“But the saying is true,” adds Madame de Gontaut, “that there are no pleasant prisons.  The Castle of Holyrood, as well as the park, was spacious.  The governor visited there, and also several Scotch families, very agreeable socially.  Monsieur could not ’leave the limits’ except on Sunday, when the law allows no arrest.  He had a carriage that he loaned to us, reserving it only for Sunday, when he was out from morning to night.  To these excellent Scotch people a visit from him was an honor, a festival.  Our little society comedies amused Monsieur as much as us; I always had, unluckily, a part that I never knew; I could never in my life learn anything by heart; I listened, filled my mind with the subject, and went ahead, to the great amusement of the audience and the despair of my fellow-players.”  After a while the suits against the Prince came to an end, and he could quit Holyrood, his debtor’s prison.

Madame de Gontaut made a very good figure at Louis XVIII.’s little court at Hartwell.  By her wit and her tact, she won the friendship of all the royal family, and much sympathy in high English society.  She returned to France with Louis XVIIL, and no lady of the court was regarded with greater respect.  At the time of the marriage of the Duke of Berry, she became lady companion to the new Duchess, whom she went to meet at Marseilles.

The King, Monsieur, the Duke and Duchess of Berry, all showed equal confidence in Madame de Gontaut, and her nomination as Governess of the Children of France was received with general approval and sympathy.  A woman of mind and heart, she performed her task with as much zeal as intelligence, and though strict with her two pupils, she made herself beloved by them.  She especially applied herself to guard them against the snares of flattery.  On this subject she relates a characteristic anecdote.  One day a family that had been recommended to her asked the favor of seeing, if only for a moment, the Duke of Bordeaux and his sister.  The two children, vexed at having to leave their play, were not communicative, and nevertheless received an avalanche of compliments.  The visitors were in ecstasy over their gentleness, their beauty.  They admired even their hair.  These exaggerations embarrassed the children, who were full of frankness and directness, and displeased Madame de Gontaut.  She quickly closed the interview.  As the visitors were going out, a half-open door allowed the little Prince and Princess to overhear their observations.  “It was not worth while to come so far to see so little,” said an old lady, in an irritated tone.  “Oh, as to that, no,” said a big boy, “they hardly had two words of response for all the compliments that papa and mamma strained themselves to give them.  You made me laugh, papa, when you said, ’What fine color, what pretty hair!’ She’s as pale as an egg and cropped like a boy.”—­” That’s true,” said the old lady,” she needs your medicines, doctor; and then they are very small for