We are now at the end of our time in Riom with Maman, her husband, and Andre with his wife and new baby daughter. It seems that our isolation in pleasant Auvergne is likewise at an end, as I have been recalled to court to attend to Mme Elisabeth. I had thought to beg more time with my own child, but my husband was much against it. So it is that in a mere few weeks we must pack up the household, find lodgings for Aurelie and M-, (my husband), and resign oneself to committing my daughter to the care of her father and nurse.
Aurelie's nurse is named Aimee, and was recommended to us through an acquaintance of Maman's, so I do not yet feel that I know her well. The baby seems fond of her, but then she is enamored of all who meet her gaze at present. The child is active, with a bright smile, and even brighter eyes of blue with long lashes. Many who meet her do exclaim that she strongly resembles me; a fact which displeases M- though he is loathe to admit it. I wonder if his insistence that I take I do not delay in taking up this post is to separate us more. Admittedly, he also makes much of the penury he feels we suffer under, and is relieved to know that my position comes with somewhat generous compensation.
I must send a letter to Elizabeth R- to inform her that I will be returning to Paris sooner than thought, and hope to visit with her and my god-daughter. Of course, I also thrill at the thought of introducing Aurelie to my dear friend whose counsel has often been of such use. It will be good to hear from her the news of late, for I am terribly ill-informed at present.
So many tasks call that I will cut this short. Alas, I had thought there would be more time in these happy days of seclusion; but then are there ever enough?
-Olympe
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