The first performance took place as arranged, and “Le Passant” was a veritable triumph. The whole house cheered over and over again, and the curtain was raised eight times for Agar and me. We tried in vain to bring the author forward, as the public wished to see him. François Coppée was not to be found. The young poet, hitherto unknown, had become famous within a few hours. His name was on all lips. As for Agar and myself, we were simply overwhelmed with praise, and Chilly wanted to pay for our costumes. We played this one-act piece more than a hundred times consecutively, to a full house. We were asked to give it at the Tuileries, and at the house of the Princess Mathilde. Oh, that first performance at the Tuileries! It is stamped on my brain forever, and with my eyes shut I can see every detail again, even now. It had been managed, between Duquesnel and the official sent from the court, that Agar and I should go to the Tuileries to see the room where we were to play, in order to have it arranged according to the requirements of the piece. The Comte de Laferrière was to introduce me to the Emperor, who would then introduce me to the Empress Eugénie. Agar was to be introduced by the Princess Mathilde, for whom she was then sitting as Minerva. M. De Laferrière came for me at nine o’clock in a state carriage, and Mme. Guérard accompanied me. M. De Laferrière was a very agreeable man with rather stiff manners. As we were turning round the Rue Royale the carriage had to draw up an instant, and General Fleury approached us. I knew him, as he had been introduced to me by Morny. He spoke to us, and the Comte de Laferrière explained where we were going. As he left us he said to me: “Good luck!” Just at that moment a man who was passing by took up the words and called out: “Good luck, perhaps, but not for long, you crowd of good-for-nothings!” On arriving at the Tuileries Palace we all three got out of the carriage, and were shown into a small yellow drawing-room on the ground floor. “I will go and inform his majesty that you are here,” said M. De Laferrière, leaving us. When alone with Mme. Guérard, I thought I would rehearse my three courtesies: “Now, _ma petite dame_,” I said, “tell me whether they are right.” I made the courtesies, murmuring, “Sire—Sire.” I began over again several times, looking down at my dress, as I said “Sire,” when suddenly I heard a stifled laugh.