After the imperial decree had ennobled many to whom the mysteries of the court had hitherto been sealed books, very amusing incidents occurred. The Faubourg St. Germain resented the indignity which had been offered to their patrician prejudices; and the newly created nobles were often treated with superb disdain by those entitled to such rank from birth. “The Duchesse de Chevreuse desired her waiting-woman to inform her laundress that she should no longer intrust her with her linen, until she became a countess; and the Comte de Brissac addressed a note to his boot-maker as follows:— “‘My dear baron! do not fail to bring me my boots to-morrow.’ And when on the next day the astonished tradesman assured him that he had been the recipient of no such title, De Brissac exclaimed with elegant impertinence: ‘Can this be possible? You really astonish me! Console yourself, however, Maizenat; for rest assured that you will be included in the next baking.’” But it was hardly to be wondered at, perhaps, that the old nobles sneered at some of these new-titled persons, whose own presumptuous pride made them fit subjects for mirth. This throng of new courtiers, most of whom had sworn eternal hatred to kings and royalty, now danced attendance at the _levées_ of the emperor, and vied with each other to obtain a look or word from his imperial highness, that they might repay him for it with the pompous titles of “Sire,” and “Your Majesty,” which they did with an air of self-gratulation, which appeared as if the individual considered himself to be ennobled by the privilege of merely uttering the magic words. Among the strange actions related of some of these “_newly baked dignitaries_,” one or two are quite amusing. The wife of a marshal purchased several dresses of old brocade, such as were worn at the Court of Louis XV., and kept them spread out upon chairs in the hall leading to her bedroom, as if placed there to air. When her curious visitors asked her what she was going to do with them, she replied with apparent carelessness, under which lurked much pompous pride: “Do with them? Oh! nothing at all; but they belonged to my grandmother, and I wish to keep them as long as I can for her sake.” Books on heraldry brought fabulous prices; and the father behind his counter, and the mother at her wash-tub, were entertained by their pretty daughters, endeavoring to master the high-bred French titles of the _ancien régime_. One soap-dealer, whose daughter had married an officer in the army, and had embellished the panels of her carriage with a gloved hand grasping a sword,—the military crest of her husband,—innocently thanked his daughter for having tried to copy the golden arm which figured above his shop-door; though he regretted that she should have had it painted to look like iron, and generously stated that had he known of it, he would willingly have paid the difference of cost himself.