For some time the poor young king sat in profound discouragement. Finally, with a long, weary sigh, he raised his head, and began to reflect again. At last he solved he difficult problem. "Ah!—I have it now," thought he, heartily relieved. "I will go to Madame Adelaide. She was my mother's dearest friend and my father's favorite sister. She shall be my counsellor. I believe that, with her assistance, I may succeed in carrying out the policy dictated by my father."
He gathered up his papers, and went into the anteroom, where he ordered a page to go to Madame Adelaide, and say that the king would visit her if she could conveniently receive him. [Footnote: Madame Adelaide, an anti-Austrian, and, therefore, one of the queen's enemies was, throughout his whole reign, the counsellor of her nephew.]
CHAPTER XCV.
FRANCE AND AUSTRIA.
While the king was closeted with Madame Adelaide, the queen, on her side, was receiving her royal household. This ceremony over, she had gladly retired to the privacy of her own room, there to restore order to her confused mind.
But her rest was not of long duration, for presently came Monsieur de
Campan to announce the visit of the Austrian ambassador.
The queen received him most cordially, rising from her seat, and advancing a few steps to meet him. Madame de Noailles, who, conforming to etiquette, had entered with Monsieur de Campan, and was to remain in the room during the interview, was shocked at the queen, and frowned visibly.
Marie Antoinette paid no attention to her. She reached her hand to Count von Mercy, and allowed him to press it to his lips.
Again Madame de Noailles was horror-stricken. The kissing of the queen's hand was a state ceremonial, and was inadmissible in private.
The queen had forgotten the existence of her mistress of ceremonies. With sparkling eyes and beaming smiles she greeted the old count, who, to her, was the representative of all that she loved—her mother, her sisters, and her native country.