* Taboureau is previously described as Minister of Public
Instruction. It should be pointed out, however, that
although under the present Republic the Ministries of
Public Instruction and Fine Arts have occasionally been
distinct departments, at other times they have been
united, one minister, as in Taboureau’s case, having
charge of both.—Trans.
Erect and rigid, she spoke but two words: “And then?”
“And then—well, my dear, what would you have me do? One can’t after all overthrow a ministry to enable you to play the part of Pauline.”
“Why not?”
He pretended to laugh, but his blood rushed to his face, and the whole of his sturdy figure quivered with anguish. “Come, my little Silviane,” said he, “don’t be obstinate. You can be so nice when you choose. Give up the idea of that debut. You, yourself, would risk a great deal in it, for what would be your worries if you were to fail? You would weep all the tears in your body. And besides, you can ask me for so many other things which I should be so happy to give you. Come now, at once, make a wish and I will gratify it immediately.”
In a frolicsome way he sought to take her hand again. But she drew back with an air of much dignity. “No, you hear me, my dear fellow, I will have nothing whatever to do with you—nothing, so long as I don’t play Pauline.”
He understood her fully, and he knew her well enough to realise how rigorously she would treat him. Only a kind of grunt came from his contracted throat, though he still tried to treat the matter in a jesting way. “Isn’t she bad-tempered to-day!” he resumed at last, turning towards Gerard. “What have you done to her that I find her in such a state?”
But the young man, who kept very quiet for fear lest he himself might be bespattered in the course of the dispute, continued to stretch himself out in a languid way and gave no answer.
But Silviane’s anger burst forth. “What has he done to me? He has pitied me for being at the mercy of such a man as you—so egotistical, so insensible to the insults heaped upon me. Ought you not to be the first to bound with indignation? Ought you not to have exacted my admittance to the Comedie as a reparation for the insult? For, after all, it is a defeat for you; if I’m considered unworthy, you are struck at the same time as I am. And so I’m a drab, eh? Say at once that I’m a creature to be driven away from all respectable houses.”
She went on in this style, coming at last to vile words, the abominable words which, in moments of anger, always ended by returning to her innocent-looking lips. The Baron, who well knew that a syllable from him would only increase the foulness of the overflow, vainly turned an imploring glance on the Count to solicit his intervention. Gerard, with his keen desire for peace and quietness, often brought about a reconciliation, but this time he did not stir, feeling too lazy and sleepy to interfere. And Silviane all at once came to a finish, repeating her trenchant, severing words: “Well, manage as you can, secure my debut, or I’ll have nothing more to do with you, nothing!”