The first cast was: Marie Roze, in all the splendor of her youthful beauty and talent; Victor Capoul, the idol of the public; and Mlle. Girard, the spirited singer and actress, the delight of the Opéra-Comique. We were ready to go on the stage when the cast was upset. Marie Roze was taken away from me and replaced by a seventeen year old beginner, Marie Heilbronn, the artist to whom I was to entrust the creation of _Manon_ seventeen years later. At the first rehearsal with the orchestra I was unconscious of what was going on, I was so deeply absorbed in listening to this and that, in fact to all the sonorousness of the work, which did not prevent me, however, telling every one that I was entirely pleased and satisfied. I had the courage to attend the first performance--in the wings, which reminded me of Berlioz's _L'Enfance du Christ_ which I had attended secretly. That evening was both exciting and amusing. I spent the entire afternoon in feverish agitation. I stopped at every poster to look at the fascinating words so large with promise: First Performance of _La Grand'Tante_ Opéra-Comique in One Act I had to wait to read the authors' names. That would come only with the announcement of the second performance. We served as a curtain raiser for the great success of the moment, _La Voyage en Chine_ by Labiche and François Bazin. I had been a pupil of the latter for a brief while at the Conservatoire. His pilgrimages to the land of the Celestials had not deprived his teaching of that hard, unamiable form which I suffered from with him, and I left his class in harmony a month after I joined it. I went into the class of Henri Reber of the Institute. He was a fine, exquisite musician, of the race of Eighteenth Century masters. All his music breathed forth pleasant memories. One fine Friday evening in April, at half-past seven, the curtain rose at the Opéra-Comique. I was in the wings near my dear friend Jules Adenis. My heart throbbed with anxiety, seized by that mystery to which for the first tune I gave myself body and soul, as to an unknown God. To-day that seems a little exaggerated, rather childish. The piece had just begun, when we heard a burst of laughter from the audience. "Listen, _mon ami_, what a splendid start," said Adenis. "The audience is amused." The audience was indeed amused, but this is what happened. The scene opened in Brittany on a stormy, tempestuous night. Mlle. Girard had faced the audience and sung a prayer, when Capoul entered, speaking these words from the text: "What a country! What a wilderness! Not a soul in sight!" when he saw Mlle. Girard's back and cried: "At last.... There's a face!" He had scarcely uttered this expression when the roars of laughter we had heard broke loose. However, the piece went on without further incident. They encored Mlle. Girard's song, _Les filles de la Rochelle_. They applauded Capoul and gave the young debutante Heilbronn a great welcome.