ther there
is another princess de Bouillon among the audience--beware of her!"

"You know very well that there is not."

"Not yet, perhaps, but military men are so inconstant! By and by,
Maurice!" she murmured, with a smile.

"By and by, Adrienne!" Henri replied, kissing her hand.

He accompanied her to the steps that led to the stage, and, lounging
along the passage that ends at the head of the grand stairway, he entered
the theatre and hastened to his usual seat in the third row of the
orchestra.

CHAPTER XII

RIVAL BEAUTIES

It was Tuesday, the subscription night; the auditorium was as much the
more brilliant as the play was more interesting than on other nights. In
one of the proscenium boxes sat the Duchesse de Montgeron with the
Comtesse de Lisieux; in another the Vicomtesse de Nointel and Madame
Thomery. In the first box on the left Madame Desvanneaux was to be seen,
with her husband and her son, the youthful and recently rejected
pretender to the hand of Mademoiselle de Vermont.

Among the subscription seats in the orchestra sat the Baron de Samoreau,
the notary Durand, treasurer of the Industrial Orphan Asylum; the
aide-de-camp of General Lenaieff, beside his friend the Marquis de
Prerolles. One large box, the first proscenium loge on the right, was
still unoccupied when the curtain rose on the second act.

The liaison of Eugenie Gontier with the Marquis de Prerolles was not a
mystery; from the moment of her entrance upon the scene, it was evident
that she "played to him," to use a phrase in theatrical parlance. Thus,
after the recital of the combat undertaken in behalf of Adrienne by her
defender--a recital which she concluded in paraphrasing these two lines:

'Paraissez, Navarrois, Maures et Castilians,
Et tout ce que l'Espagne a produit de vaillants,'

many opera-glasses were directed toward the spectator to whom the actress
appeared to address herself, when suddenly a new object of interest
changed the circuit of observation. The door of the large, right-hand box
opened, and Zibeline appeared, accompanied by the Chevalier de
Sainte-Foy, an elderly gallant, carefully dressed and wearing many
decorations, and whose respectable tale of years could give no occasion
for malicious comment on his appearance in the role of 'cavalier
servente'. Having assisted his companion to remove her mantle, he
profited by the instant of time she took to settle her slightly ruffled
plumage before th