whispering: "A word in your ear, Clyde. You may have it if you play your
cards right and are persistent in importunity."

"No, your Highness. I ask for nothing save favor to my cousin," I
replied.

"She is like to have enough of that and to spare, without asking, if she
is half as beautiful as she is said to be," returned his Grace.

"Of that your Highness may now be your own judge," I returned. "Here she
comes."

At that moment Frances entered on the arm of the Mother of the Maids, and
the duke, catching sight of her, exclaimed:--

"God have pity on the other women! Half has not been told, baron. There
is no beauty at court compared to hers. Earl? You may be a duke!"

While Frances and the Mother were making their way across the room to pay
their respects to the duke and the duchess, a buzz of admiration could be
heard on every hand, and Mary whispered to me behind her fan:--

"If the king were unmarried, I would wager all I have that your cousin
would be our queen within a month."

Count Grammont, who was standing behind me, leaned forward and whispered,
"Your cousin, baron?"

"Yes, count," I answered.

"Mon Dieu!" he returned, shrugging his shoulders. "You will soon be a
duke. We may not call her the queen of hearts, for already we have one,
but surely she is the duchess of hearts. I wish I might present her in
Paris. Ah Dieu! She would make quickly my peace with my king!"

Poor Grammont's one object in life was that his peace might be made with
his king. He lived only in the hope of a recall to Versailles.

Frances made a graceful courtesy, as she kissed their Highness's hands,
and, when the brief ceremony of presentation to the duke was over, turned
to Mary and me, glad to have a moment's respite beside us. She said
nothing, but I could see that for the moment the gorgeous scene about
us had bewildered her. The vast mouldings of gold, the frescoed cupids,
nymphs and goddesses, the wonderful paintings, the brilliant tapestries,
all fairly shone in the light of a thousand wax candles, while the
polished floor of many-colored woods was a mirror under her feet,
reflecting all this beauty.

The powdered and rouged courtiers, arrayed in silks, gold lace and
jewels, seemed more like creatures from a land of phantasy than beings of
flesh and blood. The men with their great curled wigs, their plumed,
bejewelled hats and glittering gold swords, seemed to have stepped from
the pages of a wonderful picture-boo