And so it came about that, one fine day in the spring of 1773, Mlle. Clairon bade farewell to all her friends in Paris, and set out for Anspach, whence she wrote to the faithless Valbelle that it was her intention "to consecrate the remainder of her days" to the Margrave. At Anspach, Mlle. Clairon remained for seventeen years. Our chief source of information in regard to this period of her career are her own letters to her old pupil, Larive, with whom she continued to correspond regularly. In the earliest of these, she can hardly find words to describe the joys of her new life. "I am very well," she writes, shortly after her installation, "and taking into consideration the care, the homage, the comforts, the kindnesses, and the marks of attachment that are lavished upon me, it would be impossible for my heart and my vanity not to be satisfied. My house does not grow less full; the greatest ladies do me the honour of supping with me. You cannot form any idea of the position I occupy in this country. I believe that I am in a dream. Sometimes I am tempted to imagine myself a personage...." And again, under date October 15, 1773:-- * * * * * "Would to Heaven, my dear child, that I had you near me! I should then be able to say that never had I been so happy. Every comfort, no kind of vexation, consideration, a commodious and beautiful house, a well-ordered, pleasant, and honourable life independent of the caprices which formerly troubled me, the impossibility of meeting ungrateful people, of seeing or hearing anything which recalls them, the opportunity of doing good--all this renders my life infinitely sweet. Add to all these blessings the certainty of making the happiness of the sweetest and kindest being I have ever known. After you had seen him, you would love him: that is nothing; one cannot form any idea of this good prince, unless you live with him. I see him every day, and am equally astonished at his frankness and the noble simplicity that characterises all his actions. It is for such sovereigns that it is just and right to sacrifice one's life, and I feel no regret at having sacrificed mine to him." * * * * * But this enthusiasm does not last long, and, before twelve months have passed, we find Mademoiselle complaining of everything at Anspach, from the air to the cooking. In one letter she tells her correspondent that "the air of the country and _ennui_ are killing her"; in another, that she has had to send for a French cook, because the Anspach cooking "displeased as much as it disagreed with her";[207] in a third, that she has had to abandon an attempt to establish a theatre at the Court, "because there are scarcely a dozen persons there who can carry on a conversation in French, while the rest do not understand a word of the language"; and, in a fourth, that "the women of this country are destitute of every grace to which your eyes are accustomed."