you will never have as many declarations as I
have had, missus. You will never match the _Belle Ecaillere of the
Cadran Bleu_."
Heloise Brisetout rose at once to her feet, stood at attention, and
made a military salute, like a soldier who meets his general.
"What?" asked Gaudissart, "are you really _La Belle Ecaillere_ of whom
my father used to talk?"
"In that case the cachucha and the polka were after your time; and
madame has passed her fiftieth year," remarked Heloise, and striking
an attitude, she declaimed, "'Cinna, let us be friends.'"
"Come, Heloise, the lady is not up to this; let her alone."
"Madame is perhaps the New Heloise," suggested La Cibot, with sly
innocence.
"Not bad, old lady!" cried Gaudissart.
"It is a venerable joke," said the dancer, "a grizzled pun; find us
another old lady--or take a cigarette."
"I beg your pardon, madame, I feel too unhappy to answer you; my two
gentlemen are very ill; and to buy nourishment for them and to spare
them trouble, I have pawned everything down to my husband's clothes
that I pledged this morning. Here is the ticket!"
"Oh! here, the affair is becoming tragic," cried the fair Heloise.
"What is it all about?"
"Madame drops down upon us like--"
"Like a dancer," said Heloise; "let me prompt you,--missus!"
"Come, I am busy," said Gaudissart. "The joke has gone far enough.
Heloise, this is M. Pons' confidential servant; she had come to tell
me that I must not count upon him; our poor conductor is not expected
to live. I don't know what to do."
"Oh! poor man; why, he must have a benefit."
"It would ruin him," said Gaudissart. "He might find next day that he
owed five hundred francs to charitable institutions, and they refuse
to admit that there are any sufferers in Paris except their own. No,
look here, my good woman, since you are going in for the Montyon
prize----"
He broke off, rang the bell, and the youth before mentioned suddenly
appeared.
"Tell the cashier to send me up a thousand-franc note.--Sit down,
madame."
"Ah! poor woman, look, she is crying!" exclaimed Heloise. "How stupid!
There, there, mother, we will go to see him; don't cry.--I say, now,"
she continued, taking the manager into a corner, "you want to make me
take the leading part in the ballet in _Ariane_, you Turk. You are
going to be married, and you know how I can make you miserable--"
"Heloise, my heart is copper-bottomed like a man-of-war."
"I shall bring y
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