"He must have been frightened, Papa," said Anne reflectively. "I could not have read so long as that. When the words have many letters it is tiring, especially if the book is English. Do you speak English, Mesdames?" For all their converse hitherto had naturally been conducted in French, and Anne had forgotten that Elspeth had been addressed in her native tongue. "A little," said Mme. de Chaulnes, smiling. "But you, child, speak it as easily as French, no doubt." "I speak English to Grandpapa, and French to Papa," replied the linguist. "Did my Papa have a pony when he was little?" he next inquired. "I do not remember," said the old lady. "Have you one, Anne?" "Not yet," responded Anne-Hilarion. "Grandpapa has promised me one when I shall be seven." "Your Grandpapa is very good to you, I think," commented Mlle. Angèle. "Yes, indeed," agreed the child. "Papa says that he spoils me." "I expect he does," said Mme. de Chaulnes, smiling at him over the top of her tortoiseshell-rimmed spectacles. A little silence fell. The two old ladies knitted on; the grey cat stretched herself. There hung over the mantelpiece a head of the late Louis XVI., an engraving of no particular merit, having the similitude of a bust, and Mlle. Angèle, looking up, found their visitor studying that full, petulant profile. "You know who that is, of course, mon petit? The King--the late King, whose head they cut off." Anne-Hilarion nodded. "M. le Chevalier has a picture of the Queen too, on a snuff-box. He showed it to me one day." Mlle. Angèle rose and took something from the mantelpiece. It was a miniature of a little boy in general appearance not unlike Anne himself, but fairer, with falling curls and a deep ruffle. "Do you know who that is, child?" she asked, in a voice gone suddenly sad. Anne did know. "He is in prison, the little King, and can't get out," he replied gravely. "'_Domine, salvum fac regem!_' M. l'Abbé taught me to say that--it is Latin," he added, not without pride. "You have learned friends, little one," observed Mme. de Chaulnes kindly. "Yes," replied the child, with interest. "M. l'Abbé knows a great many things. He teaches French also--but that is because he has not much money, I think. And M. le Vicomte de Soucy, he is very poor; Grandpapa thinks that he often goes without his dinner. But he is very proud too; he will not dine at our house often." "He might make some money by selling his snuff-box with the picture of the Queen," suggested Mme. de Chaulnes, with rather a sad smile. "But I dare say he would sooner starve than do that." "Oh, but it is not _he_ who has the snuff-box," corrected Anne-Hilarion. "It is M. le Chevalier de la Vireville." "But no doubt M. le Chevalier is poor too--like all the rest of us," said the old lady, sighing.