CHAPTER XIV.
We must now return for a time to the château of Compiègne, in one of the principal chambers of which, surrounded by a bevy of fair maids, sat Agnes de Meranie, bending her graceful head over an embroidery frame. As far as one might judge from the lively colours upon the ground of white satin, she was engaged in working a coat of arms; and she plied her small fingers busily as if in haste. Her maids also were all fully engaged, each in some occupation which had in a degree a reference to that of the queen. One richly embroidered a sword belt with threads of gold; another wove a golden fringe for the coat of arms; and a third was equally intent in tracing various symbols on a banner.
From what internal emotion it is hard to say--for song is not always a sign of joy--the queen, as she sat at her work, sang, from time to time, some of the verses of one of the cançons of the day, in a sweet low voice, and in that sort of indifferent tone, which seemed to show, that while her hands were busy with the embroidery, and her voice was as mechanically modulating the song, that nobler part of the mind, which seems to dwell more in the heart than the brain, and whose thoughts are feelings, was busy with very different matter.