cally, that there is
no obligation to (as Chesterfield put it not long after) _payer de sa
personne_; though she is naturally somewhat disgusted when the gifts
take the form of handsome _lingerie_ bought at another shop. When this,
and a dress to match, are made up, Marianne as naturally goes to church
to show them: and indulges in very shrewd if not particularly amiable
remarks on her "even-Christians"--a delightful English archaism, which
surely needs no apology for its revival. Coming out, she slips and
sprains her ankle, whereupon, still naturally, appears the inevitable
young man, a M. de Valville, who, after endless amicable wrangling,
procures her a coach, but not without an awkward meeting. For M. de
Valville turns out to be the nephew of M. de Climal; and the uncle, with
a lady, comes upon the nephew and Marianne; while, a little later, each
finds the other in turn at the girl's feet. Result: of course more than
suspicion on the younger man's part, and a mixture of wrath and desire
to hurry matters on the elder's. He offers Marianne a regular (or
irregular) "establishment" at a dependent's of his own, with a small
income settled upon her, etc. She refuses indignantly, the indignation
being rather suspiciously divided between her two lovers; is "planted
there" by the old sinner Climal, and of course requested to leave by
Mme. Dutour; returns all the presents, much to her landlady's disgust,
and once more seeks, though in a different mood, the shelter of the
Church. Her old helper the priest for some time absolutely declines to
admit the notion of Climal's rascality; but fortunately a charitable
lady is more favourable, and Marianne gets taken in as a _pensionnaire_
at a convent. Climal, whose sister and Valville's mother the lady turns
out to be, falls ill, repents, confesses, and leaves Marianne a
comfortable annuity. Union with Valville is not opposed by the mother;
but other members of the family are less obliging, and Valville himself
wanders after an English girl of a Jacobite exiled family, Miss Warton
(Varthon). The story then waters itself out, before suddenly collapsing,
with a huge and uninteresting _Histoire d'une Religieuse_. Whereat some
folk may grumble; but others, more philosophically, may be satisfied, in
no uncomplimentary sense, without hearing what finally made Marianne
Countess of Three Stars, or indeed knowing any more of her actual
history.

For in fact the entire interest of _Marianne_ is