I remained several days in Paris, then I set out for Brussels, where I was to play “Adrienne Lecouvreur” and “Froufrou.” The Belgian public—by which I mean the Brussels public—is the most like our own. In Belgium I never feel that I am in a strange country. Our language is the language of the country; the horses and carriages are always in perfect taste; the fashionable women resemble our own fashionable women; _cocottes_ abound; the hotels are as good as in Paris; the cab horses are as poor; the newspapers are as spiteful. Brussels is gossiping Paris in miniature. I played, for the first time, at the Monnaie and I felt uncomfortable in this immense and frigid theater. But the benevolent enthusiasm of the public soon warmed me and I shall never forget the four evenings I gave there. Then I set out for Copenhagen, where I was to give five performances at the Theater Royal. Our arrival, which was anxiously expected, doubtless, really frightened me. More than two thousand persons who were assembled in the station when the train came in, gave a hurrah so terrible that I did not know what was happening. But when M. De Fallesen, manager of the Theater Royal, and the first chamberlain of the king, entered my compartment and begged me to show myself at the window to gratify the curiosity of the public, the hurrahs began again, and then I understood. But a dreadful anxiety now took possession of me. I could never, I was sure, rise to what was expected from me. My slender frame would inspire disdain in those magnificent men and those splendid and healthy women. I stepped out of the train so diminished by comparison that I had the sensation of being nothing more than a breath of air; and I saw the crowd, submissive to the police, divide into two compact lines, leaving a large way for my carriage. I passed slowly through this double hedge of sympathetic sightseers, who threw me flowers and kisses and lifted their hats to me. I have had afterwards, in the course of my long career, many triumphs, receptions and ovations; but my reception by the Danish people remains one of my most cherished souvenirs. The living hedge lasted till we reached the Hotel d’Angleterre where I went in, after once more thanking the sympathetic friends who surrounded me. In the evening, the King and Queen and their daughter, the Princess of Wales, were present at the first performance of “Adrienne Lecouvreur.” This is what the _Figaro_ of the 16th August, 1880, said: “Sarah Bernhardt has played ‘Adrienne Lecouvreur’ with a tremendous success before a magnificent public. The royal family, the King and the Queen of the Hellènes, as well as the Princess of Wales, were present at the performance. The Queens threw their bouquets to the French artiste, midst applause. It was an unprecedented triumph. The public was delirious. To-morrow ‘Froufrou’ will be played.”