tempted to do so, and
never with Frenchmen. Her reception of them was freezing to a degree,
and on the occasions--few and far between--when she thawed, it was with
Russians, Englishmen, or Viennese. Any male of the Latin races she held
metaphorically as well as literally at arm's length. Of the
gracefulness, so apparent on the stage, even in her decline, there was
not a trace to be found in private life. One of her shoulders was higher
than the other; she limped slightly, and, moreover, waddled like a duck.
The pinched mouth was firmly set; there was no smile on the colourless
lips, and she replied to one's remarks in monosyllables.

Truly she had suffered a cruel wrong at the hands of men--of one man,
bien entendu; nevertheless, the wonder to most people who knew her was
not that Comte Gilbert de Voisins should have left her so soon after
their marriage, but that he should have married her at all. "The fact
was," said some one with whom I discussed the marriage one day, "that De
Voisins considered himself in honour bound to make that reparation, but
I cannot conceive what possessed him to commit the error that made the
reparation necessary." And I am bound to say that it was not the utter
lack of personal attractions that made every one, men and women alike,
indifferent to Taglioni. She was what the French call "une
_pimbeche_."[10] "Am I not a good-natured woman?" said Mdlle. Mars one
day to Hoffman, the blood-curdling novelist. "Mademoiselle, you are the
most amiable creature I know between the footlights and the cloth," he
replied. No one could have paid Taglioni even such a left-handed
compliment, for, if all I heard was true, she was not good-tempered
either on or off the stage. Dr. Veron, who was really a very loyal
friend, was very reticent about her character, and would never be drawn
into revelations. "You know the French proverb," he said once, when I
pressed him very closely. "'On ne herite pas de ceux que l'on tue;' and,
after all, she helped me to make my fortune."

[Footnote 10: The word "shrew" is the nearest
equivalent.--EDITOR.]

That evening I was seated next to Mdlle. Taglioni at dinner, and when
she discovered my nationality she unbent a little, so that towards the
dessert we were on comparatively friendly terms. She had evidently very
grateful recollections of her engagements in London, for it was the only
topic on which I could get her to talk on that occasion. Here is a
littl