The Argosy — page 87: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

74 Divided. just excited a roar of laughter and ‘“‘ Bravas,” when a sudden commo- tion and the sound of angry voices in loud altercation arrested everyone’s attention. ‘What an uproar!” exclaimed d’Edmond. ‘‘Whoisit? Evidently some one whose excitement is too much for him. I wish he would finish his cup elsewhere, instead of forcing his hilarity into the midst of our respectable society. Hold! What is that he is saying ? Mademoiselle Lenard—your attention.” As the voices drew near, it was easy to recognise in one of them the fat and sonorous tones of the manager, Monsieur Lenard, speak- in an expostulatory if not imploring manner to some stranger who was either not himself or in a towering passion. The names of Mademoiselle Lenard and Madame de Kériadec were plainly audible in the discussion. In fact the intruder went farther than that, and in his increasing excitement used the more familiar title of Denise, which everyone knew to be Mademoiselle Lenard’s Christian name. «¢ Some adorer driven to frenzy,” laughed d’Edmond. ‘You must go and pacify him, mademoiselle.” ‘Nonsense! Why do they not send him away ? What can he want? { wish my uncle to take me home, but how can he do so before he is rid of the noisy interloper?” she replied carelessly... But she looked uneasy, and her laugh was forced and nervous. Madame de Fréville and Mademoiselle Clothilde had drawn near, and were glancing alternately at her and at the door. They felt instinctively, with secret satisfaction, that Mademoiselle Lenard was on the verge of a mauvais quart d’heure. By this time Monsieur Lenard had been driven, step by step, into »the green-room. He was a short, fat little man, with a tightly-screwed black moustache, which gave an air of ferocity to an otherwise passive and good-humoured countenance ; and as he retreated back- --wards in undignified trepidation, shaking his plump fist in impotent wrath at the young man who was forcing him along, the effect was so ludicrous that it provoked a burst of hilarity from the easily-amused company of the foyer. ‘ Hercules vanquishing a pigmy. ‘The game is not fair,” mocked d’Edmond. ‘Au secours!” Mademoiselle Lenard joined in the laugh; but it died quickly on her lips, giving place to a look of mingled anger, misery and astonishment, whilst her face, proud and defiant, turned as white as a sheet. The cause of this uproar was a young man, so tall and broad- Shouldered that with one hand he could have sent any of the dandies before him headlong out of the room. He was dressed in the roughest of provincial garbs—corduroy breeches and long boots ‘Stained with mud, a loose old felt hat on his head, and a heavy riding- whip in his hand. His face was red with anger, his blue eyes ablaze, CORNICLOOOKS (@) (E(0)