ns for amusement out of doors. Gerfaut soon noticed a
rather animated conversation taking place between Madame de Bergenheim,
who was somewhat embarrassed as to how to amuse her guests for the
remainder of the afternoon, and Marillac, who, with his accustomed
enthusiasm, had constituted himself master of ceremonies. A moment
later, the drawing-room door opened, and servants appeared bending
under the burden of an enormous grand piano which was placed between
the windows. At this sight, a tremor of delight ran through the group
of young girls, while Octave, who was standing in one corner near the
mantel, finished his Mocha with a still more melancholy air.

"Now, then!" said Marillac, who had been extremely busy during these
preparations, and had spread a dozen musical scores upon the top of the
piano, "it is agreed that we shall sing the duet from Mose. There are
two or three little boarding-school misses here whose mothers are dying
for them to show off. You understand that we must sacrifice ourselves to
encourage them. Besides, a duet for male voices is the thing to open a
concert with."

"A concert! has Madame de Bergenheim arranged to pasture us in this
sheepfold in order to make use of us this evening?" replied Gerfaut,
whose ill-humor increased every moment.

"Five or six pieces only, afterward they will have a dance. I have an
engagement with your diva; if you wish for a quadrille and have not
yet secured your number, I should advise you to ask her for it now, for
there are five or six dandies who seem to be terribly attentive to her.
After our duet I shall sing the trio from La Date Blanche, with those
young ladies who have eyes as round as a fish's, and apricot-colored
gowns on--those two over there in the corner, near that pretty blonde
who sat beside you at table and ogled you all the time. She had already
bored me to death! I do not know whether I shall be able to hit my low
'G' right or not. I have a cataclysm of charlotte-russe in my stomach.
Just listen:

'A cette complaisance!--'"

Marillac leaned toward his friend and roared in his ear the note
supposed to be the "G" in question.

"Like an ophicleide," said Gerfaut, who could not help laughing at the
importance the artist attached to his display of talent.

"In that case I shall risk my great run at the end of the first solo.
Two octaves from 'E' to 'E'! Zuchelli was good enough to give me a few
points as to the time, and I do it rathe