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which fortunately for her lasted only two years. Her husband had become ‘ill’ after a love affair, I was told, for he had led a very wild life and he subsequently died. Poor Marie Theresel At the time of our meeting she was obliged to be the constant companion of her father-in-law, who was eccentric and mourned all the time for his son; all he cared about besides that was his collection of watches, and when he was not in a state of melancholy over the death of his son, he was clucking over his watches, winding them, displaying them to anyone whom he could bore with them. At least if I was apprehensive I was excited. The Princesse de Lamballe’s life was just one morbid journey from castle to castle with her peculiar father-in-law and his watches. Yet I found comfort in our meeting, and the moment when she was presented to me stands out clearly in my mind even now, among all those introductions which seemed to go on for hours and hours.
    Everything was done with the utmost ceremony—even the trying-on of my wedding ring. They had to be sure that they had one which would fit, so the Master of Ceremonies came to my apartment accompanied by the King. With them came the Princes of the Blood Royal and the aunts, although the sole purpose of this little ceremony was that I should try on twelve rings to see which fitted me. When it had been found it was taken from me to be put on
     
    my finger by the Dauphin. The King embraced me and took his leave; and then, one by one, in order of precedence, the others did the same.
    I was tired out and longed for my bed, and as my women prepared me I began to think of the Dauphin, who seemed so different from everyone else. He had scarcely spoken to me; he had scarcely looked at me; and I could hardly’re member what he looked like. Yet I could remember the face of the King and that of the Princesse de Lamballe perfectly
    “Madame is thoughtful,” said one of my women.
    “She is thinking of the Dauphin,” whispered another coyly.
    I smiled at the two girls; they looked gay, as though they were rather pleased to escape from the supervision of Madame de Noailles and my severe ladies-in-waiting.
    “Yes,” I admitted.
    “I was.” And as I spoke I seemed to hear my mother’s voice: Do not be too familiar with subordinates. ” But I must talk to someone. I longed for a little conversation which was not governed by etiquette.
    “It’s natural for a bride to think of her bridegroom.”
    I smiled encouragingly.
    “He will sleep under a different roof tonight.” The girl’s voice rose on a giggle.
    “Why?”
    They smiled at me in the indulgent way people did at home in Vienna.
    “Because he could not be under the same roof as the bride until the wedding night. He will stay in the house of the Comte de Saint-Plorendn, the Minister and Secretary of State of the King’s Household.”
    “It’s interesting,” I said suppressing a yawn.
    I lay in my bed and went on thinking about the Dauphin. I wondered whether he was thinking about me, and if so, what his thoughts might be.
    Years later when I came to know him very well I saw what he had written in his journal on that night. It was characteristic of him and it told nothing (but by that time I had learned his secret and I knew the
    reason for his strange conduct towards me). It simply said: “Interview with Madame la Dauphine.”
    The next day we were to leave for the Chateau de la Muette, where we were to spend one night before going to Versailles the next day.
    As we set out I was immediately aware that something was wrong. In the first place the King did not accompany us. He had gone on ahead. I wondered why. I learned later that it was because the road to Versailles from La Muette passed Paris, and the King never rode in state near or through his capital if he could help it. He had no intention, on an occasion like this, of receiving the hostile silence of the people. This is why I had seen those cynical looks on the people’s