with my brother after I had been restored to my mother.  The cloud cleared up from Annora’s face as she listened, making her look as lovely and as animated as when she was in English company.  The conversation was not by any means equally pleasing to my mother, who, on the first opportunity, broke in with ‘My son,’ and sent my brother off in search of some distinguished person to whom she wished to speak, and she most expressingly frowned off his former companion, who would have continued the conversation with my sister and me, where upon Nan’s face, which was always far too like a window, became once more gloomy.

When we went home, it appeared that my mother was will satisfied that I should be invited to the Hotel de Rambouillet.  It was a distinguished thing to have the entree there, though for her part she thought it very wearisome to have to listen to declamations about she knew not what; and there was no proper distinction of ranks kept up, any more than at the Hotel de Choisy, where one expected it.  And, after all, neither Monsieur nor Madame de Rambouillet were of the old noblesse.  The Argennes, like the Rambouillets, only dated from the time of the League, when they had in private confirmed the sentence of death on the Duke of Guise, which had been carried out by his assassination.  Strange to look at the beautiful and gentle Julie, and know her to be sprung from such a stem!

Then my mother censured Eustace for bad taste in talking over his case with his lawyer in public.  He laughed, and assured her that he had never even thought of his suit, but had been discussing one of the pictures on the walls, a fine Veronese—­appealing to me if it were not so; but she was not satisfied; she said he should not have encouraged the presumption of that little advocate by presenting him to his sisters.

Eustace never attempted argument with her, but went his own way; and when Annora broke out with something about Mr. Hyde and other lawyers, such as Harry Merrycourt, being company for any one in London, she was instantly silenced or presuming to argue with her elders.

I had a happy morning with Mesdames de Rambouillet and De Montausier, who showed the perfect union of mother and daughter.

In the little cabinet where Madame de Rambouillet read and studied so much in order to be able to fill her eminent position, she drew out from me all my story and all my perplexities, giving me advice as a wise woman of my own church alone could do, and showing me how much I might still do in my life at Paris.  She advised me, as I had been put under Father Vincent’s guidance, to seek him at the Church of St. Sulpice, where, on certain days of the week, he was accessible to ladies wishing to undertake pious works.  For the rest, she said that a little resolution on my part would enable me to reserve the early part of the day for study and the education of my son; and she fully approved of my giving the evenings to society, and gave me at once the entree to her circle.  She insisted that I should remain on that day and dine with her, and Madame de Montausier indited two charming billets, which were sent to invite our family to join us there in the evening.