It was Caroline to whom this complimentary speech was addressed. She glanced at me with an impatient gesture, but Giraud, who thought that he had done the most graceful thing in the world in praising fine figures, had not thought of Monsieur Roquencourt, who was very short. The uncle stepped forward into the centre of the circle and said:
“Monsieur, you are greatly mistaken when you say that a man of medium height should not offer his arm to a tall woman; Mademoiselle Contat was by no means short, and she certainly found me a most satisfactory escort.”
“Oh, Monsieur Roquencourt! Why, that is not what I said, or what I meant to say! The devil! let us understand each other. Little man! deuce take it! why, everybody knows that the heroes, the Alexanders, the Fredericks, the Napoléons, were all men of short stature. Isn’t that so, Monsieur Mouillé?—Wife, for heaven’s sake, make your daughter stop her noise.”
“And on the stage, monsieur, it is much better to be short than tall, for the stage makes everyone appear taller.”
“That is what I have said twenty times to my wife,—the stage makes people taller; and you know something about it, Monsieur Roquencourt.”
“Yes, indeed I do. A tall man cannot play Figaro, or Mascarille, or Scapin.—Ah! how quick and active I was as Scapin! I had my portrait painted in the character.”
“Your portrait as Scapin! Was it exhibited in the Salon?”
“They wanted to paint me as Monsieur de Crac too.”
“Monsieur de Crac! My wife is still laughing because I repeated some scenes to her, after you. Ah! Monsieur Roquencourt! if you would only be good enough—Monsieur Mouillé has never seen Monsieur de Crac,—Have you, Monsieur Mouillé?”
“I beg your pardon,” replied the young man, “I think that I have seen it acted at Bobino’s.”