“Three of them are, my dear fellow; I swear that those three are _figurantes_. The Swiss is at one of the boulevard theatres, it is true, but she has a bewitching leg.--I have brought these ladies in their stage costumes,” Daréna continued, addressing Chérubin, “because they promised to give you a slight specimen of their talent. Come, my goddesses, give us a pretty _pas de quatre_ for the young marquis, who has no idea of what is to be seen at the Opéra. I realize that this isn’t as convenient a place for dancing as the stage; the floor isn’t parqueted; but you will have all the more credit.” “It isn’t even tiled!” cried the Swiss, looking at her feet; “how do you expect us to slide on such a floor? No, thanks! it’s too much work! We shall come down on our backsides!” “Ha! ha! very pretty! very pretty!” cried Daréna, affecting to laugh heartily in order to lessen the effect produced by the Swiss girl’s expression; “you must excuse madame; she isn’t a Parisian and she doesn’t know our language very well; she doesn’t understand the comparative value of words.” “Tibullus, Petronius and Ovid sometimes employed the equivalent,” said Monsieur Gérondif, perpetrating an immense smile, so that the four dancers might see all his teeth. “I ain’t a Parisian!” cried Mademoiselle Malvina; “well, upon my word! I was born on Rue Mouffetard--just where my mother sells Brie cheese.” Daréna trod on her foot and whispered to her: “If you don’t hold your tongue, Malvina, I’ll put you in the cab, you shan’t have any milk, and you shan’t come to the dinner.” The Swiss held her tongue, and the count, taking a kit from his pocket, prepared to play. “I’ll be the orchestra,” he said; “I have thought of everything, you see. Come, mesdames, ready.” Meanwhile, Monsieur d’Hurbain went to Monfréville and said to him in an undertone: “Really, Monsieur le Comte de Daréna has employed an expedient which--I don’t know whether I ought to assent to this. His scheme seems to me rather shady.” “Why so?” rejoined Monfréville. “Daréna is cleverer than we are. I think that his method of seduction is all right. After all, the young fellow would go to the Opéra, if he went to Paris; so what is the harm of letting him see here what he would see on the stage? In fact, it seems to me that the illusion is much less.” “Very well,” said the notary, resuming his seat; “after all, the end justifies the means.” The four dancers were on the point of beginning their performance, when Nicole appeared with milk and cups. They pounced upon the latter and declared that they proposed to have something to drink first. While they were drinking, Chérubin kept his eyes constantly on those four women, who were so utterly unlike all the women he had ever before seen. Monsieur Gérondif poured the milk for the dancers with his own hands. “Assuredly I bear a resemblance to Ganymede at this moment,” he said to them. “He served Jupiter, I serve Terpsichore and her sisters.”