My husband had absolutely only seen her twice, and then through the grating, and the marriage had taken place while he was in Savoy last autumn.  He knew his brother-in-law a little better, having been his neighbour at Nid de Merle; but he shrugged his shoulders as he spoke of ‘le chevalier,’ and said he was very young, adored by his grandparents, and rather headstrong.

As to growing up together in the unity that had always existed between an absolute surprise to him to find that my dear brother was grieved at parting with me.  He said he had lain and heard our shouts in the passages with wonder as we played those old games of ours.

‘As though you were in a den of roaring wild beasts,’ I said; for I ventured on anything with him by that time, voices, I teased him about his feelings at having to carry off one of these same savage beasts with him; and then he told me how surprised he had been when, on the last evening he spent in his chamber in our house, Eustace had come and implored him to be good to me, telling him—­ah, I can see my dear brother’s boyish way!—­all my best qualities, ranging from my always speaking truth to my being able to teach the little dog to play tricks, and warning him of what vexed or pained me, even exacting a promise that he would take care of me when I was away from them all.  I believe that promise was foremost in my husband’s mind when he waited on me at sea.  Nay, he said when remembered the tears in my brother’s eyes, and saw how mine arose at the thought, his heart smote him when he remembered that his sister’s marriage had scarcely cost him a thought or care, and that she was an utter stranger to him; and then we agreed that if ever we had children, we would bring them up to know and love one another, and have precious recollections in common.  Ah! l’homme propose, mais Dieu dispose.

It was only on that day that it broke upon me that we were to be separated immediately after our arrival in Paris.  M. de Bellaise was to go to his regiment, which was at garrison at Nancy, and I was to be left under the charge of old Madame la Marquise de Nidemerle at Paris.  I heard of it first from the Marquise himself in the coach, as he thanked one of the ladies who invited me—­with him—­to her salon in Paris, where there was to be a great entertainment in the summer.  When I replied that M. de Bellaise would have rejoined his regiment, they began explaining that I should go into society under Madame de Nidemerle, who would exert herself for my sake.

I said no more.  I knew it was of no use there; but when next I could speak with my husband—­it was under an arbour of vines in the garden of the inn where we dine—­I asked him whether it was true.  He opened large eyes, and said he knew I could not wish to withdraw him from his duty to his king and country, even if he could do so with honour.

‘Ah! no,’ I said; ‘I never thought of that.’  But surely the place of a wife was with her husband, and I had expected to go with him to his garrison at Nancy, and there wait when he took the field.  He threw himself at my feet, and pressed my hands with transport at what he called this unheard-of proof of affection; and then I vexed him by laughing, for I could not help thinking what my brothers would have said, could they have seen us thus.