tracts me so much that I sometimes forget my role. At any rate, I
wait till the leaves have finished rustling. But in society," she
added, "I find that almost every one who is presented to me talks very
good French." "Well," I answered, "if Boston didn't speak French I
should be ashamed of it." She laughed. "Sometimes," she said, "they do
make curious mistakes. I am making note of all I can remember. They
will be amusing in the book I am writing. A lady said to me, 'What I
admire the most in you, madame, _c'est votre temperature_.'" She meant
"temperament." "What did you answer to that?" I asked. "I said, '_Oui,
madame, il fait tres chaud_,' which fell unappreciated."

She is bored with reporters, who besiege her from morning till night.
One--a woman--who sat with note-book in hand for ages ("_une eternite_"
she said) reporting, the next day sent her the newspaper in which a
column was filled with the manner she treated her nails. Not one word
about "_mon art_"! "Some of my _admirateurs_" she said, "pay their
fabulous compliments through an interpreter." She thought this was
ridiculous. When I got up to leave she said, "_Chere_ madame, you know
Mr. Longfellow?" "Yes," I replied, "very well." "Could you not arrange
that I might make his bust? You can tell him that you know my work, and
that I can do it if he will let me."

I told her that I would try. She was profuse in her thanks in
anticipation, but, alas! Mr. Longfellow, when I spoke to him, turned a
cold shoulder on the idea. He begged me to assure Sarah Bernhardt
nothing would have given him more pleasure, but, with a playful wink,
"I am leaving for Portland in a few days, and I am afraid she will have
left Boston when I come back"--thus cutting the Gordian (k)_not_ with a
snap. But, evidently regretting his curtness, he said, "Tell her if she
is at liberty to-morrow I will offer her a cup of tea." Then he added:
"You must come and chaperon me. It would not do to leave me alone with
such a dangerous and captivating visitor." He invited Mr. Howells and
Oliver Wendell Holmes to meet her. I wrote to Sarah Bernhardt what the
result of my interview was and gave the invitation. She sent back a
short "I will come." The next afternoon I met her at Mr. Longfellow's.
When we were drinking our tea she said, "_Cher_ M. Longfellow, I would
like so much to have made your bust, but I am so occupied that I really
have not the time." And he answered her in the most suave manner, "I