Formerly, upon exciting occasions, we had a good nervous attack and all was over; the crisis passed, we became amiable again, put on rouge and went to a ball.

Now it is languor, ennui, stomach troubles--all imagination and humbug! The men are just as bad, and they call it spleen! Spleen! a new discovery, an English importation! Fine things come to us from England; to begin with, the constitutional government! All this is perfectly ridiculous.

As for you, Clemence, you ought to put an end to such childishness.

Two months ago, in Paris, you did not have any of the rest that you enjoy here.

I had serious reasons for wishing to delay my departure; my apartment to refurnish, my neuralgia which still troubles me--and Constance, who had just been in the hands of the doctor, was hardly in a condition to travel, poor creature! You would listen to nothing; we had to submit to your caprices, and now--" "But, aunt, you admitted yourself that it was the proper thing for me to do, to join my husband.