Indeed, we four young ones kept as much together as we could do in
the house and gardens, and played all our dear old games of
shuttlecock, and pig go to market, and proverbs, and all that you, my
children, call very English sports, because we knew only too well
that we should never play at them altogether again. The more I was
blamed for being childish, the more I was set upon them, till at last
my mother said that she was afraid to let me go, I was so childish
and unfeeling; and my father replied that she should have thought of
that before. He and I were both more English at heart than French,
and I am sure now that he perceived better than I did myself that my
clinging to my brothers and sister, and even my noisy merriment, were
not the effect of want of feeling.

As to my bridegroom, I have since known that he was dreadfully afraid
of us, more especially of me, and was thankful that the injury kept
him a prisoner. Nay, he might have come downstairs, if he had been
willing, on the last evening, but he shrank from another presentation
to me before the eyes of all the world, and chose instead to act the
invalid, with no companion save Eustace, with whom he had made
friends.

I will not tell you about the partings, and the promises and
assurances that we should meet again. My father had always promised
that my mother should see France once more, and he now declared that
they would all visit me. Alas! we little thought what would be the
accomplishment of that promise.

My father and Eustace rode with us from London to Dover, and all the
time I kept close to them. M. de Bellaise was well enough to ride