Heaven Can Wait Page #2

Um, and here a rfrence

from the duc de Polignac.

He considers the two years

I spent in his house...

the two most happy years of his life.

Oh, it sounds just like a duke.

Um, what about your wages?

Uh, maybe in beginning $20 a month

would give satisfaction?

Twenty dollars a month!

You see, I've never gone higher

than $14 a month for a personal maid.

If I could only justify the difference.

Let me see.

- Oh, Mother?

- Come here, dear.

- Mademoiselle, this is my little boy.

- Bonjour, mon petit.

- Hello.

- He studies French.

Oh, mademoiselle, you must ask him

something in French. But not too difficult.

Oui. Avez-vous bien travaill

aujourd'hui, mon chri?

Huh?

That's what I was afraid of.

Now be a nice boy and go. I have an idea

that I want to discuss with Mademoiselle.

A brilliant child,

but a little backward in his French.

- And it just occurred to me that -

- Oh, madame.

It will be pleasure talk only French

to little fellow.

My whole vocabulaire

I make present to your baby.

With me in house, in one month I assure

Madame will not recognize own son.

And only for $20.

Of course, that's six dollars more

than I ever paid before.

- But let's try it.

- Merci, madame.

- Au revoir, madame.

- Good-bye, mademoiselle.

Psst.! Hey.

Oui?

You're not gonna work here.

I'll see to that.

What is the matter?

Did I make little boy angry?

Now see here. That's the last time

anybody's gonna call me "little boy. "

Oh, so sorry if I hurt feelings,

but maman-

Yes. Mama.

That's the trouble.

Mama and Papa.

And Grandpapa and Grandmama.

It's a conspiracy

to keep me in short pants.

They think they own me,

body and soul.

Ah, je comprends. My understanding

for young man is perfect.

Your soul is bigger than your pants.

Oh, you need very warm friend

with sympathy.

Moi. I will be. Oui?

I bet you couldn't guess in a million years

what I have in my pocket.

No, I do not know, but I am sure it is

something very bad, oui?

- Here.

- Oh, you smoke big black cigar?

Sure, I'm gonna smoke it -

any day now.

Now we have

very bad secret together, oui?

That's nothing.

I can tell you things that would rock

Fifth Avenue to its foundations.

Oh?

- I'm going to get married.

- You, married?

Mmm.

I have to, darn it.

Oh, this is much worse than cigar.

When did disaster take place?

Oh, it all happened pretty suddenly.

There's a girl around the corner.

Well, you know.

But I do not know.

Tell me.

Well, we were walking in the park,

and it started to rain.

- Oui?

- We climbed into a policeman's shed.

- And the policeman?

- He wasn't there.

Well, anyhow,

before I knew it, I lost my head.

I don't know what got into me.

- I took her into my arms and then -

- And then?

I kissed her.

I may just as well

face the consequences.

Excuse my asking question.

This might sound very childish

to grown-up young man...

but did you ever consider idea

not marrying girl?

It's out of the question.

It would destroy me socially.

I could never go to Harvard.

Why, when my father kissed my mother...

she knew what he meant,

and he knew she knew it.

coute, mon chri.

In your papa's time,

papa kiss mama and then marry.

But this is 1887.

Time of bicycle. The typewriter has arriv.

Soon everybody speak over the telephone.

And people have

new idea of value of kiss.

What was bad yesterday

is lot of fun today.

There is a wonderful saying in France.

"Les baisers sont comme des bonbons...

qu'on mange parce qu'ils sont bons. "

This mean kiss is like candy.

You eat candy

only for the beautiful taste...

and this is enough reason

to eat candy.

Y- You mean I can kiss a girl once -

Ten times, 20 times.

And no obligation.

Listen, are you telling me the truth

or just trying to keep your job?

I'll swear by the extra six dollar

I get from Madame.

Gosh. This is a wonderful age

I'm living in.

Oui. So you do not

have to worry about little girl.

Oh, I've forgotten about her already.

I guess I'm pretty blas.

- Listen, Frenchy.

- What is it, my friend?

If that's the way things are in 1887...

what do you think's gonna

happen in 1888?

Aha. We make that the subject

of our first French lesson.

Au revoir, monsieur.

- Mother.

- Yes, my baby.

That girl is worth the extra six dollars.

The pride

of all the Van Cleves was my cousin Albert.

He was the fulfiillment of a parent's dream.

Always the highest in his class.

Never had he thrown a stone into a window.

Nor did he ever put a mouse

in his teacher's bustle.

His ears were always clean.

This, I think, will give you

a rough idea of Albert.

And I'll never forget

the morning of my 15th birthday.

The presents were waiting for me

in the living room.

But suddenly Father came running

down the stairs, excited and breathless.

Flogdell! Flogdell!

Yes, Mr. Van Cleve.

Tell Robinson to go immediately

and get Dr. Macintosh.

- Tell him our little Henry is ill.

- Yes, sir.

Oh, my poor baby.

The boy's acting so strangely, Randolph.

Randolph.

Now, Bertha, Bertha.

We must keep a stiff upper lip.

Randolph, he's talking all the time

as if he were in a delirium.

- What does the boy seem to be saying?

- Well, if I only knew, Randolph.

- He's talking French. Nothing but French.

- French?

Oh, Randolph.

Our boy, delirious in a foreign language.

Now, Bertha, Bertha. This is an emergency.

We must do everything step-by-step.

The next move is to find out what the boy is saying.

Uh - Uh, Flogdell.

- Yes, sir.

- Tell Mademoiselle to come to Master Henry's room immediately.

Very good, sir.

If only Grandpa would let me rub

just a bit of garlic on his little chest.

Stay away from that boy with your garlic.

The boy's sick enough.

Randolph, did you hear that?

Did you hear that, Grandpa?

I'm not deaf.

The child's poisoned.

That's what it is.

Oh, Randolph. What shall we do?

Oh, what shall we do?

Now, now. There's only one thing

to do, Bertha - keep a stiff upper lip.

But that won't help

that poor poisoned boy.

If I had my way,

I know what I'd do.

A big glass of cold water right in that boy's face,

and I think he'd start talking English.

- Hugo, you barbarian.

- Oh, no! Please, please!

- You'll give him pneumonia.

- You mustn't do that.

- Please, you mustn't -

- He might -

- Oh, Mademoiselle.

- Did Madame send for me?

Yes, Mademoiselle.

Our little Henry.

- He's sick?

- Yes, Mademoiselle.

Oh. Excuse, Madame.

I'll be right back.

- Oui, Madame?

- Mademoiselle, he's asking for something in French.

- You must help us find out what he wants.

- Oui, Madame.

- Look. He's smiling.

- He's far, far away.

- Why, he seems to be in another world.

- He's looking at Mademoiselle.

- I wonder what he sees.

- Yes. I wonder.

Oh, je suis si malade.

Mon estomac me fait si mal.

- Is he clear?

- Does it make any sense?

Oh, his French is absolutely perfect.

Such beautiful grammar.

Mademoiselle, at the moment we're not concerned

with the young man's linguistic accomplishments.

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