The last time Mme. Le Brun saw the Queen was at the last ball given at Versailles, which took place in the theatre, and at which she looked on from one of the boxes. She observed with indignation the rudeness of some of the young Radical nobles; they refused to dance when requested to do so by the Queen, whose agitation and uneasiness were only too apparent. The demeanour of the populace was becoming every day more ferocious and alarming; the drives and streets were scarcely safe for any but the lower classes. At a concert given by Mme. Le Brun, most of the guests came in with looks of consternation. They had been driving earlier in the day to Longchamps, and as they passed the barrire de ltoile, a furious mob had surrounded and insulted everybody who passed in carriages. Villainous looking faces pressed close to them, horrible figures climbed on to the steps of the carriages, crying out, with infamous threats and brutal language, that next year they should be in the carriages and the owners behind them.
M. Denon, who could not imagine what she meant, looked at her in astonishment, only sayingI have come to consult Destiny in your temple, Madame, if your Highness permits, said he with a bow.But Louis refused, and when the ruffians surrounded the chateau, forbade them to be fired on, [216] which order, when they heard, they began to massacre the gardes-du-corps, who were not allowed to defend themselves!
FORE:[352]Inheriting the cool head, calm judgment, and commonsense of her father and grandfather, she did not believe in these extravagant dreams of universal happiness and prosperity. On the contrary, her mind was filled with gloomy forebodings, and during a severe illness that she had, she called her daughters round her bed and spoke to them of [209] her fears for the future with a sadness and earnestness only too prophetic, and with which Pauline was more strongly impressed than her sisters.
[119]One autumn night, after ten oclock, the beggar had not come in. They supposed the woman who took care of him had neglected to fetch him, and charitably waited till half-past. The sister cellarer sent for the keys, to take them, as usual, to the prioress, who would put them under her pillow. She was a demoiselle de Toustain, who, par parenthse, had had the golden ball of her prioresss staff engraved with the motto of her family, Tous-teints-de-sang (All stained with blood), which my aunt had thought out of place on an emblem of religious and pastoral office. She had remarked to the [372] Prioress, My dear daughter, a war-cry is always improper for a bride of Jesus Christ....
