My dear Mme. Guérard (_ma petite dame_) took a cab and hurried away to my mother to get news for me. I put a little more powder on, but the public, not knowing what was taking place, were annoyed with me, thinking I was guilty of some fresh caprice, and received me still more coldly than before. It was all the same to me, as I was thinking of something else. I went on saying _Mademoiselle de Belle Isle’s_ words (a most stupid and tiresome rôle), but all the time, I, Sarah, was waiting for news about my mother. I was watching for the return of _ma petite dame_. “Open the door on the O. P. side, just a little way,” I had said to her, “and make a sign like this, if mamma is better, and like that, if she is worse.” But I had forgotten which of the signs was to stand for better, and when, at the end of the third act, I saw Mme. Guérard opening the door and nodding her head for “yes,” I became quite idiotic. It was in the big scene of the third act when _Mademoiselle de Belle Isle_ reproaches the _Duc de Richelieu_ (Bressant) with doing her such irreparable harm. The _Duc_ replies, “Why did you not say that some one was listening, that some one was hidden?” I exclaimed: “It’s Guérard bringing me news!” The public had not time to understand, for Bressant went on quickly, and so saved the situation. After an unenthusiastic recall, I heard that my mother was better, but that she had had a very serious attack. Poor mamma, she had thought me such a fright when I made my appearance on the stage that her superb indifference had given way to grievous astonishment, and that, in its turn, to rage, on hearing a lady seated near her say in a jeering tone: “Why, she’s like a dried bone, this little Bernhardt!” [Illustration: “OPHELIA”—SCULPTURE BY SARAH BERNHARDT.] I was greatly relieved on getting the news, and I played my last act with confidence. The great success of the evening, though, was Croizette’s, who was charming as the _Marquise de Prie_. My success, nevertheless, was assured in the performances which followed, and it became so marked that I was accused of paying for applause. I laughed heartily at this, and never even contradicted the report, as I have a horror of useless words. I continued my débuts in “Junie de Britannicus,” having for hero Mounet-Sully, who played admirably. In this delicious rôle of _Junie_ I obtained an immense and incredible success. Then, in 1873 I played _Chérubin_ in “Le Mariage de Figaro.” Croizette played _Suzanne_, and it was a real treat for the public to see the delicious creature play a part so full of gayety and charm. _Chérubin_ was for me the opportunity of a fresh success.