hes. You know, they are tin
tubes with spirits of wine which blazes up. It will be, perhaps, the
prettiest tableau of the evening. It is an indirect compliment we wish
to pay to the Cardinal's nephew; you know the dark young man with very
curly hair and saintly eyes; you saw him last Monday. He is in high
favor at court. The Comte de Geloni was kind enough to promise to
come this evening, and then Monsieur de Saint P. had the idea of this
tableau. His imagination is boundless, Monsieur de Saint P., not to
mention his good taste, if he would not break his properties."

"Is he not also a Chevalier of the Order of Saint Gregory?"

"Yes, and, between ourselves, I think that he would not be sorry to
become an officer in it."

"Ah! I understand, 'The Lights of Faith driving out,' et cetera. But
tell me, aunt, am I not brushing you too hard? Lift up your arm a
little, please. Tell me who has undertaken the part of Unbelief?"

"Don't speak of it, it is quite a history. As it happened, the casting
of the parts took place the very evening on which his Holiness's
Encyclical was published, so that the gentlemen were somewhat excited.
Monsieur de Saint P. took high ground, really very high ground; indeed,
I thought for a moment that the General was going to flare out. In
short, no one would have anything to do with Unbelief, and we had to
have recourse to the General's coachman, John--you know him? He is a
good-looking fellow; he is a Protestant, moreover, so that the part is
not a novel one to him."

"No matter, it will be disagreeable for the De N.'s to appear side by
side with a servant."

"Come! such scruples must not be carried too far; he is smeared over
with black and lies stretched on his face, while the three ladies
trample on him, so you see that social proprieties are observed after
all. Come, have you done yet? My hair is rather a success, is it not?
Silvani is the only man who understands how to powder one. He wanted
to dye it red, but I prefer to wait till red hair has found its way a
little more into society."

"There; it is finished, aunt. Is it long before you have to go on?"

"No. Good Heavens, it is close on eleven o'clock! The thought of
appearing before all these people--don't the flowers drooping from my
head make my neck appear rather awkward, Ernest? Will you push them up a
little?"

Then going to the door of the dressing-room she tapped at it gently,
saying, "Are you ready, Monsieur de V.?"

"Ye