the
bridge of the nose in front, and cocked up in the back. Unbecoming--it
was admitted--, but "man" did it in Paris and should Darmstadt lag
behind?

The problem of clothes for the actress is a terrific one, and I think
almost every one in town knows and makes allowances for this. The men go
further astray in the quest of fashion, or perhaps it is that the
slightest lapse from rigid formality is so noticeable in their dress of
today. In Metz dickeys, or small false fronts, were worn as a matter of
course in the place of evening shirts. If you were long and the dickey
was short you stuck a jaunty, flaming silk handkerchief in your vest in
front, to hide dangerous glimpses of Jaegers. And then why stick
slavishly to the bow tie of white cotton? A black or scarlet string tie
was distinctly more novel, and attracted attention at once if worn with
an otherwise conventional evening coat.

In Darmstadt the men knew better, but some of them tried to ape the
officers in walk, monocle, or hair brushing, to the huge delight of the
officers. One clever actor always made his greatest climax by suddenly
throwing back his coat edge as he finished a "There, what do you say to
that?" speech, and so revealing the gorgeous black satin lining. This of
course was unanswerable, and never failed of its effect. You knew at
once you had a man of the world before you, a man familiar with the most
exclusive club life, valeted, perfumed and manicured irreproachably, and
you succumbed accordingly.

The Grand Duke would sit, lynx-eyed, up in his box, and take this all
in. I always felt he never missed anything, and it was inspiring to play
to him. When his box was empty I always missed this scrutiny.

Sometimes one gets messages that well-known people have been out in
front, and this knowledge, and the thought that some wandering
_Intendant_ in search of talent may be watching you, always spurs you on
if you are tired. Once a famous Dutch painter saw me as _Amneris_. He
was of course quite unknown to me, but sent me word later to say what
pleasure I had given him by recreating in his mind the Egyptian
silhouettes and colouring he loved. I had striven so hard to do this, it
was a great pleasure to know that I had succeeded in suggesting it.

A dear old gentleman in town, who had travelled much, sent me many
postcards from Spain, because my _Carmen_ brought back to him his happy
days there. He sent me a real Russian "Order" for my _Orlofsky_ in