y paying
my respects to her and introducing my friend. She received us politely,
but I noticed at once that she was not in the best of tempers and that a
squall might be expected at any moment.

My friend and I seated ourselves cautiously on the edges of our chairs
and awaited further developments. Happily the clouds gathering round her
dark brow were not to burst over our heads; the danger was averted by
the appearance of a very handsome and elegant woman. She was a
well-known operatic star, and swept into the room with all the assurance
that success and an up-to-date Parisian toilette can give. With charming
grace and affability she greeted Madame Rossini and beamed kindly on one
or two friends. "I have come, chere amie," she said, "to offer my
services to the Maestro. I hear he is going to perform his 'Stabat
Mater,' and, if he wants a good voice to join in the chorus, I am at his
disposal."

"There you are," answered Madame Rossini in her sternest manner; "we
have refused more than one of that kind. It's an age one hasn't seen
anything of you, and now there's something going on, and you want to be
in it, you vouchsafe to reappear."

"Mais chere amie," answered the other, "you don't for a moment believe
what you say; you know what has prevented my seeing my dearest friends.
Empechement de force majeure, n'est ce pas?" And therewith she proceeded
to give us some interesting details connected with her first experiences
as a mother, and with her consequent inability to make afternoon
calls--details so minute that they did not fail to convince everybody
present excepting the obdurate Madame Rossini, who was about to retort,
when the primadonna managed, with marvellous skill, to change the
conversation. We soon found ourselves talking of the latest scandal; of
a phaeton which a certain lady had no business to show herself in at the
Bois, so soon after a certain duel which that particular phaeton had led
to. From that we got quite naturally to the chapter of _robes et
chiffons_, and all went so smoothly that my friend and I soon made
ourselves more at home on our chairs. But there was to be another brush
between the ladies. As the brilliant one rose to leave, she said with a
winning smile, "Adieu, tres-chere; vous etes bien la plus excellente des
creatures, but really," she added sadly, "just now you were not
_gentille_."

"I did not mean to be," answered madame, "and I did mean every word of
what I said." That was he