cheery voices and gay laughter.

The poor young baron, to whom all this had been intensely disagreeable
at first, became aware of a strange feeling of comfort and pleasure
stealing over him, to which, after a short struggle, he finally yielded
himself entirely. Isabelle, Serafina, even the pretty soubrette, seemed
to him, unaccustomed as he was to feminine beauty and grace, like
goddesses come down from Mount Olympus, rather than mere ordinary
mortals. They were all very pretty, and well fitted to turn heads far
more experienced than his. The whole thing was like a delightful dream
to him; he almost doubted the evidence of his own senses, and every few
minutes found himself dreading the awakening, and the vanishing of the
entrancing vision.

When all was ready de Sigognac led Isabelle and Serafina to the table,
placing one on each side of him, with the pretty soubrette opposite.
Mme. Leonarde, the duenna of the troupe, sat beside the pedant,
Leander, Matamore, his majesty the tyrant, and Scapin finding places
for themselves. The youthful host was now able to study the faces of his
guests at his ease, as they sat round the table in the full light of the
candles burning upon it in the two theatrical candelabra. He turned his
attention to the ladies first, and it perhaps will not be out of place
to give a little sketch of them here, while the pedant attacks the
gigantic game pasty.

Serafina, the "leading lady" of the troupe, was a handsome young woman
of four or five and twenty, who had quite a grand air, and was as
dignified and graceful withal as any veritable noble dame who shone
at the court of his most gracious majesty, Louis XIII. She had an oval
face, slightly aquiline nose, large gray eyes, bright red lips--the