beamed with wit and amiability. You have guessed it was the Baron du
Clozel. The baron bowed to us profoundly. He certainly knew who we were,
but etiquette required him to wait until my father had presented us; but
immediately then he asked papa's permission to kiss us, and you may
suppose your grandfather did not refuse.

M. du Clozel had been sent by the baroness to oppose our sojourn at the
inn, and to bring us back with him.

"Run, put on your hoods," said papa; "we will wait for you here."

Mr. and Mrs. Morphy were greatly disappointed to see us go, and the former
declared that if these nobles kept on taking away their custom they would
have to shut up shop. Papa, to appease him, paid him double what he asked.
And the baron gave his arm to Suzanne, as the elder, while I followed, on
papa's. Madame du Clozel and her daughter met us at the street gate. The
baroness, though not young, was still pretty, and so elegant, so majestic!
A few days later I could add, so good, so lovable!

Celeste du Clozel was eighteen. Her hair was black as ebony, and her eyes
a beautiful blue. The young men of the village called her _Celeste la bien
nommée_ [Celeste the well named]; and for all her beauty, fortune, and
high position she was good and simple and always ready to oblige. She was
engaged, we learned afterward, to the Chevalier de Blanc, the same who in
1803 was made post-commandant of Attakapas.[17] Olivier and Charles du
Clozel turned everything to our entertainment, and it was soon decided
that we should all go that same evening to the theater.

Hardly was the sun down when we shut ourselves into our rooms to begin the
work of dressing. Celeste put herself at our service, assuring us that she