‘I cordially agree with you, prince,’ I said. ‘I often had the opportunity of seeing Queen Hortense at the beginning of her grandeur. During the rapid advances of her fortunes she did not change, and amidst all the imperial pomp and splendour she remained natural and unaffected. She seems to have been born with an instinctive feeling for art and with the germs of talent; she sings and plays on several instruments the charming music of her own composition. She draws with rare perfection. More precious than all this, though, is her sprightly kindness, which her mother appears to have transmitted to her. Both, while attaining the highest positions it is given to mortals to reach, lost none of the qualities which compel affection in the most obscure conditions.’ ‘I am pleased to hear you speak like that. I am of opinion that the most admirable quality of mankind is the faculty for admiring. I detest people who are always looking for the interest underlying a good action. Bear this in mind: only grovelling natures seek to disparage talent; and fools only applaud the envious.’ The curtain had been lowered to set the final picture which was to conclude the whole of the spectacle in a most brilliant manner. It was to represent Olympus with all the mythological divinities. Nothing had been neglected to make the execution worthy of the grandeur of the subject. There had, nevertheless, been a temporary apprehension with regard to the smooth progress of its course. There had been for two whole days negotiations far more difficult and delicate in their nature than those usually pending between diplomatic celebrities; and it wanted nothing less than an intervention from high quarters to settle a question which the sapient assembly would probably have failed to bring to a satisfactory conclusion. The facts were as follows: All the rôles of the tenants on Olympus had been distributed. Prince Leopold de Saxe-Cobourg, in consequence of his remarkably handsome presence, had been cast for the part of Jupiter. Comte Zichy was to represent Mars. The company was, however, short of Apollo; and among the troubadours the young Comte de Wurbna was the only one who could efficiently fill the part. It had been offered to him and accepted. But the Comte, who combined in every respect the requisite qualities for the brilliant impersonation allotted to him, had unfortunately something not contemplated in the programme. His upper lip was ornamented by a delightful pair of moustachios, and he valued them as one values things that do not detract from one’s appearance. It was very certain, though, that whether taken in connection with his luminous chariot or in the simple guise of a shepherd, no one could conceive the god of day with this hirsute ornament of a captain of hussars.