NUMA ROUMESTAN,
31
whining little Môfres, who, though threatened
every other minute with decapitation, skinning,
scalping, and the like, poked their fingers into
all the open barrels all the same. Products of
the South, too, might be truly called the gesticu-
lating and voluble customers, who talked tor
hours over a purchase amounting to two sous,
or who calmly seated themselves to discuss the
relative merits of sausage seasoned with garlic,
and sausage seasoned with pepper, while any
quantity of flies attracted by the preserves can-
died fruits and bonbons, buzzed noisely about,
even in the middle of winter, kept alive by the
intense heat which was constantly maintained
in the establishment. And when any stray
Parisian becoming irritated by the slowness and
indifference of the attendants, ventured to ex-
postulate you should have heard the shrill
voice and harsh accent with which he was in-
formed that, "If he was in a hurry, the door
was open, and the tramway passes in front of
it, as you know very well."                 _
Father Valmajour had been received with
open arms by these copatriots, M. and Mme.
Mèfre recollected to have seen him years be-
fore at a tambourinists' contest at the Beaucaire
Fair; and among the old Southerners the Beau-
caire Fair which now exists only in name,
has remained a sort of bond of fraternity. In
former times it was the event of the year in the
South. People made great and protracted prep-
arations for it, and talked of it for months after-
ward. It was promised to wives and children
as the greatest of rewards, and if one could not
take them, one must be sure to bring them home
a lace mantilla or a toy. This fair allowed one,
on the pretext of business, to enjoy a fortnight
or a month of unconstrained and exuberant life,
very m-ich like that of a gypsy encampment.
People slept about anywhere, in the houses of
the. inhabitants, in the stores, on the counters,
under the canvas-covered wagons or in the open
street under the warm light of the July stars.
And oh! the delightful bargaining in the
shops, the contracts concluded while eating
one's dinner in one's shirt-sleeves by the door;
the long line of booths along the banks of the
Rhone whicli was covered with vessels of every
description, come from Aries, Barcelona, and
Marseilles laden with fish, wines, cork, and
oranges, and gayly decorated with flags and
streamers'. And such a noisy, motley crowd of
Spaniards, Sardinians, and Greeks in long tu-
nics and embroidered slippers. Armenians in
fur caps and Turks with embroidered jackets
and fans! All this was a sight which once seen
could never be forgotten.
In the Mèf res' establishment one felt perfectly
at ease, something, indeed, as one felt at the
Beaucaire Fair, and in fact, the shop, in its
picturesque disorder, strongly resembled an ex-
hibition of Southern products. Here were sacks
of flour in gold-colored paper, gray peas as
large and hard as buckshot, jtirs of green, black
and pickled olives, casks of oil, barrels of Apt
pickles made of melon-rinds, Pgs, quinces, and
anything else that might have been left on hand.
Higher up on the shelves were conserves and
countless tin cans containing the special dainties
of each city: Nîmes chicken, Montélimart nou-
gat, and Aix biscuits, all suitably decorated and
labeled.
And then the fruits! Figs of every variety,
lemons, green and red peppers, huge melons,
Muscatel raisins, immense onions, whole regi-
ments of bananas striped with black and yellow,
•whole mountains of oranges and pomegranates,
and hanging on the walls, from the ceiling and
around the'door, chaplets of onions and dried
carob-beans—commonly known as St. John's
bread—venison, and maize. In short, summer,
Southern sunshine in boxes, sacks and jars,
shining even out upon the pavement through
the damp, mist covered windows.
Here old Valmajour fluttered excitedly about
hour after hour; and he who shirked the slight-
est task at home, and boasted of having per-
formed a herculean achievment if he served a
button on his vest, was always ready to lend a
band here in opening and unpacking cases,
picking out an olive or a raisin here and there,
and enlivening the labors of the day by his
stories and jokes, and on one evening in the
week—that on which the brandade arrived—lie
remained very late to assist in filling the orders
for that dainty.
This Southern dish is no stranger to us and
can often be procured at other establishments;
but the viand in all its white creamy perfection
is fabricated only at Nîmes, the birthplace of
the Mèf res. It came by express every Thurs-
day evening at seven  o'clock,  and  was dis-
tributed early Friday morning to all the regular
customers, whose names were inscribed upon
the big book of the store. Upon the soiled and
crumpled pages of this day-book, smelling
strongly of spices and of oil, is recorded the
history of the conquest of Paris by the. Merid-
ionals, for there one finds long columns of
names, some of millionaires, some of political
and manufacturing celebrities, names of cele-
brated lawyers, deputies and ministers, and
among them that of Roumestan, pillar of the
church and state.
For that line upon wliich Roumestan's name
is written, the Mèfres would willingly throw
all the rest of the book into the fire, for he is
the representative of their most cherished ideas
in regard to religion, politics—everything. As
Mme. Mèfre, even more enthusiastic than her
husband, remarked:
"One would accept damnation for such a
man as that."
How she loved to refer to the time when
Numa, already well started on the road to fame,
had not disdained to come in person to make
his purchases! How pleasant he had been at
such times, how handsome and imposing, never
without a compliment for madame, a kind
word for his dear brother, and a caress for the
little Metres, who always accompanied him to
the carriage, carrying his bundles. Since his
elevation to the ministry those scoundrelly Rad-
icals in both Chambers had kept him so busy
that they never saw him any more, but he re-
mained a faithful patron of the establishment
and was always the first served.
One Thursday evening, about ten o'clock, all
the pots of brandade carefully wrapped up and
addressed, were ranged in order upon the
counter, and tlie Mèfre family, the clerks and
old Valmajour were resting with the air of per-
sons who had completed an arduous task, aud
regaling themselves with biscuits and orgeat,
" something sweet," for Southerners as a rule
have little fondness for strong drink. Among
this people alcoholic intoxication is almost un-
known; the race has an instinctive fear and
horror of it. Nevertheless they are intoxicated
from their birth, intoxicated without drinking;
for the sun and the wind distills for them a ter-
rible natural alcohol of which they all feel the
effects more or less. One should see the peas-
ants standing upon the tables, howling and
stamping at Provençal festivals, an entire vil-
lage helplessly drunk from a few bottles of
lemonade.
Though not as excitable as his daughter,
Father Valmajour was by no means cold in
temperament, and this evening his glass of or-
geat incited him to such mad gayety that stand-
ing in the center of the shop, glass in hand, he-
began to play all sorts of fantastic pranks, until
the little Môfres flung themseives down on the
flour sacks in convulsions of laughter.
" Oh, this Valmajour, was there ever any one
like him?"
Suddenly the old man's gayety deserted him,
and his clownish gesture was arrested by the
sudden appearance before him of a trembling
Provençal coif.
" What are you doing here, father?"
Mme.   Méfre lifted her hands in   astonish-
ment.
"What! is this your daughter? You never
told us—how small she is, but very pretty cer-
tainly.    Take a seat, mademoiselle."
Quite as much from a habit of lying as to
gain more liberty, the old man had not spoken
of his children, but gave them to understand
that he was an old bachelor living on his in
come, but among Southerners such subterfuges
are not considered of much importance; and
even had a whole string of little Valmajours
followed Audiberte they would have received
the same cordial welcome. They all bustled
about to find a chair for her, and eagerly in-
sisted that she too, should partake of some re-
freshment.
The Provençale was unable to speak, so great
was her astonishment. Coming from the cold
and darkness of the December night without,
from foggy streets in which the feverish life of
Paris was still raging in spite of the hour, com-
ing from the North suddenly and without tran-
sition, she found herself in Italian Provence,
in this magasin Mèfre, filled to overflowing
with Southern dainties of every description,
provided for the approaching holidays, and in
the midst of familiar perfumes and accents, it
was an unexpected return to lier own country,
after a year of exile and suffering among bar-
barians. A pleasant glow crept over her, re-
laxing her tense nerves, and she  soon  found
herself talking as easily and familiarly with
these worthy people as if she had known them
for twenty years. She seemed suddenly re-
stored to her old life and habits, and tears rose
to her eyes, those hard, fiery eyes whicli seldom
wept.
The name of Roumestan suddenly quelled
this emotion. lt was uttered by Mme.
Mèfre, who was examining the addresses on
the packages, and bidding the boy to be sure
and make no mistake, but to take Numa's not
to the Rue de Grenelle, but the Ruede Londres.
"Brandade does not seem to be in favor on
the Rue de) Grenelle," one of the products of
the South remarked.
"That is true," replied M. Mèfre. "A
Northern wife of the most pronounced type.
All butter cooking there, while at the Rue de
Londres there is plenty of fun and olive oil. I
can very readily understand why Numa should
enjoy himself better there."
Then they chatted about this little menage
near the depot, where the Minister could rest
after the fatigues of the session, free from vis-
itors and parade. To be sure Mme. Mèfre
would have raised a lively row had such a state
of things existed in her own household, but
such proclivities were only natural in Numa.
Had not Charles X. aud Henry V. been guilty
of like peccadilloes? And as for Numa, why,
the fault went with his Bourbon nose.
And with all this gayety, and with the ridi-
cule Southerners bestow upon all love affairs,
was mingled an antagonism of races, a hatred
of this Northeru woman, and the "butter
cooking," while they became eloquent as they
related'anedotes of little Alice, and described
her charms and her successes at the Grand
Opera House.
"I saw Madame Bachellery at the Beaucaire
Fair," remarked Valmajour. "Shewas sing-
ing then at the Café Thibaut. "
Audiberte listened breathlessly, for fear of
losing a word, engraving the name and address
upon her mind, and her eyes sparkled with a
baneful light not born of the thimbleful of
Carthaginfan wine she had been drinking.
CHAPTER   XVII.
At the sound of a light rap at the door of
her chamber, Mme. Roumestan started as if
detected in a crime, and cautiously closing the
drawer of the Louis Quinze bureau before
which she was kneeling, she asked:
" Who is there?   What is wanting, Polly?"
" A letter for madame;  it is very urgent,"
replied the Englishwoman.
Rosalie tooklhe letter and hastily reclosed the
door. The handwriting was coarse and strange
to her, the paper cheap, and the envelope bore
the "Personal and urgent " so frequently seen
on begging letters. A Parisian maid would
neve7have disturbed her mistress for such a
trifle. Shs threw it upon ihe bureau, deferring
its perusal until later, and reopened the drawer
which contained the dainty infant's wardrobe
she had prepared years before. Never since
that tragedy in her life eight years before had
she opened this drawer, not even since the
sweet "hope of approaching maternity had again
been awakened in her heart, for she had felt a
superstitious fear of again bringing misfortune
upon herself by this caress bestowed upon the
child soon to be born, through its tiny gar-
ments.
This brave-hearted woman had all a woman's
nervousness, all the delicacy and sensitiveness
of the mimosa. The world which judged with-
out understanding her called her cold, as the ig-
norant imagine that flowers have no feeling.
But now it was necessary to draw all these little
garments from their hiding place, and perhaps
alter them, for fashions change even for infants.
It was for this task that Rosalie had carefully
shut hersself up in her own room, and in that
great busy ministry, with all its feverish run-
ning to and fro from one office to.anotber, there
was certainly nothing as serious nor,as touching
as this woman kneeling with throbbing heart
and trembling hands before this open drawer.
She lifted the slightly yellow lace that pre-
served in its perfumed folds this pile of snowy
garments, the caps, the baptismal robe, the little
dresses and tiny socks. She saw herself again
at Orsay working for hours together under the
shade of a great catalpa, whose white petals fell
into her work-basket among her spools and em-
broidery scissors. In what illusions she iiad
then indulged ! What a joyous warbling there
had been in the branches over her head.   What

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