This time I had obtained such directions as were necessary to prevent my going astray, and in due time I arrived at Madame de Marsan’s estate. It was almost a little château; the situation was delightful, the surroundings beautiful; the gardens seemed quite extensive and very well kept, the apartments decorated with refined taste, and so well arranged that a large number of guests could easily be accommodated. But I postponed my examination of these details, being in haste to present my respects to the mistress of the house.
“Madame is alone,” said the maid; “none of the guests have arrived yet.”
I had hoped that that would be the case.
“And Monsieur de Marsan?”
“Oh! monsieur won’t come until the day of the party or the day before. He never meddles in such things.”
I could not have chosen my time better. I hastened to surprise her. The welcome I received satisfied me that she was flattered by my zeal.
“It is very good of you to come first,” she said; “we can rehearse a scene from Le Barbier together. Our parts are very long, you know, and, for my part, I have a very poor memory.”
“I will do whatever you please, madame.”
“Come first of all to look at our theatre. I am sure that you expect to find a cramped little place, where your head touches the flies, and the houses are smaller than the actors. Come, monsieur; I am determined that the sight of our playhouse shall arouse a spirit of emulation in you.”
She laughingly led me into the garden; the theatre was in the centre. It was large, convenient, and excellently arranged. The auditorium was tastefully decorated and would hold about three hundred people.