"Let me say to begin with, my dear professor, that I am one of your
most fervent followers. Your last book, _Philosophy is not
Indifference_, is, in my opinion, a work of real beauty. Your
doctrine does not discourage youth, and after reading your book, I
decided to send my sons to your lectures."

Francois Darbois thanked the great author. The ice was broken. They
discussed Plato, Aristotle, Montaigne, Schaupenhauer, etc. Victorien
Sardou heard the clock strike; he had lunched hastily and had to be
back at the Conservatoire by two o'clock, as the jury still had to
hear eleven pupils. He began laughing and talking very fast, in his
habitual manner: "I must tell you, however, why I have come; your
daughter, who passed her examination this morning, is very excellent.
She has the making of a real artist; the voice, the smile, the grace,
the distinction, the manner, the rhythm. This child of fifteen has
every gift! I am now arranging a play for the Vaudeville. The
principal role is that of a very young girl. Just at present there are
only well-worn professionals in the theatre."

He rose. "Will you trust your daughter to me? I promise her a good
part, an engagement only for my play, and I assure you of her
success."

M. Darbois, in his amazement and in spite of the impatience of the
academician, withheld his answer. "Pray permit me," he said, touching
the bell, "to send for my daughter. It is with great anxiety, I admit
to you, that I have given her permission to follow a theatrical
career, so now I must consult her, while still trying to advise."

Then to the maid, "Ask Madame and Mademoiselle to come here."