And he declared that the Princess could not be found; he had looked for her everywhere.

Possibly, if somebody had displeased her, she had shut herself up in her room and gone to bed, leaving her guests to amuse themselves in all freedom in whatever way they might choose.
"Why, but here she is!" suddenly said Massot.
Rosemonde was indeed there, in the vestibule, watching the door as if she expected somebody.

Short, slight, and strange rather than pretty, with her delicate face, her sea-green eyes, her small quivering nose, her rather large and over-ruddy mouth, which was parted so that one could see her superb teeth, she that day wore a sky-blue gown spangled with silver; and she had silver bracelets on her arms and a silver circlet in her pale brown hair, which rained down in curls and frizzy, straggling locks as though waving in a perpetual breeze.
"Oh! whatever you desire, Monsieur l'Abbe," she said to Pierre as soon as she knew his business.

"If they don't take your old man in at our asylum, send him to me, I'll take him, I will; I will sleep him somewhere here." Still, she remained disturbed, and continually glanced towards the door.
And on the priest asking if Baroness Duvillard had yet arrived, "Why no!" she cried, "and I am much surprised at it.

She is to bring her son and daughter.