The turbulent Princess who so ardently aspired to the throne of Ferdinand III. was as free in spirit as she was independent in action, and being hampered by no religion but the religion of culture, she followed her fancies and adopted a line of conduct in singular opposition to her natural behaviour and inclinations. Lured by ambitious policy to affect the attitude of religious devotion, she fell into her own net and was so deceived by her feelings that she supposed that she wished to take the veil. The fact that at heart her wishes tended in a diametrically opposite direction furnished the most striking proof of the power of hypnotic auto-suggestion. I am speaking now of a time previous to Saujon's mission to Germany. In her own words: The desire to be an empress followed me wherever I journeyed, and the effects of my wishes seemed to be so close at hand that I was led to believe that it would be well for me to form habits best suited to the habits and to the humour of the Emperor. I had heard it said that he was very devout, and by following his example I became so worshipful that after I had feigned the appearance of devotion a while I longed to be a nun. I never breathed a word of it to any one; but during the whole of eight days I was inspired by a desire to become a Carmelite. I was so engrossed by this feeling that I could neither eat nor sleep. And I was so beset by that anxiety added to my natural anxiety, that they feared lest I should fall ill. Every time that the Queen went into the convents--which happened often--I remained in the church alone; and thinking of all the persons who loved me and who would regret my retreat from the world, I wept. So that which appeared to be a struggle with my religious desire to break away from my worldly self was in reality a struggle progressing in my heart between my wish to enter the convent and my horror of leaving all whom I loved, and breaking away from all my tenderness for them. I can say only this: during these eight days the Empire was nothing to me. But I must avow that I felt a certain amount of vanity because I was to leave the world under such important circumstances. Mademoiselle had hung out the sign-board of religion--if I may use such a term--and she multiplied all the symptoms of religious conversion. To quote her own words: I did not appear at Court. I did not wear my patches, I did not powder my hair,--in fact, I neglected my hair until it was so long and so dusty that it completely disguised me. I used to wear three kerchiefs around my neck,--one over the other,--and they muffled me so that in warm weather I nearly smothered. As I wished to look like a woman forty years old, I never wore any coloured riband. As for pleasure, I took pleasure in nothing but in reading and re-reading the life of Saint Theresa.