ed by a light
crackle of compliments from an admiring circle, pleased her more than
the devotion of a genius. She had admitted, before marriage, that her
"Creole _nonchalance_" shrank wearily away from his keen and ardent
nature; and now, when torn away from the _salons_ of Paris, she seems
to have taken refuge in entertainments and lap-dogs.[82] Doubtless
even at this period Josephine evinced something of that warm feeling
which deepened with ripening years and lit up her later sorrows with a
mild radiance; but her recent association with Madame Tallien and that
giddy _cohue_ had accentuated her habits of feline complaisance to all
and sundry. Her facile fondnesses certainly welled forth far too
widely to carve out a single channel of love and mingle with the deep
torrent of Bonaparte's early passion. In time, therefore, his
affections strayed into many other courses; and it would seen that
even in the later part of this Italian epoch his conduct was
irregular. For this Josephine had herself mainly to thank. At last she
awakened to the real value and greatness of the love which her neglect
had served to dull and tarnish, but then it was too late for complete
reunion of souls: the Corsican eagle had by that time soared far
beyond reach of her highest flutterings.[83]

At Montebello, as also at Passeriano, whither the Austrian
negotiations were soon transferred, Bonaparte, though strictly
maintaining the ceremonies of his proconsular court, yet showed the
warmth of his social instincts. After the receptions of the day and
the semi-public dinner, he loved to unbend in the evening. Sometimes,
when Josephine formed a party of ladies for _vingt-et-un_, he would
withdraw to a corner and indulge in the game of _goose_; and
bystanders noted with amusement that his love of success led him to
play tricks and cheat in order not to "fall into the pit." At other
times, if the conversation languished, he proposed that each person
should tell a story; and when no Boccaccio-like facility inspired the
company, he sometimes launched out into one of those eerie and
thrilling recitals, such as he must often have heard from the
_improvisatori_ of his native island. Bourrienne states that
Bonaparte's realism required darkness and daggers for the full display
of his gifts, and that the climax of his dramatic monologue was not
seldom enhanced by the screams of the ladies, a consummation which
gratified rather than perturbed the accomplished a