M. Mauperin entered the room, and interrupted the confidences.
A few days later, Renee having set her mind upon playing in private theatricals, a discussion arose about the filling of the second lady’s part in the play that had been chosen. One by one the names suggested were dismissed, until Henri said, “Why not ask Mlle. Bourjot? They are just staying at Sannois.”
“Noemi?” replied Renee. “I’d love it. But she, was so cold towards me last winter. I don’t know why.”
“She will have L12,000 a year,” interrupted Denoisel, “and her mother knows that you have a brother. And they are not a little proud of their money.”
Twelve thousand a year! Madame Mauperin thought of her son’s future, and supported his suggestion. It was decided that they would call on the Bourjots on Saturday.
To Sannois they went as arranged on the Saturday. They were received with effusion, and had to put up for an hour or so with the unbearable arrogance of their hosts’ display of wealth. Renee’s warm advances to the playmate of her childhood were received by Noemi with coolness, not to say reluctance, but the request that Noemi should take part in the theatricals met with her mother’s approval, the shy girl’s objections— nervousness, lack of talent, and so forth—being overruled by Madame Bourjot. Before the two families parted it was arranged that Noemi should be taken by her governess to attend the rehearsals at the Mauperins’ house.
Renee’s whole-hearted friendliness and sparkling humour soon overcame Noemi’s reserve, and under Denoisel’s direction the amateur actors made rapid progress. Madame Bourjot herself came to one of the rehearsals, and, after the first compliments, expressed her surprise that Henri, the principal actor, was absent. “Oh, he has a wonderful memory,” said his proud mother; “two rehearsals will set him right.”
At last the great day arrived. A stage had been arranged in the large drawing-room, which was filled to its utmost capacity, the ladies being seated in the long rows of chairs, the men standing behind and overflowing through open doors into the adjoining rooms. The play chosen was “The Caprice.” Henri, who revealed rare talent, took the part of the husband; Noemi of the neglected wife. The curtain fell upon enthusiastic applause, and Madame Bourjot, who had feared that her daughter would be a fiasco, was delighted with her success. Amid the hum of voices she heard the lady sitting next to her say to her neighbour, “His sister, I know ... but for the part he is not sufficiently in love with her ... and too much with his wife. Did you notice?” she continued, in a whisper.
In the second piece Henri appeared as Pierrot, Renee as the forsaken wife, and Noemi as the beloved. Henri played with real passion. From time to time his eyes seemed to search for Madame Bourjot’s. Her neighbour felt her leaning against her shoulder. The curtain fell. Madame Bourjot swayed, and fell back in a faint.