eturned home furious. Mr. Birne
had made no use of the tickets, and the ten boxes had remained vacant.

Thus on appearing on the stage, the unfortunate _beneficiaire_ read on
the countenances of her lady friends, the delight they felt at seeing
the house so badly filled. She even heard an actress of her acquaintance
say to another, as she pointed to the empty boxes, "Poor Dolores, she
has only planted one stage box."

"True, the boxes are scarcely occupied," was the rejoinder.

"The stalls, too, are empty."

"Well, when they see her name on the bill, it acts on the house like an
air pump."

"Hence, what an idea to put up the price of the seats!"

"A fine benefit. I will bet that the takings would not fill a money box
or the foot of a stocking."

"Ah! There she is in her famous red velvet costume."

"She looks like a lobster."

"How much did you make out of your last benefit?" said another actress
to her companion.

"The house was full, my dear, and it was a first night; chairs in the
gangway were worth a louis. But I only got six francs; my milliner had
all the rest. If I was not afraid of chilblains, I would go to Saint
Petersburg."

"What, you are not yet thirty, and are already thinking of doing your
Russia?"

"What would you have?" said the other, and she added, "and you, is your
benefit soon coming on?"

"In a fortnight, I have already three thousand francs worth of tickets
taken, without counting my young fellows from Saint Cyr."

"Hallo, the stalls are going out."

"It is because Dolores is singing."

In fact, Dolores, as red in the face as her costume, was warbling her
verses with a vinegary voice. Just as she was getting though it with
difficulty, two bouquets fell at her feet, thrown by two actresses, her
dear friends, who advanced to the front of their box, exclaiming--:

"Bravo, Dolores!"

The fury of the latter may be readily imagined. Thus, on returning home,
although it was the middle of the night, she opened the window and woke
up Coco, who woke up the honest Mr. Birne, who had dropped off to sleep
on the faith of her promise.

From that day war was declared between the actress and the Englishman; a
war to the knife, without truce or repose, the parties engaged in which
recoiled before no expense or trouble. The parrot took finishing lessons
in English and abused his neighbor all day in it, and in his shrillest
falsetto. It was something awful. Dolores suffered from it herself, b