In the same letter she says: "The Queen commended my clothes."

In the reign of Louis XV. the English borrowed all their fashions from France. The beautiful Austrian, Marie Antoinette, came in a blaze of splendour to charm and astonish every one, and the loveliest ladies of her Court, headed by her friend the Princess de Lamballe, vied with her in inaugurating a reign of costume which was to have been "roses, roses all the way." Alas, however, thorns made themselves felt only too soon. In her early days the Queen seemed to have no care save that noble lover of hers and her dressmaker; and she studied the minor details of the etiquette of her Court so assiduously that we have the amusing history of her disrobing, surrounded by a bevy of ladies, each taking their turn in handing their royal mistress her chemise.

Marie Antoinette's delicate beauty called for pale colours, and green and pink and puce were amongst the favoured tones, the last mentioned taking its name from no more attractive source than the back of a flea. Her earlier dresses displayed stiff pointed bodices with stomachers, held with little tied bows of velvet, and paniers bunched liberally on the hips to show the under-dress of lace, bordered with flounces, headed and festooned with roses. The décolletage was square, and the elbow sleeves had frills of lace.

MARIE ANTOINETTE.

The paniers grew daily in size, and evoked the inevitable denunciation which waits punctually upon the heels of any favourite of fashion. Marie Antoinette varied her corsets to suit her bodices, therein showing much wisdom, since obviously the short-waisted bodice asks beneath it a stay totally different from that needed beneath a bodice which is cut in a long point in front. Her fichus were as elaborate as dainty, and the method of their adjustment varied in half-a-dozen different ways—they would be crossed over the bust and tied at the back, or tucked into the waistband, or fastened high on the bust with bunches of ribbons or flowers.

A PEIGNOIR.

No garment more attractive can be imagined than the déshabillé galant: a teagown of hers which was ruched from the neck round to the short train, and displayed a frilled front of lace or muslin tied with ribbons, and daintily flounced round the hem. Silks, satins, and brocades were used to make these, but shot silk enjoyed supreme patronage; and the favourite dressmaker, Madame Bertin, was a heroine of vast importance, a genius of diplomatic habits, who played most successfully upon the fancies of her royal patron, bringing her every day some new device in paniers or sumptuous train which it was impossible to resist.