She had watched, poor child, until the minutes seemed turning into hours, until her eyes grew dim, and her heart faint; for one moment hope grew strong in her bosom; the next a pang of dread would seize upon her, and she longed to flee away and hide herself from the disappointment which seemed sure of coming. As she sat looking wearily through the window, the landlady came into the room once or twice, and, standing close by her, looked through the upper panes into the street, as if in expectation of some one. Marguerite lifted her eyes to this woman’s face anxious for sympathy, for it was a sister of Dame Doudel who kept the house. But the good woman was that moment filled with anxiety on her own account. “Ah! here he comes a third time, and all for nothing!” exclaimed the woman, excitedly. “As if little hens, with wings and bosoms like snow, could be picked up in a minute. I dare say the queen thinks such things are hatched full-grown. Good morning, monsieur. Good morning once again! No better news!” “What, nothing yet, and her majesty so impatient?” “Ah! you know it sometimes happens that nature will have her own way in spite of the queen.” “Then nature is full of rank treason,” answered the man, who stepped across the threshold, and threw himself into a seat where he could stare at Marguerite more conveniently. “Your daughter, dame, I suppose, and a demoiselle worth looking at. Where have you kept her till now?” “We were talking about hens, monsieur, not about daughters; but you are mistaken, I have no child—though this pretty creature does remind me of a niece who is in her grave. Do not blush, child, for she was good as well as beautiful.” “And this one is beautiful, let her be good or not,” muttered the man, who wore a royal livery, and seemed to assume great authority thereat. Marguerite turned her face away, and looked out of the window more earnestly than ever; for she heard the remark, and those bold, searching eyes annoyed her. “Well, monsieur, step this way,” said the woman. “No, I will wait here,” answered the man, crossing his feet on the floor, and stretching himself into an easy position. “But it is no use to wait; the thing you want cannot be found in the whole town. I have sent to the market in Paris, and among the farmers in the country. Perhaps one will come in, but it may not be for a week.” The man changed his position a little and laughed. “Oh! I prefer to wait awhile,” he answered. “Then mademoiselle will, perhaps, walk upstairs?” said the woman. “Other windows than this overlook the street.” Marguerite arose, blushing deeply, and cast a grateful look on the landlady who was so kindly attempting to shield her from this man’s impertinent admiration. “Pardon, I would not incommode any one for the world, so will take myself off at once. But you have not yet divined my whole business. I was ordered to summon the good dame herself to the little palace.” “What, me? No, no! There is some mistake.”