Rachel; but I have become old, she has become rich, and nothing moderates mind and heart more than riches and years."
Frances Anne Kemble, in her Records of Later Life, alludes to Véron's Reminiscences. After speaking of Grisi, she goes on:—
In a woman of far other and higher endowments, that wonderful actress Rachel, whose face and figure, under the transforming influence of her consummate dramatic art, were the perfect interpreters of her perfect dramatic conception, an ignoble, low-lived expression occasionally startled and dismayed one, on a countenance as much more noble and intellectual as it was less beautiful than Grisi's—the outward and visible sign of the inward and visible disgrace, which made it possible for one of her literary countrymen, and warmest admirers, to say that she was adorable because she was so "delicieusment canaille"—Emilie, Camille, Esther, Pauline—such a "delightful blackguard!"
The outward and visible sign of her disgrace had not, however, yet dimmed Rachel's genius, and in all the great houses in London she was received as a favoured guest. When she seemed to suffer from cold on the occasion of her visit to Windsor, the Duchess of Kent took off the magnificent yellow Indian shawl she wore and wrapped it round her (a present which, by the way, was despatched to "Maman Félix," to Paris next day). The Queen threw her roses out of her own bouquet on to the stage; her every movement was chronicled. She was slightly indisposed, and frequent bulletins were issued, informing the public of the state of her health. On reappearing, she was welcomed as if she had been snatched from the jaws of death.
When she took farewell of her enthusiastic admirers on the 20th July, nothing could exceed the excitement. According to one writer, "her triumph had even ex-
