"Yes, but the last time I couldn't speak at all."

"Ah! here is the baroness, messieurs, the famous Baroness de--de--what's her name?"

"De Grangeville.--What a beautiful dress!"

"What style! that woman must have been extremely pretty once."

"Ah! here is my friend Jericourt, the literary man, with Monsieur Alfred de Saint-Arthur."

Astianax ran to meet his friend, who was already looking about with a mocking air at the gardens and at the people whom he saw in them.

"Good-evening, my dear neighbor; it is very kind of you to have remembered my invitation."

"I should have been very sorry not to accept it, my dear Astianax; I am told that there is always much entertainment at your house, and that the supper is always excellent.--By the way, allow me to introduce my friend, Monsieur de Saint-Arthur."

"Highly flattered, monsieur; I have had the honor of seeing you with monsieur."

"True, we met on the boulevard."

"At the booth of a pretty flower girl."

"Yes, I am not ashamed to say that I am one of her admirers."

"I was, but she has fallen infernally in my esteem, since that day--you remember the occasion, Monsieur Jericourt?"

"Oh! very well, indeed; but after all, why should that make any difference to you? The flower girl is none the less pretty."

"Of course not! But, you see, I thought that she was innocence personified."

"Oh! oh!" cried the dandified Saint-Arthur, trying to stuff the head of his cane into his nose, "the idea of a flower girl being a model of virtue! That would be the eighth wonder of the world.--But where is your theatre, monsieur?"

"You will see it in a moment.--But I see my mother and sister; I will introduce you, messieurs."

"That long bean-pole is his sister," whispered Saint-Arthur in Jericourt's ear.

"Yes, my dear fellow, and I don't advise you to give her your arm, you would look like her doll!"

"Never fear, I haven't any desire to do it. What a pity that Zizi isn't with us! I see that there will be plenty to laugh at here. How she would enjoy it! I fancy that we shall find their comedy decidedly ridiculous!

But what are they going to do with all the chairs they are taking out of the garden? Are they moving?"

"Those are the seats being taken to the theatre," said Madame Glumeau, graciously saluting the two gentlemen, who, although they had just arrived, were already busily engaged in making sport of whatever they saw; "seats for the spectators, I mean. It would be very kind of you, messieurs, to help a little, to take a few chairs into the wood."

"What an astonishing woman!" murmured the dandified Saint-Arthur, turning to Jericourt; "as if we came here to carry chairs!"

"Come, come, Alfred, be decent, or I won't take you into the country again. Look about; there are some very pretty women here, and I sacrifice myself,--I am going to carry some chairs."

The garden began to fill with guests, some from Paris, others who lived in the neighborhood. The darkness was coming on, and the semi-obscurity added to the charm of the occasion. Some ladies, by chance or by design, had wandered away from their husbands, whom they were careful not to find again; but gallant cavaliers zealously offered their arms, to a.s.sist them in their search.

Chambourdin did not fail to take advantage of the opportunity to approach Madame Boutillon; the pretty little brunette had lost no time in losing her husband very soon after her arrival, and the bald young man hastened to offer her his arm, saying:

"You are looking for monsieur your husband? accept my arm, madame, and I'll guide you; I know the house."

"Oh! I am not looking for my husband at all, monsieur," replied the little lady, laughing; "I am not afraid that he will get lost."

"Ah! that makes a difference; pray come into the woods, madame; I will take you to the theatre and find you a seat."

"With pleasure, monsieur."

At that moment, Madame Glumeau walked toward the gate with a large number of ladies, exclaiming:

"Come to the woods, messieurs, everybody to the theatre; we must take seats, for it will begin very soon."

The company followed Madame Glumeau to the enclosure facing the stage.

All the seats were very soon occupied, but most of the men took their places behind, and leaned against the trees. The creaking of the trellis work which enclosed the auditorium indicated that there was also an audience outside, which proposed to enjoy the spectacle although uninvited.

The male actors dressed in the billiard room, the ladies in the house.

As they were about to begin, they discovered that various indispensable accessories were lacking; thereupon there was much running from the theatre to the house, and from the house to the theatre; one saw nothing but people hurrying back and forth, shouting:

"The basket! we must have a basket!"

"And the letter for Monsieur Astianax!"

"And a table! we must have a table, and a cloth on it!"

"We want a stove,--where's the stove?"

"There isn't one; take an empty cask, that will represent a stove well enough!"

"We must have a pie! there's a supper in the play."

"Take an empty flower pot, that will do very well for the pie."

"We want a bottle of champagne."

"There's a bottle of Seltzer behind the first wing; that will pop like champagne."

All these incidents delayed the rising of the curtain; but the audience did not grumble, they laughed and found amus.e.m.e.nt in all that they saw.

At last an amateur musician armed with a violin, and another carrying a clarinet in his arms like a baby, took their seats in front of the stage.

As for the prompter, there being no hole under the stage for him, he stood behind the drop curtain.

"This theatre in the midst of a forest is really very pretty!" said Madame de Grangeville, who was seated beside Madame Glumeau.

"Oh! you will see how pretty it is, madame la baronne, when the curtain rises; we have some lovely scenery: a Pompadour salon, painted by Monsieur Devoir; it is perfectly lovely."

"What plays are they going to give us?"

"They begin with _il et Nez_, a little farce acted by Madame Dufournelle, my son and Monsieur Mangeot.--But it is very strange,--look about as I will, I don't see Madame Boutillon; and yet I am very sure that she came with her husband."