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Updated: May 15, 2025
This imprudent and conceited schoolgirl had the face to pass before her sovereign without stopping, and without troubling to courtesy. The Infanta reddened with disapproval, and persuaded herself, by way of consolation, that Fontanges had lost her senses or was on the road to madness. Beautiful and brilliant as the flowers, the Duchess, like them, passed swiftly away.
"We have no occasion then to proceed further," observed Mr John Forster, with emotion. "The other articles you, of course, recognise?" "I do," replied Monsieur de Fontanges. "My brother had taken his passage in the same vessel, but was countermanded. Before he had time to select all his own baggage, which was mixed with that of his wife, the ship was blown out to sea, and proceeded on her voyage.
Entends-tu, Celeste; je parle a toi." "Oui, madame," replied the girl, throwing some orange flowers off her lap, and rising to deliver her message. Monsieur de Fontanges, who, like most of the Europeans, slept through the hottest portion of the day, rose in compliance with his wife's message, and made his appearance in the boudoir, dressed in a white cotton jacket and trousers.
"We have no occasion then to proceed further," observed Mr John Forster, with emotion. "The other articles you of course recognise?" "I do," replied Monsieur de Fontanges. "My brother had taken his passage in the same vessel, but was countermanded. Before he had time to select all his own baggage, which was mixed with that of his wife, the ship was blown out to sea, and proceeded on her voyage.
Of this Newton received the benefit. An excellent dinner or rather supper with M. de Fontanges, a comfortable bed in a room supplied with all that convenience or luxury could demand, enabled him to pass a very different night from those which we have lately described. About twelve o'clock the ensuing day, Newton was summoned by one of the slave girls to the boudoir of Madame de Fontanges.
The only negro was a little boy, about six years of age, dressed in a fantastic costume, who sat in a corner, apparently in a very sulky humour. Madame de Fontanges was a creole, that is, born in the West Indies, of French parents.
There is an inventory attached to it," continued the old lawyer, putting on his spectacles, and reading, "one diamond ring but perhaps it would be better that I should open the packet." "Will you permit me to look at the diamond ring, sir?" observed Monsieur de Fontanges. "The sight of that will identify the whole." "There it is, sir," replied Mr John Forster.
On a low ottoman, of elegant workmanship, covered with a damask French silk, reposed Madame de Fontanges, attended by three or four young female slaves, of different complexions, but none of pure African blood. Others were seated upon the different Persian carpets about the room, in listless idleness or strewing the petals of the orange-flower, to perfume the apartment with its odour.
M. de Fontanges, Archbishop of Toulouse, possessed also the Queen's confidence; but none of the endeavours which were made on the spot produced any, beneficial result.
"Oui, madame," replied the third, fanning in the direction pointed out. "Louise," said Madame de Fontanges, languidly, after a short pause, "apporte-moi de l'eau sucree." "Oui, madame," replied another, rising, in obedience to the order. "Non, non! Je n'en veux pas mais j'ai soif horrible. Manchette, va chercher de l'eau cerise." "Oui, madame," replied Manchette, rising from her seat.
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