“Why, in pitying Madame de la Motte; the king dislikes her, but I confess she pleased me.”
“Here is Leonard,” said Madame de Misery, returning.
The queen seated herself before her silver-gilt toilet-table, and the celebrated hair-dresser commenced his operations.
She had the most beautiful hair in the world, and was fond of looking at it; Leonard knew this, and therefore with her was always tardy in his movements, that she might have time to admire it.
Marie Antoinette was looking beautiful that morning: she was pleased and happy.
Her hair finished, she turned again to Andrée.
“You have not been scolded,” she said; “you are free: besides, they say every one is afraid of you, because, like Minerva, you are too wise.”
“I, madame?”
“Yes, you; but, oh, mon Dieu! how happy you are to be unmarried, and, above all, to be content to be so.”
Andrée blushed, and tried to smile.