Fromont and Risler, vol 3 | Page 8

and piano:
"Pauv' pitit Mam'zelle Zizi, C'est l'amou, l'amou qui tourne la tete a li."
["Poor little Mam'zelle Zizi, 'Tis love, 'tis love that turns her head."]
And as she told the story of the ill-fated little Zizi, who was driven mad
by passion, Sidonie had the appearance of a love-sick woman. With
what heartrending expression, with the cry of a wounded dove, did she
repeat that refrain, so melancholy and so sweet, in the childlike patois
of the colonies:
"C'est l'amou, l'amou qui tourne la tete...."
It was enough to drive the unlucky judge mad as well.
But no! The siren had been unfortunate in her choice of a ballad. For, at
the mere name of Mam'zelle Zizi, Frantz was suddenly transported to a
gloomy chamber in the Marais, a long way from Sidonie's salon, and
his compassionate heart evoked the image of little Desiree Delobelle,
who had loved him so long. Until she was fifteen, she never had been
called anything but Ziree or Zizi, and she was the pauv' pitit of the
Creole ballad to the life, the ever-neglected, ever-faithful lover. In vain
now did the other sing. Frantz no longer heard her or saw her. He was
in that poor room, beside the great armchair, on the little low chair on
which he had sat so often awaiting the father's return. Yes, there, and
there only, was his salvation. He must take refuge in that child's love,
throw himself at her feet, say to her, "Take me, save me!" And who
knows? She loved him so dearly. Perhaps she would save him, would
cure him of his guilty passion.
"Where are you going?" asked Risler, seeing that his brother rose
hurriedly as soon as the last flourish was at an end.

"I am going back. It is late."
"What? You are not going to sleep here? Why your room is ready for
you."
"It is all ready," added Sidonie, with a meaning glance.
He refused resolutely. His presence in Paris was necessary for the
fulfilment of certain very important commissions intrusted to him by
the Company. They continued their efforts to detain him when he was
in the vestibule, when he was crossing the garden in the moonlight and
running to the station, amid all the divers noises of Asnieres.
When he had gone, Risler went up to his room, leaving Sidonie and
Madame Dobson at the windows of the salon. The music from the
neighboring Casino reached their ears, with the "Yo-ho!" of the
boatmen and the footsteps of the dancers like a rhythmical, muffled
drumming on the tambourine.
"There's a kill-joy for you!" observed Madame Dobson.
"Oh, I have checkmated him," replied Sidonie; "only I must be careful.
I shall be closely watched now. He is so jealous. I am going to write to
Cazaboni not to come again for some time, and you must tell Georges
to-morrow morning to go to Savigny for a fortnight."

CHAPTER XV
POOR LITTLE MAM'ZELLE ZIZI
Oh, how happy Desiree was!
Frantz came every day and sat at her feet on the little low chair, as in
the good old days, and he no longer came to talk of Sidonie.
As soon as she began to work in the morning, she would see the door
open softly. "Good morning, Mam'zelle Zizi." He always called her

now by the name she had borne as a child; and if you could know how
prettily he said it: "Good morning, Mam'zelle Zizi."
In the evening they waited for "the father" together, and while she
worked he made her shudder with the story of his adventures.
"What is the matter with you? You're not the same as you used to be,"
Mamma Delobelle would say, surprised to see her in such high spirits
and above all so active. For instead of remaining always buried in her
easy- chair, with the self-renunciation of a young grandmother, the
little creature was continually jumping up and running to the window
as lightly as if she were putting out wings; and she practised standing
erect, asking her mother in a whisper:
"Do you notice IT when I am not walking?"
From her graceful little head, upon which she had previously
concentrated all her energies in the arrangement of her hair, her
coquetry extended over her whole person, as did her fine, waving
tresses when she unloosed them. Yes, she was very, very coquettish
now; and everybody noticed it. Even the "birds and insects for
ornament" assumed a knowing little air.
Ah, yes! Desiree Delobelle was happy. For some days M. Frantz had
been talking of their all going into the country together; and as the
father, kind and generous as always, graciously consented to allow the
ladies to take a day's rest, all four set out one