tiny in those little
fairy-like hands, newly gloved for the occasion, which would boldly give
the signal for applause when it was time.

"Clear the stage!" Maranne has barely time to rush into the wings; and
suddenly he hears, far, very far away, the first words of his play,
rising, like a flock of frightened birds, in the silence and immensity
of the theatre. A terrible moment! Where should he go? What would become
of him? Should he remain there leaning against a post, with ears
strained and a feeling of tightness at his heart; to encourage the
actors when he was so in need of encouragement himself? He prefers to
confront the danger face to face, and he glides through a little door
into the lobby outside the boxes and stops at a box on the first tier
which he opens softly.--"Sh!--it's I." Some one is sitting in the
shadow, a woman whom all Paris knows, and who keeps out of sight. Andre
takes his place beside her, and sitting side by side, invisible to all,
the mother and son, trembling with excitement, watch the performance.

The audience was dumbfounded at first. The Theatre des Nouveautes,
situated at the heart of the boulevard, where its main entrance was a
blaze of light, among the fashionable restaurants and select clubs,--a
theatre to which small parties used to adjourn after a choice dinner to
hear an act or two of something racy, had become in the hands of its
clever manager the most popular of all Parisian play-houses, with no
well-defined speciality but providing a little of all sorts, from the
spectacular fairy-play which exhibits the women in scant attire, to the
great modern drama which does the same for our morals. Cardailhac was
especially bent upon justifying his title of "manager of the
Nouveautes,"[9] and since the Nabob's millions had been behind the
undertaking, he had striven to give the frequenters of the boulevard
some dazzling surprises. That of this evening surpassed them all: the
play was in verse--and virtuous.

FOOTNOTES:

[9] Novelties.

A virtuous play!

The old monkey had realized that the time had come to try that _coup_,
and he tried it. After the first moments of amazement, and a few
melancholy ejaculations here and there in the boxes: "Listen! it's in
verse!" the audience began to feel the charm of that elevating, healthy
work, as if someone had shaken over it, in that rarefied atmosphere,
some cool essence, pleasant to inhale, an elixir of life perfumed with
the wild thym