I don't know what went on in her rooms at night, but she had many
visitors; and when I came on tiptoe in the morning to see if she were
awake, I would find the drawing-room furniture disarranged, the
card-tables set out, and patches of snuff scattered about.

This drawing-room is furnished in the same style as the bedroom. The
chairs and tables are oddly shaped, with claw feet and hollow
mouldings. Rich garlands of flowers, beautifully designed and carved,
wind over the mirrors and hang down in festoons. On the consoles are
fine china vases. The ground colors are scarlet and white. My
grandmother was a high-spirited, striking brunette, as might be
inferred from her choice of colors. I have found in the drawing-room a
writing-table I remember well; the figures on it used to fascinate me;
it is plaited in graven silver, and was a present from one of the
Genoese Lomellini. Each side of the table represents the occupations
of a different season; there are hundreds of figures in each picture,
and all in relief.

I remained alone for two hours, while old memories rose before me, one
after another, on this spot, hallowed by the death of a woman most
remarkable even among the witty and beautiful Court ladies of Louis
XV.'s day.

You know how abruptly I was parted from her, at a day's notice, in
1816.

"Go and bid good-bye to your grandmother," said my mother.

The Princess received me as usual, without any display of feeling, and