At the age of fifteen Sarah was a thin, weedy, shock-headed girl, about five feet tall, but undeveloped. Her complexion was pale and dark rings under her eyes told the story of unconquered anæmia. She had a chronic cough that would shake her thin body to paroxysms. She was extremely subject to colds and chills, and the slightest indisposition would send her to bed with fever. Doctors shook their heads over her and predicted that she would die of consumption before reaching the age of twenty.
Her anæmia gave to her face a species of sombre beauty which was enlivened by the extraordinary play of expression in her eyes as she talked. Her features reflected every change of mood, and her moods were many. Judged by her face alone, she was not so much beautiful as striking. Character fairly leapt at one when she spoke.
Her character was a curious composite of morbidity, affection, talent and wilfulness. Her mother and her governess, Mlle. de Brabender, a probationer nun, were often reduced to despair by her temper, which seemed to grow worse as she became older. At other times, but more rarely, she was tractable to the point of docility.
Sarah’s first visit to the theatre was to the Opéra-Comique. This great event occurred when she was slowly recovering from the illness which followed her expulsion from the Convent at Grandchamps. One day she was at her music lesson with Mlle. Clarisse, when her mother’s maid came to say that her presence was desired in the salon. There she found her mother, the Duc de Morny, and her younger sister Jeanne, who was never far from her mother’s side when the latter was in Paris.
Putting his hand on her curly head the Duke said:
“We have a great surprise for you.”
“A wonderful surprise,” added her mother.
Sarah clapped her hands excitedly. “I know—I know! You are going to let me enter the Convent—I am to be a nun!”
She was overwhelmed with joy; never doubted but that her fondest dream was to be made true.
“What is this?” demanded the Duke in amazement. “Our beautiful little Sarah wants to be a nun? And why do you wish to condemn yourself to that living death, may I ask?”