of themselves--a flattery they sincerely believed above all
price.

I had heard much of the overweening vanity and conceit of the
Legitimists, but the reality far exceeded all my notions of them. There
was no pretence, no affectation whatever about them. They implicitly
believed that in 'accepting the Corsican,' as the phrase went, they were
displaying a condescension and self-negation unparalleled in history.
The tone of superiority thus assumed of course made them seem supremely
ridiculous to my eyes--I, who had sacrificed heavily enough for the
Empire, and yet felt myself amply rewarded. But apart from these
exaggerated ideas of themselves, they were most amiable, gentle
mannered, and agreeable.

The ladies and gentlemen of what was called the 'Service' associated
all together, dining at the same table, and spending each evening in a
handsome suite appropriated to themselves. Hither some one or other of
the Imperial family occasionally came to play his whist, or chat away an
hour in pleasant gossip--these distinguished visitors never disturbing
in the slightest degree the easy tone of the society, nor exacting any
extraordinary marks of notice or attention.

The most frequent guest was the Archduke Louis, whose gaiety of
temperament and easy humour induced him to pass nearly every evening
with us. He was fond of cards, but liked to talk away over his game, and
make play merely subsidiary to the pleasure of conversation. As I was
but an indifferent 'whister,' but a most admirable auditor, I was always
selected to make one of his party.

It was on one of the evenings when we were so engaged, and the archduke
had been displaying a more than ordinary flow of good spirits and
merriment, a sudden lull in the approving laughter, and a general
subsidence of every murmur, attracted my attention. I turned my head to
see what had occurred, and perceived that some of the company had risen,
and were standing with eyes directed to the open door.

'The archduchess, your Imperial Highness!' whispered an aide-de-camp to
the prince, and he immediately rose from the table, an example speedily
followed by the others. I grasped my chair with one hand, and, with my
sword in the other, tried to stand up, an effort which hitherto I had
never accomplished without aid. It was all in vain--my debility utterly
denied the attempt. I tried again, but, overcome by pain and weakness, I
was compelled to abandon the effort, and sink down on my s