We have seen Prudhomme astonished that the Queen, having worn-out shoes, should require new ones, and that she should consider it indecent to leave open the doors of her bath and her bed-room. In fact, the National Guard, frightened of the responsibility placed on their shoulders, literally kept the Queen in eyesight, and compelled her to keep open the doors of her bathing and bed-room. Once, the Queen, inspired with a natural feeling of modesty, having drawn the curtains of her bed the man on guard drew them back, for fear that she should escape by the staircase. On another occasion, the King having come to visit her about one in the morning, and having shut the door of the apartment—not of the Queen, but of his wife—the sentinel thrice opened it, saying, “Shut it as often as you like; I shall open it every time that you shut it!” Happily, in this misery, the Queen found a friend. This friend was the Princess de Lamballe whose history is so well known that it is needless for me to touch upon it. She was, however, through all vicissitudes, a faithful and affectionate friend to the Queen. About the commencement of 1791, after the death of Mirabeau, the political horizon became so black that the King and Queen, the Count de Fersen, and Madame Elizabeth, all counselled the Princess to fly to Sardinia. Even the Pope, Pius the Sixth himself, insisted that she should visit Rome, to rejoin the friends of the King, who having raised in the Assembly the famous storm concerning the right of emigration sustained by Mirabeau, had happily crossed the frontier; but she firmly rejected all such proposals. The Duc de Penthièvre who loved her as if she were his daughter, and the Duchess of Orleans, who admired her courage, wished by some means to force her to leave France. The Duc persuaded Louis the Sixteenth to write to the Court at Turin, in order that the King of Sardinia, as head of the family, should interpose his influence to compel the Princess to return to his dominions. Here is the reply of the Princess de Lamballe:— “SIRE AND RESPECTED COUSIN,— “I do not remember that any of our illustrious ancestors of the House of Savoy, before or after the great Charles Emmanuel, of illustrious memory, ever disgraced themselves by an act of treachery. I should do so were I to quit the Court of France at this critical juncture. You will excuse my refusing your truly royal invitation. The shedding of blood, and the madness of the States, alike command that one and all should unite their efforts for the preservation of the King and Queen and the royal family of France. It is impossible to shake my resolution. I have determined, once and for all, never to abandon, at a moment when they are forsaken by their oldest servants, those who have none to look to but me.