My own mother, step-father, and half-brothers have visited as well, only a few weeks ago, which coincided beautifully with the ball that we had promised to host for the surrounding countryside. It was a brilliant success, and cost me many hours of preparation (and not a little sleep), but was so well-received and subsequently talked of that I think we shall soon be pressed to host another.
Christine has settled fretfully into her married life in Sweden, and begs for a visit from me, which I may do if circumstances favor in the new year. I wait with some trepidation for the announcement of the Marquise de Menars' hopes for a child, thinking that young Clementine cannot be too long without one, but at the moment none is expected. Nor, indeed, are our hopes to be fulfilled this year. Thierry, knowing that at my age bearing a child is fraught with dangers, declares that he would rather we remain childless than risk my life; but I cannot help but wish that our good fortune might extend a little longer. He is, alas, not even fond of his own nephews and nieces, and so there is little urgency to the matter for him.
Madame Elizabeth very kindly continues to write to me, and urges my return to Versailles, but at present we are so content that I think only a royal command would compel me to leave Auvergne. Of course, there is word that Thierry may soon be issued a charge, but what that will entail is entirely a mystery to me. A diplomatic posting, perhaps? His travels and use in the last war were enough to earn him a title, it is impossible to say to what other purposes he may soon be put. I selfishly wish that it will not require that we be parted again.
Olympe, Marquise de Mercoeur
et Comtesse d'Auvergne