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Updated: May 5, 2025
What annoys you, my child, is that I laugh while you are writing; and what you are afraid of is that Madame de Saint-Remy, your mother, should come up here, as she does sometimes when we laugh too loud, that she should surprise us, and that she should see that enormous sheet of paper upon which, in a quarter of an hour, you have only traced the words Monsieur Raoul.
"They say she is well conducted." "Oh!" said the king, smiling, "that is mere report." "But rare enough, at court, sire, to believe when it is spread." "Perhaps you are right. Is she well born?" "Excellently; the daughter of the Marquis de la Valliere, and step-daughter of that good M. de Saint-Remy."
"M. de Saint-Remy?" repeated the cavalier, slightly blushing. "Do you know him?" "Why, yes; but request him, if you please, that my visit be announced to his royal highness as soon as possible." "It appears to be pressing," said the guard, as if speaking to himself, but really in the hope of obtaining an answer. The messenger made an affirmative sign with his head.
"I did not say a royal court, madame," replied Montalais; "because Madame Henrietta of England, who is about to become the wife of S. A. R. Monsieur, is not a queen. I said almost royal, and I spoke correctly, since she will be sister-in-law to the king." A thunderbolt falling upon the castle of Blois would not have astonished Madame de Saint-Remy more than the last sentence of Montalais.
"Daughter-in-law," continued Madame, "of M. de Saint-Remy, my maitre d'hotel, who presided over the confection of that excellent daube truffee which your majesty seemed so much to appreciate." No grace, no youth, no beauty, could stand out against such a presentation. The king smiled.
On this head, however, she soon saw that such fears were exaggerated. The Marquise de Saint-Remy was but slightly scandalised at what was going on. She and the Marquis de Saint-Remy, her second husband, strictly proper though they were, came to greet their daughter when proclaimed duchess.
Malicorne was less generous; he assumed noble poses in his fauteuil and stretched himself out with a familiarity which, two hours earlier, would have drawn upon him threats of a caning. "Maid of honor to the young madame!" repeated Madame de Saint-Remy, still but half convinced. "Yes, madame, and through the protection of M. Malicorne, moreover."
But the king, who appeared to wish to be informed, was disposed to give another look at this dismal spot. Gaston perceived his nephew's desire. "Look, sire," said he, taking a flambeaux from the hands of M. de Saint-Remy, "this is where he fell. There was a bed there, the curtains of which he tore with catching at them." "Why does the floor seem hollowed out at this spot?" asked Louis.
"I did not say a royal court, madame," replied Montalais; "because Madame Henrietta of England, who is about to become the wife of S. A. R. Monsieur, is not a queen. I said almost royal, and I spoke correctly, since she will be sister-in-law to the king." A thunderbolt falling upon the castle of Blois would not have astonished Madame de Saint-Remy more than the last sentence of Montalais.
On August 20, 1792, Longwy was invested and in three days capitulated. In the camp of the Comte d'Artois "there was not one of us," wrote Las Casas, "who did not see himself, in a fortnight, triumphant, in his own home, surrounded by his humbled and submissive vassals." At length from their bivouacs at Saint-Remy and at Suippes the nobles saw in the distance the towers of Châlons.
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