I asked where she was buried.

"Was it in the cemetery at Brussels, Miss
Smallwood, or was it at Laaken?"

Miss Smallwood was not certain, but she
thought Laaken.

"I can learn by writing to the Drakes, if
you wish it, dear Miss Eleanor," Miss
Thoroton proposed.

I thanked her, but said I could obtain
direct information from Sir Edward Singleton
—I did not think there was that goodness
and generosity in him. Poor Alice! to
live and die so friendless! oh, if I had but
known!

ROMANTIC BREACH OF PROMISE.

IN fifteen hundred and thirty-eight, when
France happened to be at peace; and nothing
was talked of at Court, say the memoir-
writers, but festivals, tournaments, carnivals,
masquerades, and so forth, one incident
occurred to supply the town-folks with talk.
This was no other than the action for breach
of promise of marriage, brought by the
Marquis Jehan-Loys, of Saluces, against
Madame Philippes de Montespedon, widow
of Marshal Monte-Jan, who had been governing
Piedmont. Some of the details of this
case are singular enough to deserve a
narrative on their own account: others are
amusing chiefly because of their odd
similarity with sentimental passages in the lives
of our own country-folks, from time to time
revealed to us in courts of law.

Marshal Monte-Jan died in Piedmont,
leaving no children. His wife was instantly
besieged with offers of marriage by various
great lords of that state—a circumstance at
which we are requested by the chroniclers
"not to marvel." For, Madame Philippes
was a very respectable and virtuous lady,
adorned with great beauty, and in the
flower of her youth; she possessed, moreover,
in addition to all these perfections,
sixty thousand livres of revenue in her own
right, besides considerable expectations. First
among the suitors, who followed so closely on
the funeral, was the above-mentioned
Marquis of Saluces, who seems to have been a
foolish fellow, and who was certainly most
scandalously treated. The narrator was on
the lady's side, but he naïvely states very
damaging facts. Madame Philippes feigned
to accept the marquis's service, because it
would be convenient to make use of his
escort on the way back to France, whither
he was going by express order of the king.
Despite of her riches, the fair widow seems
to have been accidentally without ready cash.
She allowed her suitor to pay her expenses
all the way from Turin to Paris; and these
expenses were by no means light. All the
household of her late husband, besides her
own, accompanied her. The marquis thought
he had the game in his own hands, and
assumed the tone of a master by anticipation
—intimated that the gentlemen, servants,
and officers of the deceased should be
dismissed, item half those of the lady herself,
especially the women—for she had besides
dames and demoiselles, femmes de chambre,
and others for different kinds of work, as
many as fifteen or sixteen. But Madame
Philippes was so prudent that she never, it
is alleged, allowed a word to escape that
would bind her; and yet so clever that she
obtained all the assistance she wanted.

The marquis, as soon as they got upon
French ground, had ordered (Italian that he
was) all his people to be on the watch to
prevent any communication being brought
from a rival; for, he did not doubt that such
a rare pearl would be eagerly sought after.
Yet, in spite of all precautions, as soon as
the party arrived at Lyons, a courier came
from M. de Vieilleville, a relative of the lady,
and delivered his letters so secretly that no
one ever suspected their existence. These
letters contained the information that the
court had heard of the proposed marriage
with the Marquis of Saluces, and believed
the couple were coming to Paris for the
wedding. The news had much pleased the
king, because he had always heard that love
bound a man to a country more than
anything, and thought that the marquis, having
become a Frenchman by this alliance, would
be more faithful ever afterwards. This was
a sentimentality not to have been expected
from Francis the First. However, said the
correspondent, "I think you are going to
marry more for the good of your own
country than your own good—if what I hear
be true: but I cannot yet believe it; for it
is not likely that you would, after having
been so happy in your first marriage, enter
on another so hurriedly without even warning
your friends."

Madame de Monte-Jan in reply wrote a
very characteristic letter. Among other
things, she said: " I would rather die than
do anything of which I might have reason to
repent; yet I will confess that the extreme
necessity in which the death of the late
marshal left me, almost made me trip in
words. But heaven has so helped me, that
here I am arrived in France, without being
affianced, promised, or contracted to living
man. ... I am very much surprised the
king should think I am going to bring him
servants at the expense of my good fortune,
and against my tastes. I will never be an
Italian; and, if I were, the last man I
should choose to make me so would be the
Marquis Jehan-Loys—for reasons which I
will give you when we meet, but, especially,
because he is not, and never will be, a true
Frenchman."

But in spite of this declaration, the beautiful
Madame Philippes remained at Lyons,
under the charge of this marquis, who spent
twelve days in making the preparations,
intending to arrive at court in magnificent