Perhaps one reason why Agnes’s presence was so grateful to the taciturn and indolent monarch was that she dressed so superbly, and yet so tastefully. The Queen and her ladies were subject to strict Court sartorial conventions, but the Demoiselle de Fromenteau knew no such restrictions. One day “_la Belle des Belles_,” as everybody called her, appeared as “Cleopatra,” another as “Diana,” and a third as “Venus,” and so on. Her costumes were of the richest and the thinnest. Her abundant beautiful brown hair, too, she dressed not only for the _hennin à la mode_,--bunched over the ears or gathered into a chignon,--but _à la calotte galonnée_: frizzed out, or _en simple résille_--in a net, or _à tours_, thrown round and round her head in massive coils. Agnes was short of stature, but she made up for this by wearing Venetian _zilve_, or high pattens, beautifully embroidered with silk and pearls. Her _decollétage_ was never vulgar or immodest, like that of the King’s mother, but her well-formed bust was covered lightly by white lace or thinnest gauze. A string of pearls usually embraced her well-shaped throat. One article of clothing was peculiarly her own invention. Whilst the ladies of the Court, and even Queen Marie herself, wore serge chemises, hers were of fine Flemish linen. Very many of her tasteful fancies were taken up by the ladies about her, and Queen Marie herself followed suit by discarding the daily use of the _hennin_ and the stiff and heavy fur borders of her kirtle. She, too, had hair as fair as that of Agnes, and she was privately quite as proud of it as was her _Dame d’Honneur_, for so “_la Belle des Belles_” had become. [Illustration: KING RENÉ AND HIS COURT From a Miniature by King René in his “Breviary.” Musée de l’Arsenal. Paris _To face page 194_] A pretty story is told of “_la Belle des Belles_” with respect to the melancholy moods of King Charles. One day Charles was more than usually depressed, and, try how she would, Queen Marie could not cheer him; so she sent for Agnes, who at once ran to her mistress, and, then entering the King’s presence, knelt at his feet and fondled his knees. “Sire,” she said, “when I was a very little girl a soothsayer told my mother that I should be the plaything of a King who would be the most valiant in Europe. I thought that your Majesty was such an one, but I find that I am mistaken. Perhaps I ought to have sought the Court of Henry rather than that of Charles!” The King frowned, but the bantering words had struck home, and he raised himself and Agnes, and, kissing her affectionately, replied: “No, my sweet, you have no need to seek Henry. I am your valiant King!”