he was too diplomatic not to ask
pardon for her blunder, promise to contradict it when her mistress
could listen, and express her satisfaction that it was not the Chevalier
Narcisse--for such things were not pleasant, as she justly observed, in
families.

About noon on the Tuesday the Louvre was unusually tranquil. All the
world had gone forth to a procession to Notre Dame, headed by the King
and all the royal family, to offer thanksgiving for the deliverance of
the country from the atrocious conspiracy of the Huguenots. Eustacie's
chamber was freed from the bustle of all the maids of honour arraying
themselves, and adjusting curls, feathers, ruffs and jewels; and such
relief as she was capable of experiencing she felt in the quiet.

Veronique hoped she would sleep, and watched like a dragon to guard
against any disturbance, springing out with upraised finger when a soft
gliding step and rustling of brocade was heard. 'Does she sleep?' said
a low voice; and Veronique, in the pale thin face with tear-swollen eyes
and light yellow hair, recognized the young Queen. 'My good girl,' said
Elisabeth, with almost a beseeching gesture, 'let me see her. I do not
know when again I may be able.'

Veronique stood aside, with the lowest possible of curtseys, just as
her mistress with a feeble, weary voice murmured, 'Oh, make them let me
alone!'

'My poor, poor child,' said the Queen, bending over Eustacie, while her
brimming eyes let the tears fall fast, 'I will not disturb you long, but
I could not help it.'

'Her Majesty!' exclaimed Eustacie, opening wide her eyes in amazement.

'My dear, suffer me here a little moment,' said the meek Elisabeth,
seating herself so as to bring her face near to Eustacie's; 'I could not
rest till I had seen how it was with you and wept with you.'

'Ah, Madame, you can weep,' said Eustacie slowly, looking at the Queen's
heavy tearful eyes almost with wonder; 'but I do not weep because I am
dying, and that is better.'

'My dear, my dear, do not so speak!' exclaimed the gentle but rather
dull Queen.

'Is it wrong? Nay, so much the better--then I shall be with HIM,' said
Eustacie in the same feeble dreamy manner, as if she did not understand
herself, but a little roused by seeing she had shocked her visitor. 'I
would not be wicked. He was all bright goodness and truth: but his does
not seem to be goodness that brings to heaven, and I do not want to be
in the heaven of these cruel false men--I t