The spring of 1905 found me once more in Monte Carlo, where a notable performance was the _premiere_ of Saint-Saens' "L'Ancetre," in which I created the role of Margarita. During this spring engagement I created another role, the title part in Mascagni's "Amica." Preparations for the opera had been well under way for some time, Calve having been engaged for Amica. Five days before the _premiere_ she withdrew for reasons which were never explained to me. Gunsberg appealed to me as a favor to help him out, if possible, and create this very difficult role. I agreed, and, by working day and night, I succeeded in preparing it in time for the performance. At this special performance Gatti-Casazza, who was then Director of La Scala at Milan, heard me sing for the first time, but all he recalls, he says, were a pair of eyes and a very tempestuous young person. One night during this spring season in Monte Carlo I caught sight of a familiar face in the recesses of a stage box and, for the curtain call, I made the royal salute to this box. After the curtain fell, every one started to make fun of me. "We have no royalty in Monte Carlo," one said. "Pardon me," I replied, "but I shall always give the royal salute when King Oscar of Sweden is in the audience." It was, indeed, His Majesty, who had timed his visit to Monte Carlo so that he could hear me sing, as he said he would. The next morning I read in the newspapers that the King of Sweden, traveling incognito as Count Haga, was visiting Monte Carlo as the guest of the Prince of Monaco. In Monte Carlo even royalty mingles with the crowd, and so it happened that later in the day I encountered His Majesty strolling along in a smart gray suit, with an Alpine hat and stick, looking for all the world like some prosperous American banker seeing Europe on a vacation. His Majesty was kind enough to entertain both my mother and me at dinner several times during this engagement in Monte Carlo. The fact that I created the title role in "Amica" in five days was duly telegraphed to Paris and other cities, and led directly to a most spectacular engagement in the French capital, which must be recorded as my Parisian debut. A certain Count Camondo, a wealthy patron of the arts who made Paris his home, had written the music to an operatic libretto by Victor Capoul, entitled "The Clown." Count Camondo came to Monte Carlo, engaged the entire Monte Carlo Opera Company--including me, as I had special leave of absence from the Kaiser for the occasion--at an exorbitant figure to sing three performances of the new opera in Paris, all proceeds to go to charity. Count Camondo paid all expenses, staged the opera lavishly, and we sang the three performances to crowded houses, at the Theatre Rejane, Paris. At last I had sung in grand opera in Paris, even if only for charity! [Illustration: LA TOSCA] CHAPTER XI LEAVING BERLIN