I made a low reverence, terribly abashed, and I fear it would have
reduced my mother to despair, but it was an honour that I
appreciated; for now that I was a married woman, I was permitted to
read romances, and I had just begun on the first volume of the Grand
Curus. My husband read it to me as I worked at my embroidery, and
you may guess how we enjoyed it.

But I had no power of make compliments--nay, my English heart
recoiled in anger at their making such an outcry, whether of blame or
praise, at what seemed to me the simplest thing in the world. The
courtesy and consideration were perfect; as soon as these people saw
that I was really abashed and distressed, they turned their attention
from me. My husband was in the meantime called to be presented to
the Duke of Enghien, and I remained for a little while unmolested, so
that I could recover myself a little. Presently a soft voice close
to me said 'Madame,' and I looked up into the beautiful countenance
of Anne Genevieve de Bourbon, her blue eyes shining on me with the
sweetest expression. 'Madame,' she said, 'permit me to tell you how
glad I am for you.'

I thanked her most heartily. I felt this was the real tender
sympathy of a being of my own age and like myself, and there were
something so pathetic in her expression that I felt sorry for her.

'You are good! You will keep good,' she said.

'I hope so, Mademoiselle,' I said.

'Ah! yes, you will. They will not make you lose your soul against
your will!' and she clenched her delicate white hand.