Going out into the brilliantly-lighted streets I saw that she was right. They were alive with people, and most, if not all, the shops and of course the restaurants were open. It was a novel scene that amused and enchanted me.
We arrived in a few minutes at the Hotel du Nord, and there another surprise awaited me. Sarah Bernhardt herself, accompanied by none other than Jacques Damala, advanced to meet me. Right and left were other members of the company, arriving in a similar state of bewilderment.
“We are going to have a real Russian party!” announced Sarah.
“But—I thought you were ill?” I said.
“Just an excuse—to get you out of bed, ma petite!” she said, to my astonishment. “I knew all of you were so tired that you would never get up for a mere invitation to a party, so I invented the excuse that I was ill!”
Some of the party, especially the men, were very angry and returned to their beds, after telling Sarah what they thought of her. Sarah only laughed. I myself felt nervous and annoyed, and Sarah must have seen this, for she passed her arm round me and led me to a buffet, where she gave me a little hot tea with cognac and lemon in it. This warmed and strengthened me, and I decided to stay.
The party kept on till four o’clock, with Sarah and Damala behaving like two children in their teens. There was a fearfully fascinating Prince there—Dimitri something, his name was—and he devoted himself to me, as the youngest and therefore the most innocent of the party. I was sixteen or seventeen—I forget which. At any rate, it was all perfectly wonderful to me.
People kept arriving and departing as casually as they had come. All St. Petersburg seemed determined to make the acquaintance of Sarah Bernhardt, and the throng round her was tremendous, with the result that many who wanted to talk to her had to content themselves with the other members of the company.
My Prince was courtesy itself. He was quite young, and very distinguished-looking; and I heard it stated that he was related to the Royal family. But I never found out the exact relationship ... in fact, Russia was such a whirl for me that I carried away very few facts and decidedly mixed impressions. Everyone was charming.
We were fêted night after night in the most gorgeous way. The Grand Duke Michael—I think it was he—opened up his palace, which looked like a fortress, to us one night and we gave a brief performance there. After that we danced. Several of the Grand Dukes were there, and so was my Prince, who presented me to his wife, a gracious lady with that air of innate breeding which only the Russians, the English and the Danes seem to possess. The fact that Prince Dimitri had his wife there did not prevent him paying attention to me, and I had a wonderful time. I could have stayed in Russia for ever.