e
of Uncle David. Having left France for political reasons, the old
republican had taken care of his niece after her father's death, and had
accepted the position of Jeanne's business manager in her relations with
the stage. Uncle David's object, when he joined us in the garden, was
to remind her that she was wanted at rehearsal, and must at once return
with him to the theater. We parted, having arranged that I was to see
the performance on that night.
Later in the day, the Baroness sent for me again.
"Let me apologize for having misunderstood you yesterday," she said:
"and let me offer you my best congratulations. You have done wonders
already in the way of misleading the Doctor. There is only one objection
to that girl at the theater--I hear she is so pretty that she may
possibly displease the Princess. In other respects, she is just in the
public position which will make your attentions to her look like the
beginning of a serious intrigue. Bravo, Mr. Ernest--bravo!"
I was too indignant to place any restraint on the language in which I
answered her.
"Understand, if you please," I said, "that I am renewing an old
friendship with Mademoiselle Jeanne--begun under the sanction of her
father. Respect that young lady, madam, as I respect her."
The detestable Baroness clapped her hands, as if she had been at the
theater.
"If you only say that to the Princess," she remarked, "as well as you
have said it to me, there will be no danger of arousing her Highness's
jealousy. I have a message for you. At the concert, on Saturday, you are
to retire to the conservatory, and you may hope for an interview when
the singers begin the second part of the programme. Don't let me detain
you any longer. Go back to your young lady, Mr. Ernest--pray go back!"
VII.
ON the second night of the opera the applications for places were too
numerous to be received. Among the crowded audience, I recognized many
of my friends. They persisted in believing an absurd report (first
circulated, as I imagine, by the Doctor), which asserted that my
interest in the new singer was something more than the interest of an
old friend. When I went behind the scenes to congratulate Jeanne on
her success, I was annoyed in another way--and by the Doctor again. He
followed me to Jeanne's room, to offer _his_ congratulations; and he
begged that I would introduce him to the charming prima donna. Having
expressed his admiration, he looked at me with his ins
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