was a long and rather narrow
apartment; at the end, a stage of rough planks, before a kind of
curtain, the whole rudely but not niggardly lighted. Unfortunately for
the Baroni family, Sidonia found himself the only first-class spectator.
There was a tolerable sprinkling of those who paid half a franc for
their amusement. These were separated from the first row, which Sidonia
alone was to occupy; in the extreme distance was a large space not
fitted up with benches, where the miscellaneous multitude, who could
summon up five sous apiece later in the evening, to see the Crucifixion,
were to be stowed.

'It hardly pays the lights,' said the pretty woman at the door. 'We have
not had good fortune in this town. It seems hard, when there is so much
for the money, and the children take such pains in going the rounds in
the morning.'

'And you are Madame Baroni?' said Sidonia.

'Yes; I am the mother,' she replied.

'I should have thought you had been their sister,' said Sidonia.

'My eldest son is fifteen! I often wish that he was anything else but
what he is, but we do not like to separate. We are all one family, sir,
and that makes us bear many things.'

'Well, I think I know a way to increase your audience,' said Sidonia.

'Indeed! I am sure it is very kind of you to say so much; we have not
met with a gentleman like you the whole time we have been here.'

Sidonia descended the stairs; the smoking amateurs made way for him
with great parade, and pushed back with equal unkindness the young and
wistful throng who still hovered round the portal.

'Don't you see the gentleman wants to go by? Get back, you boys!'

Sidonia halted on the doorway, and, taking advantage of a momentary
pause, said, 'All the little boys are to come in free.'

What a rush!

The performances commenced by the whole of the Baroni family appearing
in a row, and bowing to the audience. The father was now dressed in
a Greek costume, which exhibited to perfection his compact frame: he
looked like the captain of a band of Palikari; on his left appeared the
mother, who, having thrown off her cloak, seemed a sylph or a sultana,
for her bonnet had been succeeded by a turban. The three girls were
on her left hand, and on the right of her husband were their three
brothers. The eldest son, Francis, resembled his father, or rather was
what his father must have been in all the freshness of boyhood; the
same form of blended strength and symmetry; the same