That was the outburst. Of course Countess Marie Larisch protested; but the general trend of her book shows that the protest was due to anger rather than to the indignation of outraged innocence. This being the Life, not of the Empress, but of the Emperor, there is no need to go into the matter at great length; but some of the scenes pictured and some of the facts set forth have a symbolic value, which forbids their omission. Even before Countess Marie was in attendance—as early as Elizabeth’s long sojourn in Madeira—people seem to have found occasion to talk:— “Count Hunyadi” (writes Countess Marie) “was one of her suite, and I do not know what actually happened, but I _do_ know that the Chamberlain spied most effectually on my aunt. The Count was recalled to Vienna, and Elizabeth’s stay in Madeira came to an abrupt conclusion.” Evidently it was for the purpose of throwing dust in the argus eyes of Chamberlains and the like that Countess Marie was enlisted in the Empress’s service. She portrays herself, more than once—though always with apparent care not to say either too little or too much—in the act of throwing the dust. The great occasion was the day on which Captain “Bay” Middleton—sometimes called William Tell because he was something less than a model of reticence—who had been on a visit to the Austrian Court, had to say good-bye. Elizabeth (Countess Marie tells us) “made no attempt to disguise her liking” for the celebrated English sportsman, whose good looks, athletic prowess, and popularity with ladies have furnished the theme of many chapters of many volumes of social gossip. At all events the Empress’s eyes were swollen with weeping on the day of Captain Middleton’s departure; and the Emperor came to pay a most inopportune visit to her apartments at the time when the adieux were being said. Elizabeth appealed to Countess Marie to find an excuse to keep him out; and Countess Marie’s powers of invention did not fail her:— “I ran forward. ‘Who is there?’ I asked. ‘The Emperor,’ replied a voice; ‘can I come in?’ ‘Oh, Majestat,’ I stammered, ‘how unfortunate that Aunt Cissi is not able to see you! She is trying on some riding habits.’ ‘Oh, then I’ll return later,’ answered Francis Joseph, and I heard the sound of his retreating footsteps in the corridor.” Whereupon Countess Marie was congratulated by the Empress on “unusual tact”; and we encounter, a few pages further on, the following significant paragraph:— “The Emperor’s rooms were far away from Aunt Cissi’s, and her doors were always guarded by soldiers. Francis Joseph, who was very much in love with his wife, was often kept at a distance when Elizabeth’s love of solitude obsessed her, and then she was never seen by anyone except the members of her immediate _entourage_.”