The names of the actors were at the end of the bill. All the chairs in
the house were placed closely together in rows in front of the stage,
and the ladies, in evening dress, were seated, their skirts, their
laces, the flashing of their diamonds, and their white shoulders all
mingling together. The two doors at the other end of the room leading
into the dining-room and the small _salon_ had been taken off their
hinges, and the masculine part of the audience, in white neckties, were
grouped together there and standing on tip-toe.
The curtain rose on the first scene of _The Caprice_. Renée was very
lively as Mme. de Léry; Henri, in the rôle of husband, proved himself a
talented amateur actor, as so many young men of a cold temperament, and
grave society men, often do. Noémi, well sustained by Henri, admirably
prompted by Denoisel, and slightly carried away by seeing the large
audience, played her touching part as the neglected wife very passably.
This was a great relief to Mme. Bourjot, who was seated in the front row
anxiously watching her daughter. Her vanity had been alarmed by the
thought of a fiasco. The curtain fell, and amid the applause were heard
shouts for "_All the actors!_" Her daughter had not made herself
ridiculous, and the mother was delighted with this great success and
gave herself up complacently to listening to that Babel of voices,
opinions, and criticisms, which at amateur dramatic performances
succeeds the applause and continues it, as it were, in a sort of murmur.
In the midst of it all she heard vaguely one phrase, spoken near her,
that came to her distinctly and seemed to rise above the general hubbub.
"Yes, it's his sister, I know," some one was saying; "but for the rôle
he takes I don't think he is sufficiently in love with her; he is really
far too much in love with his wife--didn't you notice?"
The lady who was speaking saw that Mme. Bourjot was listening, and,
leaning towards her neighbour, whispered something to her. This little
incident made Mme. Bourjot turn very serious.
After an interval the curtain was once more raised, and Henri Mauperin
appeared as Pierrot, but not arrayed in the traditional calico blouse
and black cap. He was an Italian Pierrot, with a straight felt hat, and
was entirely clothed in satin from his coat to his slippers. There was a
movement among the ladies, which meant that they thought both the man
and the costume charming, and then the buffoonery began.
It was the silly story of Pierrot married to one woman and wishing to
marry another; a farce mingled with passion, which had been discovered
by a vaudeville-writer, aided by a poet, among the stock-pieces of the
old Italian theatre. Renée took the part of the deserted wife, this
time, appearing in various disguises when her husband was love-making
elsewhere. Noémi was the woman with whom he was in love, and Henri
delighted the house in his love scenes with her. He acted well, putting
plenty of youthful ardour, enthusiasm, and warmth into his part. In the
scene where he confessed his love, there was something in his voice and
expression that seemed like a real declaration, which had escaped him,
and which he could not keep back. Noémi certainly had made up as the
prettiest Colombine imaginable. She looked perfectly adorable, dressed
as a bride in a Louis XVI costume copied exactly from the _Bride's
Minuet_, an engraving by Debucourt lent by M. Barousse. All around Mme.
Bourjot it seemed as if every one were bewitched, the sympathetic public
appeared to be helping and encouraging the handsome young couple to love
each other. The piece continued, and every now and then it was as though
Henri's eyes were seeking, beyond the footlights, the eyes of Mme.
Bourjot. Meanwhile Renée arrived, disguised as a village bailiff: there
was only the contract to be signed now, and Pierrot, taking the hand of
the girl he loved, began to speak of all the happiness he should have
with her.
The lady who was seated next Mme. Bourjot felt her leaning slightly on
her shoulder. Henri finished his speech, the plot came to the climax,
and the piece ended. Mme. Bourjot's neighbour suddenly saw something
sink down at her side; it was Mme. Bourjot, who had fainted.