She took the dasher, while Dame Tillery moved her stool back and looked on. A few moments the rise and fall of the dasher was slow and cautious; but after a little, the impulsive character of the queen broke into action. A shower of snowy drops flashed upward, the lid was knocked one side and then the other, frothing cream dashed tumultuously against the sides of the churn, and everything was in commotion again. “There, you see! You see nothing can be more obstinate. I have been following your method perfectly, but it comes to this.” “Nay,” answered the dame, resting an elbow on each knee, as a broad, genial smile swept her face, “it is because you try too much. Slow and sure—slow and sure is a good maxim, both on the farm and at court.” “Hush! we have no such thing as court here, good woman,” whispered a tall, dark lady, who had just come in. She was in a rustic dress, like the rest; but Dame Tillery instantly recognized her as a lady of the royal household. “Dame Capet has no knowledge of the queen, remember that.” Marie Antoinette had relinquished her hold of the dasher. “It takes away my breath,” she said, moving toward a window and looking out. Dame Tillery drew the chum between her knees again, and went on with her monotonous work. Marguerite came and leaned upon her chair; she was very pale, and her eyes shone with suppressed anxiety. “Tell me,” she whispered, “is this lady, in truth, the queen?” “In truth she is,” answered the dame, suspending the motion of her dasher a moment. “And if I speak to her?” “Speak to her! Ah! now I remember, it was something more than a wish to see how royal ladies can amuse themselves, that made you so anxious to come.” “It was life or death—nothing less.” “So serious as that? I am sorry for it. Of all places in the world, this is the last for such things. The queen and her ladies came here to escape them.” “I see. It is almost hopeless; but I must speak.” “Not yet—wait a little. I will watch for an opportunity. Go to the other window yonder, and tell me what they are all looking at.” Marguerite went quietly to the window, and saw a drove of cows coming up from their pasture in the Park, beautiful creatures, with coats like velvet, and coal-black horns curving inward like cimeters. A group of young men, wearing blouses and ribbons upon their hats, were driving the cows, all laughing, chatting, and making the air riotous with mirth. Marguerite saw one or two of these young men go up to the window, around which the inmates of the room were grouped. “It is of no use inviting us out,” said Marie Antoinette to a young man who protested, with grave earnestness, that the cows suffered for want of milking. “We have our own duties to perform first; so, my Lord de ——, I beg ten thousand pardons, my gentle herdsman; you must watch and wait a little longer.” “But how long, Dame Capet? My companions are getting impatient of their idleness.”