“The interest displayed by the people in their new sovereign was prompted by more than idle curiosity. The universal admiration she excited was genuine. Those noble features, enhanced by their expression of sweetness and modesty, irresistibly attracted the working classes, who felt that the Empress regarded them with kindness and good-will.” This assertion was not groundless, for although public opinion, as we have seen, had been against the Emperor’s choice, and although among the cheering throngs that greeted the sovereigns there was much secret dissatisfaction, the spell of Eugénie’s beauty and charm of manner was so potent that even her enemies were silenced by it. The lovely face with its regular delicate features suggests in contour the portraits of Mary Stuart. Her complexion was dazzling and her brown hair full of golden gleams. Under the heavy lashes and delicately pencilled eyebrows, her blue eyes, so dark as almost to seem black, were full of fire and softness, reflecting the tender heart and dauntless soul within. The Andalusians are famous for the beauty of their hands and feet, and Eugénie’s did not belie her origin. The lines of her figure and the curves of her neck were as perfect as those of an antique statue; in short, hers was a flawless exterior in which no discord marred the complete harmony of the picture. Thus elevated to a throne, Eugénie burned with desire to make herself beloved by the people, to excite the admiration of those about her, and silence all hints as to her birth and checkered past. Controlling her naturally impulsive and passionate nature when necessary, concealing her pride and ambition under a modest, almost humble air, she left nothing undone to add to her popularity and strengthen her position. Two qualities invaluable to a sovereign she naturally possessed—magnanimity and an open hand. Before the wedding the official journals had brought many proofs of her kindness of heart to the knowledge of the public—such as, that the Empress, having beheld an accident to a poor workman who fell from a scaffold, sprang from her coach to hasten to the aid of the unfortunate man and had him carried to a hospital; and on another occasion, seeing a poor abandoned child wandering in the street, the Emperor’s bride had taken it into her own carriage and promised to provide for its future. Still another and striking instance of this was her refusal to accept a diamond necklace valued at six hundred thousand francs which the Municipal Council of Paris had intended to present to her. She wrote a most gracious letter conveying her thanks to the Council for their loyal intention, but declaring she could not consent that Paris should make so great a sacrifice in her behalf, or that the Emperor’s wedding should lay any more burdens on the country; adding that her sole desire was to share with the Emperor the affections of the people, and expressing a wish that the six hundred thousand francs might