letter from my pocket with eager fingers. It told the whole story
of her heart.

CHATEAU ST. LOUIS, 27th November, 1757.

Though I write you these few words, dear Robert, I do not know
that they will reach you, for as yet it is not certain they will
let Voban visit you. A year, dear friend, and not a word from you!
I should have broken my heart if I had not heard of you one way and
another. They say you are much worn in body, though you have always
a cheerful air. There are stories of a visit Monsieur Doltaire paid
you, and how you jested. He hates you, and yet he admires you too.

And now listen, Robert, and I beg you not to be angry--oh, do not
be angry, for I am all yours; but I want to tell you that I have
not repulsed Monsieur Doltaire when he has spoken flatteries to me.
I have not believed them, and I have kept my spirits strong against
the evil in him. I want to get you free of prison, and to that end
I have to work through him with the Intendant, that he will not set
the Governor more against you. With the Intendant himself I will
not deal at all. So I use the lesser villain, and in truth the more
powerful, for he stands higher at Versailles than any here. With
the Governor I have influence, for he is, as you know, a kinsman of
my mother's, and of late he has shown a fondness for me. Yet you
can see that I must act most warily, that I must not seem to care
for you, for that would be your complete undoing. I rather seem
to scoff. (Oh, how it hurts me! how my cheeks tingle when I think
of it alone! and how I clench my hands, hating them all for
oppressing you!)