Young though she was, Betsy understood the seriousness that underlay the superficial gayety most in evidence when Napoleon met her. She decided that he was not the cold, calculating man that most people thought him, but rather a man of deep feeling, capable of strong attachments.
One day, not long after he had left The Briars, a lady approached Betsy, who was in the grounds outside the house.
As she dismounted from her horse Betsy had recognized her as a French woman of high position, whose husband was one of the diplomatists then at St. Helena.
"Will you be so good," she said almost timidly to the little girl, "as to show me the part of the cottage occupied by the Emperor?"
"With pleasure," responded Betsy, leading the way to the Pavilion. The lady looked about her with great interest.
"Look!" said Betsy, pointing to the spot where the marquee had stood. "Look at this crown in the turf!"
The lady gazed for some minutes at this empty symbol of the power once held by the Emperor. The thoughts that it brought up overpowered her. Losing all self-control, she sank to her knees, sobbing hysterically. Forgetful of Betsy, she continued to weep so bitterly that the little girl started for the cottage that she might get her mother, or some one else of the household, to bring restoratives.
"Stop, stop!" cried the lady, as if realizing her purpose. "Do not call any one. I shall be myself in a moment." Then, in a voice still filled with emotion, she added, "Please do me the favor of never mentioning this to any one. All French people feel as I do. They all treasure Napoleon's memory as I do, and would willingly die for him."
Betsy gave the required promise and waited patiently until the lady had recovered her self-possession. Then the latter asked innumerable questions of the little girl about the life of Napoleon and his suite at The Briars.
Several times the visitor repeated, "How happy it must have made you to be with the Emperor!"