Based on old letters, memoranda, sere leaves from family trees and scrapbooks, Frances Leggett who is called ""France"" in this memoir reconstructs the story of a marriage--her mother's and her stepfather's, a wealthy wholesale grocer--her second, his first in middle years. However, both Betty Leggett and her sister Joe (prominent here) rejected the provincialism of America; Joe had an Eastern Swami in constant attendance; Betty, even though just remarried five years, took off for Paris--its ""romantic eminence""--""oh la""--social and cultural contacts and Sole a la Marguery. . . . The marriage did not survive (nor does the book) some of Betty Leggett's idees de grandeur and primly cosseted notions: ""Women were virtuous by nature--that is--women such as she--there were plenty of the other kind to pander to the non-virtuous propensities of men."" An epitaph to Victorian virtue? or an envoi to ennui? (The photographs, earnest countenances, befrocked and befurred, are more entertaining.) Otiose.