Rachel would relate with great glee in later days, how, once or twice, when their exchequer was very low, and they were ashamed to go home with so little, she had pretended to faint, hoping thus to work on the pity of the audience. One day the performance was so good that the proprietor of the café, opposite to which they had been singing, took her up in his arms and carried her inside, where they warmed her, fed her, and gave her a glass of wine. A hat was then sent round among the customers, and as much as ten francs collected. Already the theatrical instinct had begun to show itself: unconsciously she was preparing for the great fainting scene in Les Horaces, with which later, in this very town of Lyons, she electrified the populace. "Cette ville de Lyon me rappelle toute mon enfance," she whites to her father ten years later, when enjoying one of the greatest triumphs of her brilliant career.
The "Lyonnais," who refused a few sous to the little beggar girl, were then only too anxious to draw her carriage through the streets, and present her with gold crowns, amply rewarded by a smile or nod from the great tragedian. It is said that during that celebrated visit in 1843, escaping one night from the crowd that came to do her honour, she wandered off to visit the different parts of the city she had been in the habit of frequenting with her sister. On arriving at a small café near the Théâtre des Celestins, she seated herselt at one of the tables and ordered some refreshments; but she who, as a little girl, would have eaten voraciously of brioches à un sou la pièce, now turned away contemptuously from what was set before her. The people round also began to recognise the idol of the moment, and she was obliged to hasten away from
