Philippe has spent the morning rushing about among the various shops and workpeople who are to undertake the task of my metamorphosis.  A famous dressmaker, by name Victorine, has come, as well as a woman for underclothing, and a shoemaker.  I am as impatient as a child to know what I shall be like when I emerge from the sack which constituted the conventual uniform; but all these tradespeople take a long time; the corset-maker requires a whole week if my figure is not to be spoilt.  You see, I have a figure, dear; this becomes serious.  Janssen, the Operatic shoemaker, solemnly assures me that I have my mother’s foot.  The whole morning has gone in these weighty occupations.  Even a glovemaker has come to take the measure of my hand.  The underclothing woman has got my orders.

At the meal which I call dinner, and the others lunch, my mother told me that we were going together to the milliner’s to see some hats, so that my taste should be formed, and I might be in a position to order my own.

This burst of independence dazzles me.  I am like a blind man who has just recovered his sight.  Now I begin to understand the vast interval which separates a Carmelite sister from a girl in society.  Of ourselves we could never have conceived it.

During this lunch my father seemed absent-minded, and we left him to his thoughts; he is deep in the King’s confidence.  I was entirely forgotten; but, from what I have seen, I have no doubt he will remember me when he has need of me.  He is a very attractive man in spite of his fifty years.  His figure is youthful; he is well made, fair, and extremely graceful in his movements.  He has a diplomatic face, at once dumb and expressive; his nose is long and slender, and he has brown eyes.

What a handsome pair!  Strange thoughts assail me as it becomes plain to me that these two, so perfectly matched in birth, wealth, and mental superiority, live entirely apart, and have nothing in common but their name.  The show of unity is only for the world.

The cream of the Court and diplomatic circles were here last night.  Very soon I am going to a ball given by the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, and I shall be presented to the society I am so eager to know.  A dancing-master is coming every morning to give me lessons, for I must be able to dance in a month, or I can’t go to the ball.

Before dinner, my mother came to talk about the governess with me.  I have decided to keep Miss Griffith, who was recommended by the English ambassador.  Miss Griffith is the daughter of a clergyman; her mother was of good family, and she is perfectly well bred.  She is thirty-six, and will teach me English.  The good soul is quite handsome enough to have ambitions; she is Scotch—­poor and proud—­and will act as my chaperon.  She is to sleep in Rose’s room.  Rose will be under her orders.  I saw at a glance that my governess would be governed by me.  In the six days we have been together, she has made very sure that I am the only person likely to take an interest in her; while, for my part, I have ascertained that, for all her statuesque features, she will prove accommodating.  She seems to me a kindly soul, but cautious.  I have not been able to extract a word of what passed between her and my mother.