"But, dear lady——" said I to her, "it was only
among ourselves and as one would play at children's games, that we amused ourselves so; we should lose all our spontaneity if we undertook to be serious about it."
They begged and they insisted, but we remained firm and unmoved. We asserted that we considered them all as our guests, that we ought to receive and entertain them, and that they must excuse us for not being able to do it in a Café.
At this moment someone opened for us an empty room, turned on the lights, and all these gay people, very much pleased, went in there, followed by the surprised and admiring gaze of the public. The ladies loosened their evening wraps and revealed their bare shoulders and light costumes. The men were in evening coats.
Many of the persons present we hardly knew, and at first we were a little ill at ease. But someone ordered tea, someone else champagne, the women lighted their Russian cigarettes, as slender as toothpicks, and the momentary awkwardness vanished. Count von Berghem, a man with very fascinating manners, of whom I know nothing more than his name, entered into a discussion with Schuré and Servais upon the analogies which exist between the Gods of Edda, from whom Wagner has taken his heroes, and the Gods of Olympus, between Wotan and Jupiter.
The Countess Muchanoff seemed determined to reconquer Villiers, who escaped from her as long as possible, but she made such gracious advances to him, she expressed such a lively admiration for his talent and his mind, that he regained all his assurance.
In fact, this rather unusual overture, this unexpected invasion, became a very charming and cordial event. The conclusion of the episode revealed Villiers' character: he was no longer crestfallen at having seated himself upon the piano and allowed his feet to dangle, he only regretted that he did not have his Maltese cross in his pocket on this occasion, so that he could pin it to his waistcoat.
XI
Our friends wished very much to show us the model of the Semper theatre that Wagner had charged us to go and see, and which was very seldom shown. A sort of basement in the Royal Residence served as a place of concealment for this very pretty miniature theatre—modelled in plaster, and standing upon a large table of white wood. Greatly interested, we circled about the little edifice, the plan of which is so rational and so well adapted to its purpose—and it saddened us to think of Wagner's frustrated hopes and bitter disappointment at having to give up his plan for constructing a model theatre.