‘Are we going?’

‘Yes, Mademoiselle,’ was the reply.  ’The King, the Queen, and Monsieur, are waiting for you in the court, and here is a letter from Monsieur.’

She put it aside, saying she did not want Monsieur’s orders to make her obey those of the Queen, but he begged her to read it.  She glanced at it, and then declared that she would be ready immediately.  M. de Comminges departed, and then began the greatest bustle imaginable, everybody dressing at once in the greatest confusion, putting on each other’s things by mistake, and Mademoiselle talking—­ talking through all.

They were afraid to leave her behind, she said, lest she should have headed a party.  No doubt M. le Prince dreaded her influence, and so did the Queen.  They had made her father issue his commands without warning lest she should disobey.

In fact she had the greatest desire to disobey, only she did not quite venture, and we her ladies had no notion what we were to do, whether to stay or go, while I was in great anxiety as to what they might have done with my boy.

Somehow or other we all found ourselves in the court of the Louvre, strongly lighted by flambeaux, and by the windows of the building.  There stood a row of carriages; Mademoiselle called for hers, but it was not forthcoming, and M. de Comminges, bowing low, offered her his own; but another gentleman came up and handed her into the royal one, where already were the King and Queen, the two Princesses of Conde, the Prince of Conti, and a lady.

I heard Mademoiselle asserting her right to one of the best seats, and then declaring that she yielded ’as the young must give place to the old,’ a little cut at the Princess Dowager of Conde.  She bade M. de Fiesque follow with her carriage and properties, and we were left in the most wonderful confusion in that dark court, the carriages moving away one after another, the mounted servants carrying torches, and the guards trampling and clinking behind them; servants, gentlemen, and ladies running about wildly, some of the women crying and wringing their hands.  Among these was Madame de Fiesque, who was of a timid nature, and was frightened out of her wits at the notion of having to follow, whither she did not even know, while I was equally wild, though I hope I did not make quite so much noise, about my son.

One of the gentlemen at last came and spoke to us, and told us that the King and Queen were gone to St. Germain.  It had all been determined upon for some time past (as soon in fact as the Queen knew that the Prince of Conde would support her, and that the troops were near enough to be of use), and this night had been chosen because she could get off more easily in a time of revelry.  Monsieur had known it all the evening, but had been afraid to tell his daughter because of ‘her ideas,’ which meant that he was by no means sure that she might choose to obey, unless she were taken by surprise, but might want to represent the House of Orleans at Paris.  The Queen of England was not gone; and, as to M. le Marquis de Nidemerle—–­