The afternoon came. De Lagrenée, according to his custom, was entertaining the company at the house of Mme. Lobligeois with his views on artistic subjects, when the door opened without warning and Sarah swept in, followed by that cohort of faithful, gay young idolators whom she termed her “performing seals.”
As had been arranged beforehand, Duquesnel hastened forward and, on seeing de Lagrenée, cried:
“Ah, my dear fellow, allow me to present you to Her Majesty the Queen of Paris!”
There being no avenue of escape, de Lagrenée, who, although genuinely timid and embarassed, was none the less a gentleman, found himself pushed forward into the presence of the woman whom he had, for so long and from such a distance, adored.
Sarah at once drew him aside and began an animated, if one-sided, conversation. De Lagrenée was too reticent or too bashful to say much; but under Sarah’s friendly smile he gradually gained courage, with the result that when she gave him an invitation to visit her in her dressing-room and afterwards to sup alone with her at her flat, he stammered his acceptance, overwhelmed with a mixture of confusion and joy.
From then on the affair followed the customary course. Sarah made excessive demands on de Lagrenée. She insisted that he should take her everywhere and be seen with her in public restaurants and in society. From a distant worshipper, he became her abject slave. People called him “Sarah’s messenger boy,” and “Sarah’s little dog.” Never a day passed without a mass of fresh flowers being sent to her dressing-room by the young diplomat.
At length the scandalous rumour that he was Sarah’s latest conquest reached the ears of his aristocratic parents, who belonged to a set which severely disapproved of the stage and everyone connected with it. Aghast, they sent for their son and commanded him to sever his connection with the actress at once.
By nature a dutiful son, he agreed, although not without considerable heart-pangs, as may be imagined. When Sarah heard about his pledge, however, and the arguments that had exacted it, she went to the house of his parents in a fury, insisted on admittance, created a terrible scene, and frightened and astonished them both beyond measure. Finally when de Lagrenée appeared, she overwhelmed his halting objections and carried him off with her in her carriage.
A week later de Lagrenée was directed to join the French consular staff at St. Petersburg, that being the city the farthest away from Sarah that his parents could think of. And the romance was effectually stopped. Before he left for Russia, however, an incident occurred which nearly cost de Lagrenée his life.
Richard O’Monroy, besides writing his weekly chronicles in La Vie Parisienne, was one of those society hangers-on who love to boast of their conquests of women. He used to do this, not only in allegedly witty conversation, but, in veiled terms, in the salacious weekly to which he contributed.