taining of the company—were silent, fairly overpowered by intense curiosity; and the rest were tired to death.
All were rejoiced when the Queen rose, and, pleading extreme fatigue, entreated her host's permission to retire. Francesca attended her to her chamber, received the most flattering thanks and compliments on her reception, but was not permitted to remain.
The Queen embraced her, saying, "If we may judge of the exertion by the effect, we are sure our young hostess must need rest. We lay our royal commands upon her, that she take it as soon as possible."
Francesca expressed her deep sense of her Grace's kind consideration, and left the chamber; but rest was the farthest thing in the world from her thoughts. She was impatient to speak to the Comtesse de Soissons, for the ties of an old friendship are not easily broken; and her very sight brought back a thousand remembrances of their joyful childhood, and their once confiding youth, which effectually pleaded the cause of reconciliation.
With her first touch at the door of the dressing-room it was opened. Marie seemed to have divined the intended visit,—the one felt that she was
