our town, and in this
rejoicing I was the only person sad. I could neither laugh like the
others, nor even eat, so oppressed was my heart. I know not the
cause of my sadness; but, my God, it was as if a presentiment you
were giving me of what should befall me.
Hardly was I married when the recollection of my desire to be a nun
came to overwhelm me.
All those who came to compliment me the day after my marriage could
not help rallying me because I wept bitterly, and I said to them,
"Alas! I had once so desired to be a nun; why am I now married; and
by what fatality is this happened to me?"
I was no sooner at home with my new husband than I clearly saw that
it would be for me a house of sorrow. I was obliged to change my
conduct, for their manner of living was very different from that in
my father's house. My mother-in-law, who had been long time a
widow, thought only of saving, while in my father's house we lived
in an exceedingly noble manner. Everything was showy and everything
on a liberal scale, and all my husband and mother-in-law called
extravagance, and I called respectability, was observed there.
I was very much surprised at this change, and the more so as my
vanity would rather have increased than cut down expenditure. I was
fifteen years of age--in my sixteenth year--when I was married.
My astonishment greatly increased when I saw that I must give up
what I had with so much trouble acquired. At my father's house we
had to live with much refinement, learn to speak correctly. All I
said was there applauded and made much of. Here I was not listened
to, except to be contradicted and to be blamed. If I spoke well they
said it was to read them a lesson. If any one came and a subject was
under discussion, while my father used to make me speak, here, if I
wished to express my opinion, they said it was to dispute, and they
ignominiously silenced me, and from morning to night they chided me.
They led my husband to do the same, and he was only too well
disposed for it.
I should have a difficulty in writing these sort of things to you,
which can not be done without wounding charity, if you had not
forbidden me to omit anything, and if you had not thus absolutely
commanded me to explain everything, and give all particulars. One
thing I ask, before going further, which
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