Letters of Two Brides

I feel as if I had left the convent to-day for the first time. For

society I do not yet exist; I am unknown to it. What a ravishing

moment! I still belong only to myself, like a flower just blown,

unseen yet of mortal eye.

In spite of this, my sweet, as I paced the drawing-room during my

self-inspection, and saw the poor cast-off school-clothes, a queer

feeling came over me. Regret for the past, anxiety about the future,

fear of society, a long farewell to the pale daisies which we used to

pick and strip of their petals in light-hearted innocence, there was

something of all that; but strange, fantastic visions also rose, which

I crushed back into the inner depths, whence they had sprung, and

whither I dared not follow them.

My Renee, I have a regular trousseau! It is all beautifully laid away

and perfumed in the cedar-wood drawers with lacquered front of my

charming dressing-table. There are ribbons, shoes, gloves, all in

lavish abundance. My father has kindly presented me with the pretty

gewgaws a girl loves--a dressing-case, toilet service, scent-box, fan,

sunshade, prayer-book, gold chain, cashmere shawl. He has also

promised to give me riding lessons. And I can dance! To-morrow, yes,

to-morrow evening, I come out!

My dress is white muslin, and on my head I wear a garland of white

roses in Greek style. I shall put on my Madonna face; I mean to play

the simpleton, and have all the women on my side. My mother is miles

away from any idea of what I write to you. She believes me quite

destitute of mind, and would be dumfounded if she read my letter. My

brother honors me with a profound contempt, and is uniformly and

politely indifferent.

He is a handsome young fellow, but melancholy, and given to moods. I

have divined his secret, though neither the Duke nor Duchess has an

inkling of it. In spite of his youth and his title, he is jealous of

his father. He has no position in the State, no post at Court, he

never has to say, "I am going to the Chamber." I alone in the house

have sixteen hours for meditation. My father is absorbed in public

business and his own amusements; my mother, too, is never at leisure;

no member of the household practises self-examination, they are

constantly in company, and have hardly time to live.

I should immensely like to know what is the potent charm wielded by

society to keep people prisoner from nine every evening till two or

three in the morning, and force them to be so lavish alike of strength

and money. When I longed for it, I had no idea of the separations it

brought about, or its overmastering spell. But, then, I forget, it is

Paris which does it all.