Whether she were an Italian
or a German, a Gaul or a Greek, was equally unknown. An air of mystery
environed the most celebrated creature in Europe. There were odd
whispers of her parentage. Every potentate was in turn entitled to the
gratitude of mankind for the creation of this marvel. Now it was an
emperor, now a king. A grand duke then put in his claim, and then an
archduke. To-day she was married, tomorrow she was single. To-day her
husband was a prince incog., to-morrow a drum-major well known. Even
her name was a mystery; and she was known and worshipped throughout the
whole civilised world by the mere title of '_The Bird of Paradise!_'
About a month before Easter telegraphs announced her arrival. The
Admiralty yacht was too late. She determined to make her first
appearance at the opera: and not only the young Duke, but even a
far more exalted personage, was disappointed in the sublime idea of
anticipating the public opinion by a private concert. She was to appear
for the first time on Tuesday; the House of Commons adjourned.
The curtain is drawn up, and the house is crowded. Everybody is there
who is anybody.
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