amidst the noise of opening and shutting doors, and the buzz of conversation.
"Surely," said Albert, as the door of a box on the first circle opened, "that must be the Countess G."
"And who may she be, pray?" inquired Chateau-Renaud, carelessly.
"What a question! as if all the world did not know who the Countess G was."
"Ah, to be sure!" replied Chateau-Renaud; "I remember now your lovely Venetian, is it not?"
"Herself!"
At this moment the countess perceived Albert, and returned his salutation with a graceful smile.
"You are acquainted with her, it seems?" said Chateau-Renaud.
"Franz introduced me to her at Rome," replied Albert.
"Well, then, will you do as much for me in Paris as he did for you in Rome?"
"With much pleasure."
"Silence!" exclaimed the audience.
This manifestation on the part of the spectators of their wish to enjoy the music, produced not the slightest effect on the two young men, who continued talking.
"The countess was present at the races in the Champ-de-Mars," said Chateau-Renaud.
"To-day?"
"Yes."
"Bless me! I quite forgot the races. Did you bet?"
"Oh, merely a paltry fifty louis."
"And who was the winner?"
"Nautilus. I betted on him."
"But there were three races, were there not?"
"Yes; there was the prize given by the Jockey Club a gold cup. you know and a very singular circumstance occurred about that race."
"What was it?"
"Silence!" again vociferated the music-loving part of the audience.
"Why, that it was gained by a horse and rider utterly unknown on the course."
"Is that possible?"
"True as day. The fact was, nobody had observed a horse entered by the name of Vampa, or that of a jockey styled Job, when, at the last moment, a splendid roan, mounted by a jockey about as big as your fist, presented themselves at the starting-post. They were obliged to stuff at least twenty pounds weight of shot in the small rider's pockets to
