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Updated: June 11, 2025
Her errors proceeded from an inexhaustible fund of activity, which demanded perpetual employment. She found no satisfaction in the customary intrigues of her sex, but, being formed for vast designs, sought the direction of important enterprises and discoveries. In her place Madam de Longueville would have been a mere trifler, in Madam de Longueville's situation she would have governed the state.
Madame de Longueville's piety had been generally subordinated to the vicissitudes of a very agitated existence. Her primitive tendency to devotion was rekindled on every occasion that she experienced a trouble, a disenchantment, or any failure of courage.
"Monsieur is perhaps a medical man?" asked one of Emilie's sisters-in-law with ironical meaning. "Monsieur has left the Ecole Polytechnique," Mademoiselle de Fontaine kindly put in; her face had flushed with richer color, as she learned that the young lady of the ball was Monsieur Longueville's sister.
In another place, however, the same judicious and usually discriminating writer is betrayed into giving more from conjecture, it would seem, than close acquaintance with the facts of her life an historically false and singularly unjust estimate of Madame de Longueville's character. "Alda.
"But oh, my dear, it was a romantic time! and I look back and am proud to have lived in it. I was but twelve years old at the siege of Paris; but I was in Madame de Longueville's room, at the Hotel de Ville, while the fighting was going on, and the officers, in their steel cuirasses, coming in from the thick of the strife.
There 's a woman that comes to the tables a Portuguese countess who has hair that is positively blue. I can't say I admire it when it comes to that shade. Blue 's my favorite color, but I prefer it in the eyes," continued Longueville's companion, resting upon him her own two brilliant little specimens of the tint.
"I think you know a great friend of mine, Miss Ella Maclane, of Baltimore. She 's travelling in Europe now." Longueville's memory did not instantly respond to this signal, but he expressed that rapturous assent which the occasion demanded, and even risked the observation that the young lady from Baltimore was very pretty. "She 's far too lovely," his companion went on.
Perhaps this was another, a younger daughter, though, indeed, she bore no resemblance to either of Longueville's friends. Gordon Wright, in spite of Bernard's interrogative glances, indulged in no optical confidences. He had too much to tell. He would keep his story till they should be alone together.
The second declares that "this lady has ever written as well as any one living." The fact is, so far as may be judged from those of her letters which have come down to us, that Madame de Longueville's style bore the reflex of her conversation: there are some passages very remarkable in their force, some phrases altogether trite and insignificant.
When she was left alone in the drawing-room with her father, the old man went up to her affectionately, held her hands, and asked her whether she had gained any light at to Monsieur Longueville's family and fortune. "Yes, my dear father," she replied, "and I am happier than I could have hoped. In short, Monsieur de Longueville is the only man I could ever marry."
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