d intelligent letters, and Madame Charvet well
deserved this double praise. My father-in-law's friend, while replying
to the question of the General-in-chief, took occasion to relate the
misfortunes of the family, and the General remarked that, on his return
to Paris, he wished to meet M. and Madame Charvet; in consequence of
which they were presented to him, and Madame Bonaparte rejoiced to learn
that her protegees had also become those of her husband. It had been
decided that M. Charvet should follow the General to Egypt; but when my
father-in-law arrived at Toulon, Madame Bonaparte requested that he
should accompany her to the waters of Plombieres. I have previously
related the accident which occurred at Plombieres, and that M. Charvet
was sent to Saint-Germain to bring Mademoiselle Hortense from the
boarding-school to her mother. On his return to Paris, M. Charvet
searched through all the suburbs to find a country-seat, as the General
had charged his wife to purchase one during his absence.

When Madame Bonaparte decided on Malmaison, M. Charvet, his wife, and
their three children were installed in this charming residence.

My father-in-law was very faithful to the interests of these benefactors
of his family, and Madame Charvet often acted as private secretary to
Madame Bonaparte.

Mademoiselle Louise, who became my wife, and Mademoiselle Zoe, her
younger sister, were favorites of Madame Bonaparte, especially the
latter, who passed more time than Louise at Malmaison. The condescension
of their noble protectress had rendered this child so familiar, that she
said thou habitually to Madame Bonaparte. One day she said to her, "Thou
art happy. Thou hast no mamma to scold thee when thou tearest thy
dresses."

During one of the campaigns that I made while in the service of the
Emperor, I wrote to my wife, inquiring about the life that her sister led
at Malmaison. In her answer, among other things, she said (I copy a
passage from one of her letters): "Sometimes we take part in performances
such as I had never dreamed of. For instance, one evening the saloon was
divided in half by a gauze curtain, behind which was a bed arranged in
Greek style, on which a man lay asleep, clothed in long white drapery.
Near the sleeper Madame Bonaparte and the other ladies beat in unison
(not in perfect accord, however) on bronze vases, making, as you may
imagine, a terrible kind of music. During this charivari, one of the
gentlemen held