"The Theatre-Francaise ought to engage her immediately. They would
find it would at once increase their subscription list."

"They say that her father is very much distressed to see her in the
theatre. Why there they are, the Darbois. Don't you see them, in that
box far back? They are looking very pleased."

A tall, pale man passed by.

"Ah! there goes Count Styvens. Have you read the article he wrote in
the _Debats_ this morning?"

"No, he puts me to sleep."

"I read it; it was rather unusual."

"What about?"

"About the fecundity of the pollen of flowers."

The chatter ceased. The count was within hearing.

"What have you to say about Esperance Darbois?" inquired a young lady.

The count blushed vividly, an unaccustomed light gleaming in his clear
eyes. "It is too soon to pass judgment yet," he said, losing himself
in the throng again.

In the Darbois's box there was a constant coming and going of friends.
Jean Perliez joined them, his face betraying a conflict of emotions