developed succinctly the principles and advantages of our free
constitution, and said some eloquent things that formed a French
edition of 'Britons never shall be slaves,' she became quite
enthusiastic; her cheeks flushed, her eyes brightened; and with a sort
of Thervigne-de-Mericourt gesture, she cried: 'Vive la République!'
This was scarcely the natural product of what I had said; but so
lively a little creature, in her dainty lace-cap and flying pink
ribbons, neat silk _caraco_, plaid-patterned gown, with pagoda
sleeves, as she called them, and milk-white _manchettes_--her
_bottines_ from the Rue Vivienne, and her face from Paradise--could
reconcile many a harder heart than mine to greater incongruities. Our
arrangements being made, therefore, I sat down on a camp-stool, whilst
Penelope reclined on the grass; and I endeavoured to explain to her
the great advantages of a moderate constitutional government, with
checks, balances, and so forth. Although she yawned, I am sure it was
not from ennui, but in order to shew me her pretty pearly teeth.

M. Jerome and the princess came streaming back over the meadow--even
affected to scold me for having remained behind. They were evidently
on the best possible terms, and I took great satisfaction in
contemplating their happiness. Either my perspicacity was at fault,
however, or both had some secret cause of uneasiness that pressed upon
their minds as the day advanced. Had they been only betrayed into a
declaration and a plighting of their troth in a hurry? Did they
already repent? Did Madame de Mourairef regret the barbarous splendour
of her native land? Did M. Jerome begin to mourn over the delights of
bachelorship? These were the questions I put to myself without being
able to invent any satisfactory answer. The day passed, however,
pleasantly enough; and the calèche came in due time to take us back to
Blois.