Sinopsis

The infinitely fascinating and melancholy image of the Empress Elizabeth
of Austria represents a special type among all the royal and imperial
majesties to whose persons I have been attached during their different
stays in ; and this both on of her life, which was one long
romance, and of her death, which was a tragedy.
Hers was a strong, sad soul; and she disappeared suddenly, as in a dream
of terror. She hovers round my memory crowned with the halo of
unhappiness.
The first time that I saw her was at Geneva; and I cannot recall this detail
without emotion, for it was at Geneva that she was to die under the
assassin's dagger. At the end of August, 1895, the Govern...