daughter's delicate health, and also the important interests she had to
look after in the South of France.

Her frivolous friends looked upon that as a great act of heroism, as
something almost super-human, and so courageous, that they tried to
distract her by their incessant letters, religiously kept her up in all
the scandal, and love adventures, in the falls, as well as in the
apotheosis of the capital.

The difficult struggle which Madame de Maurillac had to keep up in order
to maintain her rank, was really as fine as any of those campaigns in
the twilight of glory, as those slow retreats where men only give way
inch by inch and fight until the last cartridge is expended, until at
last fresh troops arrive, reinforcement which bar the way to the enemy,
and save the threatened flag.

Broken in by the same discipline, and haunted by the same dream, mother
and daughter lived on almost nothing in the dull, dilapidated house
which the peasants called the _château_, and economized like poor people
who only have a few hundred francs a year to live on. But Fabienne de
Maurillac developed well in spite of everything, and grew up into a
woman like some rare flower which is preserved from all contact with the
outer air and is reared in a hot-house.

In order that she might not lose her Parisian accent by speaking too
much with the servants, who had remained peasants under their livery,
Madame de Maurillac, who had not been able to bring a lady's maid with
her, on account of the extra cost which her traveling expenses and wages
would have entailed, and who, moreover, was afraid that some
indiscretion might betray her maneuvers and cover her with ridicule,