we expected from you. You will not find any absurd severity in me; and
if you have ever thought me heartless, you will soon find out your
mistake. Still, though I wish you to feel perfectly free, I think
that, to begin with, you would do well to follow the counsels of a
mother, who wishes to be a sister to you."

I was quite charmed by the Duchess, who talked in a gentle voice,
straightening my convent tippet as she spoke. At the age of
thirty-eight she is still exquisitely beautiful. She has dark-blue eyes,
with silken lashes, a smooth forehead, and a complexion so pink and
white that you might think she paints. Her bust and shoulders are
marvelous, and her waist is as slender as yours. Her hand is milk-white
and extraordinarily beautiful; the nails catch the light in their
perfect polish, the thumb is like ivory, the little finger stands just
a little apart from the rest, and the foot matches the hand; it is the
Spanish foot of Mlle. de Vandenesse. If she is like this at forty, at
sixty she will still be a beautiful woman.

I replied, sweetheart, like a good little girl. I was as nice to her
as she to me, nay, nicer. Her beauty completely vanquished me; it
seemed only natural that such a woman should be absorbed in her regal
part. I told her this as simply as though I had been talking to you. I
daresay it was a surprise to her to hear words of affection from her
daughter's mouth, and the unfeigned homage of my admiration evidently
touched her deeply. Her manner changed and became even more engaging;
she dropped all formality as she said:

"I am much pleased with you, and I hope we shall remain good friends."

The words struck me as charmingly naive, but I did not let this