illingly thrown overboard the whole of her family
with its doubtful antecedents, which naturally identified it with that
brilliant and cosmopolitan society, "dans laquelle en fait d'hommes, il
n'y a que des declasses, et en fait de femmes que des trop-bien
classees." The Bonapartes themselves had, after all, a by no means
cleaner bill of health, but, as usual, the woman was made the scapegoat;
for though a good many men of ancient lineage, such as the Prince
Charles de Beauveau, the Duc de Crillon, the Duc de Beauveau-Craon, the
Duc de Montmorency, the Marquis de Larochejaquelein, the Marquis de
Gallifet, the Duc de Mouchy, etc., rallied to the new regime, most of
them refused at first to bring their wives and daughters to the
Tuileries, albeit that they went themselves. When a man neglects to
introduce his womenkind to the mistress of the house at which he visits,
one generally knows the opinion he and the world entertain--rightly or
wrongly--of the status of the lady; and the rule is supposed to hold
good everywhere throughout civilized society. Yet the Emperor tolerated
this.

Knowing what I do of Napoleon's private character, I am inclined to
think that, but for dynastic and political reasons, he would have
willingly dispensed with the rigidly virtuous woman at the Tuileries,
then and afterwards. But at that moment he was perforce obliged to make
advances to her, and the rebuffs received in consequence were taken with
a sang-froid which made those who administered them wince more than
once. At each renewed refusal he was ready with an epigram: "Encore une
dame qui n'est pas assez sure de son passe pour braver l'opinion
publique;" "Celle-la, c'est la femme de Cesar, hors de tout soupcon,
comme il y a des criminels qui sont hors la loi;" "Madame de ----; il
n'y a pas de faux pas dans sa vie, il n'y a qu'un faux papa, le pere de
ses enfants."

For Louis-Napoleon could be exceedingly witty when he liked, and his wit
lost nothing by the manner in which he delivered his witticisms. Not a
muscle of his face moved--he merely blinked his eyes.

"Si on avait voulu me donner une princesse allemande," he said to his
most intimate friends, "je l'aurais epousee: si je ne l'avais pas autant
aimee que j'aime Mademoiselle de Montijo, j'aurais au moins ete plus sur
de sa betise; avec une Espagnole on n'est jamais sur."

Whether he meant the remark for his future consort or not, I am unable
to say, but Mademoiselle de Montijo was