“You are all topsy-turvy. What is the matter with you?”
I did not answer.
“Well, good night,” said Lilian.
“Good night, and adieu!” I angrily replied, turning on my heel and striding off to the station.
I was very vexed at the moment. But it soon wore off, as I could see through her so well. She was very coquettish and wicked, but shallow and superficial. Her great trick was to “work up” her man by all kinds of artifices and carefully watch the effect produced on him. If she found she had gone too far, she would come back with a kiss and a caress, until the next maneuver, and so on ad libitum, as long as the amorous male would stand it. Is this the way cunning courtesans wheedle money out of men? Do their votaries offer gold to induce the intriguing female to put an end to their torment? I suppose so. It simply disgusted me. I had no experience with wicked women. And I found out why. I had never stopped long enough with a thoroughly bad, scheming woman. When such a one would start her tricks, I saw through her, and was off and away. Why did I have so much patience with my black magpie, Lilian? I cannot tell. I was never her dupe long, if ever I was at all. I suppose I had felt a great lust for her ever since four years ago, and this would take a little while to get out of the system. But I was gradually sickening. She was always begging. I must have been mad up to then. I wanted to be loved for myself alone at the age of forty-seven. Perhaps I was like a woman and my change of life was acting on my brain? I had only been the half-lover of a quarter-virgin, so there was nothing much to regret. After all, it was better that she should have treated me badly for the last two or three months. A few words of tenderness, one leap of her heart, if she possessed one, towards mine, and I should have continued to live in the belief of her love for me.
You have nothing to complain of, Jacky, I soliloquised, you have had a year's amusement with this trifling intrigue. Twelve months illusion: is not that enormous in the ordinary sadness of life?
And so saying, I put out my lamp and settled to sleep.
LILIAN TO JACKY.
(No date or place.) Received January 12, 1899.
Dear naughty darling,
Here is what I wish to propose to you: if next Sunday you have nothing better to do, you can come here directly after lunch, under the pretext of asking me for one of the little dogs and you can choose it. We can then go and have a nice walk, both of us, or stay at home, as you choose, and you shall stop and have tea with your,
LILIAN.
JACKY TO LILIAN
Paris. January 12, 1899.
Little Lilian,
Your proposal is adorable, to pass a whole afternoon with you would be true happiness for me. And then I feel that I possess your thoughts and I see that you try to please me. I am very grateful.
Unfortunately, we do not live like characters in a novel and have to go through life in quite another way. We must show that we possess common sense and a practical spirit.
What would your parents say when they heard that I visited their house while they were absent and that I had passed several hours with you?
Reflect a little, and you will understand, I am sure, without wanting me to explain myself more fully.
If you desire more ample explanations on this subject, I am quite at your disposal, without any hidden thoughts, quite frankly, and in platonic fashion. To prove my good faith, I will take the nine o'clock train any evening you may point out, Friday, Saturday, or following days, no matter how the weather is, and I will only stop with you the necessary time to demonstrate to you the impossibility of your amiable project.
To sum up: visiting Mademoiselle alone with her Grandmother, in the absence of her parents, would be rude and incorrect, calculated to make them uneasy, and sufficing to close their house against me forever.
Don't be wicked, jealous, nor in a temper.
Yours always, even in spite of yourself,
JACKY.
LILIAN TO JACKY.
(No date or place.) Received January 13, 1899.
Having been brought up like an English girl, I am consequently more practical than romantic, and if I proposed to you to come here Sunday, under the pretext that I gave you, it is only after having carefully reflected on the consequences, and knowing all the ideas that my parents might form on that head. I was absolutely convinced of the solidity of my proposal.
You will not profit by my good intentions in your favor? Very well then-do as you like.
You cannot, however, prevent me from remarking that you are never free for me on a Sunday. You probably have to occupy yourself with your bicycle, as on Sunday last.
I am not wicked, nor jealous, nor out of temper. I only note simple facts.
(Unsigned.)
JACKY TO LILIAN.
Paris. Saturday, January 14, 1899.
Dear Lilian,
All last night and this morning I have reflected on the letter received yesterday evening. I can only repeat that I feel sincere gratitude for your good intention which delights me, but your starting-point is false. The more I think about it, the less I understand.
The aversion I have for the exchange of sour letters and which I have often expressed to you, grows stronger than ever, therefore I will be truly brief.
Since nearly three months, I suffer, I think, as much as a man can possibly suffer morally.
A new subject of discord now springs up between us.
This is atrocious!
JACKY.
She did not write, and I am ashamed to say that two days afterwards, I sent her the following letter:
JACKY TO LILIAN.
Paris. January 16, 1899.
My dear Lilian,
You are vexed with me because I think that I ought not to enter your father's house when he is away. Do you not understand that?
I think that if I saw you I should find arguments to convince you, for the last letter that you wrote proves that you are very intelligent.
I have an immense desire to see you. It is a great joy for me to be at your side.
That is why I hasten to send you these few lines to tell you that I shall come to Sonis to-morrow, Tuesday night, by the nine o'clock train, and I will stroll about until ten.
If you can't or won't see me, you need but send me a wire, as follows: “Do not come.”
I could have waited a few days before writing to you, but I do not wish you to believe me capable of sulking, or of watching to see who will come round first. Those are little, vulgar, stupid, mean artifices which are repugnant to me.
I love you and would like to see you to tell you so, and force you to say to me, your lips against mine, like the other night: “I love you, I love you, I love you!”
I come to you loyally, sincerely, and frankly, without beating about the bush; without chicanery; ready to answer all your objections and to plead my cause with you, without lying, showing myself to you as I am. So much the worse for me if you will no longer love me. I shall always love you, good or bad, dead or alive, even if I may be forced to think no more of you as a mistress.
At all hazards, I shall put the second volume of that little book for young people in my pocket. If you do not want it, you will return me the first volume and all will be at an end.
Do not fear that you will meet a silly, whining lover, groaning, and scolding. Tomorrow evening you will simply see your dirty Papa, and quickly you will offer him your pretty mouth, saying: “Good evening, Jacky!”
And we will begin to quarrel if you will.
But I want to see you.
JACKY.
A few months ago, I should have written, like the saucy wretch that I am: “Lilian, don't forget to tie on your little pink ribbon.” Now I no longer ask for anything.