October, after a very spirited description of a
marriage-feast, and a dance to the sound of tambourines, she says:--

"We have been oppressed with the innumerable kindnesses of all this
amiable family. One after another, every body was full of regrets that
you were not of the party, declaring that a man of such wit and genius
as you was exactly made for society. If ever you return to this country,
you will be splendidly received....

"Amuse yourself as much as you can. Go and dine often with your friends.
I should be sorry if I thought you were alone. Don't be surprised at my
scrawl. I danced all last night, and had got to bed very late. It is now
eleven o'clock, and I am obliged to be dressed by one so, you see, I
have not much time to spare."

And her letter of the 22d November brings us to the end of the year '69,
and also of her residence at Marseilles. Even the _Memoire_ grows tired
of the gaieties of the Dame Lebrun, and passes over a long detail of
dinners, suppers, balls, and fetes, to tell us that, "fatiguee de bonne
chere," and "lassee de plaisirs," she wrote to her husband, who was
contenting himself with a Welsh rabbit and Julia at home--"One would
need four stomachs in this county. I envy your frugality, and long for
the little, quiet suppers we used to have at the fireside."

Now, this regret for the domestic broiled bones--though evidently caused
by a momentary surfeit--is dwelt upon by the enraptured Lebrun as a
triumphant disproof of the accusations of cruelty and violence, brought
against him by the Grimods and his charming wife. "She regrets their
quiet suppers! And yet we are told by the Dame Lebrun, and some of her
witnesses, that these quiet suppers never passed off without the most
horrible altercations, or nearly being stained with blood from murderous
blows!" From all we can make out, this accusation of the "petit homme"
attempting to pummel the lady with four stomachs, and capacity for
oyster-eating that must have thrown the late Mr Dando into despair, is
nothing more than an attempt to make the whole affair ridiculous, and
allow the conduct of the defendant to escape the obloquy it deserved,
under cover of the laughter excited by so ludicrous an image. If there
were any "coups meurtriers" in the case, we will venture the long odds
that the mark of them was left in the ogles, or other undefended
portions of the countenance of the Sieur Lebrun. She is constantly
complaining of delicate health