“There’s a bottle of Seltzer behind the first wing; that will pop like champagne.”
All these incidents delayed the rising of the curtain; but the audience did not grumble, they laughed and found amusement in all that they saw. At last an amateur musician armed with a violin, and another carrying a clarinet in his arms like a baby, took their seats in front of the stage.
As for the prompter, there being no hole under the stage for him, he stood behind the drop curtain.
“This theatre in the midst of a forest is really very pretty!” said Madame de Grangeville, who was seated beside Madame Glumeau.
“Oh! you will see how pretty it is, madame la baronne, when the curtain rises; we have some lovely scenery: a Pompadour salon, painted by Monsieur Devoir; it is perfectly lovely.”
“What plays are they going to give us?”
“They begin with Œil et Nez, a little farce acted by Madame Dufournelle, my son and Monsieur Mangeot.—But it is very strange,—look about as I will, I don’t see Madame Boutillon; and yet I am very sure that she came with her husband.”
“Who is Madame Boutillon?”
“She is a young lady who lives here in summer, as we do; she had on a very original, very pretty dress.”
“If she has on a pretty dress, it isn’t possible that she has hidden herself; she must be somewhere here.”