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Updated: June 24, 2025
At Paris I went to a quiet hotel in the Cite Bergere. I was utterly alone; no relation or friend came with me to my marriage. Somebody told me a best man was necessary, so I asked a French acquaintance to be best man, and he consented. The morning of my wedding there was a garcon brushing the waxed oak floor on the landing near my door.
Folliott though perhaps he could imagine a little; and it was probably at this minute that, having definitely settled to a position, and precisely in his very own tapestry bergère, the one with the delicious little spectral "subjects" on the back and seat, he partly exhaled, and yet managed partly to keep to himself, the deep resigned sigh of a general comprehension.
The clocks were just striking twelve as I passed under the archway leading to the Cité Bergère. "Tiens!" said the fat concierge, as she gave me my key and my candle. "Monsieur has perhaps been to the theatre this evening? No! to the country to the fête at Courbevoie! Ah, then, I'll be sworn that M'sieur has had plenty of fun!" But had I had plenty of fun? That was the question.
Even now I cannot hear "Nous n'irons plus an bois," or "Il pleut, il pleut, bergère" without my heart beating rather more quickly than is its wont. There can be no doubt that but for the fatal vice which held me fast, I should have been in love with Noémi two or three years later; but I was a slave to reasoning, and my whole time was devoted to religious dialectics.
The chains with which the dancer of the Folies Bergere bound him had been strong; his hot youth had fallen victim to the charms of a face and figure that would have enslaved more experienced men.
Clinch once more brought the plebeian aroma of heated tram-cars and muddy street-crossings into the violet-scented atmosphere of her cousin's drawing-room. "Well," she said, tossing a damp bundle of proof into the corner of a silk-cushioned bergere, "I've read it at last and I'm not so awfully shocked!" Mrs.
Ah, Major Okewood!" Nur-el-Din sank into a bergere chair beside her great mirror. "There are too many in this room," she cried, "there is no air! Lazarro, Ramiro, all of you, go outside, my friends!" As Madame's entourage surged out, Strangwise said: "I hear you are leaving the Palaceum, Marcelle!" He spoke so low that Mr. Mackwayte and Barbara, who were talking to Desmond, did not hear.
It was a simple nursery melody that Joyselle played: "Il etait une bergère, hé ron ron ron, petit pa-ta-pon " She had known it all her life, but to Tommy, who had always sternly refused to have anything to do with the French governesses his mother had got for him, it was new.
He told Alphonse nothing of the occurrence; on the contrary, he proposed that they should apply for two vacant places in the Credit Lyonnais. Alphonse was quite willing, for he loved change, and the splendid new banking establishment on the Boulevard seemed to him far more attractive than the dark offices in the Rue Bergere. So they removed to the Credit Lyonnais on the first of May.
Oftentimes there were real riots. But we heard there for the first time the overture of Manfred, Mendelssohn's Symphony in A minor, and the overture to Tannhauser. The modern French school found the doors in the Rue Bergère closed to them, but they were welcomed with open arms at the Chaussée d'Antin. Among them were Reber, Gounod, and Gouvy, and even beginners like Georges Bizet and myself.
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