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Updated: June 8, 2025
What a great ninny that Zizi was to be taking on so about nothing at all! By her child's soul she swore she loved nobody except her own Georges. And with that she kissed him and wiped away his tears. "Now just listen! You'll see that it's all for your sake," she went on when he had grown somewhat calmer. "Steiner has arrived he's up above there now.
Pale, disenchanted, with her mind upon other things, in the flickering light of the candles which seemed to be burning incense, the air was so heavy with the odor of the hyacinths and lilacs in the garden, she began a Creole ballad very popular in Louisiana, which Madame Dobson herself had arranged for the voice and piano: "Pauv' pitit Mam'zelle Zizi, C'est l'amou, l'amou qui tourne la tete a li."
"Oh, that's first rate!" cried the young woman. "Zizi can put 'em all on. You're not angry with me, eh? When your clothes are dry you can put them on again, and then off with you, as fast as fast can be, so as not to have a scolding from your mamma. Make haste! I'm going to change my things, too, in the dressing room."
Until she was fifteen, she never had been called anything but Ziree or Zizi, and she was the pauv' pitit of the Creole ballad to the life, the ever-neglected, ever-faithful lover. In vain now did the other sing. Frantz no longer heard her or saw her. He was in that poor room, beside the great armchair, on the little low chair on which he had sat so often awaiting the father's return.
Zizi for the first time had his doubts about its being merely electricity. 'C'est d'une puissance extraordinaire, was the widow's whispered, eager verdict. 'C'est que j'ai enormement de fluide ce soir, declared Zizi, with pride and confidence, yet mystified. The other two exchanged frequent glances of surprise, of wonder, of keen expectancy and anticipation.
She had a low forehead, a flat nose, thick lips, coarse hair, and a skin not golden like that of Zizi, but the colour of clay. As she was always being teased about her complexion, she got as noisy and cross as a titmouse. So they used to call her Titty. Titty was often sent by the bricklayer to fetch water from the fountain, and as she was very proud and lazy the gypsy disliked this very much.
The rain caught me on my way here, and then, as I didn't wish to go upstream as far as Gumieres, I crossed the Choue and fell into a blessed hole." Nana forgot the strawberries forthwith. She was trembling and full of pity. That poor dear Zizi in a hole full of water! And she drew him with her in the direction of the house and spoke of making up a roaring fire.
They began with a little prayer to ceux qui ecoutent, and then each of them placed a finger on the rim of the upturned saucer, waiting in silence. They were a study in darkness, those three pointing fingers. 'Zizi, tu as beaucoup de fluide ce soir, oui? whispered the widow after a considerable interval. 'Oh, comme d'habitude, he shrugged his shoulders.
And now, Rambouillet, he went on, resuming his spirits as he turned to matters of more importance, 'here is a new sweetmeat Zamet has sent me. I have made Zizi sick with it. Will you try it? It is flavoured with white mulberries. Thus dismissed, I fell back; and stood for a moment, at a loss whither to turn, in the absence of either friends or acquaintances.
'Chut! he answered, rising, his face still betraying his perturbation, 'Well, be it so. For the present you may go, sir. Duchess, give me Zizi, and come to my closet. I want you to see my puppies. Retz, my good friend, do you come too. I have something to say to you. Gentlemen, you need not wait. It is likely I shall be late. And, with the utmost abruptness, he broke up the circle.
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