Count Pourtales took me in to dinner. We were very glad to be neighbors. He was resting on his laurels, and I wanted to rest before getting mine (if I got any) this evening. We exchanged views on nervousness. He said he had been dreadfully nervous in the afternoon. I told him I was always nervous when I had to sing, and when I sang the first song I was hot and cold all over.
"Like Alboni," he said; "she has had to give up singing in opera, she had such stage-frights."
We thanked each other after finishing dinner for having been kind enough to have let the other alone.
The rain was still pouring in torrents when we returned to the salon. In spite of the many voices, we could still hear it pattering against the windows of the terrace. It was lucky there were some stars among us, as Monsieur de Lareinty had said, otherwise we would have seen none to-night.
At ten o'clock the "galaxy" went into the salle de musique, and the planets began to shine. First came Baroness Gourgaud, who attacked the "Mi-bémol Polonaise," of Chopin. Their Majesties settled themselves in their chairs with a look of heavenly resignation on their faces, which was reflected on those of most of the guests.
However, she played beautifully, more like an artiste than an amateur. The Empress went forward to her, holding out her hand, which the Baroness, bowing to the ground, kissed gratefully, feeling that she had covered herself with glory, as she really had.
Then Monsieur de V—— (our basso) sang "O Marguerite," from Faust, without the slightest voice, but with excellent intentions. Next, having the music under his hand, he continued and sang "Braga's Serenade," which he thought was more suited to his voice, though it is written, as you know, for a soprano. He sang the girl's part in a mysterious, husky, and sepulchral voice, and the angel's part weaker and feebler than any angel ever dreamed of.
I looked at the beautiful ceiling painted by Girodet, and to keep myself from going to sleep counted the legs of the angels, and tried to calculate how many legs belonged to each. Monsieur de V—— said his idea was to make the contrast very strong between the girl and the angel; he certainly succeeded!
Monsieur Dué played some of what he calls his "Sketches." "Il est si doué (gifted)," exclaimed Princess Metternich.
Every one was pleased; so was he.