She was just my dear sister's devoted friend; her petticoat hem was still some inches from the ground, and her hair in a plait all down her back....
Girlish innocence and purity incarnate—that is what she seemed; and what she was. "La plus forte des forces est un cœur innocent," said Victor Hugo—and if you translate this literally into English, it comes to exactly the same, both in rhythm and sense.
When Barty sold out, he first thought he would like to go on the stage, but it turned out that he was too tall to play anything but serious footmen.
Then he thought he would be a singer. We used to go to the opera at Drury Lane, where they gave in English a different Italian opera every night;—and this was always followed by Acis and Galatea.
We got our seats in the stalls every evening for a couple of weeks, through the kindness of Mr. Hamilton Braham, whom Barty knew, and who played Polyphemus in Handel's famous serenata.
I remember our first night; they gave Masaniello, which I had never seen; and when the tenor sang, "Behold how brightly breaks the morning," it came on us both as a delicious surprise—it was such a favorite song at Brossard's—"amis! la matinée est belle...." Indeed, it was one of the songs Barty sang on the boulevard for the poor woman, six or seven years back.
The tenor, Mr. Elliot Galer, had a lovely voice; and that was a moment never to be forgotten.
Then came Acis and Galatea, which was so odd and old‑fashioned we could scarcely sit it out.