The program was settled out of hand. The private rehearsals began at once. Nevertheless the fear that I felt and that I have always had when I make a promise, that I may be ill when the moment for fulfilment comes, caused me more than one sleepless night.
"All's well that ends well," says the wisdom of the nations. I was wrong, as you will see, to torture myself through so many nights.
As I have said, no artist would have felt happy, if he had not shared in that evening by giving his generous assistance. Our valiant president, Adrian Bernheim, by a few words of patriotism induced all the professors of the Opéra orchestra to come and rehearse the various acts interspersed through the program at six twenty-five in the evening. Nobody dined; everyone kept the appointment.
To you all, my friends and confrères, my sincere thanks.
I cannot properly appraise this celebration in which I played so personal a part....
There is no circumstance in life, however beautiful or serious, without some incident to mar it or to provide a contrast.
All my friends wanted to give evidence of their enthusiasm by being present at the soirée at the Opéra. Among them was a faithful frequenter of the theaters who made a point of coming to express his regret at not being able to be present at this celebration. He had recently lost his uncle, who was a millionaire and whose heir he was.
I offered my condolences and he went.
What is funnier is that I was obliged to hear fortuitously the strange conversation about his uncle's funeral he had with the head undertaker.
"If," said the latter, "Monsieur wants a first class funeral, he will have the entire church hung in black and with the arms of the deceased, the Opéra orchestra, the leading singers, the most imposing catafalque, according to the price."