In the Courts of Memory 1858-1875. | Page 7

don't imitate
my crack."
"Oh," I said, "I love to hear you sing. I don't even hear the crack."
"Ah," he sighed, "if it had not been for that crack I should be in the
opera now."
"I am glad," I answered, "that you are not there; for then you would not
be here, teaching me." I think this pleased him.
Sometimes he is very nervous. Once, when I was singing "Voi che
sapete," the tears rolled down his cheeks, and another time, when he
was showing me how to sing it "so," I burst into tears, and the poor
man had to order his servant to bring me some sherry to restore my
nerves. There is one phrase in this song which I never can hear sung, or

never can sing myself, without emotion.
The season is getting so late mama thinks we ought to leave London,
especially as Garcia is taking his vacation, and we are going in a few
days to Paris.
Garcia has given us a letter to his sister, Madame Viardot (of whom he
said she had brains but no voice). He wrote: "I send you my pupil. Do
all you can to persuade her to go on the stage. She has it in her."
But Madame Viardot may "do all she can"; I will never go on the stage.
If "it" is in me, it must work out some other way.
PARIS, _May, 1861._
DEAR A.,--Mother will have written to you of my engagement to
Charles Moulton. I wish you would come and see me married, and that
I could present all my future family to the most lovable of aunts.
I think I shall have everything to make me happy. In the first place, my
fiancé is very musical, composes charming things, and plays
delightfully on the piano; my future mother-in-law is a dear old lady,
musical and universally talented; my future father-in-law is a
_bona-fide_ American, a dear quixotic old gentleman who speaks the
most awful French. Although he has lived in Paris for forty years, he
has never conquered the pronunciation of the French language, but has
invented a unique dialect of his own. Every word that can be
pronounced in English he pronounces in English, as well as all numbers.
For instance, a phrase such as _La guerre de mille huit cent quinze était
une démonstration de la liberté nationale_ would sound like this: "La
gur de 1815 (in English) était une demonstration (in English) de la
liberty national." It is almost impossible to understand him; but he will
read for hours unabashed, not only to us, the drowsy and inattentive
members of his family, but to the most fastidious and illustrious
Frenchmen. There are two brothers and a sweet little sister. I shall have
a beautiful home, or rather homes, because they have not only a
handsome hotel in Paris, but an ideal country place (Petit Val) and a
villa in Dinard.
Good-by. Greet all the united family from me, and tell them not to
worry over my future, as you wrote they were doing. I have renounced
forever the pomps and allurements of the stage, and I trust the leaves on
the genealogical tree will cease their trembling, and that the Fays, my
ancestors, will not trouble themselves to turn in their graves, as you

threatened they would if I did anything to disgrace them.
CHÂTEAU DE PETIT VAL, _June, 1862._
DEAREST A.,--I wish I could give you an idea of Petit Val and our life
as lived by me. Petit Val is about twelve miles from Paris, and was
built for the Marquis de Marigny, whose portrait still hangs in the
salon--the brother of Madame de Pompadour--by the same architect
who built and laid out the park of Petit Trianon.
There is an avenue of tall poplar-trees leading from Petit Val straight to
Choisy-le-Roi, where Madame de Pompadour lived, a distance of ten
miles.
Like Petit Trianon, Petit Val has little lakes with shady trees bordering
them; it has grottos, waterfalls, winding paths, magnificent greenhouses,
fountains, a _rivière_, pavilions, aviaries, terraces, charmilles, berceaux,
_enfin tout!_ One feels like saying, "Mein Liebchen, was willst du
mehr?" as the poet Heine says. The park is surrounded by a saut de
loup (a sunken wall about twenty feet high like "la Muette" in Paris).
There is no need of putting up sign-boards with "No trespassing here"
as no one could scale the walls of the saut de loup, so we feel very safe,
especially when the five iron gates are locked. Beyond the park are the
chasse, the farm, the vineyards, and the potager. We are so near Paris
that we have many visitors. The drive out here is a pleasant one, going
through Vincennes, Charenton, Alfort, etc., and one can get