“One day Mademoiselle de Bourbonne returned from her stay in society looking very depressed, and remained a long time with Madame de Rochechouart. The next day all her relations came to see Madame de Rochechouart, and ten days later she came to us, conducted by Mesdemoiselles de Châtillon, the eldest of whom was her great friend, to announce her marriage with M. le Comte d’Avaux, son of M. le Marquis de Mesme. We all gathered round her, and asked her a hundred questions. She was barely twelve years old, was to make her first communion a week thence, to be married eight days after that, and then return to the Convent.[50] She seemed so very melancholy that we asked her if her intended did not please her. She frankly told us that he was very ugly and very old, and she added that he was coming to see her the next day. We begged the Lady Abbess to have the Orléans apartments, which looked on to the Abbatial court, thrown open to us, so that we might view the intended husband of our companion, and she granted our request. “The next day, on awaking, Mademoiselle de Bourbonne received a large bouquet, and in the afternoon M. d’Avaux came. We thought him horrible, which he certainly was. When Mademoiselle de Bourbonne came out of the parlour, we all said to her: ‘Ah! good heavens! how ugly your husband is; if I were you, I would not marry him. Ah! you unfortunate girl!’ And she said: ‘Oh, I shall marry him, because papa insists upon it; but I shall not love him, that is certain.’ It was decided that she should not see him again till the day she made her first communion, so that her attention should not be distracted. She made her first communion at the end of eight days, and four or five days after was married in the chapel of the hôtel d’Havré. “She returned to the Convent the same day. She was given jewels, diamonds, and magnificent wedding presents from Boland; what amused her most was that we all called her Madame d’Avaux. She told us that after the wedding ceremony there had been a breakfast at her mother-in-law’s; that they had wanted her to kiss her husband, but that she began to cry, and absolutely refused; and that then her mother-in-law had said she was only a child. Henceforth her strong aversion to her husband only grew and flourished, and once when he asked for her in the parlour, she pretended to have sprained her ankle sooner than go down to see him.” On hearing of such marriages it is impossible not to feel some indulgence for the theory of free choice so eloquently pleaded by the women and philosophers of that period. We are therefore scarcely surprised to hear that some years later Madame d’Avaux, on meeting in society the Vicomte de Sègur, youngest brother of the ambassador, was so captivated by his charming wit and personal attractions that she was drawn into an intimacy which lasted all her life.