proves every night by its applause that it shares my opinion.

I remember having seen Sophie Arnould twice at the opera, in "Castor
and Pollux." I recollect that she seemed to me to possess grace and
feeling. As for her abilities as a singer, the music of that epoch
disgusted me so that I did not listen to it enough to be able to
speak about it now. Mlle. Arnould was not pretty; her mouth spoiled
her face; only her eyes conveyed the cleverness which made her famous.
A great number of her witty sayings have been passed round from mouth
to mouth or printed.

A woman whose superior gifts delighted us for a long time was Mlle.
Arnould's successor. This was Mme. Saint Huberti, whom one must have
heard in order to understand how far lyric tragedy can go. Mme. Saint
Huberti had not only a superb voice, but was also a great actress. Her
good fate ordained that she should sing the operas of Piccini,
Sacchini and Gluck, and all this music, so beautiful, so expressive,
exactly suited her talent, which was full of significance, of
sincerity and of nobility. She was not good-looking, but her face was
entrancing because of its soulfulness. The Count d'Entraigues, a very
fine, handsome man, and very distinguished through his intellect, fell
in love with her and married her. When the Revolution broke out they
escaped to London together. It was there that one evening they were
both murdered, without either the murderers or their motives ever
being discovered.

In the ballet, likewise noted for people with great capabilities,
Gardel and Vestris the elder were first. Vestris was tall and
imposing, and was not to be excelled in dances of the grave and sedate
order. I could not prescribe the grace with which he took off and put
back his hat at the bow preceding the minuet. All the young women of
the court took lessons from him, before their presentation, in making
the three courtesies. Vestris the elder was succeeded by his son, the
most astonishing dancer to be seen, such were his combined
gracefulness and lightness. Although our dancers of the present day by
no means spare us their pirouettes, certainly no one could ever do as
many as he did. He would suddenly rise toward the sky in such a
marvellous manner that one thought he must have wings, and this made
old Vestris say, "If my son touches the ground it is only from
politeness to his colleagues."

Mlle. Guimard had another sort of talent altogether. Her dancing was
only a sketch;