“Our Lady forbid that I should say anything against a clemency as fearless as it was just. I did but speak of the unreasonableness of the people,” said Madame Campan, glancing anxiously at the queen’s face, which was again overclouded. The king must have had some apprehensions when he hesitated, she thought; but in my impulsive gratitude I forgot everything but the fact that this poor man was unjustly incarcerated, and that his child had flung herself between me and death. Well I am glad, only these ideas were in my mind; too much caution makes cowards of us all. I, also, might have hesitated, for these times harden one’s heart fearfully. Still, with those wistful eyes looking into mine, I must have done it—and I am glad it is done. When she came to this conclusion in her mind, Marie Antoinette lifted her head from its bent attitude, and looked around smiling. “I think we have escaped our ladies,” she said, with a gleam of the sparkling mischief in her eyes which Madame Campan knew well, but had seen so rarely of late. “Oh! here they are coming, I can see their dresses through the branches. We must take up our state now, my Campan,” she said with a sigh, “there is no escaping it.” “But it is not the ladies,” said Campan, shading her eyes and looking through the trees; “but—but——Why, your highness, it is the woman who taught us how to churn.” “What, my dame of the dairy! I had forgotten all about her,” answered the queen, laughing. “Well, I am glad, she finds us here. But who is this coming with her?” “A page; but I do not know the livery,” answered Madame Campan. “He lingers behind, now that he has seen your highness. Shall the woman approach?” “Oh, yes! We shall find amusement in her, if nothing more. You have my purse; it will be needed, for, after all, the woman has done us a service; but for her we should never have met that young girl, or the man who took that fierce animal by the horns. Let her approach.” Madame Campan laughed with the faintest, mellow chuckle in the world, spite of the high sense of etiquette that reigned at court. In fact, she could not help it; for Dame Tillery was approaching toward them, her face all smiles, her dress in a flutter of gorgeous colors, her closed fan held in the middle like a baton, and her body swaying forward now and then in a ponderous salutation, which was repeated over and over again as she approached the queen. Marie Antoinette had too keen a sense of the ridiculous to think of reprimanding her lady; in fact, she put up one hand, and gave a little cough behind it to break up an impulse to laugh, which was almost irrepressible with that woman in sight; but as Dame Tillery drew close to her, a gentle gravity covered this feeling, and she kindly bade the dame draw near.