he
girls might have masters in various "accomplishments," and were living
in the _pension_ from motives of economy. On Sundays their brother, a
young naval officer, used to dine with them. With his pale, aristocratic
face, and with little side-whiskers, the high stock of his uniform, his
strapped trousers and narrow, arched feet, he was like a John Leech
drawing come to life. Then there was a large Frenchwoman, Madame la
Marquise de Quelquechose, who lent the lustre of her title and her
ancestral jewels to our _bourgeois_ board. At least, she said her jewels
were heirlooms, but her ancestors must have had a prophetic taste in
jewelry, as I often saw replicas of her ornaments in the shops of the
rue de Rivoli. An old Englishwoman completed our list of permanencies.
In spite of twenty years' residence in Paris, she would still ask for
"oon petty poo de pang" in a high, drawling voice. There were transients
of many nationalities, but these were our regular inmates.

An interesting man sometimes dined with us. Writing my mother about him
I say:

"Last night Mr. H---- dined here and told us many yarns about Sarah
Bernhardt. He said once when he was in California he was asked to meet
her and they all went on a hunting picnic together. She dropped her robe
when she got to the island where they had _dejeuner_, undoing a wide,
heavy, Egyptian gold and precious-stone belt, and appeared attired in a
man's velvet hunting-suit. He says she adores to talk _cancan_, and
referred to the manager as 'that _cochon_.' After breakfast, she threw
the champagne bottles far into the lake and shot them to pieces at the
first shot. The only posey thing she did was when she undid her belt and
threw it far across the road, and when he asked her if that was the way
she treated such beautiful things, she said that the man who gave it to
her was domestic!... It is colder than charity here at present, at least
I feel it so in the house. I shall start my fire today for the first
time. Yesterday I bought a bunch of violets, and do you know why? To
keep myself from buying chestnuts, which are bad for the voice. You see,
if I spent my _sous_ for violets I could not afford more for chestnuts.
Thus prevented I myself."

CHAPTER V

OPERATIC FRANCE VERSUS OPERATIC GERMANY

After a few months of strenuous endeavour on my part, I began to be a
little dissatisfied and restless. I saw clearly that in a year's time,
working at such pressure, I should