They clustered round, as eager as a set of schoolgirls, over Anne’s dresses.  Happily even the extreme of fashion had not then become ungraceful.

“Her Majesty will not have the loose drapery that folks used to wear,” said Hester Bridgeman.

“No,” said Pauline; “it was all very well for those who could dispose it with an artless negligence, but for some I could name, it was as though they had tumbled it on with a hay-fork and had their hair tousled by being tickled in the hay.”

“Now we have the tight bodice with plenty of muslin and lace, the gown open below to show the petticoat,” said Hester; “and to my mind it is more decorous.”

“Decorum was not the vogue then,” laughed Pauline, “perhaps it will be now.  Oh, what lovely lace! real Flanders, on my word!  Where did you get it, Miss Woodford?”

“It was my mother’s.”

“And this?  Why, ’tis old French point, you should hang it to your sleeves.”

“My Lady Archfield gave it to me in case I should need it.”

“Ah!  I see you have good friends and are a person of some condition,” put in Hester Bridgeman.  “I shall be happy to consort with you.  Let us—­”

Anne courtesied, and at the moment a bell was heard, Pauline at once crossed herself and fell on her knees before the small shrine with a figure of the Blessed Virgin, and Hester, breaking off her words, followed her example; but Jane Humphreys stood twisting the corner of her apron.

In a very short time, almost before Anne had recovered from her bewilderment, the other two were up and chattering again.

“You are not a Catholic?” demanded Miss Bridgeman.

“I was bred in the Church,” said Anne.

“And you the King’s godchild!” exclaimed Pauline.  “But we shall soon amend that and make a convert of you like Miss Bridgeman there.”

Anne shook her head, but was glad to ask, “And what means the bell that is ringing now?”

“That is the supper bell.  It rings just after the Angelus,” said Hester.  “No, it is not ours.  The great folks, Lady Powys, Lady Strickland, and the rest sup first.  We have the dishes after them, with Nurses Labadie and Royer and the rest—­no bad ones either.  They are allowed five dishes and two bottles of wine apiece, and they always leave plenty for us, and it is served hot too.”

The preparations for going down to the second table now absorbed the party.

As Hester said, the fare at this second table was not to be despised.  It was a formal meal shared with the two nurses and the two pages of the backstairs.  Not the lads usually associated with the term, but men of mature age, and of gentle, though not noble, birth and breeding; and there were likewise the attendants of the King and Queen of the same grade, such as Mr. Labadie, the King’s valet, some English, but besides these, Dusian, the Queen’s French page, and Signer and Signora Turini, who had come with her from Modena, Pere Giverlai, her confessor, and another priest.  Pere Giverlai said grace, and the conversation went on briskly between the elders, the younger ones being supposed to hold their peace.