In obedience to the signal given we all rose from our knees. We then went to the chapel where a short mass was celebrated, after which we had an hour’s recreation. The concert was to commence at half past one. The recreation hour was devoted to preparing the large room and to getting ready to appear before Monseigneur. I wore the _Angel’s_ long robe with a blue sash round my waist, and two paper wings fastened on with narrow blue straps, that crossed over each other in front. Round my head was a band of gold braid, fastening behind. I kept mumbling my “part” (for in those days we did not know the word “rôle”). We are more used to the theater at present, but at the convent we always said “part,” and years afterwards I was surprised, the first time I played in England, to hear a young English girl say: “Oh, what a fine part you had in ‘Hernani.’” The room looked beautiful, oh, so beautiful! There were festoons of green leaves, with paper flowers at intervals, everywhere. Then there were little lusters hung about with gold cord. A wide piece of red velvet carpet was laid down from the door to Monseigneur’s armchair, upon which were two cushions of red velvet with gold fringe. I thought all these horrors very fine, very beautiful! The concert began and it seemed to me that everything went very well. Monseigneur, however, could not help smiling at the sight of César, and it was he who led the applause when the dog died. It was César, in fact, who had the greatest success, but we were nevertheless sent for to appear before Monseigneur Sibour. He was certainly the kindest and most charming of prelates and on this occasion he gave to each of us a consecrated medal. When my turn came he took my hand in his and said: “It is you, my child, who are not baptized, is it not?” “Yes, Reverend Father, yes, Monseigneur,” I replied in confusion. “She is to be baptized this spring,” said the Mother Superior. “Her father is coming back specially from a very distant country.” She and Monseigneur then said a few words to each other in a very low voice. “Very well, if I can, I will come again for the ceremony,” said the archbishop aloud. I was trembling with emotion and pride as I kissed the old man’s ring and then ran away to the dormitory, and cried for a long time. I was found there, later on, fast asleep from exhaustion. From that day forth I was a better child, more studious and less violent. In my fits of anger I was calmed by the mention of Monseigneur Sibour’s name, and reminded of his promise to come for my baptism.