All of this whetted my appetite. My eyes traveled to the Royal Box, to the Royal Crest on the great curtains, to the be-wigged footmen.... Slowly the lights came down to a dull glow, went out. A sound of applause greeted the entry into the orchestra pit of the conductor, the greatly talented musical director of the Sadler’s Wells organization, Constant Lambert. In a moment, the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, was filled with the magnificent sound of the overture to Tchaikowsky’s _The Sleeping Beauty_, played as only Lambert could play it. Then the curtain rose, revealing Oliver Messel’s perfectly wonderful setting for the first act of this magnificent full-length ballet. Over all, about all, was the great music of Tchaikowsky. My eyes, my ears, my heart were being filled to overflowing. The biggest moment of all came with the entrance of Margot Fonteyn as the Princess. I was overwhelmed by her entire performance; but I think it was her first entrance that made the greatest impact on me, with the fresh youthfulness of the young Princess, the radiant gaiety of all the fairy tale heroines of the world’s literature compressed into one. I was so enchanted as I followed the stage and the music that I forgot all else but the miraculous unfolding of this Perrault-Tchaikowsky fairy story. Here, at last, was great ballet. The art of pantomime, so long dormant in ballet in America, had been restored in all its clarity and simplicity of meaning. The high quality of the dancing by the principals, soloists, and _corps de ballet_, the settings, the costumes, the lighting, all literally transported me to another world. I knew then, in a great revelation, that great ballet was here to stay. “This is Ballet!” I said, almost half aloud. After the performance, back at the Savoy Grill once more, at supper I met, once again, Ninette de Valois, whose taste and drive and determination and abilities have made Sadler’s Wells the magnificent institution it is. “Madame,” I said to her, “I think you’re ready to go to the States.” “Are we?” “Yes,” I replied, “you are ready.” The supper was gay and charming and animated. I was filled with enthusiasm and was a long time falling asleep that night. After that evening, there was no longer any attitude of “to hell with ballet” on my part. Ballet, I realized, with a fresh conviction solidifying the revelation I had had the night before, was here to stay. “To hell with ballet” had given way to “three cheers for ballet!” After breakfast, the next morning, I telephoned David Webster to invite him to luncheon so that I might discuss details of the proposed American venture with him. During the course of the luncheon we went into all the major points and problems. Webster, I found, shared my enthusiasm for the idea and agreed in principle.