"Why doesn't the old man marry her?"
"There was no necessity for it, you see," said the Italian. "And though old Vyder is not a bad old fellow, I fancy he is sharp enough to wish to remain the master, while if he once got married--why, the poor man is afraid of the stone that hangs round every old man's neck."
"Could you send for the girl to come here?" said Madame Hulot. "I should see her quietly, and find out what could be done--"
The stove-fitter's wife signed to her eldest girl, who ran off. Ten minutes later she returned, leading by the hand a child of fifteen and a half, a beauty of the Italian type. Mademoiselle Judici inherited from her father that ivory skin which, rather yellow by day, is by artificial light of lily-whiteness; eyes of Oriental beauty, form, and brilliancy, close curling lashes like black feathers, hair of ebony hue, and that native dignity of the Lombard race which makes the foreigner, as he walks through Milan on a Sunday, fancy that every porter's daughter is a princess.
Atala, told by the stove-fitter's daughter that she was to meet the great lady of whom she had heard so much, had hastily dressed in a black silk gown, a smart little cape, and neat boots. A cap with a cherry-colored bow added to the brilliant effect of her coloring. The child stood in an attitude of artless curiosity, studying the Baroness out of the corner of her eye, for her palsied trembling puzzled her greatly.
Adeline sighed deeply as she saw this jewel of womanhood in the mire of prostitution, and determined to rescue her to virtue.
"What is your name, my dear?"
"Atala, madame."
"And can you read and write?"
"No, madame; but that does not matter, as monsieur can."
"Did your parents ever take you to church? Have you been to your first Communion? Do you know your Catechism?"
"Madame, papa wanted to make me do something of the kind you speak of, but mamma would not have it--"
"Your mother?" exclaimed the Baroness. "Is she bad to you, then?"
"She was always beating me. I don't know why, but I was always being quarreled over by my father and mother--"
"Did you ever hear of God?" cried the Baroness.
The girl looked up wide-eyed.
"Oh, yes, papa and mamma often said 'Good God,' and 'In God's name,' and 'God's thunder,' " said she, with perfect simplicity.
"Then you never saw a church? Did you never think of going into one?"
"A church?--Notre-Dame, the Pantheon?--I have seen them from a distance, when papa took me into town; but that was not very often.
There are no churches like those in the Faubourg."
"Which Faubourg did you live in?"
"In the Faubourg."
"Yes, but which?"
"In the Rue de Charonne, madame."
The inhabitants of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine never call that notorious district other than /the/ Faubourg. To them it is the one and only Faubourg; and manufacturers generally understand the words as meaning the Faubourg Saint-Antoine.
"Did no one ever tell you what was right or wrong?"
"Mamma used to beat me when I did not do what pleased her."
"But did you not know that it was very wicked to run away from your father and mother to go to live with an old man?"
Atala Judici gazed at the Baroness with a haughty stare, but made no reply.
"She is a perfect little savage," murmured Adeline.
"There are a great many like her in the Faubourg, madame," said the stove-fitter's wife.
"But she knows nothing--not even what is wrong. Good Heavens!--Why do you not answer me?" said Madame Hulot, putting out her hand to take Atala's.
Atala indignantly withdrew a step.
"You are an old fool!" said she. "Why, my father and mother had had nothing to eat for a week. My mother wanted me to do much worse than that, I think, for my father thrashed her and called her a thief!
However, Monsieur Vyder paid all their debts, and gave them some money --oh, a bagful! And he brought me away, and poor papa was crying. But we had to part!--Was it wicked?" she asked.
"And are you very fond of Monsieur Vyder?"
"Fond of him?" said she. "I should think so! He tells me beautiful stories, madame, every evening; and he has given me nice gowns, and linen, and a shawl. Why, I am figged out like a princess, and I never wear sabots now. And then, I have not known what it is to be hungry these two months past. And I don't live on potatoes now. He brings me bonbons and burnt almonds, and chocolate almonds.--Aren't they good?--I do anything he pleases for a bag of chocolate.--Then my old Daddy is very kind; he takes such care of me, and is so nice; I know now what my mother ought to have been.--He is going to get an old woman to help me, for he doesn't like me to dirty my hands with cooking. For the past month, too, he has been making a little money, and he gives me three francs every evening that I put into a money-box. Only he will never let me out except to come here--and he calls me his little kitten! Mamma never called me anything but bad names--and thief, and vermin!"
"Well, then, my child, why should not Daddy Vyder be your husband?"
"But he is, madame," said the girl, looking at Adeline with calm pride, without a blush, her brow smooth, her eyes steady. "He told me that I was his little wife; but it is a horrid bore to be a man's wife --if it were not for the burnt almonds!"
"Good Heaven!" said the Baroness to herself, "what monster can have had the heart to betray such perfect, such holy innocence? To restore this child to the ways of virtue would surely atone for many sins.--I knew what I was doing." thought she, remembering the scene with Crevel. "But she--she knows nothing."
"Do you know Monsieur Samanon?" asked Atala, with an insinuating look.
"No, my child; but why do you ask?"
"Really and truly?" said the artless girl.
"You have nothing to fear from this lady," said the Italian woman.
"She is an angel."
"It is because my good old boy is afraid of being caught by Samanon.
He is hiding, and I wish he could be free--"
"Why?"
"On! then he would take me to Bobino, perhaps to the Ambigu."
"What a delightful creature!" said the Baroness, kissing the girl.
"Are you rich?" asked Atala, who was fingering the Baroness' lace ruffles.
