use to
you or to His Royal Highness."

"True, signorina; you have been faithful and aided me to the best of
your power in my extremity, but while you will not embrace the true
faith I cannot keep you about the person of my son as he becomes
more intelligent. Therefore it may be well that you should leave
us, until such time as we shall be recalled to our kingdom, when I
hope to reward you more suitably. You loved my son, and he loved
you--perhaps you would like to bid him farewell."

For this Anne was very grateful, and the Prince was sent for by the
mother, who was too proud of him to miss any opportunity of
exhibiting him to an experienced mother and grandmother like the
vicomtesse. He was a year old, and had become a very beautiful
child, with large dark eyes like his mother's, and when Mrs. Labadie
carried him in, he held out his arms to Anne with a cry of glad
recognition that made her feel that if she could have been allowed
the charge of him she could hardly have borne to part with him. And
when the final leave-taking came, the Queen made his little hand
present her with a little gold locket, containing his soft hair,
with a J in seed pearls outside, in memory, said Mary Beatrice, of
that night beneath the church wall.

"Ah, yes, you had your moment of fear, but we were all in terror,
and you hushed him well."

Thus with another kiss to the white hand, returned on her own
forehead, ended Anne Jacobina's Court life. Never would she be
Jacobina again--always Anne or sweet Nancy! It was refreshing to be
so called, when Charles Archfield let the name slip out, then
blushed and apologised, while she begged him to resume it, which he
was now far too correct to do in public. Noemi quite readily
adopted it.

"I am tired of fine French names," she said: "an English voice is
quite refreshing; and do you call me Naomi, not Noemi. I did not
mind it so much at first, because my father sometimes called me so,
after his good old mother, who was bred a Huguenot, but it is like
the first step towards home to hear Naomi--Little Omy, as my
brothers used to shout over the stairs."

That was a happy fortnight. Madame de Bellaise said it would be a
shame to let Anne have spent a half year in France and have seen
nothing, so she took the party to the theatre, where they saw the
Cid with extreme delight. She regretted that the season was so far
advanced that the winter representations of Esther, at St. Cyr by
the yo