icate the authority of the Government, that the archbishop,
after undergoing a few weeks' imprisonment, was banished from the
country.

“What particular instance of the duchesse's spirit do you allude to,
comtesse?” asked the general. “I was in Savoy at the time, and only
heard the barren facts of the outrage committed on the venerable
prelate.”

“Her husband was then in the cabinet, and of course implicated in this
offence; but to show that she at least had no participation in it,
she ordered out the old family coach with four horses, her footmen
in their state liveries, and drove to the citadel, taking the most
frequented streets on her way, to offer her sympathy and condolence to
monseigneur. There she is, madame, nearly opposite to us.”

I had scarcely taken a survey of this modern Griselda,[23] when a stir
was perceptible, a title was announced, and everybody rose. The owner
of a name which will be written in history as having held a post in
the reign of Victor Emmanuel's predecessor, similar to that occupied
in France by a Belle Gabrielle, or a La Vallière, entered the saloon; a
tall and commanding figure, with more than the remains of great beauty
in her face. Until she took a seat, none resumed theirs.

Queenlike she sat, and with queenlike affability greeted those who
advanced to speak to her, or addressed those on either hand, and talked
about charitable societies of which she was the patroness with the
bishop, and the last political intelligence with the ex-ambassador;
complimented the lady of the house on the beauty of her children, and
congratulated the comtesse on an approaching marriage in her family,
graciously announcing her intention to call and see the bride's
_corbeille_.

It was not the fact of her being there which surprised me, but the
deference, the obsequiousness shown towards her. Truly, as a specimen
of the moral code of the strictest circles, the most severely religious
of the high society of Turin, it was sufficiently diverting. But no one
present had a glimmering of this