Madame Darbois trembled. She was familiar with her daughter's nervous,
high-strung temperament. In a tone of more authority than Esperance
had ever heard her use, "Come, child, be quick, we are losing time,"
she said, "I have all the necessary papers, come."

They found at the Conservatoire several women, who had arrived before
them, waiting to have their daughters entered for the course. Four
youths were standing in a separate group, staring at the young girls
beside their mothers. In a corner of the room was a little office,
where the official, charged with receiving applications, was
ensconced. He was a man of fifty, gruff, jaundiced from liver trouble,
looking down superciliously at the girls whose names he had just
received. When Madame Darbois entered with Esperance, the
distinguished manner of the two ladies caused a little stir. The group
of young men drew nearer. Madame Darbois looked about, and seeing an
empty bench near a window, went towards it with her daughter. The sun,
falling upon Esperance's blonde hair, turned it suddenly into an
aureola of gold. A murmur as of admiration broke from the spectators.

"Now there is someone," murmured a big fat woman with her hands
stuffed into white cotton gloves, "who may be sure of her future!"

The official raised his head, dazzled by the radiant vision.
Forgetting the lack of courtesy he had shown those who had preceded
her, he advanced towards Madame Darbois and, raising his black velvet
cap, "Do you wish to register for the entrance examinations?" he said
to Esperance.

She indicated her mother with an impatient movement of her little