Page:The Bohemians of the Latin Quarter.djvu/279

ugly, to be sure, and very sad-looking, but he might furnish me the means of going to England without being sea-sick.”

The Englishman having taken the tickets, had their purport explained to him a second time; he then asked the price.

“The boxes are sixty francs each, and there are ten there; but no hurry,” she added, seeing the Englishman take out his pocket-book: “I hope that as we are neighbors, this is not the last time I shall have the honor of a visit from you.”

“I do not like to run up bills,” replied Mr. Birne; and drawing from the pocket-book a thousand-franc note, he laid it on the table and slid the tickets into his pocket.

“I will give you your change,” said Dolores, opening a little drawer.

“Never mind,” said the Englishman; “the rest will do for a drink;” and he went off leaving Dolores thunderstruck at his last words.

“For a drink!” she exclaimed; “what a clown! I will send him back his money.”

But her neighbor’s rudeness had only irritated the epidermis of her vanity; reflection calmed her; she thought that a thousand francs made a very nice “pile,” after all, and that she had already put up with impertinences at a cheaper rate.

“Bah!” said she to herself; “it won’t do to be so proud. No one was by, and this is my washerwoman’s month. And this Englishman speaks so badly, perhaps he only meant to pay me a compliment.”

So she pocketed her bank-note joyfully.

But that night after the theatre she returned home furious. Mr. Birne had made no use of the tickets, and the ten boxes had remained vacant.

Thus on appearing on the stage, the unfortunate béné-