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Updated: May 19, 2025
TIENS!" and she gave a little shrug and sigh, "It is sad to think he died of over-eating." The Marquis laughed. "You are incorrigible, belle Loyse!" he said, "You should write these things, not speak them." "Really! And do I not write them? Yes, you know I do, and that you envy me my skill. The Figaro is indebted to me for many admirable essays.
"Now the Church," went on Loyse D'Agramont, pursuing the tenor of her thoughts, "is in a bad way all over the world. It is possible that God is offended with it. It is possible, that after nearly two thousand years of patience He is tired of having come down to us to teach us the path of Heaven in vain. Something out of the common has surely moved the Abbe Vergniaud to speak as he spoke to-day.
This was one of his "pretty drawing-room tricks" according to Loyse D'Agramont who always laughed unmercifully at these kind of courtesies. They had been the stock-in-trade of her late husband, and she knew exactly what value to set upon them. But Angela was easily moved by tenderness, and the smallest word of love, the lightest caress made her happy and satisfied for a long time.
"If he believes ME, he knows," replied Loyse D'Agramont, "But perhaps he does not believe me! All Paris was talking about the Abbe Vergniaud and his son 'Gys Grandit', when I left, and the Marquis appeared as interested in that esclandre as he can ever be interested in anything or anybody. So perhaps he forgot my visit as soon as it was ended. Abbe Vergniaud is very ill by the way.
Angela's eyes filled with tears as they rested on her friend's kindly face, a face usually so brilliant in its animated expression, but now saddened and worn by constant watching and fatigue. "You are far too good to me," she said in a low voice "And I am most unworthy of all your attention." Loyse D'Agramont paid no heed to this remark, but resumed reading the Prince Sovrani's epistle
He rendered it now with an individuality, a heartfelt sincerity and charm, that he had not previously attained; in contrast to harsh King Louis and unfeeling Loyse, was so poor, and hungry, and ill and merry and tender and such a hero and such a genius that I said to myself: "Who, ever has seen this, has lived."
At the same time I do not give you permission to call me Loyse." "Forgive me!" and the Marquis folded his hands with an air of mock penitence. "Perhaps I will, presently," and she laughed, "But meanwhile I want you to do something for me." "Toujours a votre service, madame!" and Fontenelle bowed profoundly. "How theatrical you look!
Angela raised her eyes, full of sadness, yet also full of light. "Yes," she said. "I will! I will work my grief into a glory if I can! And the loss of world's love shall teach me to love God more!" Loyse D'Agramont embraced her. "That is my Angela!" she said. "That is what I wanted you to feel to know for I too have suffered!"
But we have always corresponded." "You have of course heard who he really is? The son of Abbe Vergniaud?" continued the Princesse. "I have heard but only this morning, and I do not know any of the details of the story." "Then you must certainly come and drive with us," said Loyse D'Agramont, "for I can tell you all about it.
O, Margarid, Hena, Meroë, Loyse, Genevieve, Ellen, Sampso, Victoria the Great rejoice! Rejoice that you have quitted this world for the mysterious worlds where we shall live forever! Rejoice at the strongness of your hearts!
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