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    Software name: appdown
    Software type: Microsoft Framwork

    size: 41MB

    Lanuage:Englist

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      ?ΝΑΓΚΗ.The young Comte de Beaujolais, in the innocence [427] of his soul, has always remained a Bourbon, and this amiable boy feels a tender sympathy for my misfortunes. The other day he sent me in secret a person named Alexandre, a valet de chambre of good education. This worthy man, whose open expression impressed me in his favour, knelt down when he came near me, wiped away some tears and gave me a letter from the young prince, in which I found the most touching words and the purest sentiments. The good Alexandre begged me to keep this a profound secret, and told me that the Comte de Beaujolais often talked of escaping from his father and dying in arms for the defence of his King.


      M. de Montagu returns to ParisM. de BeauneRichmondDeath of NomiAix-la-ChapelleEscape of the Duc dAyen and Vicomte de NoaillesLa Fayette arrested in AustriaThe HagueCrossing the MeuseMargateRichmondHardships of povertyBrusselsLetter from Mme. de TessJoins her in SwitzerlandMurder of M. and Mme. de MouchyGoes to meet the Duc dAyenHe tells her of the murder of her grandmother, Mme. de Noailles, her mother, the Duchesse dAyen, and her eldest sister, the Vicomtesse de NoaillesMme. de la Fayette still in prison.What was Lostwithiel saying all this time in that gentle baritone, which was heard only by one listener? He was asking forgiveness for his indiscretion of the afternoon, and[Pg 70] in that prayer for pardon was repeating his offence. Isola was less inclined to be angry, perhaps, now. The magic of the dance was still upon her senses, the dance which had brought them nearer than all the days they had met; than all their long confidential conversations on the heights above the harbour, or on the river path, or dawdling on the bridge. She had felt the beating of his heart against her own, breath mingling with breath, the thrilling touch of his encircling arm; and it was as if he had woven a spell around her which made her his. She had never danced with her husband, who had no love of that heathenish art. In all their brisk, frank courtship there had been no intoxicating hours. She hardly knew what dancing meant till she waltzed with Lostwithiel, who had something of the fiery ardour of a Pagan worshipping his gods in wild gyrations upon moonlit mountain or in secret cave. She let him talk to her to-nightlet him pour out the full confession of his unhappy love. He spoke not as one who had hope; not with that implied belief in her frailty which would have startled her into prompt resistance. His accents were the accents of despair, his love was a dark fatality.


      She was evidently relieved in her mind by the knowledge that she was to be driven home presently.

      I hope not, said the Queen, we shall see. And she rang the bell. Campan, the King has an order to give you.

      In the ill-furnished, dilapidated h?tel salon of Mme. dEscars Pauline came in the evenings, after a day spent in the poor lodging upon the scanty food she could get, passing her time in reading, in devotion, and in doing what she could to help others.Filled with alarm and sorrow, she hurried to the Princess Dolgorouki, where Count Cobentzel brought them constant news from the palace, where desperate but fruitless efforts were being made to revive the Empress.


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      "Besides," she added confusedly, "I want to have a little private talk with Captain Hulbert, while Allegra is busy with her everlasting memoranda in that dirty little sketchbook which is stuffed with the pictures of the future. May I?"

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      The harmony and affection that had characterised the daughters of the Duchess dAyen were equally conspicuous among her grandchildren, and the numerous relationssons, daughters, nephews, nieces, and cousinsformed one united family. If there existed differences of opinion, they did not interfere with the affection between those who held them."Tell me about your dream," she said, after a pause, with her forehead still resting on his hands, and her face hidden. "Was it something very awful?"

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      It consisted, at the death of Louis XV., of the King, aged nineteen; the Queen, eighteen; the Comte de Provence, eighteen; the Comtesse de Provence, twenty; the Comte dArtois, seventeen; and the Comtesse dArtois, eighteen. Of Mesdames Adla?de, Victoire, Sophie, and Louise, the last of whom was a Carmelite nun, and whose ages were from thirty-eight to forty-three.


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