e
daring adventuress, who, notwithstanding her impecuniosity, flew at the
highest game to be had, that I transcribe it in full. I am often
reluctant to trust to my memory: in this instance I may; I remember
every word of it. This almost illiterate schemer, who probably had not
the remotest notion of geography, of history, had pretty well "the
Almanach de Gotha" by heart, and seemed to guess instinctively at things
which said Almanach carefully abstained from mentioning, namely, the
good understanding or the reverse between the married royal couples of
Europe, etc.

"Why did I not come to Paris!" she replied. "What was the good of coming
to Paris where there was a king, bourgeois to his finger-nails,
tight-fisted besides, and notoriously the most moral and best father all
the world over; with princes who were nearly as much married as their
dad, and with those who were single far away? What was the good of
coming to a town where you could not bear the title of 'la maitresse du
prince' without the risk of being taken to the frontier between two
gendarmes, where you could not have squeezed a thousand louis out of any
of the royal sons for the life of you? What was the good of trying to
get a count, where the wife of a grocer or a shoemaker might have
objected to your presence at a ball, on the ground of your being an
immoral person? No, I really meant to make my way to the Hague. I had
heard that William II. whacked his wife like any drunken labourer, so
that his sons had to interfere every now and then. I had heard this in
Calcutta, and from folk who were likely to know. But as I thought that I
might have the succession of the whacks, as well as of the lord, I
wanted to try my chance at Brussels first; besides, I hadn't much
money."

"But King Leopold is married, and lives very happily with his wife," I
interrupted.

"Of course he does--they all do," was the answer; "mais ca n'empeche pas
les sentiments, does it?" I am very ignorant, and haven't a bit of
memory, but I once heard a story about a Danish or Swedish king--I do
not know the difference--who married an adventuress like myself, though
the queen and the mother of his heir was alive. He committed bigamy, but
kings and queens may do things we mayn't. One day, he and his lawful
wife were at one of their country seats, and, leaning out of the window,
when a carriage passed with a good-looking woman in it, 'Who is this
lady?' asked the queen. 'That's my wife,' repl