“I recognised you directly in spite of your dress, your beard, your dyed hair, and false scar.”The Meuse was frozen and must be crossed on foot. Pauline, who was again enceinte, managed, leaning upon her husband’s arm, slipping and stumbling, to get as far as the island in the middle. M. de Montagu insisted on her being carried the rest of the way by a sailor. M. de Beaune was helped by his only servant, Garden, a tiresome German boy of fifteen. They got to Helvoetsluys after dark, crossed next day, and after about a week found a cottage at Margate with a garden going down to the sea, which they took, and with which they were delighted. It stood between the sea and the country, and near them lived the family of M. Le Rebours, President of the Parliament of Paris, faithful Royalists who were happy enough all to have escaped, father, mother, grand-parents, six  children, and three old servants. He himself had just then gone to Paris to try to save some of his fortune. They had turned a room into a private chapel where mass was said by an old Abbé; all attended daily, and, needless to say, the prayer for the King was made with special fervour.
She heard there was a plot to carry off Mademoiselle d’Orléans, which made her uneasy, and several other things happened which rather alarmed her.
The position was changed indeed since their first meeting, when, unknown and unconsidered, he was invited, in a manner that could scarcely be called complimentary, to criticise the portrait of the beautiful, fashionable woman who now stood before him as lovely as ever, her face pale, and her soft dark eyes raised anxiously to his, but without any symptom of terror.
What made this all the more provoking was that M. de Calonne was not even, like M. de Vaudreuil,  a great friend of hers. She did not know him at all intimately, and in fact only once went to a party given by him at the Ministère des finances, and that was because the soirée was in honour of Prince Henry of Prussia, who was constantly at her house. The splendid portrait she painted of Calonne was exhibited in the Salon of 1786. Mlle. Arnould remarked on seeing it, “Mme. Le Brun has cut his legs off to keep him in the same place,” alluding to the picture being painted to the knees.“Grotesque monument, infame piédestal.
“You are suffering,” said the Duchess; “come confide in me, we are both French in a foreign land, and ought to help and comfort each other.” 
The errors of her youth she abandoned and regretted, and her latter years had by no means the dark and gloomy character that she had pictured to herself, when she left the Palais Royal and fled from France and the Revolution, in whose opening acts she had rejoiced with Philippe-égalité.They were thankful indeed to find themselves at Schaffhausen, where they were joined by the Duc de Chartres. It was fortunate for his sister that she did not remain with him; he had been obliged to  fly with Dumouriez two days after she left, through firing and dangers of all kinds; and what would have become of a girl of sixteen, in a violent illness, with no one to look after her?
And small wonder! Was the Duchess of Orléans—a woman of saintly character and the great grand-daughter  of Louis XIV.—to tolerate the governess of her children being seen in a den of blasphemy and low, unspeakable vice and degradation like the Cordeliers Club, or their being themselves shown with rejoicing a scene of horror and murder, and join in the triumph of ruffians who were attacking their religion, and the King and Queen, who were also their own cousins? Was it possible that anybody in their senses would tolerate such a governess? Added to which the Duchess was now aware of the terms on which Mme. de Genlis and the Duke stood to each other. It could no longer be said of her—
M. de Montagu, remembering his wife’s proceedings with the former baby, insisted upon the others being brought up in the country, and Pauline again went out with her father-in-law, receiving a great deal of admiration which delighted him, but about which she cared very little. She was very pretty, considered very like what the Duchess, her mother, had been at her age, and perfectly at her ease in society, even when very young, and timid with her new relations; not being the least nervous  during her presentation at Versailles, which was rather a trying and imposing ceremony.“Madame, do you know what it costs to wish for once in one’s life to see the sun rise? Read that and tell me what you think of the poetry of our friends.
Mme. de Genlis never went to the Imperial court, but led a quiet literary life; quiet, that is to say, so far as the word can be applied to one whose salon was the resort of such numbers of people.“A quinze ans,” said the old soldier, firmly, “j’ai monté à l’assaut pour mon roi; à prés de quatre-vingts ans je monterai à l’échafaud pour mon Dieu.”详情
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