“Yes,” said Cecil.
“What a pity we can’t be there! I should so have liked to see the young Queen in evening dress. And they say the interior decorations——”
“Nothing simpler,” said Cecil. “If you want to go, dear, let us go.”
Kitty Sartorius looked round quickly. “Mr. Belmont has tried to get seats, and can’t. Haven’t you, Bel? You know the whole audience is invited. The invitations are issued by the Minister of Fine Arts.”
“Still, in Paris, anything can be got by paying for it,” Cecil insisted.
“My dear young friend,” said Lionel Belmont, “I guess if seats were to be had, I should have struck one or two yesterday. I put no limit on the price, and I reckon I ought to know what theatre prices run to. Over at the Metropolitan in New York I’ve seen a box change hands at two thousand dollars, for one night.”
“Nevertheless——” Cecil began again.
“And the performance starting in six hours from now!” Lionel Belmont exclaimed. “Not much!”
But Cecil persisted.
“Seen the Herald to-day?” Belmont questioned. “No? Well, listen. This will interest you.” He drew a paper from his pocket and read: “Seats for the Opéra Gala. The traffic in seats for the gala performance at the Opéra during the last Royal Visit to Paris aroused considerable comment and not a little dissatisfaction. Nothing, however, was done, and the traffic in seats for to-night’s spectacle, at which the President and their Imperial Majesties will be present, has, it is said, amounted to a scandal. Of course, the offer so suddenly made, five days ago, by Madame Félise and Mademoiselle Malva, the two greatest living dramatic sopranos, to take part in the performance, immediately and enormously intensified interest in the affair, for never yet have these two supreme artists appeared in the same theatre on the same night. No theatre could afford the luxury. Our readers may remember that in our columns and in the columns of the Figaro there appeared four days ago an advertisement to the following effect: ‘A box, also two orchestra stalls, for the Opéra Gala, to be disposed of, owing to illness. Apply, 155, Rue de la Paix.’ We sent four several reporters to answer that advertisement. The first was offered a stage-box for seven thousand five hundred francs, and two orchestra stalls in the second row for twelve hundred and fifty francs. The second was offered a box opposite the stage on the second tier, and two stalls in the seventh row. The third had the chance of four stalls in the back row and a small box just behind them; the fourth was offered something else. The thing was obviously, therefore, a regular agency. Everybody is asking: ‘How were these seats obtained? From the Ministry of Fine Arts, or from the invités?’ Echo answers ‘How?’ The authorities, however, are stated to have interfered at last, and to have put an end to this buying and selling of what should be an honourable distinction.”