When the Madame and the Mademoiselle returned to Court, I was fourteen. Julie asked after me, as she remembered her nurslings. The Mademoiselle, on discovering me afflicted, but that I was of good character, and that I was still clever with a needle, summoned me to the honor of working on her trousseau. In consideration of our childhood, she took me to her heart, graciously protected me, and allowed me to be the one to sew her into her finery. And I came to love her and stitch a prayer into each loop of lace at wrist or bodice, that she would fare well in her engagement.
When my benefactor was married to the Prince of Cleves, the trousseau was still in preparation. Sixty girls continued to work on gowns, camisoles, capes, lingerie, linens, and bedding.
The Princess sought to keep me with her at all times, for her own intimate garments--and I was allowed among her ladies. In this way, I came to understand that, although the trousseau was not yet finished, my Princess had already lost her heart to one other than her husband. My tears and my failing eyesight confounded, and it would seem I could not sew and would be overcome. Hers is a generous and tender soul, and the Duke of Nemours has no peer.