"Have you news for me from Vienna, count?" said she, in a voice whose tones were strikingly like those of her mother.
"I bring to your majesty letters of condolence and of congratulation from the empress and the emperor."
"Why, you must be a conjurer, count. Our reign is not twenty-four hours old yet, and you bring us congratulations from Vienna?"
"I will explain, your majesty," said the old count, with a smile. "You remember, that more than a week ago the king lay in a stupor, which, for some hours, was supposed to be death. During his stupor, my courier started for Vienna, and the messenger sent after him, to stop the dispatches, arrived too late. The answers had been sent, and there are the congratulatory letters."
The count handed his papers, and as the queen cast down her beautiful eyes to read the address, she exclaimed, joyfully:
"My mother's handwriting and my brother's!"
She broke the seal of the empress's letter, and her countenance fell.
"Nothing but official papers," said she, sighing and putting them on the table. "I know the contents of Joseph's letter without reading it. Have you no news for me from Vienna? Think of something to tell me from home, dear count."
Count von Mercy cast a stolen glance at the mistress of ceremonies, who, stiff and watchful, stood close by the side of the queen's chair. Marie Antoinette understood the look.
"Madame de Noailles" said she, turning with a smile to address her, "you will not, I hope, think me rude, if I request you to allow me a few moments interview with Count von Mercy. He has something to say to me that is of a strictly confidential nature."