“Of course, it was all right; and neither my lord nor I could sleep for wondering how Madame de Crequy would bear her awakening.  I had engaged the doctor, to whose face and voice she was accustomed, to remain with her all night:  the nurse was experienced, and Clement was within call.  But it was with the greatest relief that I heard from my own woman, when she brought me my chocolate, that Madame de Crequy (Monsieur had said) had awakened more tranquil than she had been for many days.  To be sure, the whole aspect of the bed-chamber must have been more familiar to her than the miserable place where I had found her, and she must have intuitively felt herself among friends.

“My lord was scandalized at Clement’s dress, which, after the first moment of seeing him I had forgotten, in thinking of other things, and for which I had not prepared Lord Ludlow.  He sent for his own tailor, and bade him bring patterns of stuffs, and engage his men to work night and day till Clement could appear as became his rank.  In short, in a few days so much of the traces of their flight were removed, that we had almost forgotten the terrible causes of it, and rather felt as if they had come on a visit to us than that they had been compelled to fly their country.  Their diamonds, too, were sold well by my lord’s agents, though the London shops were stocked with jewellery, and such portable valuables, some of rare and curious fashion, which were sold for half their real value by emigrants who could not afford to wait.  Madame de Crequy was recovering her health, although her strength was sadly gone, and she would never be equal to such another flight, as the perilous one which she had gone through, and to which she could not bear the slightest reference.  For some time things continued in this state—­the De Crequys still our honoured visitors,—­many houses besides our own, even among our own friends, open to receive the poor flying nobility of France, driven from their country by the brutal republicans, and every freshly-arrived emigrant bringing new tales of horror, as if these revolutionists were drunk with blood, and mad to devise new atrocities.  One day Clement—­I should tell you he had been presented to our good King George and the sweet Queen, and they had accosted him most graciously, and his beauty and elegance, and some of the circumstances attendant on his flight, made him be received in the world quite like a hero of romance; he might have been on intimate terms in many a distinguished house, had he cared to visit much; but he accompanied my lord and me with an air of indifference and languor, which I sometimes fancied made him be all the more sought after:  Monkshaven (that was the title my eldest son bore) tried in vain to interest him in all young men’s sports.  But no! it was the same through all.  His mother took far more interest in the on-dits of the London world, into which she was far too great an invalid to venture, than he did in the absolute events themselves, in which