“And did you?”
“Yes. In July, 1882, I appeared there.”
This was her greatest triumph. In the part of Marguerite she took the house by storm, and won from the composer the highest encomiums. Subsequently, she appeared with equal success as Ophélie, having been specially prepared for both these rôles by the respective composers, Charles Gounod and Ambroise Thomas.
“You should have been satisfied after that,” I said.
“I was,” she answered. “So thoroughly was I satisfied that, soon afterwards, I gave up my career and was married. For two years I remained away from the public, but, after that time, my husband having died, I decided to return. I made my first appearance at the Burton Theater in London, and was doing well enough when Colonel Mapleson came to me. He was going to produce grand opera—in fact, he was going to open Covent Garden, which had been closed for a long time, with a big company. He was another interesting character. I found him to be generous and kind-hearted and happy-spirited as anyone could be. When he came to me it was in the most friendly manner. ‘I am going to open Covent Garden,’ he said. ‘Now, here is your chance to sing there. All the great singers have appeared there—Patti, Gerster, Nilsson, Tietjens—now it’s your turn—come and sing.’
“‘How about terms?’ I asked.
“‘Terms!’ he exclaimed; ‘terms! Don’t let such little details stand in your way. What is money compared to this? Ignore money. Think of the honor, of the memories of the place, of what people think of it;’ and then he waved his arms dramatically.
“Well, we came to terms, not wholly sacrificial on my part, and the season began. Covent Garden had not been open for a long time. It was in the spring of the year, cold and damp. There was a crowded house, though, because fashion accompanied the Prince of Wales there. He came, night after night, and heard the opera through with an overcoat on.
“It was no blessed task for me, or healthy, either, but the Lord has blessed me with a sound constitution. I sang my parts, as they should be sung, some in bare arms and shoulders, with too little clothing for such a temperature. But it was Covent Garden, and so I bore up under it.”