Alexandre Dumas - The Romance of Violette

“She spoke to you about me?”

“Yes, Madame. She said how good you had been to her; and at the very time when the poor child needs protection so much, I should be sorry to deprive her of yours.”

“I can can only thank you heartily, and say how happy I am, sir, that the poor child, not having applied to me, should have sought refuge with you.”

Thereupon I wrote the address: “Rue Neuve Saint Augustin; first floor; the folding doors of green velvet. From me-” and I signed: Christian.

I was not known by any other name in the house.

“You will pardon my being so inquisitive, sir,” said the Countess; “but when do you intend calling upon her?”

“This evening, Madam.”

“Will she be in this afternoon?”

“I am certain she will be at home. You will find her, I have no doubt reading Mademoiselle de Maupin.”

“Did you put that book into her hands?”

“Oh no, Madam, she reads any books she likes.”

“I have some business in the Rue de la Paix, after which I shall go to see her.”

I bowed and escorted the Countess as far as the staircase. I then ran to the window and saw the carriage follow the Rue de Rivoli and turn the corner of the Place Vendome.

I at once took my hat and ran downstairs and was at the Rue Saint Augustin in a moment. I had the key of the passage, so I entered noiselessly the dressing room, and, through an opening made on purpose, I saw Violette sitting in a kind of easy chair, with no other garments than her chemise and half opened dressing gown, with her book on her knees, abstractedly playing with one of her little rosebuds peering out of the masses of her black curls flowing on her breast. Scarcely was I installed at my post of observation than Violette showed signs of being aware that there had been a knock at the door.

The young girl stretched out her arm to ring for the lady's maid: she no doubt suddenly recollected that she had gone out, and, rising, she went slowly and noiselessly to the door.

There was another knock.

“Who is there?” asked Violette.

“I; your friend.”

“My friend?”

“Yes; the Countess. I come with M. Christian's consent and am the bearer of a note from him.”

“Oh, then,” said Violette, who knew the voice and recollected our conversation; “you are welcome.” Upon which she opened the door.

The Countess came in and carefully closed the door.

“Are you alone?” she asked.

“Quite alone.”

“And your maid?”

“She is at the dressmaker's.”

“Ah! so much the better; because as I made sure of finding you here, and wishing to spend a few moments with you, I sent away my carriage. I shall take a cab when I leave you. Will you grant me an hour or two in your company?”

“Yes; with the greatest pleasure.”

“Are you pleased to see me?”

“Much pleased.”

“You little ungrateful one!”

Meanwhile the Countess took off her veil, bonnet and cloak and appeared in a long dress of black satin, buttoned all the way up with rose coloured buttons. She wore earrings of the same kind of coral.

“I ungrateful?” said Violette. “Why do you call me ungrateful?”

“Why? You went and entrusted yourself to a young man, instead of having recourse to me.”

“I did not know your name, nor your address or number. Don't you recollect that you were to come today to see me at: two o'clock at the milliner's shop?”

“I did go there, but the bird had flown. It is true that you did not lose by changing your cage. I congratulate you on the one you occupy now.”

“Do you think this one pretty?” asked Violette.

“Delightful! When a painter sets himself to decorating an apartment, he does it with such taste!” Then approaching Violette, she said: “Now, dear little one, I have not even kissed you.”

She took her head with both hands and kissed her lips passionately. Violette instinctively drew back to avoid the kiss, but the Countess kept hold of her.

“Do look now,” she said, beginning to thee and thou her; “how your charming head is set off by the black satin dress.” And she led her to the mirror placed between the two windows. The beautiful fair locks of the Countess fell over Violette's face and mingled with her black hair.

“A! I should have liked to be fair-haired,” said Violette.

“Why so?”

“Because I think fair-haired women are much prettier than dark ones.”

“Do you really speak the truth, my jewel?”

“Oh yes!” said Violette, looking at the Countess with more curiosity than desire.

“As for me, I am only half a blonde,” said the Countess.

“How is that?”

“My eyes and eyebrows are black.”

“But they are very pretty!” said Violette innocently.

“Then you think that I am very handsome?”

“Exceedingly handsome!”

“You little flatterer!” said the Countess, putting her arm round Violette's waist and drawing her on her lap.

“But I shall fatigue you.”

“Never! How warm it is here, little one.”

“But you are buttoned up as if it were winter.”

“You are right, I can hardly breathe. If I were certain nobody would come, I should take off my corset.”

“Have no fear. Nobody will come.”

“There,” said the Countess; and in a moment she unbuttoned her dress and took off her corset, keeping on only a long cambric undergown and her satin dress, which she partly buttoned up again.

“And you, do you not feel too warm in your cashmere dress?”

“Oh, no, see how light it is.”

It was now Violette's turn to undo the bodice of her gown and appear in her pretty cambric chemise and with her naked feet in velvet slippers. The two globes on her breasts showed admirably under the light texture.

“But do look at the little witch,” said the Countess. “She is not fifteen yet, and her bosom is larger than mine!”

With this remark she slipped her hand in the opening of Violette's chemise.

“How marvellous,” she murmured; “and the nipple is rosy, like a blonde's. Ah, little darling; that is quite the counterpart of the contrast between my fair hair and black eyebrows. Let me kiss this little nipple.”

Violette looked about her as if she wished to ask for my leave, though she was not aware of my presence. But the mouth of the Countess was at once glued to her breast, and not only did she kiss the nipple, but she bit it also, gently using her tongue to good purpose the while.

Violette could not refrain from giving expression to the pleasurable sensations which she experienced.

“Ah! see the little imp!” said the Countess. “It is hardly come into the world, and already it seeks pleasures like a grown up woman.”

“It is the other one's turn now, for it would be jealous if I did not kiss it too.” She took the other nipple which she sucked as she had done the first.

“Oh, Madame, what are you doing?” said Violette.

“Why, I caress you, sweet darling. Did you not see from the first day that I was in love with you?”

“Can one woman be in love with another?” asked Violette, with an innocent look that would have tempted a saint, and, a fortiori, the Countess.

“You little silly,” she replied. “That is the only good thing in the world.”

Then in a rage with her dress: “You nasty dress! How uncomfortable it is! I will take it off, shall I not?”

“Do as you please, Madame la Comtesse.”

“Do not call me so respectfully 'madame la comtesse',” she cried, tearing off her dress with such impetuosity that she made the buttons fly.

“But how shall I call you?”

“Call me Odette; that is my nom de guerre.”

And her only garment now being the cambric under-gown, she threw herself back on the lounging chair where Violette was reclining, buttoning up her dressing gown to protect herself from the attacks of the Countess.