The luncheon that I had so completely forgotten was nevertheless a luncheon arranged several days previously. On reaching home we found there Paul de Rémusat, charming Mlle. Hocquigny, and M. de Monbel, a young attaché d’ambassade. I explained my lateness as well as I could, and that morning finished in the most delicious harmony of ideas.
I have never felt more than I did that day the infinite joy of listening.
During a silence Mlle. Hocquigny turned to the Marshal and said:
“Are you not of the opinion that our young friend should enter the Comédie Française?”
“Ah, no, no!” I exclaimed; “I am so happy at the Odéon. I began at the Comédie, and the short time I remained there I was very unhappy.”
“You will be obliged to go back there, my dear friend—obliged. Believe me, it will be better early than late.”
“Well, do not spoil to-day’s pleasure for me, for I have never been happier!”
One morning shortly after this my maid brought me a letter. The large round stamp, on which are the words “Comédie Française” was on the corner of the envelope.
I remembered that ten years previously, almost day for day, our old servant Marguerite had, with my mother’s permission, handed me a letter in the same kind of envelope.
My face then had flushed with joy, but this time I felt a faint tinge of pallor touch my cheeks.