You asked me to give you a description of her: she is about sixty years old, but she is infirm and seldom leaves her arm-chair; that and her suffering face make her look fifteen years older. She could never have been beautiful, or comely of form; yet her countenance is expressive and has a character of its own. She is very dark; her eyes are magnificent, just a little hard, but frank. Her nose is straight and too nearly approaches her mouth, which is not at all handsome. Her mouth is ordinarily scornful; still, her whole face gleams and mellows with a human sympathy when she smiles, and she smiles readily. My first impression agrees with my last. I believe this woman very good by principle rather than by impulse, and courageous rather than cheerful. She has intelligence and cultivation. In fine, she does not differ much from the description which Madame d'Arglade gave us of her. She was alone when I was conducted into her apartment. Gracefully enough she made me sit down close to her, and here is a report of our conversation:-- "You have been highly recommended to me by Madame d'Arglade, whom I esteem very much indeed. I know that you belong to an excellent family, that you have talents and an honorable character, and that your life has been blameless. I have therefore the greatest wish that we may understand each other and agree. For that, there must be two things: one that my offer may seem satisfactory to you; the other that our views may not be too much opposed, as that would be the source of frequent misunderstandings. Let us deal with the first question. I offer you twelve hundred francs a year." "So I have been told, Madame, and I have accepted." "Have I not been told, too, that you would perhaps find that insufficient?" "It is true, that is little for the needs of my situation; but Madame is the judge of her own affairs, and since I am here--" "Speak frankly; you think that is not enough?" "I cannot say that. It is probably more than my services are worth." "I am far from saying so, and you--you say it from modesty; but you fear that will not be enough to keep you? Do not let it trouble you; I will take everything upon myself; you will have no expense here except for your toilet, and in that regard I make no requirement. And do you love dress?" "Yes, Madame, very much; but I shall abstain from it, because in that matter you make no requirement." The sincerity of my answer appeared to astonish the Marchioness. Perhaps I ought not to have spoken without restraint, as it is my habit to do. She took a little time to collect herself. Finally she began to smile and said, "Ah, so! why do you love dress? You are young, pretty, and poor; you have neither the need nor the right to bedizen yourself?" "I have so little right to do it," I answered, "that I go simply clad, as you see." "That is very well, but you are troubled because your toilet is not more elegant?"