“Because she is even more pessimistic about the results of to-day’s work than yourself, Mr. Morris, and has shut herself up in Paris, refusing to be present at the opening of the States-General even as a spectator.  She portends all sorts of disasters to France, but for the life of me I can’t see what can happen without the King’s authority, and surely so good a king will let no harm happen to his country.  As for myself, I could bless the States-General for having furnished so gala an occasion!  Paris has been deadly stupid for months with all this talk of politics and elections and constitutions going on.  I am glad it is all over and we have reached the beginning of the end.  Is it not a magnificent spectacle?” she asked.

“’Tis so, truly,” assented Mr. Morris, with a curious smile, and leaning over the balustrade to get a better view of the street.

Versailles was indeed resplendent on that beautiful morning of the 4th of May, in honor of the procession and religious services to be held as a sort of prelude to the formal opening of the States-General the following day.  From the Church of Our Lady to the Church of Saint Louis, where M. de la Farre, Archeveque of Nancy, was to celebrate mass, the streets through which the procession was to pass were one mass of silken banners and the richest stuffs depending from every window, every balcony.  Crown tapestries lined the way in double row, and flowers in profusion were strewn along the streets.  Vast throngs surged backward and forward, held in check by the soldiers of the splendid Maison du Roi and the Swiss troops, while every balcony, every window, every roof-top, every possible place of vantage was filled to overflowing with eager spectators.  As the morning sun struck upon the magnificent decorations, on the ladies and cavaliers, as brilliantly arrayed as though for the opera or ball, on the gorgeous uniforms of the Guards, the scene was one of indescribable splendor and color.

A sudden silence fell upon the vast concourse of people as Mr. Morris leaned over the balcony, and in an instant the head of the procession came into view.  In front were borne the banners of the Church of Our, Lady and Saint Louis, followed by the parish clergy, and then in two close ranks walked the five hundred deputies of the tiers etat in their sombre black garments and three-cornered hats.  The silence which had so suddenly descended upon the great company was as suddenly broken at sight of the tiers, and a deafening shout saluted them.  This, in turn, was quelled, and a curious quiet reigned again as the deputies from the nobles made their appearance in their rich dress, with cloak gold-faced, white silk stockings, and beplumed hat.

“You would have to walk with the tiers were you of the procession, Monsieur Calvert,” said Madame de St. Andre, mischievously, glancing from the young man’s sober habit to the brilliant dress of the nobles as they filed past.