Well, the worst seems to be over, and that on many fronts. Cousin Godefroy has resumed his post as Grand Chamberlain, with hardly any fuss from the Rohans; who I expect are busy licking their wounds as well. My lawyer friend, Jean Baptiste Gerbier, is in the process of having Franconville demolished so that it may be rebuilt in a newer style in the Spring, and evidently F- has left town for the time being.
The war is at last over as well, at least the British and the American Colonists (I suppose, just Americans now) have signed a treaty to that effect. We are still negotiating our treaty with England, but I expect it won't be long now. Perhaps then Thierry's case can be examined and he will be able to come home.
A package arrived from him yesterday containing an early birthday present of a pair of blue silk stockings and wrapped inside of them some paste buckles. I do not know how I shall spend my birthday this year, and may mark the occasion quietly at home. I am no longer of an age that I wish to boast about.
My young friend, Clementine de Rodez, on the other hand, has much about which to be happy. Her mother has consented to the Marquis de Menars suit, with a little gentle pressure from myself, and Clementine is consequently beaming like the sun. The marriage will take place in the spring, and owes it's occurrence rather more to the absence of a formerly-interested suitor, than it does to the insistence of any other party. Really I am not much surprised, Dukes will marry up if they can, and Clementine's dowry is not such a great temptation.
Tonight my friend Elizabeth is holding a costume ball, but I had not the will find a new costume for it, and will instead merely put on a domino over something pretty. She at least promises that some interesting characters will be in attendance, and I look forward to finding out who she means.