“Not at all.  I only want him to take Pichereau’s place at my reception.  My dear Lissac, my kind Lissac,” she continued in dulcet tones, and clasping her little gloved hands entreatingly, like a child begging for a toy, “persuade Monsieur Vaudrey to accept this invitation of mine and you will be a love, you understand, Lissac, a love!”

But Guy had already risen and with a touch of his thumb snapping out his crush hat, he opened the door of the box, saying to Sabine as he did so: 

“Take notice that I ask nothing in return for this favor!”

Madame Marsy began to laugh.

“Ah!” she cried, “that is discreet, but I am willing to subscribe to any condition!”

“Selika is cold beside you,” said Lissac as he disappeared through the open doorway, “I will bring you your minister in ten minutes.”

Sabine waited nervously.  The curtain had just fallen on the third act.  The manager’s box was empty.  Guy would doubtless be obliged to rejoin Vaudrey, and neither the minister nor his friend would be seen again.  Just then some one knocked at the door of the box.  Monsieur Gerson, overcome by fatigue, and weary as only a man can be who is dragged against his will night after night to some place of amusement, was dozing in the rear of the box.  At a word from his wife he got up and hastened to open the door.  It proved to be an artist, an old friend of Philippe Marsy, who came to invite Sabine to his studio to “admire” his Envoy that he had just finished for the Salon.  Sabine received him graciously, and promised him somewhat stiffly that she would do so.  She tapped impatiently with her fan upon her fingers as the orchestra began to play the prelude to the fourth act.  It was quite certain that Lissac had failed in his mission.

Suddenly, in the luminous space made by the open door, Guy’s elegant figure appeared for a moment, disappearing immediately to allow a man to pass who entered, smiling pleasantly, and at whom a group of people, standing in the lobby behind, were gazing.  He bowed as Lissac said to Sabine: 

“Allow me, madame, to present to you His Excellency the Minister of the Interior.”

Sabine, suddenly beaming with joy, saw no one but Sulpice Vaudrey amongst the group of men in dress-clothes who gave way to allow the dignitary to pass.  She had eyes only for him!

She arose, pushing back her chair instinctively, as the Minister entered, Monsieur and Madame Gerson standing at one side and Sabine on the other and bowing to him,—­Sabine triumphant, Madame Gerson curious, Monsieur Gerson flattered though sleepy.

Sulpice seated himself at Madame Marsy’s side, with the amiable condescension of a great man charmed to play the agreeable, and to visit, at the solicitation of a friend, a fair woman whom all the world delighted to honor.  It seemed to him to put the finishing touch to that success and power which had been his only a few days.