When Hartmann heard of this, he wanted to play a trick on Pasdeloup, who had heard the score not long before and who had refused it almost brutally, so he created, in collaboration with Duquesnel at the Odéon, the Concert National. The leader of the orchestra at this new popular concert was Edouard Colonne, my old friend at the Conservatoire, whom I had already chosen to conduct _Les Erinnyes_. Hartmann's publishing house was the rendezvous for all the youngsters, including César Franck whose lofty works had not yet come into their own. The small shop at 17 Boulevard de la Madeleine became the center of the musical movement. Bizet, Saint-Saëns, Lalo, Franck, and Holmès were a part of the inner circle. Here they chatted gaily and with every enthusiasm and ardor in their faith in the great art which was to ennoble their lives. The first five concerts at the Concert National were devoted to César Franck and to other composers. The sixth and last was given to the full performance of _Marie Magdeleine_. CHAPTER X JOY AND SORROW The first reading of _Marie Magdeleine_ to the cast took place at nine o'clock one morning in the small hall of the Maison Erard, Rue de Mail, which had been used heretofore for quartet concerts. Early as the hour was Mme. Viardot was even earlier, so eager was she to hear the first notes of my work. The other interpreters arrived a few moments later. Edouard Colonne conducted the orchestra rehearsals. Mme. Viardot took a lively interest in the reading. She followed it like an artist well acquainted with the composition. She was a marvellous singer and lyric tragedienne and more than an artist; she was a great musician, a woman marvellously endowed and altogether unusual. On the eleventh of April the Odéon received the public which always attends dress rehearsals and first nights. The theater opened its doors to All Paris, always the same hundred persons who think it the most desirable privilege in the world to be present at a rehearsal or a first night. The press was represented as usual. I took refuge with my interpreters in the wings. They were all there and they were highly excited. In their emotion it seemed as if they were to pass a final sentence on me, that they were about to give a verdict on which my life depended. I can give no account of the impression of the audience. I had to leave the next day with my wife for Italy, so I had no immediate news. The first echo of _Marie Magdeleine_ reached me at Naples in the form of a touching letter from the ever kindly Ambroise Thomas. This is what the master, always so delicately attentive to everything which marked the steps of my musical career, wrote: PARIS, April 12, 1873