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Updated: June 25, 2025
"My family may not be unknown to his royal highness the Duke of Orleans. We are De Ferriers of Mont-Louis; emigrés now, like many others." "Madame, I knew your family well. They were loyal to their king." "My father died here in America. Before we sailed we saw this man in London." "And with him " "A boy." "Do you remember the boy well?" "I remember him perfectly."
For only nobles in medieval days were accorded the privilege of keeping doves. Should there be such another evening for me when I come to paradise, if God in His mercy brings me there, I shall be grateful, but hardly with such fresh-hearted joy. Night descends with special benediction on remote ancient homes like Mont-Louis.
They did not go back to Mont-Louis. They left their hotel in Paris. I wrote imploring him to hold the estates. My messages were returned. I don't know how he got money enough to emigrate. But emigrate they did; avoiding Castorland, where the Saint-Michels, who brought her up, lived in comfort, and might have comforted her, and where I could have made her life easy.
All my faith in the appearances of things is at an end. I have been juggled with. I have misjudged. I could have insisted that we hold Mont-Louis as tenants. The count is our friend. It is not a strong man's fault that a weak man is weak and unfortunate. Yet seeing Cousin Philippe wince, I could not put the daily humiliation upon him. He is like my father come back, broken, helpless.
It was not likely that any person about Mont-Louis had stolen the book, and wandered so far. Small as the volume was, the boards indented my breast and made me increasingly conscious of its presence. I waked in the night and held it. Next morning Johnny Appleseed was gone from the fort, unafraid of war, bent only on carrying the apple of civilization into the wilderness.
But nothing that I could write was fit to send, and I knew not whether she was yet at Mont-Louis. Forever she was holding the door against me. Skenedonk, coming and going at his caprice, stayed a month in every year at Longmeadow, where the townspeople, having had a surfeit of aboriginal names, called him John.
"It met me at the foot of this hill. The goose girl told me." "Oh, you have been hurt!" she said, looking at me. "Your face is all seamed. Don't tell me about Mittau to-day. Paul and I are taking possession of the estates!" "Napoleon has given them back to you!" "Yes, he has! I begged the De Chaumonts to let me come alone! By hard posting we reached Mont-Louis last night.
And Paul and I, who are young, must take care of him where he will be least humbled. I was over-pampered in Mont-Louis and Paris. I like easy living, carriages, long-tailed gowns, jewels, trained servants, music, and spectacles on the stage; a park and wide lands all my own; seclusion from people who do not interest me; idleness in enjoyment. I am the devil of vanity.
"Sire, we are not observing etiquette in Mont-Louis as they observe it at Mittau. I have been talking very familiarly to my king. I will keep silent. You speak." "Madame, you have forbidden me to speak!" She gave me a startled look, and said, "Did you know Jerome Bonaparte has come back? He left his wife in America.
Yet there was our chateau, Mont-Louis, two or three days' journey east from Paris. The park was so beautiful. I think of it, and of Paul." "And what about this country, madame? Is there nothing beautiful here?" "The fact has been impressed on me, monsieur, that it does not belong to me. I am an emigré. In city or country my father and Cousin Philippe kept me with them.
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