“Ha! ha!” laughed Zerbine, “that’s a verse that ought to be set to music.”  And she began singing it to a merry tune at the top of her voice; a voice so clear and ringing that it was a pleasure to hear it.  She accompanied her song with such an amusing and effective pantomime, representing flight and pursuit, that it was a pity she had not had a larger audience to enjoy it.  After this outburst of merriment she quieted down a little, and gave her companions a brief, history of her adventures since she had parted from them, declaring that the marquis had invariably treated her with the courtesy and generosity of a prince.  But in spite of it all she had longed for her old wandering life with the troupe, the excitement of acting, and the rounds of applause she never failed to win; and at last she confessed to the marquis that she was pining for her role of soubrette.

“‘Very well,’ he said to me, ’you can take your mules and your belongings and go in pursuit of the troupe, and I will shortly follow in pursuit of you.  I have some matters to look after in Paris, that have been neglected of late, and I have been too long absent from the court.  You will permit me to applaud you I suppose, and truth to tell I shall be very glad to enjoy your bewitching acting again.’  So I told him I would look for him among the audience every evening till he made his appearance, and, after the most tender leave-taking, I jumped on my mule and caught you up here at the Armes de France, as you know.”

“But,” said Herode, “suppose your marquis should not turn up at all! you would be regularly sold.”

This idea struck Zerbine as being so utterly absurd that she threw herself back and laughed until she had to hold her sides, and was fairly breathless.  “The marquis not come!” she cried, when she could speak, “you had better engage rooms for him right away—­not come!  Why my fear was that he would overtake me on the road; you will see him very soon, I can guarantee.  Ah! you abominable old bear! you doubt the power of my charms, do you?  You’re decidedly growing stupid, Herode, as you grow old; you used to be rather clever than otherwise.”

At this moment appeared Leander and Scapin, who had heard of Zerbine’s arrival from the servants, and came to pay their respects, soon followed by old Mme. Leonarde, who greeted the soubrette with as much obsequiousness as if she had-been a princess.  Isabelle came also to welcome her, to the great delight of Zerbine, who was devotedly fond of her, and always trying to do something to please her.  She now insisted upon presenting her with a piece of rich silk, which Isabelle accepted very reluctantly, and only when she found that the warm-hearted soubrette would be really wounded if she refused her first gift.  Serafina had shut herself up in her own room, and was the only one that failed to come and bid Zerbine welcome.  She could neither forget nor forgive the inexplicable preference of the Marquis de Bruyeres for her humble rival, and she called the soubrette all sorts of hard names in her wrath and indignation; but nobody paid any attention to her bad humour, and she was left to sulk in solitude.