At these words Mlle. d' Armilly roused herself and, springing to her feet, faced the young soldier in a fit of uncontrollable rage.
"How dare you," she cried, her eyes flashing and her voice tremulous with anger, "come here, to me, after what has occurred to-night!"
"I was not aware, Louise," answered he, apologetically, "that you had such a terrible aversion to the Count of Monte-Cristo."
"The Count of Monte-Cristo!" exclaimed the director. "Was he in the house this evening? What an honor!"
The irate prima donna flashed upon him a terrible glance.
"If you consider it an honor to have that monster in your theatre," she fairly hissed, "I will sing for you no more!"
The humiliated director walked away without making a reply. He deemed it the part of wisdom not to embroil himself with an eminent artiste who was capable of bringing him in so much money, and who also was capable, he thought, of breaking her engagement if she saw fit to do so. He, therefore, left the dressing-room. The others, seeing that Mlle. d' Armilly was evidently about to have a hot dispute with her admirer and that she was sufficiently restored to need no further care, also quitted the apartment.
When they were alone, the prima donna turned fiercely upon the Captain, exclaiming:
"And you profess to love me, too! Was it love that induced you to bring my worst enemy here to-night? It was hatred rather! Captain Joliette, you hate me!"