not the least proof of the largeness and versatility of her genius.
The great and powerful of the land vied with one another to do her honour. Louis Philippe, who had not been once to the theatre since his accession, paid several visits to see her act. One evening, after performing before His Majesty, she was presented to him at the conclusion of the tragedy. The King took her trembling hand in his, and assured her that every time he saw her it was with increased pleasure. In her confusion the young actress addressed him simply as "Monsieur." On being afterwards blamed for it by her companion, she replied that, "being in the habit of conversing only with the Kings of Greece and Rome, she was ignorant of the form of speech used towards the monarchs of her day." On the following morning His Majesty sent her a thousand-franc note, his first gift to any actor or actress. Great as were the honours heaped upon her by royalty all her life, Rachel ever remained one of the people at heart. A night or two after her interview with Louis Philippe, a friend of hers was eye-witness of the following scene:—
Mademoiselle Rachel was leaving the Théâtre des Italiens during a representation; the carriage was coming up. She was on the point of putting her foot on the step, when a little girl selling oranges, recognising her, called out with that mocking tone of voice common to the street Arab, male and female, "Ah, Rachel, Rachel!" The tragedian stopped, turned, and answered gaily in the same tone, "Tiens c't autre!" then, assuming her natural voice, "My dear child," she added, "are you selling much?" Without waiting for an answer she threw a gold piece amongst the oranges. The little girl poured forth her thanks, and, bending down, picked up some rose leaves Rachel had let fall from a bouquet she held. She told me afterwards she valued the homage paid by this child in her rags more than half the adulation received from the cultured audience who came nightly to do her honour.
Rich and poor, educated and uneducated, all united
