pring season in Monte Carlo I caught sight of a
familiar face in the recesses of a stage box and, for the curtain call,
I made the royal salute to this box. After the curtain fell, every one
started to make fun of me.

"We have no royalty in Monte Carlo," one said.

"Pardon me," I replied, "but I shall always give the royal salute when
King Oscar of Sweden is in the audience."

It was, indeed, His Majesty, who had timed his visit to Monte Carlo so
that he could hear me sing, as he said he would. The next morning I
read in the newspapers that the King of Sweden, traveling incognito as
Count Haga, was visiting Monte Carlo as the guest of the Prince of
Monaco.

In Monte Carlo even royalty mingles with the crowd, and so it happened
that later in the day I encountered His Majesty strolling along in a
smart gray suit, with an Alpine hat and stick, looking for all the world
like some prosperous American banker seeing Europe on a vacation. His
Majesty was kind enough to entertain both my mother and me at dinner
several times during this engagement in Monte Carlo.

The fact that I created the title role in "Amica" in five days was duly
telegraphed to Paris and other cities, and led directly to a most
spectacular engagement in the French capital, which must be recorded as
my Parisian debut. A certain Count Camondo, a wealthy patron of the arts
who made Paris his home, had written the music to an operatic libretto
by Victor Capoul, entitled "The Clown." Count Camondo came to Monte
Carlo, engaged the entire Monte Carlo Opera Company--including me, as I
had special leave of absence from the Kaiser for the occasion--at an
exorbitant figure to sing three performances of the new opera in
Paris, all proceeds to go to charity. Count Camondo paid all
expenses, staged the opera lavishly, and we sang the three performances
to crowded houses, at the Theatre Rejane, Paris. At last I had sung in
grand opera in Paris, even if only for charity!

[Illustration: LA TOSCA]

CHAPTER XI

LEAVING BERLIN

After a short season in Stockholm, where once more I had the pleasure of
singing before dear old King Oscar, I found myself in Berlin. One
morning my maid brought me this telephone message:--

Heinrich Conried of New York is at the Hotel Bristol. Will Miss
Farrar please come down and sing for him?

I promptly had the maid telephone carefully as follows:--

Miss Farrar is at her home, and, if Herr Conried wishes to