ever, without a pair of
feet in them, they tell a pretty plain tale. I am fifty years old, and
that is the truth; I ought to be as blind as Cupid himself."

There was no excuse for this mean-spirited monologue. The boots were
not the high-lows at present in vogue, which an unobservant man may be
allowed to disregard up to a certain point. They were the unmistakable,
uncompromising hessians then prescribed by fashion, a pair of extremely
elegant betasseled boots, which shone in glistening contrast against
tight-fitting trousers invariably of some light color, and reflected
their surroundings like a mirror. The boots stared the honest
silk-mercer out of countenance, and, it must be added, they pained his
heart.

"What is it?" asked Coralie.

"Nothing."

"Ring the bell," said Coralie, smiling to herself at Camusot's want of
spirit.--"Berenice," she said, when the Norman handmaid appeared, "just
bring me a button-hook, for I must put on these confounded boots again.
Don't forget to bring them to my dressing-room to-night."

"What?... _your_ boots?"... faltered out Camusot, breathing more freely.

"And whose should they be?" she demanded haughtily. "Were you beginning
to believe?--great stupid! Oh! and he would believe it too," she went
on, addressing Berenice.--"I have a man's part in What's-his-name's
piece, and I have never worn a man's clothes in my life before. The
bootmaker for the theatre brought me these things to try if I could walk
in them, until a pair can be made to measure. He put them on, but they
hurt me so much that I have taken them off, and after all I must wear
them."

"Don't put them on again if they are uncomfortable," said Camusot. (The
boots had made him feel so very uncomfortable himself.)

"Mademoiselle would do better to have a pair made of very thin
morocco, sir, instead of torturing herself as she did just now; but the
management is so stingy. She was crying, sir; if I was a man and loved a
woman, I wouldn't let her shed a tear, I know. You ought to order a pair
for her----"

"Yes, yes," said Camusot. "Are you just getting up, Coralie?"

"Just this moment; I only came in at six o'clock after looking for you
everywhere. I was obliged to keep the cab for seven hours. So much for
your care of me; you forget me for a wine-bottle. I ought to take care
of myself now when I am to play every night so long as the _Alcalde_
draws. I don't want to fall off after that young man's notice of me."