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Updated: June 15, 2025
In midsummer, 1795, Madelaine had been married between seven and eight years and her infant was, likely enough, her fourth child. The memoirist omits to say that this person was Neville Déclouet. "Oh!" cried Celeste, "but what will Tonton say when she sees you?"
The palmetto was to be split into the finest possible strips and platted into the form furnished by Madame Tonton. It was done; and on Sunday the hat, trimmed with roses and ribbons, made its appearance in the church of St. Martin, on the prettiest head in the world.
The days that followed were equally fête days a dinner here, a dance there, and everywhere the most gracious reception. At length came the day for us to meet at La Fontaine a real spring near St. Martinville, belonging to Neville Déclouet's uncle. About five in the afternoon we gathered on the bank of the bayou. We never saw Tonton twice in the same dress. To-day she was all in blue.
She was received with a cry of surprise; not for her beauty, not for her exquisite toilet, but because of him who entered with her. "Great God!" exclaimed Celeste du Clozel, "it is Tréville de Saint Julien!" "Oh!" cried Madame de la Houssaye, "Tonton is a fool, an arch-fool. Does she want to see bloodshed this evening?"
In the evening at the halting place, Tonton was brought into my tent, with the goat, which furnished her the greater part of her meals, and her inseparable friend, a large chameleon, captured by Michel, and responding or not responding to the name of Achilles.
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