Connecticut western news., 1895-07-04
IN THE GREENROOM.

you know, perfectly we'll, Fabreo, the deputy with the golden beard who has so young an air despite his 40 years half opened the door of the dressing room without knocking and called out, "CuckooP'
 He was not little disappointed to find the dressing room empty. Then Constance, the old dresser, came out from behind the screen:
 "If monsieur will have the goodness to be seated, madame will return in five minutes 1"
 Fabreo let himself drop into 2 tapes tried armchair, crossed his legs, tapped his patent leather boots with the tip of his cane and lost himself in reflections, while the old woman arranged the lit tie things on the dressing table
 After all, for what had he come here? Not from love. Hardly from de- sire. One day, when he had urged his claims she had said to him, with show of reason:
 'Listen, Fabrec. You are very nice, but have 40, 900 francs of debts, and for you the beautiful days of Panama are finished. Come here to gossip when you will, but we will never be other than good comrades. Frankly she was right. Nevertheless an attraction drew him always in that direction, content to obtain here and there little privileges. He amused himself near this woman of profession so beautiful and gay and laughed heartily at her sallies of wit and oynicism, and then again it was necessary to kill time. While meditat- ing Fabreo regarded mechanically the dresser and was brusquely dragged from his reverie by the face of the little old woman that he saw reflected in the glass What ruinl What heart break ing ugliness! Dry as stick, wrinkled as winter apple, scanty hair the color of ashes and eyes like the dead. To think she had been woman, perhaps pretty, doubtless lovedl
 She ought to be 65 years old, and Fabreo, who was kind hearted, pitied this lamentable old woman working un- til the end. He felt also disgust to see this sorceress in her shubby black touch ing the laces, the silver brushes, the blond tortoise shell combs and all the delicate and perfumed objects de luxe which shone on the dressing table of the actress. Suddenly the door opened, and Sophie Cherubin appeared with a rose in her hair The beautiful brune was as fresh bouquet and sparkling with youth, beauty and the pretense of effrontery.
 "Ah, Fabreo," cried she joyously, ''you have come just in time. We are going to give little farce at benefit at the Gaite. They will call for us soon, but in the meantime we will talk while Constance prepares my things. Sit down and be good. !" The dresser had already passed behind l the screen. They joked, and, according to her wont, Sophie began to tease the handsome deputy about the number of his successes in tho theatrical world. ! Was it still true his devotion to the singer at the Nouveaute'sp But Fabrec was discreet. The veritable lady, s man IS always so, because he loves women for themselves and not from silly van l ity. To Sophie's questions he responded only by pleasantries, admitting nothing.
 She became little vexed. How sus- picious he wasl Truly2 She had never been able to make him recount one of his successes behind the scenes-not onel "Eh bien, ma ohere," responded Fabreo, smiling, ''sinoe you are 50 tena- oious on this point I am going to tell you about my first passion"
 For an actress?"
 "Yes, only warn you it did not hap. pen in the Rue de Riohelieu and the heroine was not a societaire. l was Is years old, had just begun my law studies, but was naif and timid. One evening I went to the little, theater oi the Gobelins, where 1 was overcomt with love for the young premiere Blanche Lilas, the moment she appear ed on the stage Was she young? Wa she pretty? I ask myself today when know that the beauty of an actress ma. disappear with some cold cream and tw' towels, and that ingenues general, have Q son who is lieutenant of oaval ry or sous prefet. But then Mile Blanche Lilas appeared to me the mos fascinating of women. no longer live' but to dream of her and then to admir- her upon the boards of the Gobelins, tn Montparnasse or Grenelle-for the troo moved about. sold all my old books t the stallkeeper in the Rue Cujas, an thanks to Blanche Lilas know all tn plays of that day. An, she was charm ing in Polderl She is the only woma for whom have ever made verses. The were execrable, but sincere, and hay never understood how had the audaoit to send them to her. The vacation wa
 spent with my family in the country
 passed it counting the days, and whe
 returned to Paris l ran to the Gobe
 lins, then to Montparnasse, then to Gre
 nelle. The name of my idol did not fig
 ure upon one of the posters. The am iety, the frightful anxiety, that fel
 gave me the courage to enter the theate
 and make inquiries, when found ths
 Mile. Blanche Lilas had not been re-er
 gagged, and that they did not know whs
 had become of her. Eh bien, ma cher
 annie, believe me, if you will, that ths day felt the most miserable, the mo' g bitter grief of love, and for long month
 was not consoled.
 "And is that all?" asked the com,
 dienne.
 "Without doubt
 "Fabrec, you are hoa1er, and ye ] mock me with your souvenirs of yo' I student days"- n Suddenly the comedienne's maid |
 terrupted them, saying:
 I Madame, madame, the monsieu
 and the ladies are getting into the ca
 riages. They are waiting only for you.
 And the voice of the manager was hea
 up the stairway:
 "Mlle. Cherubin Quick We a
 latep'
 In a moment the waiting woman h