NINETTE. Well, as to that, he must be tall, NINON (touching her cheek suspiciously.) Has he a scar on this side? NINETTE. Hush! Someone is coming. No; a thrush: NINON. Go on. NINETTE. Then he must fence, (ah, look, 'tis gone !) NINON. Shall I? Then mine has black, black hair. . . I mean he should have; then an air Half sad, half noble; features thin; A little royale on the chin; And such a pale, high brow. And then, He is a prince of gentlemen ; He, too, can ride and fence, and write No worse for that On this old turquoise reliquaire, My great,-great Grandmother's !!— (After a pause.) I feel so sad. NINETTE ! "GOOD-NIGHT, BABETTE!" "Si vieillesse pouvait !—" SCENE.-A small neat Room. In a high Voltaire Chair sits a white-haired old Gentleman. MONSIEUR VIEUXBOIS. ВАВЕТТЕ. M. VIEUXBOIS (turning querulously). DAY BABETTE! I say! BABETTE !—Babette ! BABETTE (entering hurriedly). Coming, M'sieu'! If M'sieu' speaks M. VIEUXBOIS. Where have you been? BABETTE. Why M'sieu' knows: April !... Ville-d'Avray !... Ma'am'selle ROSE! M. VIEUXBOIS. Ah! I am old,—and I forget. Was the place growing green, BABETTE? ВАВЕТТЕ. But of a greenness !-yes, M'sieu' ! (Lifting her apron to her eyes.) This poor Ma'am'selle! M. VIEUXBOIS. You're a good girl, BABETTE, but she,— She was an Angel, verily. Sometimes I think I see her yet Stand smiling by the cabinet; And once, I know, she peeped and laughed Betwixt the curtains Where's the draught? (She gives him a cup.) Now I shall sleep, I think, BABETTE ;— Sing me your Norman chansonnette. BABETTE (sings). 'Once at the Angelus (Ere I was dead), Angels all glorious Came to my Bed ;- Crowned on the Head." |