"This is a very good place," said Cherubin, stopping at the entrance to the balcony.

But Darena, who had caught sight of the persons he was looking for in a box, answered:

"We shall be more comfortable in a box; besides, it's better form.

Come--let us go in here, for instance."

And Darena bade the box-opener admit them to the box in which he had recognized Poterne and Mademoiselle Chichette Chichemann.

One must have had Darena's keen sight to recognize those two individuals, and must have been certain that they were there, for they were perfectly disguised, especially Poterne, who was absolutely unrecognizable.

Darena's intimate friend had sacrificed the bristly hair that covered his head; he had been shaved, and so closely that he resembled a poodle returning from Pont Neuf. He wore on his nose green goggles, the sides of which were screened by silk of the same color; and he had stuffed something in his mouth, which transformed his hollow cheeks into chubby ones. The change was complete. The false Comte de Globeski was suitably attired in a blue frockcoat with frogs, b.u.t.toned to the chin, so that it almost made a cravat unnecessary.

Mademoiselle Chichette wore a silk dress of faded pink, a long cloak trimmed with fur, and a sort of little toque of green velvet, with silk ta.s.sels and bows of the same color, which fell over her left ear. Her costume was not new, but her plump face was prettier than ever under the velvet toque, and her astonishment at finding herself in such fine array gave an almost piquant expression to her eyes.

Darena grasped all this at a glance.

"That miserable Poterne bought everything at the Temple!" he muttered.

"However, the little one is very pretty, luckily, and if my young Cupid doesn't take fire, I shall begin to believe that there's something wrong in his make-up."

Poterne nudged Mademoiselle Chichette with his knee, calling her attention with his eyes to the young man who had seated himself behind her. The supposit.i.tious Pole turned, and after eying Cherubin, she murmured:

"He's very pretty--almost as pretty as my little pays!"

Cherubin, on his side, glanced at the lady in front of him, and whispered to Darena:

"Pray look at that pretty creature, my dear fellow!"

Darena put his head forward, pretended to be moved to admiration, and replied:

"Upon my word, I never saw anything so perfect! The freshness of the rose and the splendor of the lily! She's a pearl! At your age I would have stormed the moon to possess that woman."

Cherubin made no reply, but he paid much more attention to the young lady in the green cap than to the play that was being performed. For her part, Mademoiselle Chichette, faithful to her instructions, turned constantly to look at Cherubin. Her glances lasted so long sometimes that Poterne was compelled to pull her dress, and whisper:

"That's enough, you're going too far! Anyone would think that you did nothing else on the boulevards."

After some time Darena said to his young friend:

"It seems to me that you are making progress, and that your business with this rose-bud is in a fair way to end in a bargain."

"Why, it is true, she does look at me rather often. I don't know whether I ought to hope."

"You don't know! What in the devil more do you expect a woman to do at first sight than to return your glances--yes, and with big interest! You have made a conquest of her, that is evident.--Gad! what a lucky fellow you are! I have an idea that she's a foreigner; that man isn't a Frenchman; he must be her husband."

"Do you think so?"

"However, he has a very respectable look."

"Do you think so?"

"It seems to me that n.o.body can help seeing it."

During the entr'acte Monsieur Poterne did not fail to leave the box, alone; Darena followed him at once, saying to Cherubin:

"Here's an excellent opportunity to start a conversation. Go at it boldly."

"Do you think that I might?"

"I promise you that the lady wishes it too. You see it is hard to be more hideous than that man who was with her, and she would not be his wife if she did not deceive him."

Cherubin, when he was left alone with the charming person with whom he felt that he was very much in love, wondered how he should begin the conversation. Meanwhile she was making eyes at him in a fashion which invited him to speak, with an accompaniment of the most melting smiles.

The young man ventured at last.

"Is madame fond of the theatre?"

"Yes, _messie_."

"Does madame come often?"

"No, _messie_. But I used to go ever so much with my cuisine."[C]

[C] _Cuisine_ means 'kitchen' or 'cooking'. She intended to say _cousine_.

Cherubin opened his ears, trying to understand.

"My _cuisine_ liked the theatre ever so much."

"Ah! you are speaking of a _cousine_, no doubt?"

"Yes, yes, my _cuisine_."

"And this gentleman with you--is he your husband?"

"Yes; Comte Glo--Globe--Oh dear! I have forgot his name! I am stupid!"

"You are not French, madame?"

"Oh, no! I am from Alsa--No, no, I'm from some other place! I have forgot again; I am awful stupid!"

Mademoiselle Chichette said all this so comically, and rested her eyes on Cherubin so often, that the young man paid no heed to the incoherency of her speech, but became more and more enamored of the lovely stranger.

"Do you enjoy Paris, madame?"

"Oh yes! I enjoy it; but I am always thinking of my little pays!"

"Ah! you regret it?"

"Yes! I would like to see my little pays again!"

"You love your country--pays--that is perfectly natural."