f her joy. She would have exclaimed, but M. Paul held her and
all the rest in check.

Having surveyed and criticized the whole troop, he turned to me.

"You, too, must be dressed for your part."

"Dressed--dressed like a man!" exclaimed Zelie St. Pierre, darting
forwards; adding with officiousness, "I will dress her myself."

To be dressed like a man did not please, and would not suit me. I had
consented to take a man's name and part; as to his dress--_halte la!_
No. I would keep my own dress, come what might. M. Paul might storm,
might rage: I would keep my own dress. I said so, with a voice as
resolute in intent, as it was low, and perhaps unsteady in utterance.

He did not immediately storm or rage, as I fully thought he would he
stood silent. But Zelie again interposed.

"She will make a capital _petit-maitre_. Here are the garments,
all--all complete: somewhat too large, but--I will arrange all that.
Come, chere amie--belle Anglaise!"

And she sneered, for I was not "belle." She seized my hand, she was
drawing me away. M. Paul stood impassable--neutral.

"You must not resist," pursued St. Pierre--for resist I did. "You will
spoil all, destroy the mirth of the piece, the enjoyment of the
company, sacrifice everything to your _amour-propre_. This would be too
bad--monsieur will never permit this?"

She sought his eye. I watched, likewise, for a glance. He gave her one,
and then he gave me one. "Stop!" he said slowly, arresting St. Pierre,
who continued her efforts to drag me after her. Everybody awaited the
decision. He was not angry, not irritated; I perceived that, and took
heart.

"You do not like these clothes?" he asked, pointing to the masculine
vestments.

"I don't object to some of them, but I won't have them all."

"How must it be, then? How accept a man's part, and go on the stage
dressed as a woman? This is an amateur affair, it is true--a
_vaudeville de pensionnat;_ certain modifications I might sanction, yet
something you must have to announce you as of the nobler sex."

"And I will, Monsieur; but it must be arranged in my own way: nobody
must meddle; the things must not be forced upon me. Just let me dress
myself."

Monsieur, without another word, took the costume from St. Pierre, gave
it to me, and permitted me to pass into the dressing-room. Once alone,
I grew calm, and collectedly went to work. Retaining my woman's garb
without the slightest retrenchment, I merely assumed, in additio