Mlle.
Frahender was stupified by so much eclecticism, the philosopher forgot
his grief, Madame Darbois realized for the first time that there might
exist a brain worthy of comparison with her husband's. As to
Esperance, she was living in a dream of what the future would unfold.
One evening had sufficed for her to conquer Paris, to capture the
provinces, and arouse the foreigner, frequently so indifferent to
great artistic achievements.
The young pupil pursued her courses at the Conservatoire, in spite of
Sardou's remonstrances that she would find it fatiguing. The modesty
and simplicity of her return to the midst of her comrades restored her
to the popularity her triumph had endangered.
"She is, you know, quite a 'sport,'" pronounced a sharp young person,
who was destined to take the parts of the aggressive modern female.
A tall young man, with a grave face and settled manner, approaching
baldness, in spite of his twenty-three years, pressed Jean Perliez's
hand affectionately. "Don't give in, old fellow, keep up hope. You
never know!"
Jean smiled sadly, shaking his head. He looked at Esperance, who was
lovelier than ever. He had waited for her at the foot of the stairway,
for the intimacy of the two families gave him a chance to know when to
expect his glorious little friend.
"Why, how pale you are, Jean!" she exclaimed at sight of him. "What is
the matter with you?"
"What is the matter with me?" he murmured.
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