I was absolutely ruined, for the money that my father and his mother had left me I had spent in furniture, curiosities, and a hundred other useless things, which were the delight of my life. I had, too, and I own it was absurd, a tortoise named Chrysagère. Its back was covered with a shell of gold, set with very small blue, pink, and yellow topazes. Oh, how beautiful it was and how droll! It used to wander round my flat, accompanied by a small tortoise named Zerbinette, which was its servant, and I amused myself for hours watching Chrysagère, flashing with a hundred lights under the rays of the sun or the moon. Both my tortoises died in this fire. Duquesnel, who was very kind to me at that time, came to see me a few weeks later, for he had just received a summons from the fire insurance company, whose papers I had refused to sign the day before the catastrophe. The company claimed a heavy sum from me for damages to the other tenants of the house. The second story was almost entirely destroyed, and for many months the whole building had to be propped up. I did not possess the forty thousand francs claimed. Duquesnel offered to give a benefit performance for me, which would, he said, free me from my difficulty. De Chilly was very walling to agree to anything that would be of service to me. This benefit was a wonderful success, thanks to the presence of the adorable Adelina Patti. The young singer, who was then the Marquise de Caux, had never before sung at a benefit performance, and it was Arthur Meyer who brought me the news that “La Patti” was going to sing for me. Her husband came during the afternoon, to tell me how glad she was of this opportunity of proving to me her sympathy. As soon as the “fairy bird” was announced, every seat in the house was promptly taken, at prices which were higher than those originally fixed. She had no reason to regret her friendly action, for never was any triumph more complete. The students greeted her with three cheers as she came on the stage. She was a little surprised at this noise of bravos in rhythm. I can see her now coming forward, her two little feet encased in pink satin. She was like a bird hesitating as to whether it would fly or remain on the ground. She looked so pretty, so smiling, and when she trilled out the gemlike notes of her wonderful voice the whole house was delirious with excitement. Everyone sprang up and the students stood on their seats, waved their hats and handkerchiefs, nodded their young heads, in their feverish enthusiasm for art, and encored with intonations of the most touching supplication. The divine singer then began again, and three times over she had to sing the _cavatina_ from the “Barber of Seville,” _Una voce poco fa_.