Connecticut western news., 1880-11-17
SARA BERNHARDT,S ROMANCE. The Pleasant Youth who Loved Her
 and was Loved in Return.

While fashionable and pleasure-loving New Workers are crowding in thousands nightly to witness the acting and ap- plaud the genius of the great French tragic artiste, few, if any, among the entranced audiences who admire her splendid stateliness and her thrilling love- making on the stage are aware of the one real romance that clouded her life, and the unfortunate denouement of which is still recalled by her in leisure moments with pang of genuine sorrow. One of her intimate professional &C., quaintances thus relates the story:
 "Ah!" sighed Sara one day to her companions in the Paris theatre before she became the great artiste she now is, cit is troublesome thing to have heartw
 "Ha, ha! P laughed the dugazon of the company. "That is conceit, mad emoiselle; what ! you complain of hay ing a heart Pardonnez moi. What part are you rehearsing now? You can not refer to yourself" she went on ban teringly.
 "Yes, even I have heart," Sara re- piled, with tinge of sarcasm and re- proach in her tones.
 "Tell us your romance" one of the party asked, in conciliatory tone. "Who is the cavalier who has stormed the citadel of your affections ? Let us know the hero, for he must be one."
 "You have noticed young Michel, who was at the stage door last night ?" Sara asked, looking toward the door, as if expecting some one to enter.
 "Yes, yes" they all replied, impressed with the mysterious manner in which Sara acted "He is there every night with 8 bouquet, looking pale, anxious and lonely. "It cannot be he who troubles you," continued the loquacious dugazon.
 "Yes, it is indeed he. Poor, foolish Michel But he was not here tonight" !" and Sara again looked toward the door, her large eyes lit up with expectancy.
 "But," put in one of the cynical gen. tlemen of the company, "why do you treat him so coldly when he greets you If you love him earnestly, how can you explain your actions? Mont de ma vie, all you've got to do is-'
 "Stop," said Bernhardt "I love him In earnest, and"
 "Very well, then all the better" in- terrupted the gentleman.
 "And, alas he loves me-"
 "Better still"
 l "He is from my province. He knew me when I was young-a peasant girl, and he boy, who regarded me as sis ter. At least I thought that was all. But now"
 "Ah, now," and each of the listeners looked at each other with sly winks, thinking that last sigh was indicative o
 a weakness that would lead the grand
 artiste to tender revelations.
 But she opened not her mouth. Re
 suming her habitual frigidity and state
 liness of manner, she left the gossipine
 group more mystifed than ever.
 The following night the boy-he could
 be called nothing else-was at his place
 in the dark alleyway thatled to the stage
 door. The slight and fippant remarks
 of passers-by he needed not. One kint look or word from Bernhardt repaid hin for all. She gave him both-but no generously, nor frequently. She coul( not afford to. Or, ra>her, ruthless am
 bition would not let her.
 The poor peasant boy would wal , through the performance, until the ido came back again. From his lonely plac of vigil he could hear tho shouts of ap plause, ming gled with music, and his hear
 would grow light as he pictured hi F peasant love lowing and smiling befor f the footlights, the public's idol as wel as his. But this pleasing thought gay , way the next moment to jealousy. She loved the public better than him He was learning this night by night fro1
 bitter experience. It was breaking hi heart. There was new drama pro F duced at the Gymnase. Sara was cas F. in part which would test her talent , and demonstrate whether her aspiration , were based on conceit or genuine meri She scored 8 victory.
 On this night she left the theatre lear I ing on the arm of fine cavalier-one
 the kind who always fawn where it wi
 do the most good, personally. As sE
 passed along the alleyway, chattin
 gayly, flushed with her first success t she came face to face, as usual, with tn k pale, love-sick boy. There was @ T. s markable change in her manner. SE r was no longer cold and naughty towa1 n him. She smiled on him, stopped an t spoke in the old tones, and acted lil l. the Sara Bernhardt of his youth. e might have been acting, but the poo S mad boy did not think so. His hea r throbbed with delight. His face ocean e radiant with pleasure. To the astonis] ). ment of those who followed her al ), stopped tc gaze curiously at the strans It tableau, she dismissed her escort in u l. most peremptory tones, and invited h h compatriot, the lover of her youth, 'r occupy place in her carriage. l, Arriving at the door of her sumptuo le lodging, Sara alighted from the carriag l. and stood on hepavement in the shade y of the lamp, the boy looking wistful to into her face.
 lg Taking his hand in hers she expatiat It with him on the folly of his actions, 6 Id suring him that his best course was
 forget her. and go away to his count as home, and bestow his affections on so1 one more worthy of them than her. H ot advice was given in the spirit of sist w The foolish boy protested ardent n- against this cruel decision, and urg os her to leave Paris, with its temptation - l l,oL;l S.-o,,id cri.ro Lo,. Lon