My time was then occupied in looking after the building of a pretty hôtel which I was having constructed at the corner of the Avenue de Villiers and the Rue Fontuny. A sister of my grandmother had left me in her will a nice legacy which I used to buy the ground. My great desire was to have a house that should be entirely my own, and I was then realizing it. The son-in-law of M. Regnier, Félix Escalier, a fashionable architect, was building me a ravishing hôtel! Nothing amused me more than to go with him in the morning over the unfinished house. Then afterwards I mounted the movable scaffolds. Then I went on the roofs. I forgot my worries of the theater in this new occupation. The thing I most desired just now was to become an architect. Then, when the building was finished, the interior had to be thought of. I spent my strength in helping my painter friends who were decorating the ceilings in my bedroom, in my dining-room, in my hall—Georges Clairin, the architect Escalier, who was also a talented painter, Duez, Picard, Butin, Jadin, Jourdain, and Parrot. I was deeply interested, and I recollect a joke which I played on one of my relations. My Aunt Betsy had come from Holland, her native country, to pass a few days in Paris. She was staying with my mother. I invited her to lunch in my new, unfinished habitation. Five of my painter friends were working, some in one room, some in another, and everywhere lofty scaffoldings were erected. In order to be able to climb the ladders more easily I was wearing my sculptor’s costume. My aunt, seeing me thus arrayed, was horribly shocked and told me so. But I was preparing yet another surprise for her. She thought these young workers were ordinary house painters and considered I was too familiar with them. But she nearly fainted when midday came and I rushed to the piano to play “The Complaint of the Hungry Stomachs.” This wild melody had been improvised by the group of painters, but revised and corrected by poet friends. When the song was finished I mounted into my bedroom and made myself into a fine lady for lunch.
My aunt had followed me: “But, my dear,” said she, “you are mad to think I am going to eat with all these workmen. Certainly in all Paris there is no one but yourself who would do such a thing.”
“No, no, aunt, it is all right.”
And I dragged her off, when I was dressed, to the dining-room, which was the most habitable room of the house. Five young men solemnly bowed to my aunt, who did not recognize them at first, for they had changed their working clothes and looked like five respectable young men of society. Mme. Guérard lunched with us. Suddenly, in the middle of lunch, my aunt, cried out: “But these are the workmen!” The five young men rose and bowed low. Then my poor aunt understood her mistake and excused herself in every possible manner, so confused was she.
CHAPTER XIX
BUSY DAYS
One day Alexandre Dumas, fils, was announced. He came to bring me the good news that he had finished his play for the Comédie Française: “L’Etrangère,” and that my rôle, the Duchess de Septmonts, had come out very well. “You can,” he said to me, “make a fine success out of it.” I expressed my gratitude to him.
A month after this visit we were convoked to the Comédie for the reading of this piece.
The reading was a great success, and I was delighted with my rôle: Catherine de Septmonts. I also liked the rôle of Croizette: Mistress Clarkson. Got gave us each our parts, and thinking that he had made a mistake I passed on to Croizette the rôle of l’Etrangère, which he had just given me, saying to her: “Here, Got has made a mistake—here is your rôle.”
“But he is not making any mistake, it is I who am to play the Duchess de Septmonts.”