It was good sport to hear Sir Andrew Macniven discourse on the sight, declaring that the ladies looked next door to angels, and kenned it full well too, and that he marvelled what their gudemen would have said to see them make a raree show of themselves to all the loons in Paris!

The streets soon became as quiet as they ever were, and we could go about as usual, except when we had warning of any special cause for disturbance.  We were anxious to know how poor little Madame d’Aubepine was getting on, and, to our surprise, we found her tolerably cheerful.  In truth, she had really tamed the Croquelebois!  As she said afterwards in her little pathetic tone, so truly French, when they both so truly loved Monsieur le Comte (wretch that he was) how could they differ?  You see he was not present to cause jealousies, and when Madame Croquelebois found that Cecile never blamed him or murmured she began to be uneasy at his neglect and unkindness.

Though, of course, at that moment he was out of reach, being in the army that was blockading us.  Not that we should ever have found out that we were blockaded, if we could have got any letters from any one, except for the scarcity of firewood.  My mother wanted much to get to our own Queen, but the approaches to the Louvre were watched lest she should communicate with the Regent; and we were cut off from her till M. Darpent gave his word for us, and obtained for us a pass.  And, oh! it was a sad sight to see the great courts and long galleries left all dreary and empty.  It made me think of Whitehall and of Windsor, though we little knew that at that very time there was worse there than even desolation.

And when at last we reached our poor Queen’s apartments, there was not a spark of fire in them.  She was a guest there.  She had no money, and all the wood had either been used up or pillaged; and there we found her, wrapped in a great fur cloak, sitting by the bed where was the little Lady Henrietta.

When my mother cried out with grief that the child should be ill, the poor Queen replied with that good-humoured laugh with which she met all the inconveniences that concerned herself alone:  ’Oh, no, Madame, not ill, only cold!  We cannot get any firewood, and so bed is the safest place for my little maid, who cares not if she can have her mother to play with her!  Here is a new playfellow for thee, ma mie.  Sweet Nan will sit by thee, and make thee sport, while I talk to her mother.’

So the child made the big four-post bed, all curtained round, into a fortress, and I besieged her there, till she screamed with glee, while the Queen took my mother’s arm, and they paced the rooms together, sadly discussing the times and the utter lack of news from home, when the last tidings had been most alarming.  Poor lady!  I think it was a comfort to her, for she loved my mother; but we could not but grieve to see her in such a plight.  As we went home we planned that we would carry a faggot in the carriage