it off and found it to be
very heavy, so heavy that I remarked upon it. "Yes," she replied, "I
cannot wear two of the same weight, so I am obliged to wear the other in
my pocket." And out came the second, composed of nearly double the
number of rings of the first. I was wondering where all those rings came
from, but I refrained from asking questions. I was enabled to form my
own conclusions a little while afterwards, in the following way:

While we were still admiring the bracelet, Rachel took from her finger a
plain gold hoop, in the centre of which was an imperial eagle of the
same metal. "This was given to me by Prince Louis Napoleon," she said,
"on the occasion of my last journey to London. He told me that it was a
souvenir from his mother, and that he would not have parted with it to
any one else but me."

I cannot remember the exact date of this conversation, but it must have
been shortly after the Revolution, when the future emperor had just
landed in France. About three or four weeks afterwards we were talking
to Augustine Brohan, who had just returned from London, where she had
fulfilled an engagement of one or two months. Rachel was not there that
night, but some one asked her if she had seen Prince Louis in London.
"Yes," she replied; "he was going away, and he gave me a present before
he went." Thereupon she took from her finger a ring exactly like that of
Rachel's. "He told me it was a souvenir from his mother, and that he
would not have parted with it to any one but me."

We looked at one another and smiled. The prince had evidently a jeweller
who manufactured "souvenirs from his mother" by the dozen, and which he,
the prince, distributed at that time, "in remembrance of certain happy
hours." The multiplicity of the rings on Rachel's wrist was no longer a
puzzle to me. I was thinking of the story in the "Arabian Nights," where
the lady with the ninety-eight rings bewitches the Sultans Shariar and
Shahzenan, in spite of the jealousy and watchfulness of the monster to
whom she belongs, and so makes the hundred complete.

Among the many stories Rachel told me there is one not generally
known--that of her first appearance before Nicholas I. Though she was
very enthusiastically received in London, and though she always spoke
gratefully of the many acts of kindness shown her there, I am inclined
to think that she felt hurt at the want of cordiality on the part of the
English aristocracy when they invited her