style="font-size:15px;"> The queen's answering smile quite reassured her.
"Go, my good Misery, and send me Leonard."
When she was gone, "The king has been charming," said the queen to Andrée; "he has laughed, and is quite disarmed."
"But does he know, madame?"
"You understand, Andrée, that a woman does not tell falsehoods when she has done no wrong and is the Queen of France."
"Certainly, madame."
"Still, my dear Andrée, it seems we have been wrong – "
"Doubtless, madame, but how?"
"Why, in pitying Madame de la Motte; the king dislikes her, but I confess she pleased me."
"Here is Leonard," said Madame de Misery, returning.
The queen seated herself before her silver-gilt toilet-table, and the celebrated hair-dresser commenced his operations.
She had the most beautiful hair in the world, and was fond of looking at it; Leonard knew this, and therefore with her was always tardy in his movements, that she might have time to admire it.
Marie Antoinette was looking beautiful that morning: she was pleased and happy.
Her hair finished, she turned again to Andrée.
"You have not been scolded," she said; "you are free: besides, they say every one is afraid of you, because, like Minerva, you are too wise."
"I, madame?"
"Yes, you; but, oh, mon Dieu! how happy you are to be unmarried, and, above all, to be content to be so."
Andrée blushed, and tried to smile.
"It is a vow that I have made," said she.
"And which you will keep, beautiful vestal?"
"I hope so."
"Apropos," said the queen, "I remember, that although unmarried, you have a master since yesterday morning."
"A master, madame?"
"Yes, your dear brother; what do you call him? – Philippe, is it not?"
"Yes, madame."
"Has he arrived?"
"He came yesterday."
"And you have not yet seen him? I took you away to Paris, selfish that I was; it was unpardonable."
"Oh, madame! I pardon you willingly, and Philippe also."
"Are you sure?"
"I answer for both of us."
"How is he?"
"As usual, beautiful and good, madame."
"How old is he now?"
"Thirty-two."
"Poor Philippe! do you know that it is fourteen years since I first met him! But I have not seen him now for nine or ten."
"Whenever your majesty pleases to receive him he will be but too happy to assure you that this long absence has not altered the sentiment of respectful devotion which he has ever felt for his queen."
"I will see him at once."
"In a quarter of an hour he will be at your majesty's feet."
Scarcely was Andrée gone, when the queen saw reflected in the glass an arch and laughing face. "My brother D'Artois," cried the queen; "how you frightened me!"
"Good morning, your majesty," said the young prince; "how did your majesty pass the night?"
"Very badly, brother."
"And the morning?"
"Very well."
"That is the most important; I guessed that all had gone right, for I have just met the king, and he was smiling most graciously."
The queen laughed, and he echoed it.
The queen had just cast off her dressing-gown of India muslin, and put on her morning dress, when the door opened and Andrée entered, leading by the hand a handsome man with a brown complexion, noble black eyes, profoundly imbued with melancholy, and a soldier-like carriage. He looked like one of Coypel's or Gainsborough's beautiful portraits.
He was dressed in a dark gray coat, embroidered in silver, a white cravat, and a dark waistcoat; and this rather somber style of dress seemed to suit the manly character of his beauty.
"Your majesty," said Andrée, "here is my brother."
Philippe bowed gravely.
The queen, who had until now been looking at his figure reflected in her mirror, turned round and saluted him. She was beautiful, with that royal beauty which made all around her not only partisans of the throne, but adorers of the woman. She possessed the power of beauty; and, if we may make use of the inversion, the beauty of power. Philippe, seeing her smile, and feeling those limpid eyes, at once soft and proud, fixed upon him, turned pale, and could hardly restrain his emotion.
"It appears, M. de Taverney," said she, "that you pay me your first visit; I thank you for it."
"Your majesty deigns to forget that it is I who should give thanks."
"How many years have passed since we last met, monsieur? Alas! the most beautiful part of our lives."
"For me, madame, but not for your majesty, to whom all days are alike charming."
"You were then pleased with America, M. de Taverney, as you remained there so long?"
"Madame," answered Philippe, "M. de la Fayette, when he left the New World, had need of an officer in whom he could place confidence to take the command of the French auxiliaries. He proposed me, therefore, to General Washington, who accepted me."
"It seems," said the queen, "that this new country sends us home many heroes."
"Your majesty does not mean that for me?" asked Philippe, laughing.
"Why not?" Then turning to the Comte d'Artois, "See, brother," she said; "has not M. de Taverney the look of a hero?"
Philippe, seeing himself thus introduced to the young prince, bowed low. He returned it, and said, "I am most happy to make the acquaintance of such a gentleman. What are your intentions in returning to France, sir?"
"Monseigneur," answered Philippe, "my sister is my first consideration; whatever she wishes, I shall do."
"But she has a father, I believe," said the count.
"Never mind him," said the queen, quickly, "I prefer Andrée under her brother's protection, and he under yours, count. You will take charge of M. de Taverney, will you not?"
The count bowed an assent.
"For, do you know," continued she, "that a very strong link binds
