l loves--a dressing-case, toilet service, scent-box, fan, sunshade,
prayer-book, gold chain, cashmere shawl. He has also promised to give
me riding lessons. And I can dance! To-morrow, yes, to-morrow evening, I
come out!

My dress is white muslin, and on my head I wear a garland of white
roses in Greek style. I shall put on my Madonna face; I mean to play the
simpleton, and have all the women on my side. My mother is miles away
from any idea of what I write to you. She believes me quite destitute of
mind, and would be dumfounded if she read my letter. My brother honors
me with a profound contempt, and is uniformly and politely indifferent.

He is a handsome young fellow, but melancholy, and given to moods. I
have divined his secret, though neither the Duke nor Duchess has an
inkling of it. In spite of his youth and his title, he is jealous of his
father. He has no position in the State, no post at Court, he never has
to say, "I am going to the Chamber." I alone in the house have sixteen
hours for meditation. My father is absorbed in public business and his
own amusements; my mother, too, is never at leisure; no member of the
household practises self-examination, they are constantly in company,
and have hardly time to live.

I should immensely like to know what is the potent charm wielded by
society to keep people prisoner from nine every evening till two or
three in the morning, and force them to be so lavish alike of strength
and money. When I longed for it, I had no idea of the separations it
brought about, or its overmastering spell. But, then, I forget, it is
Paris which does it all.

It is possible, it seems, for members of one family to live side by side
and know absolutely nothing of each other. A half-fledged nun arrives,
and in a couple of weeks has grasped domestic details, of which the
master diplomatist at the head of the house is quite ignorant. Or
perhaps he _does_ see, and shuts his eyes deliberately, as part of the
father's _role_. There is a mystery here which I must plumb.

IV. THE SAME TO THE SAME December 15th.

Yesterday, at two o'clock, I went to drive in the Champs-Elysees and the
Bois de Boulogne. It was one of those autumn days which we used to find
so beautiful on the banks of the Loire. So I have seen Paris at last!
The Place Louis XV. is certainly very fine, but the beauty is that of
man's handiwork.

I was dressed to perfection, pensive, with set face (though inwardly
much temp