“Think of it, my being in this condition!—­I who fluttered my wings so much more than you, I whose imagination was so vagabond!  My sins have been greater than yours, and I am the more severely punished.  I have bidden farewell to my dreams:  I am Madame la Presidente in all my glory, and I resign myself to giving my arm for forty years to my big awkward Roulandiere, to living meanly in every way, and to having forever before me two heavy brows and two wall-eyes pierced in a yellow face, which is destined never to know what it is to smile.

“But you, Caroline dear, you who, between ourselves, were admitted among the big girls while I still gamboled among the little ones, you whose only sin was pride, you,—­at the age of twenty-seven, and with a dowry of two hundred thousand francs,—­capture and captivate a truly great man, one of the wittiest men in Paris, one of the two talented men that our village has produced.—­What luck!

“You now circulate in the most brilliant society of Paris.  Thanks to the sublime privileges of genius.  You may appear in all the salons of the Faubourg St. Germain, and be cordially received.  You have the exquisite enjoyment of the company of the two or three celebrated women of our age, where so many good things are said, where the happy speeches which arrive out here like Congreve rockets, are first fired off.  You go to the Baron Schinner’s of whom Adolphe so often spoke to us, whom all the great artists and foreigners of celebrity visit.  In short, before long, you will be one of the queens of Paris, if you wish.  You can receive, too, and have at your house the lions of literature, fashion and finance, whether male or female, for Adolphe spoke in such terms about his illustrious friendships and his intimacy with the favorites of the hour, that I imagine you giving and receiving honors.

“With your ten thousand francs a year, and the legacy from your Aunt Carabas, added to the twenty thousand francs that your husband earns, you must keep a carriage; and since you go to all the theatres without paying, since journalists are the heroes of all the inaugurations so ruinous for those who keep up with the movement of Paris, and since they are constantly invited to dinner, you live as if you had an income of sixty thousand francs a year!  Happy Caroline!  I don’t wonder you forget me!

“I can understand how it is that you have not a moment to yourself.  Your bliss is the cause of your silence, so I pardon you.  Still, if, fatigued with so many pleasures, you one day, upon the summit of your grandeur, think of your poor Claire, write to me, tell me what a marriage with a great man is, describe those great Parisian ladies, especially those who write.  Oh!  I should so much like to know what they are made of!  Finally don’t forget anything, unless you forget that you are loved, as ever, by your poor

“CLAIRE JUGAULT.”

From Madame Adolphe de Chodoreille to Madame la Presidente de la Roulandiere, at Viviers.