threw herself on the ground shrieking the name of her sister, and calling, with sobs and tears, for forgiveness. The actor Laferrière and a lady, who were present, raised her and led her away. When they returned, Madame Félix said to them, "It is Rachel's turn now. For God's sake, go! Do not look at her; do not stop." Dinah, who was also present, added her entreaties to her mother's. They all knew Rachel's reserved, peculiar disposition, and submitted without hesitation to her will and withdrew; but not before they caught a glimpse of her, led by her father, approaching, with brows deeply gathered, while all the other members of the family stood aside, evidently dreading one of her paroxysms of passion.
The next communication M. Legouvé received on the subject of his play was conclusive. It was dated the 20th September, three months after Rebecca's death, and was addressed to a friend of Rachel, Madame de S, who enclosed it to the unfortunate author. In it Rachel begged her "dear Louise" to undertake, for her sake, the disagreeable task of informing M. Legouvé that she has decided never to act Medea. She acknowledged the commission to be an ungrateful one, but relied on her friend's affection to perform it. She confessed she had done all in her power, even learnt the first act, but that she was certain she would have no success in a character that was odious and unnatural. The author, she acknowledged, had every right to feel indignant; therefore, not feeling sufficiently restored to health to hear his reproaches, she conveyed her expression of regret through a third person.
In all this affair, for which Rachel was so much blamed, we cannot but admire the self-restraint and
