“Let him wait,” she said. “After all, he isn’t King yet!”
At ten o’clock—punctuality is the politeness of kings—the Prince arrived. When Sarah returned, she found him in the wings, watching the life behind the scenes with intense interest. It being draughty there, he had not removed his hat.
He advanced his hand, but Sarah kept hers at her side. She was in one of her haughty moods that evening.
“A King may wear his crown, but a Prince must remove his hat in the presence of a lady,” she said loftily.
The Prince snatched his silk hat from his head, blushed deeply, and murmured a confused apology. It was probably the one occasion in his life when a woman treated him with such scant consideration for his Royal dignity!
After the famous dinner “en famille” given to the Prince and Princess of Wales by Sarah—it was supposed to be strictly secret, but Sarah saw that it leaked into the papers!—she received a note from one of the ladies-in-waiting to the Princess, who, with her Royal husband, was living at the Hotel Bristol in the Place Vendôme.
“Her Royal Highness was much interested in the gown which Madame Bernhardt was describing to her last night, and wonders whether Madame Bernhardt could spare her a few minutes this morning to consult with her regarding it.”
Truly a strange message to be sent by a Princess to an actress!
Sarah visited the hotel and had another long chat with the Princess, whose beauty and grace were the talk of Paris. They talked of a good deal besides dresses. The Princess loved to speak of her beloved Denmark, which Sarah knew well, and they recalled the first occasion on which Sarah went there, just after she left the Comédie Française, when the Princess was also visiting her native country.
Sarah gave the Prince a Swiss shepherd-dog, and he, after becoming King Edward VII., sent her an Airedale puppy. This puppy came to an unfortunate end shortly afterwards. It died in agony as the result of being bitten by Sarah’s pet panther.