interest in persons whom she thought to possess talent, and would help them with her advice, her talent and her influence. She once rescued a clown who was performing in the square at Metz and never rested until she had found a small position for him. She recommended him to me in 1833 or 1834, but I had no opportunity of giving him a part for fifteen or eighteen years, when I entrusted him with the rôle of Lorrain in the _Barrière de Clichy._ The man's name was Patonnelle and he was one of the best riders at the Cirque. In common with Talma, Mademoiselle Mars saw her reputation go on increasing to the very day on which she finally left the stage. Her last creation, Mademoiselle de Belle-Isle, was one of her happiest performances. I was her latest supporter at the theatre and, in all probability, I had the good fortune of prolonging her career for two or three years. The latter days of her period at the Comédie-Française were tinged with bitterness. One day, at an extra performance, someone threw a crown of immortelles at her feet, such as are placed upon tombs. It had been put together in one of the very boxes of the theatre, and I could, if I chose, mention in whose. When she left the stage the same thing occurred as after the loss of Talma. Everyone believed himself capable of replacing Talma, and everyone hoped to replace Mademoiselle Mars: they attempted it in their old rôles; they invented new ones. Managers and papers did their part by puffing and praising budding reputations. They had Turenne's money;--had they even the money of Mademoiselle Mars?... Although _Henri III._ did not bring any very great wealth to our household, it had, nevertheless, produced a considerable change: first and foremost it had freed us from debt; it had repaid Porcher and M. Laffitte; it had permitted us to quit our humble lodgings in the rue Saint-Denis and to hire for my mother a set of rooms on the ground floor, with a garden, at No. 7 rue Madame. She had been recommended to have air and exercise, and I chose that street and quarter so as to be close to Mesdames Villenave and Waldor, who from family reasons had left their house in the rue de Vaugirard and taken a suite of apartments at No. 11 rue Madame. I had hired a separate room for myself, on the fourth floor, at the corner of rue de l'Université and the rue du Bac, and, as my new position brought me visitors from among the ladies and gentlemen of the Théâtre-Français, I made this room as pretty as I could afford. As I had learnt from past experience never to trust too much to the future, I had compounded for my food for one year, paying 1800 francs in advance; or, to be more exact, I paid for 365 breakfast coupons and 365 dinner tickets, wine not included. Unluckily, a month after I had made this arrangement, the Café Desmares went bankrupt, and I lost my year's payment and meals. It was my first speculation, and it turned out badly, it will be seen.