Adventures and Letters
Chicago, it is most interesting. How lively it is inside of the chamber where the thing is
going on I cannot say. I shall not wait to hear the result, but will return on the coach.
Nothing could be more curious than the apparent indifference of the people of Paris to the
assassination of the President. Two days after he died there was not a single flag at half
mast among the private residences. The Government buildings, the hotels and the stores
were all that advertised their grief. I shall have an interesting story to write of it for the
Parisian series. Dana Gibson and I will wait until after the funeral and then go to
Andorra. If he does not go, I may go alone, but perhaps I shall go back to London at
once. This has been an interesting time here, but only because it is so different from what
one would expect. It reads like a burlesque to note the expressions of condolence from all
over the world, and to mark the self-satisfaction of the French at attracting so much
sympathy, and their absolute indifference to the death of Carnot. It is most curious. We
have an ideal time. Never before have I had such jolly dinners, with such good talk and
such amusing companions.
LONDON, July 15, 1894. DEAR MOTHER:
Mr. Irving gave a supper last night to Mme. Bernhardt and Mme. Rejane. There were
about twenty people, and we ate in the Beefsteak Room of the Lyceum Theater, which is
so called after the old Beefsteak Club which formerly met there. I had a most delightful
time, and talked to all the French women and to Miss Terry, who sent her love to Dad.
She said, "I did not SEE him this last visit; that is, I saw him but I did not see him." Her
daughter is a very sweet girl, and the picture Miss Terry made on her knees looking up at
Bernhardt and Rejane when they chattered in French was wonderful. Neither she nor
Irving could speak a word of French, and whenever any one else tried, the crowd all
stood in a circle and applauded and guyed them. After it was over, at about three in the
morning, Miss Terry offered me a lift home in her open carriage, so she and her daughter
and I rode through the empty streets in the gray light for miles and miles, as, of course, I
did not get out of such company any sooner than I had to do. They had taken Irving's robe
of cardinal red and made it into cloaks, and they looked very odd and eerie with their
yellow hair and red capes, and talking as fast as they could.