though we are as careful of him as of the
apple of our eyes. And, at the same time, I came to say that you must
not count on M. Schmucke, worthy man, for he is going to sit up with
him at night. One cannot help doing as if there was hope still left,
and trying one's best to snatch the dear, good soul from death. But
the doctor has given him up----"
"What is the matter with him?"
"He is dying of grief, jaundice, and liver complaint, with a lot of
family affairs to complicate matters."
"And a doctor as well," said Gaudissart. "He ought to have had Lebrun,
our doctor; it would have cost him nothing."
"M. Pons' doctor is a Providence on earth. But what can a doctor do,
no matter how clever he is, with such complications?"
"I wanted the good pair of nutcrackers badly for the accompaniment of
my new fairy piece."
"Is there anything that I can do for them?" asked La Cibot, and her
expression would have done credit to a Jocrisse.
Gaudissart burst out laughing.
"I am their housekeeper, sir, and do many things for my gentlemen--"
She did not finish her speech, for in the middle of Gaudissart's roar
of laughter a woman's voice exclaimed, "If you are laughing, old man,
one may come in," and the leading lady of the ballet rushed into the
room and flung herself upon the only sofa. The newcomer was Heloise
Brisetout, with a splendid _algerienne_, such as scarves used to be
called, about her shoulders.
"Who is amusing you? Is it this lady? What post does she want?" asked
this nymph, giving the manager such a glance as artist gives artist, a
glance that would make a subject for a picture.
Heloise, a young woman of exceedingly literary tastes, was on intimate
terms with great and famous artists in Bohemia. Elegant, accomplished,
and graceful, she was more intelligent than dancers usually are. As
she put her question, she sniffed at a scent-bottle full of some
aromatic perfume.
"One fine woman is as good as another, madame; and if I don't sniff
the pestilence out of a scent-bottle, nor daub brickdust on my
cheeks--"
"That would be a sinful waste, child, when Nature put it on for you to
begin with," said Heloise, with a side glance at her manager.
"I am an honest woman--"
"So much the worse for you. It is not every one by a long chalk that
can find some one to keep them, and kept I am, and in slap-up style,
madame."
"So much the worse! What do you mean? Oh, you may toss your head and
go about in scarves,
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