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My little girl is two months old. She is called Jeanne-Athenais, and has for godmother and godfather my mother, and an old grand-uncle of Louis'.
As soon as I possibly can, I shall start for my visit to Chantepleurs, since you are not afraid of a nursing mother. Your godson can say your name now; he calls it _Matoumer_, for he can't say _c_ properly. You will be quite delighted with him. He has got all his teeth, and eats meat now like a big boy; he is all over the place, trotting about like a little mouse; but I watch him all the time with anxious eyes, and it makes me miserable that I cannot keep him by me when I am laid up. The time is more than usually long with me, as the doctors consider some special precautions necessary. Alas! my child, habit does not inure one to child-bearing. There are the same old discomforts and misgivings. However (don't show this to Felipe), this little girl takes after me, and she may yet cut out your Armand.