at moment at any other price, or that England
could not have dispensed with that co-operation, but he, my informant,
considered then that the alliance would be more closely cemented by that
visit. Nor am I called upon to anticipate the final verdict of the
social historian with regard to "that act of courtesy" on the part of
the Queen of England, not the least justified boast of whose reign it is
that she purified the morals of her court by her own example. Still, one
may safely assume, in this instance, that the virtue of Mdlle. de
Montijo would have been proof against the "blandishments of the future
Emperor," even if she had not had the advice and countenance of her
mother, whose Scotch blood would not have stood trifling with her
daughter's affections and reputation. But to make the fortress of that
heart doubly impregnable, the Comtesse de Montijo scarcely ever left her
second daughter's side. It was a great sacrifice on her part, because
Mdlle. Eugenie de Montijo was not her favourite child; that position was
occupied by her elder, the Duchesse d'Albe. "Mais, on est mere, ou on ne
l'est pas?" says Madame Cardinal.[59]

[Footnote 59: The author alludes to the Madame Cardinal of
Ludovic Halevy, who sequestrates her daughter because the
baron, her would-be protector, is hanging back with the
settlements.--EDITOR.]

Mdlle. de Montijo, then, became the guiding spirit of the fetes at the
Elysee. She and her mother had travelled a great deal, so had
Louis-Napoleon; the latter not enough, apparently, to have learnt the
wisdom of the French proverb, "Gare a la femme dont le berceau a ete une
malle, et le pensionnat une table d'hote."

I have spoken elsewhere of the Coup d'Etat and of the company at the
Elysee, immediately previous to it and afterwards; early in 1852--

"The little done _did_ vanish to the mind,
Which forward _saw_ how much remained to do."

The Prince-President undertook a journey to the southern parts of
France, which he was pleased to call "an interrogation to the country."
It was that to a certain extent, only the country had been crammed with
one reply to it, "Vive l'empereur." Calmly reviewing things from a
distance of a quarter of a century, it was the best reply the nation
could have made. "Society has been too long like a pyramid turned upside
down. I replaced it on its base," said Louis-Napoleon, on the 29th of
March, 1852, when he opened the first ses