Eusebe, upon quitting the cabinet of the magistrate, rejoined his two friends, who were glad to learn that the affair of the duel would be dropped. All three then returned to Paris.
Adéonne fairly wept with joy on seeing Eusebe return. But, while the cantatrice did not try to conceal her delight, the provincial seemed abstracted, and paid little attention to this evidence of affection.
On the following morning, Eusebe arose at an early hour, hastily completed his toilet, and left the house, much to the astonishment of Adéonne, who did not venture to interrogate him as to the cause of his hasty departure.
“He did not close his eyes during the night,” said she to herself, “and he leaves me at this early hour. What can be the matter with him, and where is he going?”
Eusebe had taken but a few steps when he returned, as if he had forgotten something. After embracing his mistress, he said,—
“Adéonne, my sweet queen, do you know what duty is?”
“Certainly I do.”
“Well?”
“My duty,” replied the comédienne, “consists in not being hissed off the stage, and in being faithful to the man I love,—to you, my dear Eusebe.”