“Well, then, what will you recite, Mademoiselle?” asked Léautaud, with the most _fouchtre_ accent possible. “I will recite a fable,” I replied. He burst out laughing as he wrote down my name and the title, _Deux Pigeons_, which I gave him. I heard him still laughing under his heavy moustache as he continued his round. He then went back into the Conservatoire, and I began to get feverish with excitement, so much so that Madame Guérard was anxious about me, as my health unfortunately was very delicate. She made me sit down, and then she put a few drops of eau-de-Cologne behind my ears. [Illustration: LE CONSERVATOIRE NATIONAL DE MUSIQUE ET DE DECLAMATION, PARIS ] “There, that will teach you to wink like that!” were the words I suddenly heard, and a girl with the prettiest face imaginable had her ears boxed soundly. Nathalie Mauvoy’s mother was correcting her daughter. I sprang up, trembling with fright and indignation; I was as angry as a young turkey-cock. I wanted to go and box the horrible woman’s ears in return, and then to kiss the pretty girl who had been insulted in this way, but I was held back firmly by my two guardians. Dica Petit now returned, and this caused a diversion in the waiting- room. She was radiant and quite satisfied with herself. Oh, very well satisfied indeed! Her father held out a little flask to her in which was some kind of cordial, and I should have liked some of it too, for my mouth was dry and burning. Her mother then put a little woollen square over her chest before fastening her coat for her, and then all three of them went away. Several other girls and young men were called before my turn came.