Nay, I am not sure that Mademoiselle de Nidemerle might not think I
had actually incurred a piteous lot. But chacun a son gout.
Well, this same expedient was this. M. de Poligny, who claimed the
best half of the Picardy estates in right of a grant from Henry III.
when in the power of the League, had made acquaintance with our half-
brother, Solivet, who had presented him to our mother, and he had
offered, with the greatest generosity possible--said my mother--to
waive his claims and put a stop to the suit (he knew it could not
hold for a moment), provided she would give her fair daughter to his
son, the Chevalier de Poligny, with the reversion of the Ribaumont
property, after my brother, on whom, vulture that he was, he had
fixed his eyes, as a man in failing health. My mother and her eldest
son were absolutely enraptured, and they expected Eustace to be
equally delighted with this escape from all difficulties. They were
closeted with him for two hours the morning after our return, while
Meg was left to enjoy herself with her son, and to converse with M.
d'Aubepine. That poor little thing's Elysium had come to an end as
soon as the Princes were released from prison. No sooner did her
husband find that his idol, the Prince on Conde, showed neither
gratitude nor moderate civility to the faithful wife who had fought
so hard for him, than his ape must needs follow in his track and cast
off Cecile--though, of course, she still held that his duty kept him
in attendance on the Prince, and that he would return to her.
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