She therefore requests madame
Guerard will call next Monday, at two o'clock, on her at her
hotel, rue de la Pussienne."
Poor Genevieve nearly fainted when she received this note, which
was conveyed to her by a footman wearing my livery. She could
not imagine to whom she was indebted for procuring her such exalted
patronage, and she and her family spent the intervening hours
before her appointed interview in a thousand conjectures on the
subject. On Monday, punctually at two o'clock, she was at the
hotel dressed in her best, her lovely countenance setting off the
humble style of even her holiday garb. She knew me the instant
she saw me; and, in the frank simplicity of her own heart imagining
she could judge of mine, she ran to me, and threw herself into
my arms, exclaiming,
"Oh, my dear Jeannette, what pleasure does it afford me to meet
you again. Oh! I see how it is; you are the friend of the comtesse
du Barry, and it is to you I shall owe my future good fortune, as
I do this present mark of her favor."
"No, my good Genevieve," cried I, weeping for joy, "she who now
embraces you is the comtesse du Barry."
After we had a little recovered ourselves, I took my friend by the
hand, and led her to a sofa, where we seated ourselves side by
side. Returning to the scenes of our early youth, I related to
Genevieve all that had occurred since--my adventures, faults,
and favour.
Pages:
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353