The days slipped by at the Hague in dreaming and strolling over the dunes of Schleveningin or in the woods around the royal residence. There I made delightfully exquisite little friends of the deer who brought me the fresh breath of their damp muzzles. It was now the spring of 1883. I had returned to Paris and, as the work was finished, an appointment was made at M. Carvalho's. I found there our director, Mme. Miolan Carvalho, Meilhac, and Philippe Gille. _Manon_ was read from nine in the evening until midnight. My friends appeared to be delighted. Mme. Carvalho embraced me joyfully, and kept repeating, "Would that I were twenty years younger!" I consoled the great artiste as best I could. I wanted her name on the score and I dedicated it to her. We had to find a heroine and many names were suggested. The male rôles were taken by Talazac, Taskin and Cobalet--a superb cast. But no choice could be made for Manon. Many had talent, it was true, and even great fame, but I did not feel that a single artist answered for the part as I wanted it and could play the perfidious darling Manon with all the heart I had put into her. However, I found a young artist, Mme. Vaillant Couturier, who had such attractive vocal qualities that I trusted her with a copy of several passages of the score. I made her work at them at my publisher's. She was indeed my first Manon. They were playing at this time at Les Nouveautes one of Charles Lecocq's great successes. My great friend, Marquis de la Valette, a Parisian of the Parisians, dragged me there one evening. Mlle. Vaillant--later Mme. Couturier--the charming artiste of whom I have spoken, played the leading part adorably. She interested me greatly; to my eyes she greatly resembled a young flower girl on the Boulevard Capucines. I had never spoken to this delightful young girl (_proh pudor_) but her looks obsessed me and her memory accompanied me constantly; she was exactly the Manon I had had in my mind's eye during my work. I was carried away by the captivating artiste of Les Nouveautes, and I asked to speak to the friendly director of the theater, a free and open man, and an incomparable artist. "_Illustrious master_" he began, "what good wind brings you? You are at home here, as you know!" "I came to ask you to let me have Mlle. Vaillant for a new opera." "Dear man, what you want is impossible; I need Mlle. Vaillant. I can't let you have her." "Do you mean it?" "Absolutely, but I think that if you would write a work for my theater, I would let you have this artiste. Is it a bargain, _bibi_?" Matters stayed there with only vague promises on both sides. While this dialogue was going on, I noticed that the excellent Marquis de La Valette was much occupied with a pretty gray hat covered with roses passing back and forth in the foyer. All at once I saw the pretty hat coming towards me. "So a debutant no longer recognizes a debutante?" "Heilbronn!" I exclaimed. "Herself!"