ied at midnight at the Church of
Sainte-Valere, after a very gay evening. I confess that my fears give me
a martyr-like and modest air to which I have no right, but which will be
admired--why, I cannot conceive. I am delighted to see that poor Felipe
is every whit as timorous as I am; society grates on him, he is like a
bat in a glass shop.

"Thank Heaven, the day won't last for ever!" he whispered to me in all
innocence.

In his bashfulness and timidity he would have liked to have no one
there.

The Sardinian ambassador, when he came to sign the contract, took me
aside in order to present me with a pearl necklace, linked together
by six splendid diamonds--a gift from my sister-in-law, the Duchess de
Soria. Along with the necklace was a sapphire bracelet, on the under
side of which were engraved the words, "_Though unknown, beloved_." Two
charming letters came with these presents, which, however, I could not
accept without consulting Felipe.

"For," I said, "I should not like to see you wearing ornaments that came
from any one but me."

He kissed my hand, quite moved, and replied:

"Wear them for the sake of the inscription, and also for the kind
feeling, which is sincere."

Saturday evening.

Here, then, my poor Renee, are the last words of your girl friend. After
the midnight Mass, we set off for an estate which Felipe, with kind
thought for me, has bought in Nivernais, on the way to Provence. Already
my name is Louise de Macumer, but I leave Paris in a few hours as Louise
de Chaulieu. However I am called, there will never be for you but one
Louise.

XXVII. THE SAME TO THE SAME October.

I have not written to you, dear, since our marriage, nearly eight months
ago. And not a line from you! Madame, you are inexcusable.

To begin with, we set off in a post-chaise for the Castle of
Chantepleurs, the property which Macumer has bought in Nivernais.
It stands on the banks of the Loire, sixty leagues from Paris. Our
servants, with the exception of my maid, were there before us, and we
arrived, after a very rapid journey, the next evening. I slept all the
way from Paris to beyond Montargis. My lord and master put his arm
round me and pillowed my head on his shoulder, upon an arrangement of
handkerchiefs. This was the one liberty he took; and the almost motherly
tenderness which got the better of his drowsiness, touched me strangely.
I fell asleep then under the fire of his eyes, and awoke to find them
sti