<000005>If she no longer cared for Barras nor he for her, there were plenty of others ready to worship her. M. Ouvrard, a millionaire who was under an obligation to her, heard her complain that she had no garden worth calling one. Some days later he called for her in his carriage, and took her to the door of a luxurious h?tel in the rue de Babylone. Giving her a gold key, he bade her open the door, and when she had given vent to her raptures over the sumptuous rooms and shady garden, he told her that her servants had already arrived; she was at homeall was hers.
A most stupid thing, as I will tell you. It is not to adjudge a house, or a field, or an inheritance, but a rose!It was with difficulty that she tore herself away when, in March, 1801, she wished to return to St. Petersburg, and it was upon her journey thither that she heard of the assassination of Paul I.
ONE:When the affair was fully explained to her she threw herself at his feet, exclaiming
And M. Turquan, [130] in his life of Mme. de Montesson, says:Tavannes drew back, and just then, seeing Prince Maurice de Montbarrey, Colonel of the Cent-Suisses of his guard, the Comte de Provence sent him to tell the man to go. Saint-Maurice obeyed, without knowing who the man was, and the Comte de Provence saw him turn pale and cast a terrible look at Saint-Maurice. He retired in silence, and not many years afterwards Saint-Maurice fell under his hand.Et les catins et les fripons?E. H. BearneIt would have perhaps been no wonder if, after all she had suffered in France, she had identified herself with her mothers family, and in another home and country forgotten as far as she could the land which must always have such fearful associations for her. But it was not so. Her father had told her that she was to marry no one but her cousin, the Duc dAngoulme, who, failing her brother, would succeed to the crown; and had written to the same effect to his brother the Comte de Provence.