On her return to the capital, she was made perfectly happy by the arrival of her daughter, in better health than she had been for a long time, and who remained in Paris for several years. Her son, also, whose youthful follies had cost her many a pang, made an advantageous marriage. [Sidenote: 1684. Ætat. 58.] She writes to the count de Bussy, "After much trouble, I at last marry my poor boy. One must never despair of good luck. I feared that my son could no longer hope for a good match, after so many storms and wrecks, without employment or opening for fortune; and, while I was engaged in these sorrowful thoughts, Providence brought about a marriage, so advantageous that I could not have desired a better when my son's hopes were highest. It is thus that we walk blindly, taking for bad that which is good, and for good that which is bad, and always in utter ignorance." M. de Sévigné married Jeanne-Marguerite de Brehaut de Mauron, an amiable and virtuous woman, whose gentleness, and common sense, and turn for piety, joined to a caressing and playful disposition, suited admirably both mother and son. In the autumn of this year she visited the new married pair at the Rochers. It was a sad blow to her to quit Paris, where her daughter was residing. Motives of economy, or, rather, the juster motive of paying her debts, enforced this exile, which was hard to bear. We read her letters for the variety of amusement and instruction we find in them; and, as we read, we are struck by the change of tone that creeps over them. From the period of this long visit of eight years, which madame de Grignan paid to Paris, we find the most perfect and unreserved friendship subsisting between mother and daughter. Their ages agree better: the one, now forty, understands the other, who is sixty, better than the young woman of twenty did her of forty. Other interests, also, had risen for madame de Grignan in her children. Her anxiety for her son's advancement was fully shared by madame de Sévigné. A more sober, perhaps a less amusing, but certainly a far more interesting (if we may make this distinction), tone pervades the later letters. Her daughter, before, was the affection that weaned her from the world; now it mingled with higher and better thoughts. The Rochers were more peaceful than ever. Her son had not good health: his wife was cheerful only at intervals: she was delicate; she never went out: by nine in the evening her strength was exhausted, and she retired, leaving madame de Sévigné to her letters. She was gentle and kind withal; attentive, without putting herself forward; so that her mother-in-law never felt that there was another mistress in the house, though all her comforts were attended to sedulously.