"Mme. Styvens has just given it to me." The Duke understood the embarrassment the child felt--not yet eighteen, and forced to extricate herself from nets set by such expert hands as best she could. At half-past two the great hall was crowded by women vying with each other in their beauty. It was a magnificent sight! Xavier Flamand went to his stand to conduct the orchestra. He was heartily applauded and the spectacle commenced. More than two thousand people had come together for the fête. The hall could only accommodate eight hundred. Other chairs had been placed on the terrace. The tableaux began. The society assembled, appreciated a form of art which is pleasing and not fatiguing, which charms without disturbing. The tableau of Andromeda was frantically applauded. The men could not admire enough the suppleness of Esperance's lovely body, the whiteness of her bare feet with their pink arches, the gold of her hair floating like a nimbus around the head of Andromeda, waved by the breeze as the stage turned. The women admired the Duke, so very beautiful in his gold and silver armour. "How splendid the Duke is," remarked the Countess to Albert. "No one could have a prouder bearing. If I were in your place, my son, I should be jealous." "Perhaps I am," said the Count, smiling. The "Judgment of Paris" had the same success. Everyone waited for "Europa," and many were really disappointed. A hundred reasons were given for its withdrawal, and none of them the true one. The philosopher and his wife were sitting with Genevieve behind the Styvens. Sometimes the Countess would turn around to compliment François, and the unfortunate man, so frank, whose whole life had never known deceit, suffered cruelly. There was an intermission to set the stage for the concert. The guests pressed around the Styvens's to express their admiration for Esperance, in the most dithyrambic, the most superlative terms. The concert began. Albert had to go upon the stage to play the Liszt duet with Esperance. He begged François Darbois to take his place beside his mother. When the curtain went up after the quartette of "Rigoletto," Esperance and Albert were seated on the long piano stool. Loud applause greeted them. The Duke was talking to Maurice in the wings and seemed a little nervous. He envied Albert at that moment for his superiority as a musician. When they finished, a great tumult demanded an encore, but Esperance had come to the end of her strength. As the public continued to applaud, Maurice and the Duke came forward to see why they did not raise the curtain. Esperance looked at the Duke. "Oh! no, please do not raise the curtain; my heart is beating so fast." Albert and the Duke supported her gently and she leaned upon them, her pretty head bending towards the Duke. "I feel confused."