One or two artists, a little less hairy and a little better off than the old patrons of the inn, came with the mighty. There were the two brothers Mozin, Charles and Théodore, the one a clever painter, the other a musician, and Vogel, beloved of the none-too-critical Paris ladies for his sugary ballads all about love and cottages and despair—songs as sweet and smooth as the almond-paste in a wedding-cake. They brought a sort of mild æsthetic leaven into the general hotch-potch; the dandies copied their scarlet flannel blouses and their _bérets_; the smart ladies accepted their sketches and the dedications of their songs, feeling that in so doing they were laying a claim to a reputation for culture. A vision of the _plage_ at Trouville was Madame de Contades, who came down from Paris one year to breathe a little health after some serious illness. She used to be carried on to the sands on a canvas litter by two sturdy fishermen in their blue jerseys and knitted caps, and when she was comfortably established with her book, her fan, her parasol, and her bottle of smelling-salts or some cunning essence, she would be surrounded by a bevy of children, pages and tiny maids of honour, all eager to render her homage and do her some small service—a lilliputian court quite as much in love with her as the dandy moths that singed their wings in her flame. How beauty appeals to children! That sweet, pale face, framed in soft brown curls like the Cenci of Guido Reni, is a fascination to me to-day as it was seventy years ago and more. She should have remained a tender invalid; but the rough Norman breezes brought back the roses to her cheeks and strength to her shapely limbs, and the next I heard of our beautiful queen was swimming a race against another lady in the Seine at Paris. To her lilliputian court this seemed an outrage of _lèse-poésie_. Indeed, it was deemed a little unusual at that rather stiff period. The Lubersacs, Barbantanes, Blacas, followed the lead of the Duchesse de Rauzan, as should beseem daughters and sons-in-law. Notable also was the Duchesse de Gramont Caderousse, with her two boys, daily playfellows of ours, the second of whom became the famous _viveur_, dandy, duellist, and eccentric of the Second Empire—I shall, perhaps, speak of him later. The elder brother died as a boy.