ile a success in Paris is considered an important
conquest, a failure counts for little. The firm establishment of the
"Claque," which is so well described by Mr. Sutherland Edwards, and the
proverbial caprice of Parisian audiences, are sufficient to take the
edge off of defeat. At the termination of her engagement in Paris, in
1883, Nordica married Mr. Frederick A. Gower, who shortly afterwards was
supposed to have lost his life while attempting to cross the English
Channel in a balloon. This matter remained a mystery for many years,
for, while there was no doubt that he started on the perilous journey,
nothing was ever after seen or heard of him or of the balloon. The
question of his death, therefore, remained in doubt, and when, after a
lapse of more than a dozen years, it was announced that Madame Nordica
was about to enter the bonds of matrimony a second time, she suffered
much annoyance from the rumors which were spread about to the effect
that Mr. Gower was in various parts of the world. These rumors never
proved to have any foundation, and, except for the annoyance, must have
been somewhat flattering as evidence of the interest taken in the prima
donna by the public.

In 1887 Nordica sang in Berlin, and made a complete capture of the
Berlinese, a most unusual achievement for an American prima donna. She
also appeared in London at Drury Lane, and by the sweetness and
freshness of her voice, and by the alternating charm and intensity of
her style as an actress, she won a firm and lasting hold on the British
public. She now enjoyed the most marked social attentions, and sang at a
state concert at Buckingham Palace before an audience composed of
princes, princesses, dukes, Indian royalties, etc. The Princess of Wales
came forward and thanked her, the prince added his word, and her triumph
was complete. The climax was reached, however, when she was commanded by
the queen to sing in Westminster Abbey. She sang "Let the bright
Seraphim," which selection has for years been the standard for state
occasions. Indeed, it may be said that when a prima donna has been
commanded to sing "Let the bright Seraphim," in Westminster Abbey, she
has achieved the highest honor possible in England. Madame Albani has
exceeded this in having had the honor of lunching with the queen, but
this latter was more a tribute to her worth as a woman than as an
artist.

One of Nordica's greatest assumptions has been that of the role of Elsa
in "L