“‘Idiot!’ interrupted the princess, ‘not to know your business better; remember that such as these are not anybody, but NOBODY.’
“With these words she tossed out of the room, pointing with her fan over her shoulder at the poor stupified provincials, whose rage and mortification defy description. They were not slow to spread the tale of her insolence and haughtiness throughout the country round, and the circumstance caused the princess to be viewed with no very friendly eye, as you may well imagine.
“Soon after this occurrence, having occasion to visit Paris, she left Valençay in her carriage, drawn by four horses, and driven by the postmaster himself. Her highness was always in a most tremendous hurry, and loved to be driven at a tremendous rate. This the postmaster knew well, as he had been in the habit of driving her for years. He accordingly took much pains upon the occasion to which I refer, to go as slowly as possible, in order to vex and worry the princess, whose temper was not long in breaking forth, and she presently began by calling after the driver in the most imperious manner to hasten his speed. This injunction not being attended to with as much alacrity as she could have wished, she began to pour forth volleys of abuse, seasoned with sundry fierce sounding exclamations and oaths in the Polish language, to which, upon great occasions like the present, she was wont to give utterance, (according to her own account, quite unconsciously.) The man bore this for some little time, perhaps rather more diverted than otherwise at the thought of the trick he was playing one of those ‘infernal aristocrats;’ until at length, no longer able to contain her indignation, the princess seized the footstool which was at the bottom of the carriage, and hurled it at the postillion, with such unsteady aim however, that the missile flew far above his head. ‘Dolt!’ shouted she, standing upright in the carriage, and gesticulating fiercely, ‘do you imagine you are carrying a load of manure to market?’ ‘Ma foi!’ exclaimed the postmaster, coolly dismounting from the saddle, ‘many’s the load of manure I’ve taken which has fetched at market twenty times more than you would have done there!’ With these words, he deliberately set about unharnessing the horses from the carriage, and bidding the other postillion do likewise, he turned back towards Valençay, leaving the carriage standing alone in the midst of the long solitary road, with not a human habitation in sight and night coming on. The shrieks and menaces of the lady were all in vain; the man having paused to light his pipe, with the greatest sang froid, jogged by the carriage window, cracking his whip with fiendish enjoyment of her terror, until he got to the very bottom of the hill, and was lost sight of. The princess could never be prevailed upon to tell the sequel of the story, nor of the means by which she had been extricated from her most mortifying situation; and, as neither of her tall valets nor her talkative maids could ever be induced to betray the secret, it was thought that she had compelled them all four to turn out into the road and drag the carriage to some wayside ale-house, where she could rest till horses arrived. I know not if this was the case, but she certainly was quite capable of doing it.
“A goodly volume might be filled with her naïvetés and unconscious witticisms; for it was her total indifference to the good things that she uttered, and her contempt for the effect which they produced, that constituted their greatest charm.
“I shall never forget the effect produced in the salon one evening by an event which occurred a short time before the prince’s embassy to London, and which served to égayer the society for some time. Among other ancient traditions of the courtly life of former days which she loved to keep up, and one, too, which completely coincided with her tastes and habits, was the custom of the petit billet, a usage which has been completely lost since the time of the great revolution, and which might be taken as a specimen of the time-killing, fiddle-faddle occupations in which the noblesse of that day passed their lives.
“This custom of the petit billet still exists in many of the old families wherein courtesy and etiquette are still maintained, at least among the elder members. It consisted in writing a short note of inquiry every morning to the person beloved, who answered it likewise in writing, for no verbal message would have been received. Of course the contents of the note could not be much varied. There could be nothing to say but day after day the same ‘good morrow,’ with inquiries how the night had been passed, and other questions of small interest, which the present generation, who live deep and fast, expending their sentiments and energies on greater things, have no time to make. I myself know a married couple of the old school who, like all married couples of the old (French) school, have been separated de corps et de biens for the last forty years, and who have never missed once during the whole of that time sending the petit billet de matin. I was once thoughtless enough to rally the lady upon this constancy, when she replied, angrily, ‘Monsieur, although Monsieur le Comte and myself may not choose to live together, yet our mutual position, and the rank we both hold in society, prevent our enjoying the privilege of dispensing with the common customs and formalities of the circles in which we have both been bred. In renouncing all idea of love for each other, we have not renounced good breeding.’
“Well, the princess, who was, as I tell you, à cheval upon etiquette with regard to the prince, never appeared in the morning without having been preceded by her petit billet, although the prince never thought fit to encourage her absurdity by sending a written answer. One evening, she had retired earlier than usual, and, shortly after, just as the company was breaking up, a note was handed to the prince by the princess’s valet. We were all rather alarmed at first, fearing that she might have been seized with illness; but presently the billet was handed about amid roars of laughter; there was nought to fear; it ran thus: ‘Cher prince. How are you this morning? I myself am far from well, having passed a wretched night, although when I did sleep, I dreamed of you, which was some little consolation amid all my agitation and restlessness.’ The note bore the morrow’s date, and had been given by the careless servant some twelve or fourteen hours too soon! Upon inquiry, it proved to be the habit of the princess to write these little billets over night, to avoid being disturbed in the morning; they were laid on her toilet table, whence the valet had taken the one in question, without inquiry and without reflection. Of course the prince was merciless; the Princess de T—— furnished the standing joke of the season, and was never left in peace until some new absurdity caused the story of her ‘precautionary measure’ to fade in the background.”