LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IV, Issue 319, 21 June 1875, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE DEBUT OF MADEMOISELLE AGATHE. ( Continued.') ‘ Don’t talk nonsense, monsieur, but give it me directly ; I’m dying to see how long it is. Ten, fifteen, twenty pages! and look, mother, how delightful ! —one couplet, two couplets. Does Mdlle. Amanda sing, Jules ? ’ ‘ Sing ! with a voice like a nutmeg-grater, and every second note a Couac ? No, no ; if she plays Ernestine, out go the couplets. The chef-d’orchestre wouldn’t stand it. Is your clock right, Mere Boquillard ?’ ‘ With the Bourse to a minute, Monsieur Jules,’ answered the portress. ‘ Then I have just time for a cutlet before Igo to the theatre. Adieu, Mdlle. Fleury,’ continued he, gaily. ‘ Think of your debut, and leave the rest to me. Au re voir, la mere !’ ‘ C’est egal!’ grumbled Madame Boquillard, as he hurried out of the loge. ‘ Fleury’s a pretty name enough, but it doesn’t sound half so aristo as Beauval.’ Mademoiselle Amanda, the leading actress of the Nonpareil, occupied a spacious apartment on the second-floor of a newly-built mansion on the Boulevard Malesherbes ; and at the identical moment when Jules Laroche quitted the abode of his betrothed for the purpose of devoting a quarter of an hour to an hasty dejeuner, was engaged in leisurely terminating her own morning repast, consisting of a delicate slice of pate-de-foie-gras and a cup of chocolate. While indolently dallying with these dainties, she occasionally glanced at a theatrical journal which lay beside her, wet from the press, and probably criticising some novelty of the previous evening; but her attention appeared to be principally absorbed by a pet spaniel, perpetually begging for tid-bits, and snugly ensconced in a chair adjoining that of his mistress. Mdlle Amanda was tall and strikingly handsome, but the expression of her countenance was not altogether pleasing; her eyes, of the deepest blue, were singularly lustrous, and an abundance of dark brown hair, the especial pride of her coiffeur, hung over her finely shaped shoulders in picturesque disorder ; but her lips were thin, and there was a cold hardness about her mouth and chin suggestive rather of obstinacy than of good temper. By her own account, she was twenty-four years of age ; had the certificate of her birth been consulted, we suspect that twenty-nine would have been nearer the mark, but as we are bound to respect the well-known feminine axiom, “On a ton jours I’age qu’on parait avoir,” and as Mdlle Amanda really looked younger than she actually was, it would be an unpardonable act of lese-gallantry to investigate too closely the mysteries of the parish register. Presently, after taking a final sip of chocolate, and throwing the Gazette des Theatres listlessly aside, she rang a small handbell ; a summons instantly responded to by the entrance of a sallow-cheeked damsel, neatly attired in a well-fitting gown and black silk apron. ‘ Is the coiffeur arrived, Esther ?’ ‘ Ten minutes ago, madame,’ was the reply. *He said he would wait till madame had finished breakfast.’ ‘ Has the Count sent any message ?’ ‘ The usual bouquet, madame; nothing more. ’ ‘ Ah! and no letter from Monsieur Auguste ?’ None. Madame will pardon me for saying that it is already late, and that the carriage is at the door. ’ ‘ Bien, ma fille. Tell Causse to come in, then. And, Esther, if Monsieur Auguste should call during my absence, remind him that he wall find me at six precisely at the Moulin Rouge.’ ‘ And if Monsieur le Comte should ask after madame ?’ ‘ You will say that I shall be at home from three to four.’ Twenty minutes later Mdlle. Amanda was on her way to the theatre. Before we follow her thither, it may be as well to introduce the reader to the two personages incidentally mentioned in her conversation with Mdlle. Esther. Count de la Riviere, the intimate friend alluded to by Jules Laroche, had been in his younger days one of the handsomest men in France, and though considerably past fifty, was still regarded by a certain class of Parisian society as a model of what M. Xavier de Montepin aptly terms the “viveur.” An influential member of the Jockey Club, and possessor of an ample fortune, he was also a liberal patron of the dramatic, and more particularly the choregraphic art; perhaps a trifle too much after the fashion of the late Marquis of Steyne; but this peculiarity, especially in the little world of the coulisses, rather added to than detracted from his popularity. Latterly, he had abandoned the opera, where his approving nod had been treasured by many an incipient corjqfliee as an infallible step towards a baton de marechal, or, in other words, to a pas seul, for the Nonpareil, of which theatre he had become a shareholder, and the sudden interest evinced by him in the establishment presided over by M. Darbois was generally attributed to the bright eyes and captivating blandishments of Mdlle Amanda.

As for M. Auguste, he was no other than the Honourable Augustus Maltravers, [second son of a poor nobleman with a large family, and paid attache of the English Embassy : the said pay, together with the paternal allowance, barely sufficing for his own gloves and cigars, and for an occasional dinner en tete-a-tete with some fair Bohemian at Durand’s, or, by way, of variety, at the Moulin Rouge. In Paris, however, impecuniosity, when accompanied by good looks and patrician elegance, is not without its advantages ; and Monsieur Auguste, with no other recommendation than his two-and-twenty summers and an irreproachable tailor, was by no means an unwelcome guest in boudoirs for an entree to whichM. Croesus, of theßourse, or M. Machin, of the Credit Mobilier, might have sighed in vain. He had of late devoted his exclusive homage to the heroine of the Nonpareil; and her reception of his attentions (whether from gratified vanity or any more sympathetic feeling, or both together, matters little) was so encouraging that what had originally been a momentary caprice on his part had insensibly grown into a habit, and at the period when our sketch opens, he had become almost as regular an habitue of the Boulevard Malesherbes as the Count himself. Amanda was, however, far too- alive to her own interests to risk any chance meeting between the two ; and it required her utmost ingenuity (backed up by that of Mdlle. Esther) to invent a satisfactory alibi on

every occasion when such irresistible temptations as a dinner at Saint Germain, or a baignoire at a boulevard theatre prevented her from doing the honours of her salon to M. de la Riviere. But as every Parisian house has its concierge ; and as that modern Cerberus, as a general rule, is seldom insensible to the attraction of a twenty-franc piece ; the Count was by no means at a loss to account for her frequent absences from home when temporarily released from her professional duties, and if he said nothing respecting his discoveries, it might be that he thought the more. Meanwhile matters were progressing at the Nonpareil, After a long interview with M. Darbois, in the course of which Mdlle. Agathe’s debut had been determined on, Jules had finished his reading, and the parts of “Les Hasards de I’Amour, vaudeville in one act,” had been distributed to the leading members of the company, including Mdlle. Amanda, who, to the despair of the chefd’orchestra, peremptorily insisted on singing the couplets written for Ernestine. The first rehearsal was fixed for the following day, the manager being anxious to produce the piece as speedily as possible ; and in a few minutes the only occupants of the foyer were M. Darbois and Laroche. ‘ Now, listen to me,’ said the former; ‘ bring your protege here this afternoon that I may see what she is like, and tell her to learn the part and rehearse it with you. If she is half as good as you say, she will make a hit.’ ‘ But if Amanda persists in playing it ?’ objected Jules, ‘Don’t trouble yourself about that; I know what I know.’ With which ambiguous assurance, and a Burleigh-like nod, M. Darbois quitted the room. We may be sure that his young companion lost no time in following his example. * * * * *

A week had elapsed since the events above recorded. Mdlle Agathe, to the ineffable delight of Madame Boquillard, had so completely identified herself with the character of Ernestine as entirely to satisfy the expectations of the author, who privately communicated to the manager his conviction that one single repetition with her fellow performers would amply suffice to familiarise her with the exits and entrances and other stage arrangements of the Nonpareil. The actors, too, were reasonably perfect in their respective parts, and Chambertin, the jeune premier (his real name, by the way, was Greluchon), whose business it was to make fierce love to Ernestine during the piece, remarked at the conclusion of the sixth rehearsal that he guaranteed a triumphant success, provided that Amanda would for once in a way condescend not to sing false. * I sing false ! ’ retorted the lady alluded to, reddening with anger; ‘ Monsieur Chambertin, you may be a very tolerable jeune premier (mind, I don’t say you are), but you never sang a note in tune in your life. M. Darbois, I wonder you can stand by, and allow me to be exposed to such insolence !’ ‘ My good Amanda,’ interposed the manager, ‘Chambertin is not altogether in the wrong. Between ourselves, I really think it would be advisable to leave out the couplets. What do you say, Monsieur Guichardot ? ’ continued he, adressing the chef-d’orchestre. ‘What is your opinion of mademoiselle’s singing ?’ ‘ Faux comme un jeton,’ replied that functionary, decisively. ‘ Then, some one else may play the part,’ exclaimed Amanda, ‘ for I’ll not say a word of it. Give it to one of your grues,’ added she, drawing on her gloves with such violence as greatly to endanger the buttons; ‘ you’ve plenty of them ! ’ Now, in theatrical parlance, a grue being the very acme of awkwardness and stupidity, no more humiliating epithet can be applied to an actress ; and the indignant looks of the two or three present plainly showed that they fully appreciated the allusion. ‘Am I, then, to understand, mademoiselle,’ said Darbois, in his gentlest tone, ‘ that you positively refuse to play Ernestine ?’ ‘ Since you wish me to repeat what I have said, monsieur,’ replied Amanda, who had by this time partially recovered herself, * I do positively refuse—and I have the honour of wishing you a good morning !’ ‘ Pack of idiots !’ was her reflection as she descended the stairs ; ‘if it were not for the Count, I’d never set foot on these boards again. However, I’ve put a spoke in Darbois, wheel, that’s one comfort. Plenty of water will pass under the Pont Neuf before he finds another Ernestine !’ Left to themselves, the actors looked at each other somewhat disconsolately, ‘ Sac-a-papier !’ muttered Chambertin, ‘ I didn’t mean it to go so far as that, Here’s a charming piece, with a glorious part for me, shelved for the next three months! Monsieur Darbois,’ pursued he aloud,’ ‘I presume we are to go back to the old repertoire ?’ ‘On the contrary, my children,’ replied the manager, * to-morrow at twelve a final rehearsal, and on the following evening the first performance of “ Les Hasards de I’Amour.” ’

‘ Bah !’ exclaimed Chambertin, thoroughly puzzled. ‘ And Ernestine ?’ ‘ That’s my affair,’ said M. Darbois. * * * * *

During the whole of that day and the next, Mdlle. Esther had little reason to congratulate herself on the serenity of her mistress’s temper; nor, indeed, all things taken into account, could the unusual irritability of that lady be deemed absolutely inexcusable. No bulletin from the theatre, no visit from the Count, and, what in her opinion was even more aggravating, no reply to an affectionate note addressed to the British Embassy. After a solitary dinner on the evening subsequent to her abrupt departure from the Nonpariel, Mdlle. Amanda, mechanically skimming the Patrie, suddenly started as her eye fell on the following announcement among the dramatic advertisements : “To-morrow, first representation of *Les Hasards de I’Amour, vaudeville in one act. ’ ” ‘ Impossible !’ she exclaimed, as she read the paragraph over a second time; then, after a minute’s thought, bursting into a laugh, continued: ‘ What a simpleton lam ! I understand it now. Darbois sent the reclame before I threw up the part, and has forgotten to countermand it.’ To be continued.