“I thank you,” she said. “The emperor had great esteem for your grandfather; he liked to talk with him. Mr. Rowrer was a remarkable man—rather, he was a man!” added the empress, who had seen so many who were not men.
Ethel blushed with pleasure. Newspaper head-lines constantly made sport of her family, and here was the one-time arbitress of Europe glorifying her grandfather and saying to her “I thank you!”
Then they chatted for a while. Eugénie admired this young girl in her simple elegance and superb health. At the court itself she had never seen a figure more princess-like and radiant.
“When I was a little girl,” Ethel said, “my grandfather often spoke to us of those days of glory.”
At the word “glory” Eugénie interrupted her.
Miss Ethel and Empress Eugénie
“Miss Rowrer,” she said, pointing with her hand toward the Tuileries, “see what remains of it. There is nothing left. All has passed, all has changed around me. This was once my Paris. It is now yours. I say yours, for, don’t you see, mademoiselle, the true sovereigns are young girls like you with their grace and health? To you the world belongs. Ah, what happiness it is to be young!”
There was a moment of silence. The dame de compagnie was arranging flowers in a vase. The empress sat dreaming. Did she see again the eighteen years of power wherein she held in her hand the scepter of France? Or the palace which had been destroyed, crumbled into dust, leaving not a wrack behind? Did she think of Miss Rowrer, to-day’s young queen, who came to pay her tribute of respect to the royalty of other days? of the conquering force which this young girl represented, the supreme outcome of an ambitious race? of the temptations without number which would assail a creature so spoiled by fate?