"His Majesty now quitted chair and dressing-gown; stood up before the fire; and, after getting on the rest of his clothing, which, on account of Czarina Anne's death [readers remember that], was of violet or mourning color, he had the powder-mantle thrown round him, and sat down at the Toilette to have his hair frizzled. The Toilette, a table with white cover shoved into the middle of the room, had on it a mirror, a powder-knife, and"--no mortal cares what. "The King," what all mortals note, as they do the heavenly omens, "is somewhat talky; speaks sometimes with the Dutch Ambassador, sometimes with the Pope's Nuncio, who seems a jocose kind of gentleman; sometimes with different French Lords, and at last with the Cardinal Fleury also,--to whom, however, he does not look particularly gracious,"--not particularly this time. These are the omens; happy who can read them!--Majesty then did his morning-prayer, assisted only by the common Almoners-in-waiting (Cardinal took no hand, much less any other); Majesty knelt before his bed, and finished the business 'in less than six seconds.' After which mankind can ebb out to the Anteroom again; pay their devoir to the Queen's Majesty, which all do; or wait for the Transit to Morning Chapel, and see Mesdames of France and the others flitting past in their sedans. "Queen's Majesty was already altogether dressed," says Geusau, almost as if with some disappointment; "all in black; a most affable courteous Majesty; stands conversing with the Russian Ambassador, with the Dutch ditto, with the Ladies about her, and at last, 'in a friendly and merry tone,' with old Cardinal Fleury. Her Ladies, when the Queen spoke with them, showed no constraint at all; leant loosely with their arms on the fire-screens, and took things easy. Mesdames of France"--Geusau saw Mesdames. Poor little souls, they are the LOQUE, the COCHON (Rag, Pig, so Papa would call them, dear Papa), who become tragically visible again in the Revolution time:--all blooming young children as yet (Queen's Majesty some thirty-seven gone), and little dreaming what lies fifty years ahead! King Louis's career of extraneous gallantries, which ended in the Parc-aux-Cerfs, is now just beginning: think of that too; and of her Majesty's fine behavior under it; so affable, so patient, silent, now and always!--"In a little while, their Majesties go along the Great Gallery to Chapel;" whither the Protestant mind cannot with comfort accompany. [Busching, _Beitrage,_ ii. 59-78.]