“I therefore beg you, Madame, if you do not wish to run the risk of having your things publicly sold, to send me a bill of exchange or an order on some bank, so that by the end of April I may be able to meet their claims.
“The bills I have been able to collect, added to those I already know of, amount to about five thousand florins in our coin. As I do not intend to be in Brussels after the 15th of May, I warn you that unless I receive the money by the first of the month, I shall hand over your possessions to a public auctioneer, who will estimate their value and settle with the creditors, and I shall have nothing more to do with it. You will certainly not profit by this arrangement; for I should have been more economical and have taken more interest in your affairs than he will.
“Sidonie is in excellent health; she is a dear little thing, and although you hardly notice her, she often speaks of you, and never forgets to mention her mother in her little prayers. Impatiently awaiting your reply, for, with the precautions I have taken, I am certain this letter will reach you, I remain, Madame, yours, etc.
“La Princesse de Ligne.”
During these negotiations Hélène was living at Kowalowska in complete retirement. Her mother-in-law’s letter arrived at a moment when it was impossible for her to send any money to Brussels. This woman of the world, accustomed to the most refined luxury, was almost in actual want, and with very natural pride would accept nothing from the Count but the hospitality he had offered her. She wrote to him as follows:—
“Your letter has made me very sad. There is no more question of your return than if you were never coming back. MM. de Ligne will listen to nothing; what can I do? What line of action can I take? What do they want of me? What is their object? They apparently hope that want will make me submit to their will, and imagine they are granting me a favour by shutting me up in a Convent with a pension.[100] But even should they be willing to receive me back into their family, I would never return to them; all is at an end between them and me, and I should even prefer the Convent to the trial of living with people whom I do not love, and who would despise me; the word alone makes me shudder.
“As to the money question, it would be most painful to me to be a burden to anybody in the world; I would sooner live by manual work, and would not hesitate to begin by discarding all my household, and keeping only one servant.
“The few effects I possess, such as books, music, and some pieces of furniture, I no longer consider as my own; you will be good enough to take them into account in the sum I owe you for table expenses, washing, etc.; for, as regards money, I can give you none. I have made a purchase this month, which I should have avoided had I known my affairs were in such a bad state. I spent forty ducats in buying linen to make chemises, for I required some, and it was difficult for me to do without them. I was shown some fine linen, and as it is often difficult to procure, I bought it. If I become a prey to absolute misery, I shall yet have the necessary courage to bear it. You will care as much for me in sackcloth as in silk, and I shall be quite happy. I do not wish even to return into society. I became acquainted early in life with its most brilliant attractions, and soon wearied of them; I shall never get weary of a quiet life, even attended with poverty, if you love me.”
The Princesse Charles was a prey to all kinds of anxiety; her imagination was constantly inventing dangers: “I am far from being reassured,” she wrote to the Count; “on the contrary, it seems to me that each moment increases my anxiety and worry. I was told that on his return from Vienna the Krajczy had gone to Dubus. If you meet him I fear that he will encourage you to separate from me; he will certainly have known MM. de Ligne at Vienna; their cause will have interested him, and he will try to oblige them by urging you to abandon me. This idea tortures me. Answer me directly on this subject. Since Thursday I have been abandoned to the melancholy tenure of my thoughts, and that without any hope of consolation; I am in great dread lest your absence should be taken advantage of to get you to give up all idea of our union; do not ever expect my consent to this. Should it be necessary for your happiness, I am ready to release you from your vows, but nothing will induce me to break those by which I have bound myself to love you always.”
The Princess had received a very short answer to the letter she had sent to the Prince-Bishop. He had not written himself, but had replied through his steward that he would reflect on the subject, and that he refused for the time being to treat with his niece’s delegate. Hélène wrote to the Count, and added:—