"The queen leaned on the arm of the king, the dauphin and dauphiness followed; Madame Elizabeth, that saint on earth if ever there was one, headed the ladies of the court. All rose at our entrance; we were received with one acclamation. The sight is still before me. I had seen all that was brilliant in the courts of Europe. But this moment effaced them all. The most splendid _salle_ on earth, crowded with uniforms, all swords drawn and waving in the light, all countenances turned on the king, all one shout of triumph, loyalty, and joy! Alas! alas! was it to be the last beat of the national heart? Alas! alas! was it to be the last flash of the splendour of France; the dazzling illumination of the _catafalque_ of the Bourbons; the bright burst of flame from the funeral pile of the monarchy?" Her voice sank into silence; for the first time unbroken throughout the room. At length, to relieve the pause, Mordecai expressed something of a hope that the royal family slept in peace, for that one night at least. "I really cannot tell," briskly said the fair narrator. "But I know that the ladies of the court did not. As the king retired, and we remained in the opera boxes to amuse ourselves a little with the display, we heard, to our astonishment, a proposal that the tables should be cleared away, and the ladies invited to a dance upon the spot. The proposal was instantly followed by the officers climbing into the boxes, and by our tearing up our pocket-handkerchiefs to make them cockades. We descended, and danced loyally till daybreak." "With nothing less than field-officers, I hope?" said a superb cavalier, with a superb smile. "I hope so too," laughed the lady; "though really I can answer for nothing but that the cotillon was excessively gay--that our partners, if not the best dancers upon earth--I always honour the _garde du corps_,"--and she bowed to the captain; "were the most obliged persons possible." "Ah, but roturiers, madame!" said a stiff old duke, with a scorn worthy of ten generations of ribands of St Louis. "True; it was most melancholy, when one comes to reflect upon it," said the lady, with an elevation of her alabaster shoulders to the very tips of her ears. "But on that evening roturiers were in demand--popularity was every thing; the _bourgeoisie_ of Versailles were polished by their friction against the _garde du corps_. And I am sure, that if the same experiment, distressing as it might be, were tried in every opera salon in the provinces, and we had longer dances and shorter harangues, more fiddles and fewer patriots, all would be well again in our 'belle France.'" "But--your news, monsieur le capitaine," was the demand all round the table.