THE EASTER WIDOWER.

Press, Volume LXIV, Issue 13151, 25 June 1908, Page 3

THE EASTER WIDOWER.

Bγ Pizb&k Vkbss. No owe ever knew bow it happened that Paul Humblevault was always dressed in the latest faehion. Maitre Jeffimar, in whose legal office he exercdsod the functions of head clerk, even conceived some uneasiness about the matter. It seemed impossible that an employee at 6000 francs a rear could drees so elegantly without dipping inito his employer's strongbox.. Often be put the query to him: — "Mr Efarnblerautt. might one ask the address of yoar tailor?" And would name a modest Polish tailor who repaired the breeches of the good people that oolooise tie of Porte St. Denis. At the end. of several months, when Maitre; Jessmar had decided that he was - ceriainiv not beintr robbed, when he oaiculated tiiat net a centime was missing ; from : hie strongbox, he oonoeded that Paul Hnmhleraalt most be obtamang his resonroes by some more or less legitimate method. Further than this, lie began to show a kindly feeling for this ©lerkv wboee appearance and bearing did-ixroour to'the office, he confided to him the reading of wills in titled families and the pro-, ctanation of cootracte among leading} "< fimneiere.' And-ererywhftm'tbe -irre-

proacbable exterior of the clerk produced a lively impression The most contradictory rumoutre about the matter were circulated around the office. Some said that Paul Humblevault was protected by a banker who could not acknowledge himself as the clerk's father, and who had an intrigue with a personage of royal blood; thus it was that Humblevault was marked with the sign which fate imprinie on the foreheads of men destined to play a great part in the world. The sign in question was really the scar left by a burn from an alcohol lamp ivhioh an awkward nurse had inflicted of yore upon, little Humblevault. Other companions, less romantic, insinuated that the head clerk had established himself in the good graces of an oW lady, immensely rich, who loved this mysterious young man with an altogether platowic affection. Now it happens that we are in position to unveil the truth. Here it is: — You know that Count de Perrault was the most acTomplished gentleman of hie period. From 1902 to 1912 he was the model of all tho elegancies; be addressed with a taste, a correctness, that were unique, and nevertheless he set the newest fashions. All this was because ho knew how to stop at the right time. The moment that a mode was in danger of exaggeration the Count found that would replace it. He never wore the same .quit more than a fortnight. At the &nd of two weeks ho would abandon it to Francis, his valet. Francis would sell the clothes to a second-hand dealer. Father Gusiave, and Father Gustave would hang them among those cast-off garments of officers, academicians and ushers that bear witness. in shops of this sort to the an-nihilation of all social distinctions. Now, Paul Humblevelt, happening to pass Father Gustavo's establishment, had remarked the spoils won from Count de Perrault. These garments, of unique cut and style, fashioned from the richest sort of material, attracted his attention. Hβ entered Father Gustavo's store and bargained .for them. Them he tried them on; they fitted him to perfection; they seemed as if they were made for him; coat, this waistcoat, these pantaloons suited him to a T. As he paid over the 60 francs demanded by the dealer the latter said to him :—"lf you like those clothes you might subscribe for them regularly. The owner sells mc his wardrobe- every momfch, and I will give you the preference whenever I have them. for reselling." Lawyer Jeasmar's olerk accepted the bargain. Every month he came to Father Gustave's shop and purchased the cast-off dot&es of Oounit Perrault. A brush with the wisp and a touch with the flatiron and they reassumed an air of absolute newness. For the pTice of one ordinary suit this astute young man secured four of exquisite cut. He cared little whence these clothes originated, and he sold them very soon, at w> loss, to another second-hand dealer, for the elegance of Count Perrault imposed similar elegance upon himself, and he had to "follow suit." In fact, he mono-polised the Perrault wardrobe, not wishing to give anybody else the opportunity of profiting by the harvest. And, to sum up, he had his reward. In his own circle lie enjoyed l the consideration that attaches iteelf to young people of good family who know how to dress. He even had considerable success among women. A star of the music halls and a very famous person in the demi-monde gave him "the opportunity to visit their apartments. But let-us paes on. Young Hiimblevaiult had only one ambition—to marry a rich girl—and this he deemed quite possible. For rich girls appreciate all tJba-t ie chic. Poor girls also appreciate it, but they do hot.figure in the calculations of young lawyers' clerks, who wish to become lawyers in their turn. And Paul Humblevault dreamed of the day when some young person with expectations would offer him the means for purchaeing the Jeesmar office. French lawyers still have the right to wear a comical costume whioh makes them look like ushers at c funeral. They array themselves in this costume once a year, when they have reifnion, and they have themselves photographed, co disguised, for the edification of their little ones. Paul Humblevault, in his dreams, sew himself dressed in this black suit with a large cape. And every time that he went out to officiate l in N the great world on evenings when marriage contracts were read, he expected that some one of the young ladies seated behind attentive grandparaiTte might be struck as with a thunderbolt. Then after the reading be would, of course, bo invited to dance. But m> to the time when our story opens ris maneeuvres had resulted in nothing. Paul did not allow himself to become discouraged. Did not Napoleon say something like this:—"lf you wish to be right you must deceive yourself with an immediate recovery of your mental balance? ,, . The smiling calm of Paul Humble■vauk'a life was suddenly troubled. It eeeincd to him that he was growing fax! - The Count's clothes were apparently getting to fit him too snugly. Thae greatly diequieted him. You can, in. fact, change to your awn meaeure clottat that' are too bi£ for you,, but

clothes that are too small cannot easily be enlarged. And already envious clerks were beginning to tell their associate: "HumblevauK, take care-; you are. becoming too stout!" HumW-evault glanced at himself. "He who often weighs-himself knows well!' , says the proverb. He divi often woigh himself His weight never varied. And none the less his clothes grew tighter and tighter. The clerk put himself on c diet. He lost five ounces, then ten! Ho forced himself to walk at every opportunity. Thus he lost a pound more. . He heroically renounced the eating of meet, he left off drinking a', meals. He even went withoirt breakfast ! A useless ordeal! And at last Humblevault w-as driven to accept the awful truth. It was not that be woe gaining flesh 1 It was that the first proprietor of his cloth-es was losing it! He was losing flesh with astounding rapidity. From fortnight to fortnight his clothes shrank steadily. Undoubtedly some catestrophe was oiertnrning the universe of the unknown, and Paul Humblevault fell into the deepest perplexity. Either he must renounce i.he eleganco which nad won him so much esteem, which promised him so bright a future, or else he must learn what it was that was melting awey in this fashion the brilliant personage whose clothes ho wore. . So the clerk called on Father Gustave and asked him for tho name of the gentleman to whom the said clathes belonged. "I do not know his name," said the dealer. "Everything that could give any clue as to the proprietor is always carefully removed from the clothes. The tailor's band on pantaloons and waistcoat and on tho inner pocket of the coat, initials or name elsewhere—ell these, you understand, have disappeared when the ctothos are disposed of to mc. I know only one thing, and tliat is that the valet who brings them to mc is one Francis, and that every evening, from ten to eleven, lie plays billiards at the Cafe of the Two Sisters, in Messina Avenue." Armed with those directions, tho clerk that same evening made his appearance at the Cafe of the Two Sisters. In the rear room two men were playing billiards—a chauffeur and an old man, clean shaven and bald. At the end of some minutes, Paul ascertained that the bald man wee probably Francis. Ho at once conquered tho good will of Francis by discreet approvals of his play flung out in a low voice. "Well played." "Oh, that was hard luck!" "Just a little more and it would have been a hit!" "Ah, that's not so oad!" Tho chauffeur, having easily won the game, took his departure, and Mr ! Francis proposed to play a game with the sympathetic onlooker, whoso admiration had mollified the bitterness of his defeat. Paul Humblevault accepted tho challenge, though he trembled at the thought of being seen playing with a eimple valet. Despite- the fact thet he possessed remarkable skill and had won the prize at many an amateur tournament, he was careful to yield the advantage to hie adversary. Thus Francis had the happiness to win from a much superior player. Between two games, while they were discussing their majsagran, Francis said to the olerk:— ''You have a good style." "Oh, yes," was Humblevault's modest answer, "I have style, but that's all. As to you, you play with a mastery." "I have practised. a great deal. There is a billiard table in my master's house, the Count de Perrault.'' "The Count de Perrault?" asked the clerk. "I know the name very well." "Why, of course, you know it. His name is always in the papers. _ At least it used to be. But now, since the illness of the Conntess, the Count doesn't 20 out any more." . Paul Hnmblevault dissimulated his joy. Now at last he knew why the original proprietor of his clothes was thinning down. A heartache was the reason: Paul was adroit enough not to provoke any furjier confidence from Francis, who, pn hoe part, had no hesitation in telling all that 'went on at his maeter's home. The Count de Perramlt had made a love match with one of his cousins, a very pretty girl, who, like him, had a taste for the elegancies of life. For several months the life of the young couple had been a series of parties, of social gaietiesc. Then, with the beginning of wapter, the Countess had been' seized with a lingering illness. Immediately the Count renounced the worldly life, had installed himself at the -bedside of hie wife. Little by little the beloved patient had wasted away with her. "front you think to can save herP" cried the clerk, betrayed into an excess of interest. "No," said Francis.. "She is lost. And if you care for my opinion, I do not thiiik the Count will survive her. It's too bad, for the place is c very good one. In perquisites alone I can make a hundred francs a month out of it." When Paul left his new friend h* was fully acquainted with everything that concerned the Count and Countess of Perrault. The old servant had hidden nothing from him, and he foresaw a denouement to. which everything - pointed. In fact, one month latex, when he presented himself at Father Gustavo's" shop, the latter offered him a suit of black cloth. \ According to agreement, Paul was forced to acquire it, end, as he was an economical lad, • wear it. Whereupon all the people he knew accosted him with an air of sympathy, saying:— "My poor friend. I didn't know you were in mourning. I received no announcement from you. Whom have you lost?" At about the same time Paul observed that the Count no longer had the same taste in dress. He who had once set the fashions seemed to renounce all interest in the matter. Hβ wore his clothes for a longer time, and did not exact so rigid a standard from his tailor. Hie grief absorbed him. Furthermore, ho continued losing flesh. This thing couldn't laet. Paul Humblevault once more went round to the little cafe in Messina avenue. Hβ again found Francis there, and he, like himself, was weiring mourning for lime, de Perrault. He proposed a game of billiards, which ho lost with the same adroitness as be: fore. Since the death in the family Francis had hid no opportunity of playing. The game absorbed him. so that it was difficult to draw any oanfidenoos from him. At last he told how the Countess of Perrault had left this -world for a better one. "The Count, my master, ie in a etate of mind. He no longer goes into society. He remains at home, shut up. He weeps. Hβ doesn't eat my more, ho doesn't sleep any more. I think he will not delay long in rejoining Madame!" "Sapristi!" cried Paul. "Hβ must be made to brace up." "And how, sir? , " "Well, he should re-marry. There yon are!" Francis shook his head with an air of pity. "Tho Count will never again find a Countess de Perrault." "Was she co beautiful as all that?" "Beautiful? She wae more than beautiful I Sne was a stunner." And when Paul enquired for the details that Francis summed up in the epithet of stunner, he learned that Mme. de Perrault was, whiio living, a large young woman, neither too fat nor too slim, with a well turned figure and a face showing decision of character, and with brown curls and Very soft bluo eyes. She was a good musician and sang a little; she rode a horse well; she liked travel, movement, people; she knew how to dress; she had intellect. "A. fortnneP" w *~,.,.. . -

"No. Hardly any. Tho Count is very rich. ,- ---"Noble?" "No. She was born a Rafiot."', By midnight the clerk had lost' three hundred points, but he was marvellously well equipped with information about the late Countess. And he had. arrived at a great decision—ho was, going to remarry the Count! It was necessary, indeed, to make him remarry before Easter—that is to say, before the end of ten months, so as to renew at a useful season his light j weight clothes. i Next morning Paul hunted up at the; office the list-of clients —widows, old J maids, divorced women.,. After severe j examination he retained three names— j Mme. de Fratichel, Mise Decevant, and Mme. Aaimusson. •' - All three were tall, brunette, pretty, and rich. The widow of the Baron de Franchel, j however, gave herself up exclusively to ■ good works— tnero was no chance there. As to Miss Decovant, she was too intelligent, too much interested in questions of hygiene, in medicine; she was fond of sociology. There was no chance either with a woman who thinks. Mme. do Franchel' and Mile. Decovant must bo eliminated. Mme. Aumusson remained. And it was this name that the clerk kept. Mme. Aumusson, in fact, was the divorced wife of a pretty bad lot, whom she had married for love, and who had introduced her to all sorts of trouble. This gentleman had taken it upon himself to destroy, one by one, the illusions she had formed abouMhim, and it had taEen him no less ten years to give his wiTo a more realistic impression of tho truth. But that was not his fault. It must be conceded that he applied himself to the task with a strength and a persistence which would have appeared highly praiseworthy if expended in other channels. Finally, he had proved himself to be of such virtuosity in vice and in infamy that his wife had resigned herself to the necessity of procuring a divorce, and the Court in granting it had complimented her upon having succeeded in living ten years with such-a person. The President had even added:— "I couldn't have done it myself!" Mme. Aumusson who had now boon divorced for a year, was wearying herself to death. She wae chic, she was fascinating. She dressed in black by way of defiance, because it is said not to be becoming to brunettes, and because she imagined herself to be disgusted with life. Paul decided that she should be, with tho briefest possible delay, tho Countess of Perrault. And this is tho stratagem Mat he imagined, and that he had tMj andacity to put into execution:—^ Hβ- wrote- to Mme. Aunvusson: "Madame, a gentleman suffers; you alone can rescue him from the black trouble that gnaws at his heart. He does not know that I .am writing to you, but on Moody morning, between eleven and twelve, he wiU be at the Avenue dv Blois. He will have a dark pink in his button-hole." Next he wrote to Monsieur Iβ Comte de Perrault:— "Dear Sir, —A young woman suffers. You ak>np can rescue her from the black trouble that gnaws at her heart. She does not know that I am writing to you, but on Monday morning, between eleven and twelve, she will be at the Avenue dv Blois. Put, without affectation, a dark , -pink in your buttonhole." When they received these letters the two interested parties shrugged their shoulders. "What sort of idiot is it who is trying this hoax upon mc?" Nevertheless the letters set their- imagination working. "After all, how can one tell?" On Monday morning the Count and Mm©. Aurnus&bn were in the Avenue dv Blois. They did not, indeed, dare to carry the signs of recognition. That would have prevented them from denying that they "nod been caught by & trick. They promenaded up and down tho avenue several v times, examining all the passers-by. Several times they met. The Count remarked Mme. Aumusson, who was of tho typo he preferred. Mme. Aumusson asked herself if this gentleman -*co black, so distinguished,- wh£ had looked at her so steadfastly, might not be the man of sorrow. On Wednesday the Count wore in his- boutonniexe an enormous pink of the darkest hue, which looked a good deal like a, chrysanthemum, so that it.might be better seen. She recognised the Count; the Count recognised her. He even dared to accost her. "Madame, axe you tho lady of whom the letter speaks?" "Sir," eaid she, in wratii, "I do not understand a try of this jesting?" '"Nor I, either, Madame. And 1 would like to help you to seek for the imbecile who has dared '' They did not seek long. After ten minutes of conversation their thoughts passed to quite other things; they had exchanged confidences about their sorrows, and they were "astonished that they had talked x> much upon these matters, seeing taat they did not know each other." To whom would they not communicate their most secret thoughts if they did so to the first comer? And it came about even as Paul had imagined it would. These two great sorrows proved a solace for each other. The Count of Perrault forgot the unfortunate Countess with a rapidity that savoured of miracle, while Mme. Aumusson ceased of a sudden to speak evil of men in general. And the clothes of the Count de Perrault ceased to shrink any further. On the contrary, they resumed with tiheir custonurry light tints a more comfortable measure. For a moment. Paul feared that the Count might exaggerate \ On the day when the marriage contract w<as read, Maitre Humblevault, chief clerk of Maitre dessniar, acting for Mme. Aumusson, the wife of Perrault, read the document in the Perrault mansion before a brilliant assembly. There were men there of the greafc real and pretended nobles, financiers, diplomats, military men, and a good third of the Academy. And while Paul Humblevault read with measured voice the list of the goods and chattels of the newly-united couple, he thought to himself: "To think that those people have no idea that it is to mc, Paul Humblevault, they owe their happiness 1" They never knew it. All the same, on this night of the contract Mile. Blanche Vertout, daughter, of Tapioca Vertout. was seized with a sudden paesion for this elegant clerk who read so nicely, and immediately on her return home she demanded that her parents should at once obtain for her this distinguished young man, as a consequence of which the office of Maitre Jeeanar pafesed a few months afterward into the hands of Maitre Humblevault.