ed gaiety, and
extending her tiny hand to him. "Monsieur and I are old friends, your
Royal Highness."

"Ah, then," said the Prince, this time very graciously, "you are doubly
welcome, Monsieur."

"There is someone else I would crave permission to present to your Royal
Highness," here interposed Lord Grenville.

"Ah! who is it?" asked the Prince.

"Madame la Comtesse de Tournay de Basserive and her family, who have but
recently come from France."

"By all means!--They are among the lucky ones then!"

Lord Grenville turned in search of the Comtesse, who sat at the further
end of the room.

"Lud love me!" whispered his Royal Highness to Marguerite, as soon as he
had caught sight of the rigid figure of the old lady; "Lud love me! she
looks very virtuous and very melancholy."

"Faith, your Royal Highness," she rejoined with a smile, "virtue is like
precious odours, most fragrant when it is crushed."

"Virtue, alas!" sighed the Prince, "is mostly unbecoming to your
charming sex, Madame."

"Madame la Comtesse de Tournay de Basserive," said Lord Grenville,
introducing the lady.

"This is a pleasure, Madame; my royal father, as you know, is ever glad
to welcome those of your compatriots whom France has driven from her
shores."

"Your Royal Highness is ever gracious," replied the Comtesse with
becoming dignity. Then, indicating her daughter, who stood timidly by
her side: "My daughter Suzanne, Monseigneur," she said.

"Ah! charming!--charming!" said the Prince, "and now allow me, Comtesse,
to introduce you, Lady Blakeney, who honours us with her friendship. You
and she will have much to say to one another, I vow. Every compatriot of
Lady Blakeney's is doubly welcome for her sake . . . her friends are our
friends . . . her enemies, the enemies of England."

Marguerite's blue eyes had twinkled with merriment at this gracious
speech from her exalted friend. The Comtesse de Tournay, who lately had
so flagrantly insulted her, was here receiving a public lesson, at
which Marguerite could not help but rejoice. But the Comtesse, for whom
respect of royalty amounted almost to a religion, was too well-schooled
in courtly etiquette to show the slightest sign of embarrassment, as the
two ladies curtsied ceremoniously to one another.

"His Royal Highness is ever gracious, Madame," said Marguerite,
demurely, and with a wealth of mischief in her twinkling blue eyes,
"but there is no need for his kind of mediation. . . . Your