emembered to have seen the head of the
Princess Lamballe borne on a pole through the streets of Paris, was now
a prominent member of the Legislature, and, through his rich wife, the
incumbent of a great plantation.

But the teachings of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, that philosophic sign-post,
still influenced his mother, in her refusal to live under his splendid
roof, and partake of his bounty, however liberally offered.

"I have a home of my own," she said, "a few faithful servants, brains,
and energy still, besides a small account with General Curzon, in his
bank at Savannah, wherewith to meet emergencies; while these things
last, I will owe to no man or woman for bread or shelter. And, when
these depart, may the grave cover my bones, and the good God receive my
soul!"

Books alone she accepted as gifts from her son, and of these, in a
little three-cornered library, she had a goodly store in the two
languages which she read with equal facility, if not delight.

She showed us this nook before we left, and I saw, lying face downward,
as she had recently left it, the volume she was then perusing at
intervals--one of Madame Sand's novels, "Les Mauprats," I remember, a
singular and powerful romance, then recently issued, whose root I have
always thought might be found in Walter Scott's "Rob Roy," and more
particularly in the Osbaldistone family commemorated in that work.

On suggesting this to Madame Grambeau, she too saw the resemblance I
spoke of, and she agreed, with me, that the coincidence of genius
furnished many such parallels, where no charge of plagiarism could be
attached to either side.

A few bottles of "wild-berry wine," as Elizabeth Barrett called such
fluids, were added to the dinner toward its close, and Marion begged
permission to have her basket of cakes and fruits brought in for
dessert, which else had been wanting to our repast; to which request
Madame Grambeau graciously acceded.

"I make no confections," she said, "but I have lived on the juices of
good meats, well prepared, with such vegetables as the Lord lets grow in
this poor region, many years, and behold I am old and still able to do
his service!"

"And a little good wine, too, occasionally--eh, madame?" added Major
Favraud, impertinently.

"When attainable, Favraud. You drank good wine yourself, when you were
here, and I partook with you moderately. But I buy none such. I drown
not, Clarence-like, even in butts of malmsey, my hard-earned g