This long confession has tired me.  I shall finish it the day after to-morrow; I have to spend to-morrow in the country.

October 20th.

I will tell you now the steps I have taken to insure secrecy.  My object has been to ward off every possible incitement to my ever-wakeful jealousy, in imitation of the Italian princess, who, like a lioness rushing on her prey, carried it off to some Swiss town to devour in peace.  And I confide my plans to you because I have another favor to beg; namely, that you will respect our solitude and never come to see us uninvited.

Two years ago I purchased a small property overlooking the ponds of Ville d’Avray, on the road to Versailles.  It consists of twenty acres of meadow land, the skirts of a wood, and a fine fruit garden.  Below the meadows the land has been excavated so as to make a lakelet of about three acres in extent, with a charming little island in the middle.  The small valley is shut in by two graceful, thickly-wooded slopes, where rise delicious springs that water my park by means of channels cleverly disposed by my architect.  Finally, they fall into the royal ponds, glimpses of which can be seen here and there, gleaming in the distance.  My little park has been admirably laid out by the architect, who has surrounded it by hedges, walls, or ha-has, according to the lie of the land, so that no possible point of view may be lost.

A chalet has been built for me half-way up the hillside, with a charming exposure, having the woods of the Ronce on either side, and in front a grassy slope running down to the lake.  Externally the chalet is an exact copy of those which are so much admired by travelers on the road from Sion to Brieg, and which fascinated me when I was returning from Italy.  The internal decorations will bear comparison with those of the most celebrated buildings of the kind.

A hundred paces from this rustic dwelling stands a charming and ornamental house, communicating with it by a subterranean passage.  This contains the kitchen, and other servants’ rooms, stables, and coach-houses.  Of all this series of brick buildings, the facade alone is seen, graceful in its simplicity, against a background of shrubbery.  Another building serves to lodge the gardeners and masks the entrance to the orchards and kitchen-gardens.

The entrance gate to the property is so hidden in the wall dividing the park from the wood as almost to defy detection.  The plantations, already well grown, will, in two or three years, completely hide the buildings, so that, except in winter, when the trees are bare, no trace of habitation will appear to the outside world, save only the smoke visible from the neighboring hills.

The surroundings of my chalet have been modeled on what is called the King’s Garden at Versailles, but it has an outlook on my lakelet and island.  The hills on every side display their abundant foliage—­those splendid trees for which your new civil list has so well cared.  My gardeners have orders to cultivate new sweet-scented flowers to any extent, and no others, so that our home will be a fragrant emerald.  The chalet, adorned with a wild vine which covers the roof, is literally embedded in climbing plants of all kinds—­hops, clematis, jasmine, azalea, copaea.  It will be a sharp eye which can descry our windows!