For Adrienne, the Marquis de la Fayette, a boy who when first the marriage was thought of by the respective families was not fifteen years old, whose father was dead, who had been brought up by his [186] aunt in the country, and who was very rich. He was plain, shy, awkward, and had red hair, but he and Adrienne fell violently in love with each other during the time of probation. Louise and her cousin had, of course, always known each other, and now that they were thrown constantly together they were delighted with the arrangements made for them.
FORE:Her illness was of course aggravated by the accounts from Paris, and she heard with dismay that La Fayette had been made commander of the garde-nationale, which she dreaded to see him leading against the King. He had then reached the height of his power. [77]
ONE:They started at ten in the morning in two carriages, the first with six horses, the second, which contained the servants, with four. They had only two men, one French servant of their own, the other hired for the occasion, as they had sent four back to Paris. Their servant, Darnal, observed after a time that they were not going along the Dover road, by which he had been before, and pointed this out to Mme. de Genlis, who spoke to the postillions. They made some excuse, assuring her that they would get back on to the road, but they did nothing of the kind but went on at a rapid pace, saying they would soon be at a village called Dartford, which for a time reassured Mme. de Genlis. However, they did not arrive at Dartford, and presently two well-dressed men passed on foot and called out in distinct FrenchThey took a little house in a meadow looking down on the lake, and not even the authorities of the place knew who they were.
TWO:I am afraid, Messieurs, that you are very badly off.
THREE:
FORE:When she had painted the head and sketched out the arms and figure, Mme. Le Brun was obliged to go to Paris. She intended to come back to finish her work, but she found the murder of Foulon and Berthier had just taken place, and the state of [77] affairs was so alarming that her one object was to get out of France. The portrait fell into the hands of Count Louis de Narbonne, who restored it to her on her returnwhen she finished it.
Rashly they went to Paris in September, 1793, and were soon detained as suspected in their own house, where Father Carrichon, a priest, who in disguise carried on the work of his sacred calling, succeeded in visiting them frequently; and from the news he brought them they were before long [245] convinced that their lives would be sacrificed, and prepared with courage and resignation to meet their death.The Duc dAyen succeeded in getting away to Switzerland, and the Prince de Poix, who was arrested and being conducted to the Abbaye, contrived to escape on the way, remained hidden in Paris for six months, and then passed over undiscovered to England, where Pauline met him afterwards.He carried on an open liaison with the Countess Woronsoff, while Catherine, who regarded him with dislike and repugnance, consoled herself with Prince Soltikoff, the hero of Russia from his victory over Frederic the Great, King of Prussia, and then with Prince Stanislas Poniatowski.Their great stronghold was the salon of Mme. Geoffrin, where all the radical, atheist, and philosophic parties congregated. DAlembert, Condorcet, Turgot, Diderot, Morellet, Marmontel, and many other celebrated names were amongst the intimate friends of the singular woman, who although possessing neither rank, beauty, talent, nor any particular gift, had yet succeeded in establishing a salon celebrated not only in France but all over Europe. Owing to her want of rank she could not be presented at court, and yet amongst her guests were many of the greatest names in France, members of the royal family, strangers of rank and distinction. She knew nothing of art or literature, but her Monday dinners and evenings were the resort of all the first artists of the day, and her Wednesdays of the literary and political world.The Abbess might receive in her apartment and at dinner whatever guests she chose, men or women, but no men might go to the cloisters or any other part of the abbey. She had a carriage, horses, and servants of her own, and might go out when and where she pleased, taking with her any nuns she chose. She often drove to see different farms, &c., belonging to the abbey, and to visit sick people.