of etiquette
led to his death.]

When the royal family was brought back from Varennes to the Tuileries, the
Queen's attendants found the greatest difficulty in making their way to
her apartments; everything had been arranged so that the wardrobe woman,
who had acted as spy, should have the service; and she was to be assisted
in it only by her sister and her sister's daughter.

M. de Gouvion, M. de La Fayette's aide-de-camp, had this woman's portrait
placed at the foot of the staircase which led to the Queen's apartments,
in order that the sentinel should not permit any other women to make their
way in. As soon as the Queen was informed of this contemptible
precaution, she told the King of it, who sent to ascertain the fact. His
Majesty then called for M. de La Fayette, claimed freedom in his
household, and particularly in that of the Queen, and ordered him to send
a woman in, whom no one but himself could confide out of the palace. M. de
La Fayette was obliged to comply.

On the day when the return of the royal family was expected, there were no
carriages in motion in the streets of Paris. Five or six of the Queen's
women, after being refused admittance at all the other gates, went with
one of my sisters to that of the Feuillans, insisting that the sentinel
should admit them. The poissardes attacked them for their boldness in
resisting the order excluding them. One of them seized my sister by the
arm, calling her the slave of the Austrian. "Hear me," said my sister to
her, "I have been attached to the Queen ever since I was fifteen years of
age; she gave me my marriage portion; I served her when she was powerful
and happy. She is now unfortunate. Ought I to abandon her?"--"She is
right," cried the poissardes; "she ought not to abandon her mistress; let
us make an entry for them." They instantly surrounded the sentinel,
forced the passage, and introduced the Queen's women, accompanying them to
the terrace of the Feuillans. One of these furies, whom the slightest
impulse would have driven to tear my sister to pieces, taking her under
her protection, gave her advice by which she might reach the palace in
safety. "But of all things, my dear friend," said she to her, "pull off
that green ribbon sash; it is the color of that D'Artois, whom we will
never forgive."

The measures adopted for guarding the King were rigorous with respect to
the entrance into the palace, and insulting as to his private apartments.
The