s in me, and loves me."

"Compose yourself, Leonora," said the Queen-mother affectionately; "your
feeble frame is unequal to these bursts of passion. Come hither, child,
and pillow your aching head upon my knees, as you were wont to do long,
long ago, when we sang together the beloved songs of our fair Florence,
or indulged in day-dreams which were never destined to be realized. Let
Madame de Conti beware in her turn: higher heads than hers have been
brought low; and from this day I will teach a bitter lesson to her and
to her kinsmen. I have borne much, but I am still a Medicis; I can be as
firm as Catherine, although I shall endeavour to act with greater
justice, and to be in all things worthy of the name I bear."

"Ha, Madame!" exclaimed the favourite, "you have already proved that
however others may endeavour to forget that you are the widow of Henry
the Great the fact is ever present to yourself." And as she spoke,
Leonora buried her face in the lap of her royal foster-sister, while her
long black hair, which had become unfastened by the energy of her
movements, fell to the floor and covered her like a pall.

Little did either the Queen or the Marquise at that moment anticipate
how soon a deeper and a denser pall would replace those luxuriant and
gleaming tresses! Happy was it for both that no prophetic glance into
the future darkened the joy of that bright hour of reconciliation!

Meanwhile the Princesse de Conti, who dreaded the effect of this same
reconciliation upon herself and her family, privately despatched a
messenger to the Prince de Conde to inform him that Madame d'Ancre was
at that very time closeted with the Regent, and that he must forthwith
devise some method of terminating so dangerous a conference. M. de Conde
was for a moment aghast; and on reflection could adopt no better
expedient than that of prevailing upon M. de Breves, the governor of the
Duc d'Orleans, to suggest to the young Prince that he should proceed to
the apartments of his royal mother, in order to pay his respects to her
Majesty. Monsieur obeyed; and Leonora was still seated on a cushion at
the feet of her foster-sister, with her pale face pillowed upon her
knees, when Madame de Conti threw open the door of the royal closet, and
announced the Prince.

"Let Monseigneur await my pleasure without," exclaimed Marie angrily. "I
understand the motive of this breach of etiquette, and shall reward it
as it deserves. _Leonora cara_" she