The style of decoration in these rooms, together with their situation, indicates that they were the old show suite of the duchesses, while the dukes must have had theirs in the wing opposite.  The two suites are decorously separated by the two main blocks, as well as by the central one, which contained those vast, gloomy, resounding halls shown me by Philippe, all despoiled of their splendor, as in the days of my childhood.

Philippe grew quite confidential when he saw the surprise depicted on my countenance.  For you must know that in this home of diplomacy the very servants have a reserved and mysterious air.  He went on to tell me that it was expected a law would soon be passed restoring to the fugitives of the Revolution the value of their property, and that my father is waiting to do up his house till this restitution is made, the king’s architect having estimated the damage at three hundred thousand livres.

This piece of news flung me back despairing on my drawing-room sofa.  Could it be that my father, instead of spending this money in arranging a marriage for me, would have left me to die in the convent?  This was the first thought to greet me on the threshold of my home.

Ah!  Renee, what would I have given then to rest my head upon your shoulder, or to transport myself to the days when my grandmother made the life of these rooms?  You two in all the world have been alone in loving me—­you away at Maucombe, and she who survives only in my heart, the dear old lady, whose still youthful eyes used to open from sleep at my call.  How well we understood each other!

These memories suddenly changed my mood.  What at first had seemed profanation, now breathed of holy association.  It was sweet to inhale the faint odor of the powder she loved still lingering in the room; sweet to sleep beneath the shelter of those yellow damask curtains with their white pattern, which must have retained something of the spirit emanating from her eyes and breath.  I told Philippe to rub up the old furniture and make the rooms look as if they were lived in; I explained to him myself how I wanted everything arranged, and where to put each piece of furniture.  In this way I entered into possession, and showed how an air of youth might be given to the dear old things.

The bedroom is white in color, a little dulled with time, just as the gilding of the fanciful arabesques shows here and there a patch of red; but this effect harmonizes well with the faded colors of the Savonnerie tapestry, which was presented to my grandmother by Louis XV. along with his portrait.  The timepiece was a gift from the Marechal de Saxe, and the china ornaments on the mantelpiece came from the Marechal de Richelieu.  My grandmother’s portrait, painted at the age of twenty-five, hangs in an oval frame opposite that of the King.  The Prince, her husband, is conspicuous by his absence.  I like this frank negligence, untinged by hypocrisy—­a characteristic touch which sums up her charming personality.  Once when my grandmother was seriously ill, her confessor was urgent that the Prince, who was waiting in the drawing-room, should be admitted.