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But nobody was afraid of Louis XVI., and when he did command he was by no means sure of obedience. He had ascended the throne with the most excellent intentions, abolished all sorts of abuses, and wanted to be the father of his people. But a father who cannot be respected is very likely not to be loved, and a ruler who cannot inspire fear cannot inspire respect either, and is not so fit to be a leader as one who possesses fewer virtues and more strength and courage. You think me de trs bonne maison, dont you? said the King; well, I myself should find difficulty in entering that order, because in the female line I descend in the eighth degree from a procureur.

Grard

I will never give it you! If you want to get it, kill me! And she swallowed it.

In the streets people recognised their own carriages turned into hackney coaches; the shops were full of their things; books with their arms, china, furniture, portraits of their relations, who had perhaps perished on the scaffold. Walking along the boulevard one day soon after her return to Paris she stopped at a shop, and on leaving her address, the lad who was serving her exclaimed The Duke put her back in the carriage and sat holding her in his arms; of what passed during their drive she never had a clear recollection, except that in a voice almost inaudible she ventured to ask if Rosalie was still alive, to which her father replied upon his word of honour that he had heard nothing of her. More, she dared not say, frightful visions rose before her eyes, she fancied herself seated upon the tumbril bound with other victims, and the thought was almost a relief to her. It was necessary in the next place to look for a permanent abode, and this seemed to be difficult. The apartment in the French Academy was too small, though every one who knows Rome will understand what a temptation its magnificent situation must have been to stay there.

Pauline went out a great deal, more as a duty than a pleasure. What she really cared for most were the interviews with her mother twice a week, and the time she snatched to be with her sisters when she could.

Lisette complained bitterly to her husband, who only told her to let them talk, and treated the matter with indignant contempt.

He stopped, and afterwards began to play with her; but another Jacobin from Grenoble, also a passenger, gave vent to all kinds of infamous and murderous threats and opinions, haranguing the people who collected round the diligence whenever they stopped for dinner or supper; whilst every now and then men rode up to the diligence, [88] announcing that the King and Queen had been assassinated, and that Paris was in flames. Lisette, terrified herself for the fate of those dear to her, tried to comfort her still more frightened child, who was crying and trembling, believing that her father was killed and their house burnt. At last they arrived safely at Lyon, and found their way to the house of a M. Artaut, whom Lisette did not know well. But she had entertained him and his wife in Paris on one or two occasions, she knew that their opinions were like her own, and thought they were worthy people, as indeed they proved to be.

They frequented the society of the Queen, went to balls, theatricals, and to suppers given by the esprits forts, such as the Marchale de Luxembourg, the old Duchesse de la Vallire, a great friend of M. de Beaune, who was a Noailles, and a contemporary of Louis XIV. [75]; also of the Marchale de Mirepoix, a leading member of society.