"That is what we call our drawing-room--a large apartment in which we gather in the evening. There we play at guessing riddles, charades, and _bouts-rimés_. Some read verses, or recite to us, and we even have music. Look! Do you see that gentleman seated over there under an arch, turning the pages of an album? That is the Baron de Wyrbach, who plays some charming airs every evening on his _viola d'amoré_. He exhausts his ingenuity to find something new for us." Olivier listened in astonishment, beginning to be really reassured. "You see," continued the marquise, "we might imagine ourselves still at Versailles." Then she added with a sad smile-- "And so we are in one sense, for all that remains of Versailles is now in prison." And she mentioned many names, singling out among the prisoners those who belonged to the old Court: the Prince and Princess de Saint-Maurice, the Chevalier de Pons, and the Count d'Armaille, whose nephew, young d'Hauteville, had been a page to Louis XVI. A group had formed round a young woman seated on the grassy knoll, her back against the acacia, fanning herself daintily. "Look now! Would you not think it a court of love in one of the groves of Trianon? It is Madame de Méré receiving the homage of her admirers." Madame de Méré rose at that moment to meet another lady who was coming towards her, pretty, neat, and natty in her spotless toilet; and Madame de Choiseul explained to Olivier who the newcomer was. "That is Madame de Verneuil, who remains, though in prison, as coquettish and as fashionably dressed as she used to be at Court. She even finds time to make her usual change of toilet regularly three times a day, without the assistance of maid or hairdresser. Not only does she dress herself, and do her own hair, but she washes, dries, and gets up her own linen! And all this in such good-humour that it brings tears to one's eyes." Olivier was now quite reassured with regard to the severity of the prison rules to which his mother and Thérèse were subjected. He was, nevertheless, astonished at the careless indifference which he saw around him. If the populace had revolted him on the Place de la Révolution, this aristocratic company in the prison dumfounded him. He could not hide his feelings, or refrain from expressing his surprise; but he did so respectfully, with tact, and in perfectly good taste. Clarisse essayed to interrupt him; but Madame de Choiseul had already replied--