s very fond of me, asked Carvalho for
a libretto for me. Carvalho gave me _Le Timbre d'Argent_, which he
didn't know what to do with as several musicians had refused to touch
it. There were good reasons for this, for, despite an excellent
foundation for the music, the libretto had serious faults. I demanded
that Barbier and Carre, the authors, should make important changes,
which they did at once. Then, I retired to the heights of Louveciennes
and in two months wrote the score of the five acts which the work had at
first.

I had to wait two years before Carvalho would consent to hear the music.
Finally, worn out by my importunities, they decided to get rid of me, so
Carvalho invited me to dine with him and to bring my score. After dinner
I went to the piano. Carvalho was on one side and Madame Carvalho on the
other. Both were very pleasant and charming, but the real meaning of
this friendliness did not escape me.

They had no doubts about what awaited them. Both really loved music and
little by little they fell under the spell. Serious attention succeeded
the false friendliness. At the end they were enthusiastic. Carvalho
declared that he would have the study of the work begun as soon as
possible; it was a masterpiece; it would have a great success, but to
assure this success, Madame Carvalho must sing the principal part.

Now the principal part in _Le Timbre d'Argent_ is that of a dancer and
the singer's part is greatly subordinate. To remedy this they decided to
develop the part. Barbier invented a pretty situation to bring in the
passage _Bonheur est chose legere_, but that wasn't enough. Barbier and
Carre racked their brains without finding any solution of the
difficulty, for on the stage as elsewhere there are problems that can't
be solved.

Between times they tried to find a dancer of the first rank. Finally,
they found one who had recently left the Opera, although still at the
height of her beauty and talent. And they continued to seek a way to
make the part of Helene worthy of Madame Carvalho.

The famous director had one mania. He wanted to collaborate in every
work he staged. Even a work hallowed by time and success had to bear
his mark; much greater were his reasons for interpolating in a new work.
He would announce brusquely that the period or the country in which the
action of the work took place must be changed. He tormented us for a
long time to make the dancer into a singer on his wife's account. La