When the Comtesse de Custine died, after a short illness, her husband was away with his regiment, and did not arrive in time to see her alive. During the first days of his despair, while looking over her papers, he came upon a packet of letters which proved beyond all doubt the infamous treachery of the Vicomte, who had made his pretended love for Mme. de Genlis a shield to hide his real passion for his brother’s wife, which had been the horror and torment of her life, and which she had dreaded to reveal to her husband, whose temper was violent when aroused.
For some time Félicité had been wishing to obtain a place at court, and it had been suggested that she should be placed in the household of the comtesse de Provence, whose marriage with the second fils de France was about to take place.
But her aunt, Mme. de Montesson, was most anxious that she should enter the service of the Duc de Chartres, who was the eldest son of the Duc d’Orléans, and very much opposed to Mme. de Montesson’s designs upon him.
It appeared after a time that the post in the household of the Comtesse de Provence was not attainable, and in the first disappointment of this refusal, Mme. de Montesson told her niece that she had only to ask and she would receive an appointment at the Palais Royal.
Mme. de Custine, whom she consulted, was absolutely opposed to it, and after urging the strongest reasons against it, added that it was evidently her duty to stay and take care of Mme. de Puisieux as long as she lived.
However, she allowed herself to be persuaded: she went with her aunt constantly to Raincy, the country place just bought by the Duc d’Orléans; she was attracted by the gentle, charming Duchesse de Chartres, she listened to the representations of the advantages she might secure for her children, and at length she laid the case before Mme. de Puisieux, who, unselfishly putting away the consideration of her own grief at their separation, and thinking only of the advantages to Félicité and her family, advised her to accept the position offered her.
Félicité seems, however, to have always considered that she made a mistake, or, indeed, as she says, committed a fault, one of the greatest in her life, by doing so; if so, it does not appear to be a surprising one, as the plan certainly would have offered strong attractions and inducements even to a woman less vain and ambitious than she was, but it is certain that it caused many calamities and exercised an evil influence for which no advantages could compensate. She left the hôtel de Puisieux before Madame was up in the morning, as she dreaded the parting, and as her apartment in the Palais Royal was not ready she was lodged in one that had belonged to the Regent, with a door into the rue de Richelieu. She nearly had an accident before she got out of the carriage, and felt low-spirited and unhappy, wishing herself back in her own room at the hôtel de Puisieux as she looked round the luxurious boudoir lined with mirrors, which she did not like at all, and which seemed associated with the orgies of the Regency, of which it had been the scene.
She felt that she had exchanged security, the protection of a beautiful and well-ordered home, and the society of those she loved and respected, for dependence and danger.
FOOTNOTE:
[114] In an old German town is a large and ancient house belonging to one of the principal families of the place. It contains a beautiful ball-room in the Venetian style, white and gold, with numbers of mirrors. But it is never used, being supposed to be unlucky, as the only occasions on which people have danced there were two: first, when Marie Antoinette passed through the town to be married to the Dauphin, when the room, which had been decorated on purpose for her, was only just finished in time, the Italian workmen leaving the ball-room as she entered it. The second time it was used was by Marie Louise, her niece, as she was on her way to marry the Emperor Napoleon. I have myself seen the room and been told the story.—Note by Author.