my brother De Solivet said, the Cardinal understood his game too well
to send one to bring back a youth who had rushed to place himself
beneath the banners of his country in the hands of a prince of the
blood.

Indeed, we soon learned that there was no one to pursue him. His
grandfather had a stroke of apoplexy in his rage on hearing of the
arrest, and did not survive it a week, so that he had become Count of
Aubepine. The same courier brought to my husband a letter from his
sister, which I thought very stiff and formal, all except the
conclusion: 'Oh, my brother, I implore you on my knees to watch over
him and bring him back to me!'

Yet, as far as we knew and believed, the young man had never written
at all to his poor little wife. My husband had insisted on his
producing a letter to his grandfather; but as to his wife, he
shrugged his shoulders, said that she could see that he was safe, and
that was enough for her.

He was, in fact, like one intoxicated with the delights of liberty
and companionship. He enjoyed a certain eclat from the manner of his
coming, and was soon a universal favourite among the officers.
Unfortunately, the influence and example there were not such as to
lead him to think more of his wife. The Duke of Enghien had been
married against his will to a poor little childish creature, niece to
Cardinal de Richelieu, and he made it the fashion to parade, not only
neglect, but contempt, of one's wife. He was the especial hero of
our young Count's adoration, and therefore it was the less wonder
that, when in the course of the winter, the chaplain wrote that the
young Madame le Comtesse was in the most imminent danger, after