The panegyric was equal to the occasion. I was delighted. What eloquence! It was the Abbé Baunard, the gentle author of the Book of the First Communion and of the Perseverance, who pronounced it.
This quiet city is in a state of agitation not to be imagined; the streets are encumbered with strangers, and there is noise enough to split one’s head. Last year there was a general emulation to point out to me the minutest details of the fête; to-day Marcella was the heroine. I like to see her, radiant, enchanted, eager, while the delicate Anna clings to my arm, her large eyes sparkling with pleasure. We are so numerous that we divide, in order to avoid in some degree
the looks of curiosity. My dear Italians are much disputed for.
The twins care no more to be here. Brittany has for them an invincible attraction. Happy souls, who are about to live their fairest day! Pray for them and for us, dear Kate!
May 10, 1868.
Dearest, the sovereigns are come and gone. Did I tell you about the Concours Régional? Every day I take the little people thither; there is a superb flower-show, orange-trees worthy of Campania, etc.
M. Bougaud pronounced a discourse upon agriculture, and with admirable fitness quoted our Lamartine:
“Objets inanimés, avez-vous donc une âme,
Qui s’attache à notre âme et la force d’aimer?”[84]
But I shall see you soon—a happiness worth all the rest, dear Kate. Shall I own to you that I regret Orleans because of Sainte-Croix, Notre Dame des Miracles, and our poor, besides so many things one feels but cannot express in words?