could hardly have a
choice wardrobe. We thanked them, assuring Celeste that we had always
cultivated the habit of dressing each other's hair.

We put on our camayeu petticoats and our black velvet waists, adding
gloves; and in our hair, sparkling with gold powder, we put, each of us, a
bunch of the roses given us by Alix. We found ourselves charming, and
hoped to create a sensation. But if the baroness was satisfied she showed
no astonishment. Her hair, like her daughter's, was powdered, and both
wore gloves.

Suzanne on the arm of Olivier, I on Charles's, Celeste beside her fiance,
the grandparents in front, we entered the theater of St. Martinville, and
in a moment more were the observed of all observers. The play was a
vaudeville, of which I remember only the name, but rarely have I seen
amateurs act so well: all the prominent parts were rendered by young men.
But if the French people are polite, amiable, and hospitable, we know that
they are also very inquisitive. Suzanne was more annoyed than I can tell;
yet we knew that our toilets were in excellent taste, even in that place
full of ladies covered with costly jewels. When I asked Celeste how the
merchants of St. Martinville could procure these costly goods, she
explained that near by there was a place named the _Butte a la Rose_ that
greatly shortened the way to market.[18] They were bringing almost
everything from London, owing to the Revolution. Between the acts many
persons came to greet Madame du Clozel. Oh, how I longed to see the friend
of Alix! But I would not ask anything; I resolved to find her by the aid
of my heart alone.

Presently, as by a magnetic power, my attention was drawn to a tall and
beautiful young lady dressed in white satin, with no ornaments except a
set of gold and sapphires, and for headdress a _resille_ the golden
tassels of which touched her neck. Ah! how quickly I recognized those
brown eyes faintly proud, that kind smile, that queenly bearing, that
graceful step! I turned to Charles du Clozel, who sat beside me, and said:

"That is the Countess de la Houssaye, isn't it?"

"Do you know her?"

"I see her for the first time; but--I guessed it."

Several times I saw her looking at me, and once she smiled. During the
last two acts she came and shook hands with us, and, caressing our hair
with her gloved hand, said her husband had seen papa's letter; that it was
from a dear friend, and that she came to ask Madame du Clozel to let h