“I can’t endure vaudevilles. I am like Louis XIV. about Teniers,” said Lady Dudley.
“For my part,” said Madame d’Espard, “I think actors have greatly improved. Vaudevilles in the present day are really charming comedies, full of wit, requiring great talent; they amuse me very much.”
“The actors are excellent, too,” said Marie. “Those at the Gymnase played very well to-night; the piece pleased them; the dialogue was witty and keen.”
“Like those of Beaumarchais,” said Lady Dudley.
“Monsieur Nathan is not Moliere as yet, but—” said Madame d’Espard, looking at the countess.
“He makes vaudevilles,” said Madame Charles de Vandenesse.
“And unmakes ministries,” added Madame de Manerville.
The countess was silent; she wanted to answer with a sharp repartee; her heart was bounding with anger, but she could find nothing better to say than,—
“He will make them, perhaps.”
All the women looked at each other with mysterious significance. When Marie de Vandenesse departed Moina de Saint-Heren exclaimed:—