vertheless, the fact
remained that I had scored a success on my debut; the audience had
received favorably a "Marguerite" who was neither fat nor forty, and the
newspaper critics had united in giving me a most enthusiastic verdict
of approval.

[Illustration: "MY THIRD SEASON OPENED IN TRAVIATA"]

Naturally after such a success I expected to be called upon again very
soon, but many weeks passed and still my name was not included in the
published casts given out from week to week. Finally I determined to
find out the reason for this neglect, so I called on Count von Hochberg
in his private office at the opera.

"Good-evening, Your Excellency," I remarked pleasantly. "I have just
looked over the billboards and I don't see my name included in next
week's repertoire."

There was a moment of embarrassment, then I continued:--

"I merely wondered why I don't sing," adding, "Of course, if Berlin
doesn't want me I should like to know it."

Count von Hochberg murmured something about giving me an answer the next
day, but I insisted I must know that night.

"Very well, then, Fraeulein," replied Count von Hochberg positively.
"Within ten days you will sing here."

Fate was ever watchful over me, and soon I was notified that "Traviata"
was to be revived for me.

What fun I had in composing the adorable role of Camille. And then, too,
I was all afire with memories of the great Sarah as Marguerite Gauthier.
I had _heard_ famous prima donnas in "Traviata," but few, other than the
emotional Bellincioni, had ever successfully _acted_ the operatic
heroine. I was allowed to eliminate much of the stilted traditional
settings, and, with modern scenery and sumptuous dressing, I played this
role so that it immediately became one of my most popular successes. In
the romantic and handsome Franz Naval I had an inspiring partner. Our
artistic connection was to endure many years, and we have left behind
us, I can truthfully say, very beautiful memories in the hearts of our
loyal German public. I particularly recall our joint successes in
"Romeo," "Mignon," "Manon," "Faust," "The Black Domino," and such poetic
operas.

By this time rumors of the "crazy American" had spread over Berlin,
together with reports that she was young, slender and, some said,
beautiful. And then there were--eyes! The result was a notable increase
in attendance of smart young officers and Court society. The Intendant
arranged matters so that I sang quite frequen