"
"Sire," sighed Marie Antoinette, "I hope for nothing more; but,"
added she, with still firmer voice, "I also fear nothing more. The
worst may break over me--it shall find me armed!"
The side-door now opened, and Madame de Campan entered.
"Your majesty," said she, bowing low, "a great number of ladies from
the Faubourg St. Germain are in the small reception-room. They wish
to testily their devotion to your majesty."
"I will receive them at once," cried Marie Antoinette, with an
almost joyful tone. "Ah, only see, husband, the consolations which
misfortune brings. These ladies of the Faubourg St. Germain formerly
cut me; they could not forget that I was an Austrian. To-day they
feel that I am the Queen of France, and that I belong to them.
Pardon me, sire, for leaving you."
She hastened away with a rapid step. The king looked after her with
an expression of pain. "Poor queen," he whispered to himself, "how
much she is misjudged, how wrongly she is calumniated! And I cannot
change it, and must let it be."
He sank with a deep sigh, which seemed much like a groan, into an
arm-chair, and was lost in painful recollections. A gentle touch on
his hand, which rested on the side-arm of the chair, restored him to
consciousness. Before him stood the dauphin, and looked gravely and
thoughtfully out of his large blue eyes up into his father's face.
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