h cow in comparison. I am the less sorry that a little
Abencerrage is not on his way, because the Duchess will no doubt stay in
Paris over her confinement, and she won't be a beauty any longer. If
the baby is a boy, it will be called Felipe, in honor of the exile.
An unkind chance has decreed that I shall, a second time, serve as
godmother.

Good-bye, dear, I shall go to Chantepleurs early this year, for our
Italian tour was shockingly expensive. I shall leave about the end
of March, and retire to economize in Nivenais. Besides, I am tired of
Paris. Felipe sighs, as I do, after the beautiful quiet of the park, our
cool meadows, and our Loire, with its sparkling sands, peerless among
rivers. Chantepleurs will seem delightful to me after the pomps and
vanities of Italy; for, after all, splendor becomes wearisome, and a
lover's glance has more beauty than a _capo d'opera_ or a _bel quadro_!

We shall expect you there. Don't be afraid that I shall be jealous
again. You are free to take what soundings you please in Macumer's
heart, and fish up all the interjections and doubts you can. I am
supremely indifferent. Since that day at Rome Felipe's love for me has
grown. He told me yesterday (he is looking over my shoulder now) that
his sister-in-law, the Princess Heredia, his destined bride of old,
the dream of his youth, had no brains. Oh! my dear, I am worse than a
ballet-dancer! If you knew what joy that slighting remark gave me! I
have pointed out to Felipe that she does not speak French correctly. She
says _esemple_ for _exemple_, _sain_ for _cinq_, _cheu_ for _je_. She is
beautiful of course, but quite without charm or the slightest scintilla
of wit. When a compliment is paid her, she looks at you as though she
didn't know what to do with such a strange thing. Felipe, being what he
is, could not have lived two months with Marie after his marriage.
Don Fernand, the Duc de Soria, suits her very well. He has generous
instincts, but it's easy to see he has been a spoilt child. I am tempted
to be naughty and make you laugh; but I won't draw the long bow. Ever so
much love, darling.

XLII. RENEE TO LOUISE

My little girl is two months old. She is called Jeanne-Athenais, and has
for godmother and godfather my mother, and an old grand-uncle of Louis'.

As soon as I possibly can, I shall start for my visit to Chantepleurs,
since you are not afraid of a nursing mother. Your godson can say your
name now; he calls it _Matou