Surrounded by a court of adorers of both sexes, I lived in a sunny dream.
All the royal personages and the notabilities who were the guests of France during the Exhibition of 1878 came to see me. This was a constant source of pleasure to me.
The Comédie was the first theatre to which all these illustrious visitors went, and Croizette and I played nearly every evening. While I was playing Amphytrion I fell seriously ill, and was sent to the south.
I remained there two months. I lived at Mentone, but I made Cap Martin my headquarters. I had a tent put up here on the spot that the Empress Eugénie afterwards selected for her villa. I did not want to see anybody, and I thought that by living in a tent so far from the town I should not be troubled with visitors. This was a mistake. One day when I was having lunch with my little boy I heard the bells of two horses and a carriage. The road overhung my tent, which was half hidden by the bushes. Suddenly a voice which I knew, but could not recognise, cried in the emphatic tone of a herald, "Does Sarah Bernhardt, Sociétaire of the Comédie Française, reside here?"
We did not move. The question was asked again. Again the answer was silence. But we heard the sound of breaking branches, the bushes were pushed apart, and at two yards from the tent the unwelcome voice recommenced.
We were discovered. Somewhat annoyed, I came out. I saw before me a man with a large tussore cloak on, a field-glass strapped on his shoulders, a grey bowler hat, and a red, happy face, with a little pointed beard. I looked at this commonplace-looking individual with anything but favour. He lifted his hat.
"Madame Sarah Bernhardt is here?"
"What do you want with me, sir?"
"Here is my card, Madame."
I read, "Gambard, Nice, Villa des Palmiers." I looked at him with astonishment, and he was still more astonished to see that his name did not produce any impression on me. He had a foreign accent.
"Well, you see, Madame, I came to ask you to sell me your group, After the Tempest."
I began to laugh.
