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Nash has rendered us the great service of introducing us to Madame Carré, and I'm sure we're immensely indebted to him," Mrs. Rooth said to her daughter with an air affectionately corrective. "But what good does that do us?" the girl asked, smiling at the actress and gently laying her finger-tips upon her hand.
"Never mind I'll look after them," Sherringham laughed. "And how can Madame Carré judge if the girl recites English?" "She's so intelligent that she could judge if she recited Chinese," Peter declared. "That's true, but the jeune Anglaise recites also in French," said Gabriel Nash. "Then she isn't stupid." "And in Italian, and in several more tongues, for aught I know."
A fourth maitresse I sometimes saw who seemed to come daily to teach needlework, or netting, or lace-mending, or some such flimsy art; but of her I never had more than a passing glimpse, as she sat in the CARRE, with her frames and some dozen of the elder pupils about her, consequently I had no opportunity of studying her character, or even of observing her person much; the latter, I remarked, had a very English air for a maitresse, otherwise it was not striking; of character I should think; she possessed but little, as her pupils seemed constantly "en revolte" against her authority.
Lee to marry us." "Oh, but that woult not do. We will keep them all alive till you are married. It woult neffer do to disappoint them all when we are all looking forward to it here." "Very well then, see you all keep alive." "And you will come to old Mr. Hamon's funeral?" "H'm! I don't know. We'll see, Mrs. Carré. We'd sooner be at our own wedding, you know, than at anybody else's funeral."
Finally, when he is tired of singing, he murmurs softly and regularly: "They don't know how that wretched knee hurts me... they don't know how it hurts me." Lerondeau, who is, and always will be, a little boy compared with Carre, is very poor in the matter of cries. But when he hears his complaints, he checks his own cries, Borrows them.
"Early in the morning, above Bonnet Carre, I asked several persons on shore for some coffee, but most of them seemed too much excited to attend to this pressing want of mine. At last a gentleman who spoke French got his wife to go and get me a cup of coffee, after drinking which I felt greatly refreshed.
"I know what it will come to: Madame Carré will want to keep me." This was one of the felicities she presently threw off. "To keep you?" "For the French stage. She won't want to let you have me." She said things of that kind, astounding in self-complacency, the assumption of quick success.
Mon Gyu, what does he want there at this time of day? And I said, 'Come away into bed, child, and don't catch your death of cold. You're half asleep and dreaming. There's no one out there. 'Yes, there is, said she, 'and it's Phil Carré.
And young Torode and I looked into one another's eyes and knew that we were not to be friends. What he saw amiss in me I do not know, but to me there was about him something overmasterful which roused in me a keen desire to master it, or thwart it. "You are but just home, then, M. Carré?" he asked. "This evening." "From ?" "From Florida last by way of New York." "Ah! Many ships about?"
"Faust," a grand opera in five acts, words by Barbier and Carré, founded upon Goethe's tragedy, was first produced at the Théâtre Lyrique, Paris, March 19, 1859, with the following cast of the principal parts: MARGUERITE Mme. MIOLAN-CARVALHO. SIEBEL Mlle. FAIVRE. FAUST M. BARBOT. VALENTIN M. REGNAL. MEPHISTOPHELES M. BALANQUÉ. MARTHA Mme.
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