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L'autre, her latest notable stage success, brings us down to 1870, when it was acted at the Gymnase, Madame Sarah Bernhardt impersonating the heroine. This not very agreeable play is derived, with material alterations, from Madame Sand's agreeable novel La Confession d'une jeune Fille, published in 1864.
"Answer me ah, you cannot answer!" teasingly added the Judge, who loved his Clerk of the Court, and had great amusement out of his discomfiture. "You are convicted. At an age when a man should be settling down, you are gallivanting with the wife of a philosopher." "Monsieur monsieur le juge!" protested M. Fille with slowly heightening colour. "I am innocent, yes, altogether.
I am at least not wrong in affirming that in the accent with which the mamma especially if she be of the well-rounded order alluded to above speaks of Ma fille there is a kind of sacerdotal dignity. After this came two or three pictures of quite another complexion pictures of which a long green valley, almost in the centre of France, makes the general setting.
He saw the blow, and drew back with an exclamation. Carmen turned to him. "Farewell has been said, M'sieu' Fille," she remarked in a voice sombre with rage and despair, and she went to the door leading to the street. Masson had winced at the blow, but he remained silent. He knew not what to say or do. M. Fille hastily followed Carmen to the door. "You are going home, dear madame?
"I do not like the m'sieu. I shall call you 'David'!" She rose out of the hammock suddenly and dropped her needles and lace work into the little basket. "I have forgotten something. It is for you to eat when it comes dinner-time, m'sieu I mean David. So I must turn fille de cuisine for a little while. That is what St. Pierre sometimes calls me, because I love to play at cooking.
You get us between the upper and the nether mill stones. You are cosmopolitan; M. Jean Jacques Barbille is a provincial; and you, because he has soul enough to forget business for a moment and to speak of things that matter more than money and business, you grind him into powder." M. Mornay shook his head and lighted his cigar again. "There you are wrong, Maitre Fille.
This work was marvellously effective, and a great future as a sculptress was foretold for the "divine Sara." At the Salon of 1878 she exhibited two portrait busts in bronze. This remarkable woman is a painter also, and exhibited a picture called "La jeune Fille et la Mort."
It may be recorded that no affair of honor in Louisiana ever left a braver little widow. When Joseph and his doctor pretended to play chess together, but little more than a half-century had elapsed since the fille
But as Jean Jacques walked away with his little book of philosophy in his pocket, and the bird-cage in his hand, someone sobbed. M. Fille turned and saw. It was Virginie Poucette. Fortunately for Virginie other women did the same, not for the same reason, but out of a sympathy which was part of the scene.
"Mais seulement il se transpose Et passant de la forme au son, Trouvant dans la métamorphose La jeune fille et le garçon." Transpose, a word never before used except in musical application, and now for the first time applied to material form, and with a beauty-giving touch that Phidias might be proud of.
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