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THE VEILED BRIDE.—PART II.
(Concluded from p. 111.)
The following are copies of the letters alluded to, as containing the sequel of the foregoing story.
CLARA TO MADAME DE LIMEUIL.
My dearest Mother,
I am in the greatest agitation, and scarcely able to write; I will, however, endeavour to compose myself; and indeed, what better means of regaining my wonted peace of mind can I seek, than writing to thee, tenderest of parents?
I promised in my last letter to give you an account of that celebrated beauty, the consort of our young Dauphin, Mary Queen of Scots; but how attempt to describe her charms, when all our famous poets, even Ronsard and Jodelle, confess their incapacity to do them justice; and indeed, at this moment of reconciliation, after having been on the brink of losing her friendship for ever, at this moment, when I still behold the smile of forgiveness playing round her lips, I feel less capable than ever of such a task: however, I must relate to you all that has lately occurred.
The fair Queen Mary, who treats me with all the friendship of a relative, and even calls me her little sister, frequently comes to pay me a visit, and is accustomed, whenever she has occasion to appear in some new or foreign costume, to come and dress in my apartment, in order to have my opinion upon it. Among the crowd of admirers who gather round the royal flower of Scotland, is a certain nobleman of the name of Chastelard; an infatuated, foppish creature, who on all occasions pursues and annoys her with the expressions of his ridiculous passion. The fair Dauphiness, affable to all, speaks now and then to him, and occasionally condescends to accept his poetical homage, although in her heart she despises and detests him. I said his poetical homage, though it is well known that the verses are purchased by him from the pen of Ronsard. As he observed that the Dauphiness distinguished me by her friendship above all the young ladies of the court, he cultivated my acquaintance, and at last ventured to solicit me to intercede in his behalf with my royal friend. You may well suppose that I gave him a distinct denial, but the coxcomb carried his presumption so far, that on one occasion, when I accompanied the fair Mary to one of the Queen’s private circles, where we both went attired in the Scottish garb, he introduced himself secretly in a closet, and at the very moment when, on our return, we had begun to take off our dresses, he stepped forward, and throwing himself at the feet of the Queen, declared his passion. She sternly commanded him to retire instantly. How beautiful did she appear in this moment of offended majesty!—Frightened to death, and confused as I was, I scarcely could convince her of my innocence, for she insisted that he could not possibly have been introduced without my knowledge. I was most sensibly hurt at her suspicion, and at the loss of her friendship; but the worst was yet to come. The following day there was to be a small
