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 added, as the drapery again closed over the portal, “dry your tears; I owe you some recompense for all that you have suffered, and I will not be tardy in my requital.”

At this instant some one scratched upon the door of the royal closet.

“Again!” cried the Queen indignantly.  “See who waits, Madame du Fargis.”

The Countess proceeded to draw aside the tapestry.  “Madame,” she said, as she retired a pace or two with a profound curtsey, “his Majesty the King.”

“Ha!” exclaimed the Regent, starting from her seat, and advancing towards the young sovereign, whom she tenderly embraced, “your visit could not have been more welcome or better-timed, my son.  The death of M. de Fervaques has created a vacancy which must be at once filled, and I have a marshal’s commission for you to sign.”

The wife of Concini gazed eagerly into the face of her royal mistress.  Marie smiled.  “Go, Madame,” she said affectionately, “and bid the Marquis d’Ancre hasten here upon the instant to kiss the gracious hand from which he is about to receive a marshal’s baton.”

Leonora knelt before the startled King, who suffered her in silence to perform the same ceremony; and then radiant with happiness she pressed the jewelled fingers of the Queen to her quivering lips.  “And hark you, Leonora,” pursued Marie, “cause Concini to be announced by his new title when he seeks admission here.  This will at once put an end to a host of rivalries which are now unavailing.”

Madame d’Ancre hastily withdrew; but as she passed through the apartments of the Queen she remarked that the antechamber was already thronged with a crowd of courtiers, who had been attracted thither by curiosity; while they, in their turn, did not fail to detect in the flushed cheek and flashing eye of the Marquise the indications of some new triumph.  Little, however, were they prepared for its extent; and when