Again that laugh rang out louder and more prolonged, until tears absolutely leaped down the queen’s cheek, and so sparkled in her eyes that she was obliged to use her handkerchief. Dame Tillery drew slowly back, and her broad face clouded. She began to comprehend that the laughter was for her. “Is it so strange,” she said, with something like dignity, “that a woman of the people should ask to be mistress of the queen’s cows?” Marie Antoinette arose, and continued wiping the tears from her laughing eyes. Dame Tillery’s face grew more and more stormy. She cast the purse at Madame Campan’s feet, and was turning away in hot anger, when Marie Antoinette’s voice arrested her. “Strange, dame—no, it is not strange. Only the title; but, after all, it is a good one, and expresses the duties well. So, henceforth, consider yourself as belonging to the court, and Mistress of the Dairy at the little Trianon. But all positions have a salary attached, so take up the purse, it contains yours for the next half year.” Dame Tillery stooped with some difficulty, and lifted the purse from Madame Campan’s feet. Her broad face was rosy with happiness as she turned it on the queen. “The people shall hear of this—they know Dame Tillery. When she speaks they listen and believe. The queen has enemies among the people of Versailles—they shall disappear.” When the good woman ended this speech, tears stood in her eyes. She turned to go away, but saw the page lingering a little way off, and was reminded of her promise. CHAPTER XLV. ONE VIRTUE LEFT. “Madame, your highness.” The queen, who had been somewhat moved by Dame Tillery’s earnestness, met her return with a pleasant, questioning look. “Your highness, before coming here I made a promise. Yonder page, who has something that he wishes to lay before your highness, besought me to let him follow my poor footsteps to the royal presence. Bethinking me of the great good which chanced to the young demoiselle who was made so happy yesterday, simply because she came under Dame Tillery’s wing, I could but give this young man his opportunity.” The good-humor with which Marie Antoinette had received the woman, who took such extraordinary liberties, was not yet exhausted. She glanced toward the page, and her practised eye discovered at once that he must belong to some powerful family. She made an assenting gesture with her hand, which the page comprehended even better than Dame Tillery, and he advanced at once. Marie Antoinette’s keen eyes were bent on his face as he came clearly out of the shadows. Somewhere, it seemed to her, that she had seen it before, but she could not recognize the colors that ought to have distinguished him as the follower of any great family well known to the court, and was a little puzzled to guess who he was.