Gabrielle fell at the queen's feet.
'Dear, beautiful madame!' she cried, raising her hands and her eyes, which filled instantly with tears; 'I came to see you.'
The queen surprised, and by no means offended, looked at her with benevolence; this encouraged Gabrielle, who pursued,—'Madame! I had a dear mistress, one so kind, so good, and so gentle; she loved me, and I loved her. I was not long with her, but that was quite long enough for her to have gained my heart; and then, madame, she had no one else to love, except yellow Gabriel.'
'Yellow what!' exclaimed the queen.
'Her cat, madame,—she had dyed it saffron; and she was passionately attached to it. Then, poor thing, she had nothing else to love,—no little child to hug, no sisters to confide to, her mother dead, and her father so cold and hard and dreadful.'
'Why, what was there dreadful about him? Jump up, don't kneel there.'
'Please let me remain here, dear, good queen; I used to kneel before my dear mistress and talk to her, and she would console me in my dreadful troubles.'
'Were your troubles very bad?'
'Oh, madame!' she said, wringing her hands; 'my poor father!'
'What of him?'