isits which they had
made to the different institutions of the capital. On the eve of his
departure the king had a long private interview with the First Consul;
and though I do not know what passed, I observed that on coming out
neither appeared to be satisfied with the other. However, their
Majesties, on the whole, should have carried away a most favorable
impression of the manner in which they had been received.

CHAPTER VIII.

In all the fetes given by the First Consul in honor of their Majesties,
the King and Queen of Etruria, Mademoiselle Hortense shone with that
brilliancy and grace which made her the pride of her mother, and the most
beautiful ornament of the growing court of the First Consul.

About this time she inspired a most violent passion in a gentleman of a
very good family, who was, I think, a little deranged before this mad
love affected his brain. This poor unfortunate roamed incessantly around
Malmaison; and as soon as Mademoiselle Hortense left the house, ran by
the side of her carriage with the liveliest demonstrations of tenderness,
and threw through the window flowers, locks of his hair, and verses of
his own composition. When he met Mademoiselle Hortense on foot, he threw
himself on his knees before her with a thousand passionate gestures,
addressing her in most endearing terms, and followed her, in spite of all
opposition, even into the courtyard of the chateau, and abandoned himself
to all kinds of folly. At first Mademoiselle Hortense, who was young and
gay, was amused by the antics of her admirer, read the verses which he
addressed to her, and showed them to the ladies who accompanied her. One
such poetical effusion was enough to provoke laughter (and can you blame
her?); but after the first burst of laughter, Mademoiselle Hortense, good
and charming as her mother, never failed to say, with a sympathetic
expression and tone, "The poor man, he is much to be pitied!" At last,
however, the importunities of the poor madman increased to such an extent
that they became insupportable. He placed himself at the door of the
theaters in Paris at which Mademoiselle Hortense was expected, and threw
himself at her feet, supplicating, weeping, laughing, and gesticulating
all at once. This spectacle amused the crowd too much to long amuse
Mademoiselle de Beauharnais; and Carrat was ordered to remove the poor
fellow, who was placed, I think, in a private asylum for the insane.

Mademoiselle Hortense