gay, he never sought to inspire affection in any of the fair ladies who were at so much pains to please him. He steadily refused all offers of marriage which were made him, although some of the most splendid _partis_, both maids and widows, were among the number. From the first moment of his beholding Madame de B——, which was on her arrival with her husband, while changing horses at the last relay towards Paris, at the post-house, where he happened to be halting with his troop—he had owned himself her slave; he vowed to me for years afterwards, that no other woman should ever boast of having won a thought from him, and that no other female hand should ever feel the pressure of his own. His heart was with her who was suffering loneliness and captivity for his sake, and he regarded as sacrilege the idea of a possibility that he could break his vow of fidelity to her. At the revolution, he was imprisoned, but released _faute de preuves_, and, meanwhile, the convents having been broken up and dispersed, his first step was to secure a safe retreat for Madame de B——. Together they fled to Holland, where they remained for some years, and returned, when the storm was over, as man and wife. They lived together in happiness, and we all can bear witness to the grace and distinction which she shed around the circle she frequented, and to the respect with which she inspired all who approached her, as well as to the regret which was universally felt when she was withdrawn from us for ever. Such is the true story of the Marquis de J——: now tell me, Jeune France, will ye dare to condemn the _ancien régime_, or say that you even understand the depth of devotion and of love from which such faith as this could spring?” * * * * * The prince rose as he concluded his story, and the grating of carriage-wheels on the gravel walk without the windows, announced the hour for the promenade. I took my seat in one of the landaus by the side of C., who had promised to show me the lions of the place, but it was some time before I could command my attention to the beauties of the scene, for the story of the prince had brought back the memory of my last _soirée_ in Paris, where I had beheld a withered old man playing with avidity at _bouillotte_, and I remembered to have been startled and disgusted when he took up his cards in a _three-fingered_ grasp. And now I remembered, too, that his partner had addressed him by the name of De J——. CHAPTER V. CHILDHOOD AND JUVENILE YEARS OF TALLEYRAND.