538 



The Rkvikw of Reviews. 



He once rpcalleil every detail abnul the dress which I had worn 

 at a certain performance at the opera, where I had been sealed 

 exactly opposite his l;ox, and then proceeded to describe the 

 diadem of a friend of mine who bad sat near me at the same 

 gala performance. He explained that he so much admired the 

 original design that he liad had a similar one made lor a wed- 

 ding present. He then spoke of music, knowing how I loved 

 music, and further astounded me by naming, during the con- 

 versation, nearly all the items of the programme on that night. 



He had a charming sense of humour, and I remember him 

 saying : " In France, I enjoy myself, look round, and talk ; in 

 Germany, 1 observe and let others talk ; in England ... 1 shan't 

 tell you what I do in England. I should be divulging State 

 secrets I " 



At a great garden party at the British Embassy 

 an eminent English personage, mentioning the Tact 

 that the Embassy was formerly the house of the 

 notorious Pauline Borghese, addeti : — " Don't you 

 think there is something piquant in the fact that the 

 Ambassador of stern and solemn Old England lives in 

 the house which once belonged to a famous crowned 

 courtesan ? " 



BONNAT, MASSENET AND COPPEE. 



Amongst the Frenchmen who frequented the salon 

 of Madame Steinheil — 



Three men stand out as faithful and trusted friends — three 

 men wontlerfully gifted and yet wonderfully modest, three men 

 with golden hearts and lofty minds : Bonnat, the painter ; 

 Massenet, the composer ; and Coppee, the poet. . . . Bonnat 

 worked in silence. He did not think it necessary to make his 

 model talk so as to get at his, or her, "psychology," but was 

 satisfied with painting what he saw. In this, he reminded me 

 of Kodin, the greatest sculptor since Michelangelo, whom I 

 once heard say : "the artist cannot improve upon nature, and 

 Life is Beauty." 



Massenet, the composer of Manon, T/iais, SiiJ>/io, IVerl/ier, 

 and so many other delightful operas, did me, for many years, 

 the great honour of calling himself my "respectful, obedient, 

 and faithful accompanist." I always found him whimsical, 

 enthusiastic, mischievous, and fond of jokes. As he enteretl 

 my salon, at some crowded reception, he would wave aside the 

 valet about to announce his name, and shout in a stentorian 

 voice : " Massenet ! " . . . Once he added " Grand Officer of 

 the Legion of Hojiour, author of a score of operas, member of 

 several academies!" lie said himself} "I am a composer, 

 that's true and I can't help it, but at the same time I love fun 

 and youth, and boys of sixty are incorrigible." 



Franfois Cop])ee, an old comrade of my husband's and one 

 of my " faithful," as he called himself, lived close to us and 

 often came in to have a chat, to look at the flowers in my 

 " winter garden," or to listen to music. 



One day, when Reyer, the composer of SigioJ was present, 

 he remarked that music w.is not only the most sociological and 

 popular of arts, it was also the easiest. "I could not play a 

 chord, but I feel sure that it is easier to express one's self in 

 music than in written words. ..." 



Reyer decreed : " It is quite as difficult to frame a melody as 

 to frame a sonnet." But Coppee refused to believe it, and 

 going to the piano, he struck a note mightily. "That's a war- 

 cry," he exclaimed ; then touched the same note gently, "And 

 that's melancholy," and playing it once more as softly as pos- 

 sible, " And that's reverie : Music is above all wonderful 

 because it is so simple I " It was a mere sally on his ]»rl, and 

 Reyer laughed heartily. 



ZOLA, GOURMET AND OBSERVER. 



Madame Steinheil gives us the following character 

 portrait of Zola, with whom she once had a discussion 

 on the peasants of France, saying : " I have loved 

 the peasants," onlv to have the repl\-, " I have observed 

 ♦hem." 



The author of the " I\oujon-Maci|uarts" was niaidy and 

 brave, besides being an able, if unsympathetic, novelist, but lie 

 had, to my knowledge, one little failing — he disliked talent in 

 others, and one weakness — he was a gourmet. Therefore, un 

 the two or three occasions when he dined with us, I arrani;* 'I 

 a menu which Brillat .Savarin would have endorsed, and took 

 care not to invite any other writer. Zola lacked in conversation 

 v;hat he lacked in his writing — delicacy, refinement, lightness. 

 He was heavy, jionilerous, and rather aggressive. I teased him 

 one day : " How is the chase after human docunienls going 

 on?" I asked. 



" Ouite well, madame. I hunt my quarry everywhere and 

 all day long. Human documents, slices of life, searching 

 character-studies, that is all there is in literature." 



"But what of the writer's personality ? Is that of no account 

 whatever ? " 



" It shouldn't be. I try to eliminate my personali'y from 

 my books ..." 



" And don't you succeed ?" 1 asked. 



" I have the misfortune of 'ueing possessed of a temperament 

 which I cannot altogether get rid of, alas I " came the pompous 

 reply. 



A BON MOT BY HENNER. 



Amongst the "faithful" I must not forget to mention 

 Henner, "the great painter of the flesh," as he called himself 

 in one of his rare poetic moments. ... I never knew Henner 

 to be embarrassed. We treated him like a member of the 

 family, and one day, wishing to make him understand that his 

 nails were really too grimy, I asked him whether he wished to 

 wash his hands before dinner. 



He looked at his nails, understood, and quietly said : " I am 

 in mourning for Alsace and Lorraine." 



THE MEETING WITH F^LIX FAURE. 



This life, busy ■with social duties and emptinesses, 

 continued for over fifteen years, from marriage to the 

 crime of May 30th, 1908. Madame Steinheil, the 

 envied and sought-for, had her moments when she 

 " loathed the artificiality of Parisian life," but, 

 naturally enough, she continued to enjoy it. The 

 culminating moment of her life, from a worldly point 

 of view, was when she became " the friend and 

 confidante of Ftli.x Faure, elected President of the 

 Republic in January, 1895." She thus describes her 

 first introduction, when, on a visit to the Alps, she and 

 her husband met Felix Faure, there for manceuvTes : — 



There, below me, was a group of men, and one of them, 

 wearing a red shirt, a bro\\n suit, yellowish gaiters, and a white 

 bhi't^ looked up at me and said something I coidd not hear. I 

 believe he asked whether he should stop to be photographed. 

 I failed to recognise the President of the Republic and his suite. 

 But shortly afterwards an officer came 10 ask whether M. and 

 Mnic. Steinheil would lunch with the President. 

 QUEEN OF PARIS. 



Matters progressed rapidly. Felix Faure visited the 

 house of the Impa.sse Rousin, Madame Steinheil was 

 overwhelmed with invitations to the Eh'see, flowers 

 rained upon her, while to her daughter the inlatuated 

 President sent " a perfect doll, with a complete 

 trousseau, exactly the same as I am sending to the 

 Tsar's daughter." The acquaintance soon developed 

 and Madame Steinheil became a political ad\iser to 

 the President, meeting him almost every day, either in 

 the Bois or at the Elysee : — 



A new life began for me ; my role of confidante had its 

 difticullics and even its dangers, but it had a wonderful fascina- 

 tion. My iolon was now more crowtletl than ever befine. 



She then began her reign as "Queen of 1 aris,'' 



