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Even here, in faraway Kentucky, I can shut my eyes and see the Lady of Dreams as plainly as if she were coming out of the Bristol or the Ritz to step into her automobile, while the Grande Mademoiselle is merely a cloud of clothes and words that for me mean nothing at all. I once passed a week, day by day, roaming through the Musee Carnavalet.
With this she made a profound bow, and withdrew. When she had gone there was an absolute silence; and then the King laughed, an uneasy, foolish laugh. "And all this because I want to borrow a few stones for the masque!" he exclaimed as he thrust the box into the hands of one of his gentleman. "Take this, Carnavalet!"
They remain in my memory as a confusion of bad music, crowds, motor-cars and champagne of which Poor Jr. was a distributing centre. He could never be persuaded to the Louvre, the Carnavalet, or the Luxembourg; in truth, he seldom rose in time to reach the museums, for they usually close at four in the afternoon.
"Why, the Queen left it to her waiting-woman, with secret instructions to forward it to Count Fersen. After being piously preserved in the count's family, it has been, for the last five years, in a glass case " "A glass case?" "In the Musee Carnavalet, quite simply." "When will the museum be open?" "At twenty minutes from now, as it is every morning."
The Galerie de Cerfs, into which Carnavalet took us, was all that remained in the modern Chateau of the old hunting-lodge and fortress of the Kings of France, and, despite the trophies of the chase and tapestries that hung to its walls, it still retained the grim and forbidding aspect of the past.
Yes! on the whole we might easily say that she was exquisite, even though we did not admit that she was beautiful. Painter David has made a sketch of her; we have all seen it at the Musee Carnavalet, and all wondered why that charming, if irregular, little face made such an impression of sadness. There are five acts in "Le Misanthrope," during which Celimene is almost constantly on the stage.
After which I hang up the keys, which are as big as the historic key of the Bastille, which you may remember to have seen at the Musee Carnavalet. Then I close and bolt all the shutters downstairs. I do it systematically every night because I promised not to be foolhardy. I always grin, and feel as if it were a scene in a play.
In spite of these little clouds, the old love is never dimmed; we are constantly bewildered with the inexhaustible riches of a heart which gives so lavishly and really asks so little for itself. The Hotel de Carnavalet was one of the social centers of the latter part of the century, but it was the source of no special literature and of no new diversions.
The sculptured portals and time-stained walls of the Hotel de Carnavalet are still alive with the memories of these brilliant reunions and the famous people who shone there two hundred years ago.
As an instance of what a paralytic was capable I quoted Couthon, member of the National Convention and the Committee of Public Safety. You can see his chair, not very unlike mine, in the Musee Carnavalet in Paris. Perhaps that is where I blundered. The idea of a shrieking revolutionary in Whitehall must have sent a cold shiver down their spines.
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