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Rh may be palliated by the impartial historian's observing, It was then necessary that the Emperor should " — soft synonyme for assassination !

I ought not to leave Mrs. Wilmot and the Princess Dashkoff, how- ever this may be, with a tragical and unmerited impression on your mind. I am quite convinced the princess had nothing to do with this horrid affair, or that our countrywoman never would have gone or never would have staid with her.

I can also assure you that when you read these memoirs, you will be convinced, as I am, that the Princess Dashkoff was quite pure from all the Empress Catharine's libertine intrigues (I can use no softer phrase). This is proved by facts, not words, for no word does she say on the subject. But the fact is that during Orloff, the favorite Orloff 's reign and his numerous successors, the Princess Dashkoff was never at court, banished herself on her travels or at her far distant territories, she over-rated, idolised Catharine, but was her real friend, not flatterer.

It is scarcely worth telling you, but I will for your diversion mention that I asked Mrs. Wilmot whether the Princess Dashkoff evermore went about in the costume, which she described, of a man's great coat, with stars and strings over it, at the ball, and with the sentimental old souvenir silk handkerchief about her throat. Yes. But Mrs. Wilmot would not let me laugh at her friend, and I liked her all the better. She defended the oddity, by the kindness of the motive. It was not affectation of singularity, but privilege of originality that should be allowed to a being so feeling and so educated by circumstances, and so isolated — so let the ragged handkerchief and the old gloves museumised pass, and even the old overall of the man's coat on a woman and a princess — so be it.

But from the time of the Cardinal Chigi and his one stump of a twenty-years-old pen on which he piqued himself, I quite agree with Cardinal Mazarin that these petty singularities are proofs of a little mind, instead of originality of genius.

And now, my dear Mrs. Ticknor, " Bisogna levar l'incommodita" — to use the parting phrase of a vulgar Italian who feels that she has made an unconscionable visit ; or, as the Cockney would say as she got up to depart from a morning visitation, " Time for me to be going, I think." And if you do not think so, or have not thought so ten pages ago, you are more indulgent and fonder of me than I had any right or reason to expect, even after all I have heard from and seen of you.

I promise you that you shall not be so tried again for a twelvemonth