blood royal and the ladies-in-waiting to Her Majesty, on the other by the procession of princes, dukes, and gentlemen of the King’s household.  It was close on one o’clock when the last gilded coach, the last splendid rider, followed by the rabble, who closed in and pushed on behind to the Church of Saint Louis, had passed beneath Madame de Tesse’s balcony.  Some of her guests, having billets for the church reserved for them, entered their carriages and drove thither; the others, being weary with the long wait and excitement of the morning, accepted their hostess’s invitation to breakfast, content to hear later of the celebration of mass in the Church of Saint Louis.  Mr. Jefferson, Mr. Morris, and Calvert were of this party, and, after having promised to be at Versailles early the next morning and to stay for the night at Madame de Tesse’s so as to accompany the ladies to the King’s reception, they set off for Paris toward four o’clock in the afternoon.  As they were about leaving, Beaufort, who had attended mass, came in, tired and gloomy-looking, and told them that Monseigneur de la Farre had preached a political sermon which the deputies had the bad taste and hardihood to applaud in church and in the presence of His Majesty.

“How dare they so insult the King?” said Madame de St. Andre, pale with anger, to Calvert, who had come up to bid her adieu.  “By the way, Mr. Jefferson tells me he is to present you to their Majesties to-morrow evening,” she went on, recovering her composure and smiling somewhat.  “I should like to see how an American salutes a king.”

“Madame,” said Mr. Calvert, quietly, “you forget that I have made my bow to General Washington.”

It was not much past six o’clock the next morning when Mr. Calvert and Mr. Jefferson called, in the latter’s carriage, for Mr. Morris in the rue de Richelieu, and once more set out for Versailles.  As on the preceding day, the road was thronged with coaches, all making their way to the temporary capital.  Madame de Flahaut (to whom Mr. Morris bowed very low, though he looked a little piqued when he saw Monsieur de Curt beside her) flashed by in her carriage as they neared Versailles, and a little later Madame de St. Andre, accompanied by Madame de Chastellux and Beaufort passed them, bowing and waving to the three gentlemen.

“If it were possible, I should say she looks more beautiful to-day than yesterday, eh, Ned?” said Mr. Morris, looking after Madame de St. Andre, and then giving Calvert a quizzical glance, under which the young man blushed hotly.

“By the way, I overheard your parting conversation yesterday, and I think you rather got the best of the haughty beauty,” he went on, laughing.  “I am not sure but that the unruffled serenity of your manner before the ladies advances you more in their estimation than does Mr. Jefferson’s evident devotion to them all or my impartial compliments and gallantry.  But beware!  Madame de St. Andre is no woman if she does not try to retaliate for that retort of yours.”