To Tell You The Truth | by Leonard Merrick

This is a collection of fictional short stories.

Title	To Tell You The Truth
Author	Leonard Merrick
Publisher	Hodder & Stoughton Limited
Year	1922
Copyright	1922, Leonard Merrick
Amazon	To Tell You The Truth

To Tell You The Truth

Hodder & Stoughton Limited

I. Mademoiselle Ma Mere: She was born in Chauville-le-Vieux. Her mother gave piano lessons at the local Lycée de Jeunes Filles, and her father had been professeur de violon at the little Conservatoire. Music was her desti...

Mademoiselle Ma Mere. Part 2: How you must miss him! How old is he? Only eleven weeks. Miss him ? Mon Dieu ! But I had to leave him, or we should both have starved; if I had brought him with me, who would have looked after...

Mademoiselle Ma Mere. Part 3: The question persisted, as she tramped the streets despondently—as daily she drew nearer to defeat. She had discontinued to hire a piano. Everywhere she was humbled with the same reply, banished with ...

Mademoiselle Ma Mere. Part 4: At last, when she realised that she had wrecked her peace of mind for nothing, when to cross the bridge was to eye the river longingly, she knew that she wasn't free to find oblivion like that. Restit...

Mademoiselle Ma Mere. Part 5: Where is she now, this madame Gaillard ? inquired the Directrice coldly. I do not know, said Marie. And then, recognising the lameness of the reply, she burst forth into a torrent of details...

Mademoiselle Ma Mere. Part 6: After that, he called her always Mademoiselle ma mère; and, divining something of the little wistful heart, mademoiselle did not reprove him. At Ivry-St.-Hilaire a thing strange and bewildering ...

Mademoiselle Ma Mere. Part 7: As the months wore by, and term succeeded term, the boy evoked an interest in the loneliness. Duty no longer took her to him—it was affection; to amuse him now was not a task—their playtime had become...

Mademoiselle Ma Mere. Part 8: She had to save him. When her mind cleared, she thought only of that. Since it was impossible to plead to Paul, she must plead to the woman. She would find out where she lived; she would say- In imagi...

II. Aribaud's Two Wives: In the Bois, one day, I met madame Aribaud. By madame Aribaud I mean the wife of a very popular dramatist, and I call them Aribaud because it wouldn't do to mention their real name. I like meeting...

Aribaud's Two Wives. Part 2: Quite five minutes more lagged by before I got my watch, and when I crossed the courtyard I had no expectation of seeing her again; but no sooner had I passed through the gate than I discovered her ...

Aribaud's Two Wives. Part 3: She called up to us now : Are we a nuisance, messieurs? Shall we go to the nursery? No, no, cried Aribaud, starting, not at all ; we are doing nothing. Continue, mon ange, continue ! ...

Aribaud's Two Wives. Part 4: ' Ah,' she said, ' you make up your mind in advance that I have no dramatic instinct? ' I said : 1 It is not even a question whether you have any dramatic instinct; it is enough that you haven'...

III. That Villain Her Father: Henri Vauquelin was a widower with one daughter, to whom he had denied nothing from the time she used to whimper for his watch and drop it on the floor. So, after she left the convent where she had be...

That Villain Her Father. Continued: Oh, you are—priceless ! she pealed. Vauquelin reflected, She has three sterling qualities, this girl—she is pretty, she is nice, and she looks at me as if I were a young man. During the n...

IV. The Statue: In the Square d'lena, which teems with little Parisians in charge of English nurses, Vera Simpson wheeled the baby-carriage to a bench on fine mornings, and exchanged patriotic sentiments with her com...

The Statue. Part 2: Yes, he assented. He stole a timid glance at her, and looked quickly away. Oh yes. Who was it who gave you my address at last, monsieur? I do not know, he said awkwardly. It was a...

The Statue. Part 3: It is Beauvais' masterpiece, said Gaby; they all say it is the finest thing he has done. It is a masterpiece, yes. But I was not thinking of the sculptor and his art any more—I was thinking...

V. The Celebrity At Home: Before boarding-houses in London were all called Hotels and while snobbery had advanced no further than to call them Establishments, there was one in a London square where two of the visitors —whic...

The Celebrity At Home. Part 2: By way of thanks for the book, he scribbled a friendly letter, in which there was no endearment, definite or indefinite, to object to. It implied that her choice had been a wise one, and he congratula...

The Celebrity At Home. Part 3: So—er- Well, how does London look to you after such a long time ? Are you home for good ? No, about a couple of months. My home is on the other side now. Well, this is a real pleasure ! I nev...

VI. Picq Plays The Hero: When he had made his choice of a career, when in spite of remonstrances he had become an actor, his father had felt disgraced. His father was the hatter in the rue de la Paroisse. The shop was not pro...

Picq Plays The Hero. Part 2: And Jean fought for France still, and already it seemed to them that the war was eternal. Twice —on two anniversaries since that terrible Saturday —they had raised trembling glasses to a photograph on...

Picq Plays The Hero. Part 3: And his charge—how much? panted Nanette, who feared that such celerity might cost more still. When the specialist had been, on the morrow— when Picq had closed the street door after him, and st...

Picq Plays The Hero. Part 4: You don't think it might be best to break it to her now? someone suggested. He shook his head impatiently, the throbbing head from which the jeune premier's curls were not removed yet. It ...

VII. A Flat To Spare: At the corner of the rue Baba stands the Maison Severin, with its board announcing furnished flats to let. One December evening a journalist went to call upon a colleague there. As he climbed the last...

A Flat To Spare. Part 2: A couple of hours later, Pariset, after struggling with a fire that refused to be lit, and breakfasting without any coffee, and dressing his twins with some of their underlinen back in front, gave the...

A Flat To Spare. Part 3: Next, please, said the fat woman, shrugging her shoulders. Madame, began Suzanne, vehemently, I must ask you to find another femme-de-menage for me immediately, if you please—your Angélique...

A Flat To Spare. Part 4: Monsieur, returned Suzanne, you dizzy me with your neighbourly kindness. If you can turn round without risking your neck, however, you will note that Marceline is absent. She is engaged in improv...

VIII. A Portrait Of A Coward: Every Sunday Mrs. Findon went with her two stepdaughters to the cemetery and put flowers on the grave. Every Sunday since her husband's death she had done so—every Sunday for four years, excepting dur...

A Portrait Of A Coward. Part 2: And then, one summer, after Mildred had influenza, the doctor recommended Harrogate, instead of the dismal village—and the possibility of Harrogate yielding husbands to the girls quickened the woman's...

A Portrait Of A Coward. Part 3: Both. But—good heavens ! . . . Besides, there's this aunt they've gone to—they could live with her. You aren't telling me—you can't mean you won't marry me because you imagine it's your duty t...

A Portrait Of A Coward. Part 4: It should be directly they arrived, though! She vowed it. She had watched tremulously till nearly three o'clock, when a cab rumbled to the house at last; and her heart turned sicker still as she sa...

IX. The Boom: At this time of day I do not mind publishing the facts. It happened a few weeks after those pillars of the State—Thibaudin and Hazard—disappeared from Paris with a couple of million francs. They were ...

The Boom. Part 2: Further, everybody will say what a conscientious artist you are; I don't mind asserting that your passion for accuracy is sweeping me to the Minotaur's lair against my will. Well, I will think...

The Boom. Part 3: Grabbing at my coppers, I hurried out, wondering what I had better do if he addressed me. Before I had time to solve the question I heard him striding at my heels. With a deprecating bow that told me ...

The Boom. Part 4: He did not look assured, however; he stood silent, and his lips were trembling. Heaven knows what solid help my amiabihty had led him to expect, but it was plain that honeyed phrases were a meagre sub...

X. Pilar Naranjo: In one of the dullest towns of France, I sat with a Parisian at a variety show. A Frenchman, with a very grubby shirt-front, presented to the audience Señorita Pilar Naranjo, the famous dancer of...

XI. The Girl Who Was Tired Of Love: At the Opera Ball, a boy had danced half the night with a partner whose youthful tones were so delicious, whose tenderness was so attractive, that he implored her a hundred times to unmask. If I do,...

The Girl Who Was Tired Of Love. Part 2: The incident did not fade from her mind. She thought of it in the night, and on the morrow, and when she took the sapphire and the snapped chain to her jeweller's. If the nonsense the poor creature ta...

The Girl Who Was Tired Of Love. Part 3: Her income was derived chiefly from Municipal Bonds and Metro shares. At the bank she had also a substantial sum on deposit. She told monsieur Septfous that she had decided to spend the rest of her li...

The Girl Who Was Tired Of Love. Part 4: When the summer came and she went to the coast, with a score of wonderful dresses, she sighed for companionship more drearily yet. Hitherto, at such places, she had sat among her compeers, amiably cha...

The Girl Who Was Tired Of Love. Part 5: At last, towards the close of February, she had the unspeakable relief of learning that madame Verne and her son had gone to Monaco, and once again she was able to step into her car with a sense of sa...

XII. In The Year Of Our Lord 1918: Dear Nelly, I was in the theatre last night, just to have a look at you again, and I saw you when you came out of the stage door. Saw the toff and the taxi waiting to take you to supper. Wonder if ...

XIII. A Pot Of Pansies: This afternoon it chanced that three men, who used to be firm friends, were all sitting in the Cafe de la Paix at the same time. They pretended not to notice one another. And to-night my thoughts keep...

A Pot Of Pansies. Part 2: Mais oui, goose. He sleeps in there, said Blanche. The shares had slipped thy mind ? Ah, but listen, thou dwellest overmuch on thy work—in the end thou wilt have a breakdown. But no, but no...

A Pot Of Pansies. Part 3: We meant to honour you with a visit now, I said. As it is, we will go on and see Elise. Come back and see her too. Elise has gone to a matinee, said Henri. You shall take a little ta-ta ...

A Pot Of Pansies. Part 4: The three questions that besiege one, monsieur, burst forth Jacques—and I shuddered—'* are, who, biding amid decay, has the imperishable sensibility to tend a pot of pansies ? Of what does it speak...

A Pot Of Pansies. Part 5: I did not see anything about it soon enough ! he raged. Henri had told me to leave it all to him. And not a word have I had from him. Even if I had applied, I should not have got them. What m...

A Pot Of Pansies. Part 6: As will be readily understood, I had no ambition to assist at her next conversation with Henri, and I did not intend to enter the house. Unluckily, when the cab stopped, he was on the veranda, and he ...

XIV. Floromond And Frisonnette: Floromond and Frisonnette, who were giddy with a sense of wealth when they acquired three rooms, and had flowers growing on their own balcony, and sat upon chairs that they had actually bought and pai...

Floromond And Frisonnette. Part 2: Floromond and Frisonnette, like foreigners more fashionable, spent their honeymoon in Paris, for, of course, Frisonnette had to keep on selling Aureole's hats. Home was reached by a narrow staircas...

Floromond And Frisonnette. Part 3: What a swell you are nowadays ! the poor boy would say, forcing a smile. And Frisonnette would scoff. A swell ? This rag ! as she recalled with longing the gorgeous toilettes that graced her...

Floromond And Frisonnette. Part 4: Deep in her consciousness had lurked this thought too, and she turned from him in guilty silence. You are fond of me, then, she muttered at last, in spite of all ? If I am fond of you ! ...

Floromond And Frisonnette. Part 5: Nevertheless, as he leant listening, his face was blanched. The steps drew nearer. I know, of course, they go to the room on the other side; a moment more, and they will pass, he told himself...

The Works Of Leonard Merrick: TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH. WHILE PARIS LAUGHED. Being Pranks and Passions of the Poet Tricotrin. CONRAD IN QUEST OF HIS YOUTH. With an Introduction by SIR J. M. BARRIE. WHEN LOVE FLIES OUT O' THE...