to cast himself at the feet of women.

He was in mourning for his barbarously murdered cousin the Duc de
la Rochefoucault. His first address was of the
highest style. I shall not attempt to recollect his words, but
they were most elegantly expressive of his satisfaction in a
meeting he had long, he said, desired.

With Sarah he then shook hands. She had been his
interpretess here on his arrival, and he seems to have
conceived a real kindness for her; an honour of which she is
extremely sensible, and with reason.

A little general talk ensued, and he made a point of curing Sarah
of being afraid of his dog. He made no secret of
thinking it affectation, and never rested till he had
conquered it completely. I saw here, in the midst of all that at
first so powerfully struck me of dignity,
importance, and high-breeding, a true French Polisson; for he
called the dog round her, made it jump on her shoulder, and
amused himself as,

Page 25

in England, only a schoolboy or a professed fox-hunter would have
dreamt of doing.

This, however, recovered me to a little ease, which his
compliment had rather overset. Mr. Young hung back, nearly quite
silent. Sarah was quiet when reconciled to the dog, or, rather,