Those even who sought for mere beauty of feature, would have perceived that her eyes were quick and fine; that her skin was of the most delicate whiteness, except where it was disfigured by the use of rouge; and that her small mouth might have served as model to a statuary, especially while her lips arched with a warm smile of pleasure and affection, as advancing into the apartment, she pressed Madame de Beaumont to her bosom, who on her part, bending low, received the embrace of Anne of Austria with the humble deference of a respectful subject towards the condescension of their sovereign. "Once more restored to me, my dear Madame de Beaumont!" said the Queen. "His Eminence of Richelieu does indeed give me back one of the best of my friends--And this is your Pauline."--She added, turning to Mademoiselle de Beaumont, "You were but young, my fair Demoiselle, when last I saw you. You have grown up a lovely flower from a noble root; but truly you will never be spoiled by splendour at our court." As she spoke, her mind seemed naturally to return to other days, and her eye fixed intently on the ground, as if engaged in tracing out the plan of her past existence, running over all the lines of sorrow, danger and disappointed hope, till the task became too bitter, and she turned to the Marchioness with one of those long deep sighs, that almost always follow a review of the days gone by, forming a sort of epitaph to the dreams, the wishes, and the joys, that once were dear, and are now no more. "When you met me, De Beaumont," said the Queen, "with the proud Duke of Guise on the banks of the Bidasoa--quitting the kingdom of my father, and entering the kingdom of my husband--with an army for my escort, and princes kneeling at my feet--little, little did ever you or I think, that Anne of Austria, the wife of a great king, and daughter of a long line of monarchs, would, in after years, be forced to dwell at St. Germain, without guards, without court, without attendants, but such as the Cardinal de Richelieu chooses to allow her.--The Cardinal de Richelieu!" she proceeded thoughtfully; "the servant of my husband!--but no less the master of his master, and the king of his king."