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He looked at Madame Guerard from under his heavy eyelids, and she at once said: "No, she does not care for the stage; but she does not want to marry, and consequently she will have no money, as her father left her a hundred thousand francs which she can only get on her wedding-day.
I threw my arms round her neck, and we all four went away together Marie Lloyd, Madame Guerard, Mlle. de Brabender, and I. My mother had sent me word that she had gone on home. In the cab my "don't care" character won the day once more, and we chattered about every one. "Oh, how ridiculous such and such a person was!" "Did you see her mother's bonnet?"
You horrify me! Do go!" With this I left my friend to himself and his cruel invention, ashamed for a moment. His efforts have not succeeded, though, according to his wishes. The remains of the poor lad were put into a small coffin, and Madame Guerard and I followed the pauper's hearse to the grave.
When he came to see us the day after my return home, I remained talking with him for a time in the drawing-room, and confided my intentions to him. He quite approved, and said that my intercourse with my mother would be all the more agreeable because of this separation. I took a flat in the Rue Duphot, quite near to my mother, and Madame Guerard undertook to have it furnished for me.
"Oh, but, my dear Sarah," said the sweet woman, "the ambulance flag is waving so high above it that there could be no mistake. If it were struck it would be purposely, and that would be abominable." "But, Guerard," I replied, "why should you expect these execrable enemies of ours to be better than we are ourselves? Did we not behave like savages at Berlin in 1806?"
Madame Guerard was just beginning to tell her about the drama of the hair when my name echoed through the room: "Mademoiselle Chara Bernhardt!" It was Leautaud, who later on was prompter at the Comedie Francaise, and who had a strong accent peculiar to the natives of Auvergne. "Mademoiselle Chara Bernhardt!"
I heard a woman's voice say, "Poor child; she ought not to have been allowed to compete. She has an atrocious cold, her nose is running and her face is swollen." I finished my scene, made my bow, and went away in the midst of very feeble and spiritless applause. I walked like a somnambulist, and on reaching Madame Guerard and Mlle. de Brabender fainted away in their arms.
I trembled as I took it up, for I never received any letters. With great difficulty, by my night-light, I managed to read the following words, written by Madame Guerard: "When you had gone to sleep the Duc de Morny sent word to your mother that Camille Doucet had just assured him that you were to be engaged at the Comedie Francaise.
I rubbed my sleepy eyes, and could not quite understand the meaning of this invasion. "My dear Sarah," said Madame Guerard, coming to me and kissing me, "don't imagine that this day, your fete day, could be forgotten by those who love you." "Oh," I exclaimed, "is it the 23rd?" "Yes, and here is the first of the remembrances from the absent ones."
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