.

And yet, the modest dinner was excellent. Madame Vantrasson was really a good cook, and in this first effort in her new situation she had surpassed herself. Her vanity as a cordon-bleu was piqued because she did not receive the compliments she expected, and which she felt she deserved.