I went every day to the rehearsal of the stupid piece and was bad-tempered all the time. Finally, the first performance took place, and my part was neither a success nor a failure. I simply was not noticed, and at night my mother remarked: “My poor child, you were ridiculous in your Russian princess rôle and I was very much grieved!” I did not answer at all, but I should honestly have liked to kill myself. I slept very badly that night and toward six in the morning I rushed up to Mme. Guérard’s. I asked her to give me some laudanum, but she refused. When she saw that I really wanted it, the poor, dear woman understood my idea. “Well, then,” I said, “swear by your children that you will not tell anyone what I am going to do, and then I will not kill myself.” A sudden idea had just come into my mind, and without weighing it, I wanted to carry it out at once. She promised, and I then told her that I should go at once to Spain, as I had wanted to see that country for a long time. “Go to Spain!” she exclaimed. “With whom, and when?” “With the money I have saved,” I answered, “and this very morning. Everyone is asleep at home. I shall go and pack my trunk and start at once with you!” “No, no, I cannot go!” exclaimed Mme. Guérard, nearly beside herself. “There is my husband to think of and, then, too, I have my children.” Her little girl was scarcely two years old at that time. “Well, then, _ma petite dame_, find me some one to go with me.” “I do not know anyone,” she answered, crying in her excitement. “My dear little Sarah, give up such an idea, I beseech you.” But by this time it was a fixed idea with me and I was very determined about it. I went downstairs, packed my trunk, and then returned to Mme. Guérard’s. I had wrapped up a pewter fork in paper and this I threw against one of the panes of glass in a skylight window opposite. The window was opened abruptly and the sleepy, angry face of a young woman appeared. I made a trumpet of my two hands and called out: “Caroline, will you start with me at once to Spain?” The bewildered expression on the young woman’s face showed that she had not comprehended what I had said, but she replied at once: “I am coming, mademoiselle.” She then closed her window and ten minutes later Caroline was tapping at the door. Mme. Guérard had sunk down aghast in an armchair. M. Guérard had asked several times from his bedroom what was going on. “Sarah is here,” his wife had replied; “I will tell you later on.”