Sarah Bernhardt.
By Jules Bastien-Lepage.
Dating from this time, Bastien’s success, both artistic and monetary, was secure.
His first care was to let his friends at Damvillers join in his good fortune.
They had been with him in his difficulties, they should now share his pleasure, and he brought them to Paris in the summer of 1879. He was happy to return to them, in all sorts of kind attentions, a little of what he owed them for so much affectionate devotion. He was grateful to them for having believed in him in his time of difficulty as a beginner, and he experienced a tender pride in being able to show them that they had not been mistaken.
When he received his first important gains he took his mother to a large shop and had silks for dresses spread out before her. “Show some more,” cried he. “I want Mama to choose the best.” And the poor little mother, frightened at the sight of black satin that could stand upright of itself, in vain protested that “she would never wear that.” She was obliged to give way.
He took his grandfather through the avenues of the Bois and the principal boulevards, expecting that he would be delighted; but in this direction his zealous efforts failed utterly. The old man remained indifferent to the splendours of Parisian luxury and to the scenery in the theatres. At the opera he yawned openly, declaring that all this commotion was deafening, and he went back to Damvillers determined that they should never take him away again.
After having seen his people into the train for their return, he set out for England, where he painted the Prince of Wales.
Decorated in the following July, he hastened to Damvillers to show his red ribbon to his friends, and also to go on with the work he loved best.
He had managed to arrange a studio in the spacious and lofty granaries of the paternal house, and there he worked hard.
He hoped at last to realize his dream, so long deferred, of painting a Jeanne d’Arc. He had meditated much on this subject, and we have often spoken of it.