My aunt, seeing me thus arrayed, was horribly shocked and told me so. But I was preparing yet another surprise for her. She thought these young workers were ordinary house painters and considered I was too familiar with them. But she nearly fainted when midday came and I rushed to the piano to play “The Complaint of the Hungry Stomachs.” This wild melody had been improvised by the group of painters, but revised and corrected by poet friends. When the song was finished I mounted into my bedroom and made myself into a fine lady for lunch. My aunt had followed me: “But, my dear,” said she, “you are mad to think I am going to eat with all these workmen. Certainly in all Paris there is no one but yourself who would do such a thing.” “No, no, aunt, it is all right.” And I dragged her off, when I was dressed, to the dining-room, which was the most habitable room of the house. Five young men solemnly bowed to my aunt, who did not recognize them at first, for they had changed their working clothes and looked like five respectable young men of society. Mme. Guérard lunched with us. Suddenly, in the middle of lunch, my aunt, cried out: “But these are the workmen!” The five young men rose and bowed low. Then my poor aunt understood her mistake and excused herself in every possible manner, so confused was she. CHAPTER XIX BUSY DAYS One day Alexandre Dumas, _fils_, was announced. He came to bring me the good news that he had finished his play for the Comédie Française: “L’Etrangère,” and that my rôle, the _Duchess de Septmonts_, had come out very well. “You can,” he said to me, “make a fine success out of it.” I expressed my gratitude to him. A month after this visit we were convoked to the Comédie for the reading of this piece. The reading was a great success, and I was delighted with my rôle: _Catherine de Septmonts_. I also liked the rôle of Croizette: _Mistress Clarkson_. Got gave us each our parts, and thinking that he had made a mistake I passed on to Croizette the rôle of _l’Etrangère_, which he had just given me, saying to her: “Here, Got has made a mistake—here is your rôle.” “But he is not making any mistake, it is I who am to play the _Duchess de Septmonts_.” I burst out into irrepressible laughter, which surprised everybody present, and when Perrin, annoyed, asked me why I was laughing like that, I exclaimed: “At all of you—you, Dumas, Got, Croizette—and all of you who are in the plot, and who are all a little afraid of the result of your cowardice. Well, you need not alarm yourselves. I was delighted to play the _Duchesse de Septmonts_, but I shall be ten times more delighted to play the _Stranger_. And this time, my dear Sophie, I make no account of you; you are not worth considering, for you have played me a little trick which was quite unworthy of our friendship!”