very fashionable young lady who could always be relied on to bring out the ornaments which looked best on certain gowns.
“Too fat, Madame,” said Anne.
Then Mary laughed and taking the girl by the hands danced round the room with her.
“So I look fat, do I? So would you, Mistress Anne, if you were as petticoated as I am. And I will tell you something; tomorrow I shall wear yet another petticoat; and I want you to find some quilting.”
“Quilting, Madame?”
“I said quilting. Those black eyes are very inquisitive. Never mind, little Anne. You shall discover. In the meantime not a word … not a word to anyone of petticoats or quilting. You understand me?”
“Yes, Madame.” The black eyes were demure, the lips turned up at the corners. The girl had wit enough to enjoy the joke.
Each day Mary was visited at the Hotel de Clugny by Louise, Marguerite or Francois.
Daily her body seemed to grow thicker and each day as they left her they were in greater despair.
Mary’s eyes, sparkling with excitement, would be watchful. They knew that she guarded some secret, which gave her the utmost pleasure.
“There can be no doubt about it,” said Louise in despair. “Louis has left her pregnant.”
Francois beat his fist against his knee. “Months of waiting … then the birth. And if it is a boy …
Louise paced up and down her apartment.
“That it should have come to this. All the years and now …
Only Marguerite had comfort to offer. “It may be a girl,” she said.
But even so there would be the months of uncertainty.
Mary had shut the door of her chamber and taken little Anne by the hands. She danced with her round and round until they were both breathless.
“Anne, did you see her face? Marguerite’s, I mean. Poor Marguerite! It is a shame. She has been a good friend to me.”
“She has been a better one to her brother, Madame.”
“Well, Anne, that is natural. As for Louise, I believe she would like to kill me.”
“And would do, Madame, if it were possible for the deed not to be discovered.”
“I know it well. That is perhaps why I enjoy my little joke.”
“The quilting has slipped, Madame.”
“I find it rather hot, Anne. Perhaps I will wear fewer petticoats tomorrow.”
“You must not grow smaller, Madame.”
“Not until the time is ripe,” was the answer. “Have you heard any rumors about the embassy from England?”
“No, Madame, only that the King has chosen the Duke of Suffolk to lead it.”
Mary clasped her hands together.
“My Charles, soon he will be with me.” She began to dance once more round the room, her arms held out as though to a partner. She stopped suddenly. “I should be mourning Louis. Poor Louis who was always kind to me. But I cannot pretend, Anne. How can I mourn when Charles is coming to me? And when he comes, this time I shall never let him go.”
Anne had run to her and was picking up the quilting which had fallen from her skirts.
Mary snatched it from her and threw it high into the air.
“When he is here, the joke will be over. I would not have him see me ungainly, I do assure you.”
Then she laughed and wept a little while Anne watched her with solemn eyes.
Marguerite, her eyes wide, her face pale, burst into her mother’s apartment.
“What is it, my dear?” demanded Louise, and Francois, who was with his mother, came swiftly to his sister’s side.
“I have just left the Queen,” stammered Margaret.
“And she has told you …,” began Francois.
Marguerite shook her head. “I can’t believe it, and yet …”
“My dearest, it is unlike you to be incoherent,” Francois murmured.
“Come, come,” put in Louise impatiently. “What is it?”
“I was studying her figure and thinking that it had thickened even since yesterday. She was seated and suddenly rose; I am sure my eyes did not deceive me, but it seemed that something beneath her gown
