than by study; her figure was opulent, her speech agreeable,
her step noble, her demeanour easy, her temper sociable, her
wit devoid of malice, and founded upon great goodness of
heart."]

It is easy to understand that a woman thus endowed could not, in a court
where gallantry was more pursued than in any other spot in the world,
escape the calumnies of rivals; such calumnies, however, never produced
any result, so correctly, even in the absence of her husband, did the
marquise contrive to conduct herself; her cold and serious conversation,
rather concise than lively, rather solid than brilliant, contrasted,
indeed, with the light turn, the capricious and fanciful expressions
employed by the wits of that time; the consequence was that those
who had failed to succeed with her, tried to spread a report that the
marquise was merely a beautiful idol, virtuous with the virtue of a
statue. But though such things might be said and repeated in the absence
of the marquise, from the moment that she appeared in a drawing-room,
from the moment that her beautiful eyes and sweet smile added their
indefinable expression to those brief, hurried, and sensible words that
fell from her lips, the most prejudiced came back to her and were forced
to own that God had never before created anything that so nearly touched
perfection.

She was thus in the enjoyment of a triumph that backbiters failed to
shake, and that scandal vainly sought to tarnish, when news came of the
wreck of the French galleys in Sicilian waters, and of the death of
the Marquis de Castellane, who was in command. The marquise on this
occasion, as usual, displayed the greatest piety and propriety: although
she had no very violent passion for her husband, with whom she had spent
scarcely one of the seven years during which their marriage had lasted,
on receipt of the news she went at once into retreat, going to live
with Madame d'Ampus, her mother-in-law, and ceasing not only to receive
visitors but also to go out.

Six months after the death of her husband, the marquise received letters
from her grandfather, M. Joannis de Nocheres, begging her to come and
finish her time of mourning at Avignon. Having been fatherless almost
from childhood, Mademoiselle de Chateaublanc had been brought up by this
good old man, whom she loved dearly; she hastened accordingly to accede
to his invitation, and prepared everything for her departure.

This was at the moment whe