t),
was yet arrayed with more care than usual. Her light hair, instead of
being merely banded, was arranged in two bunches of curls, which suited
very well with her full and florid cheeks. Her cap was trimmed with
bright rose-colored ribbon, and whoever had seen the lady in her tight
fitting dress of gray-watered silk would have easily guessed that
Mrs. Grivois, her tirewoman, must have required the assistance and the
efforts of another of the princess's women to achieve so remarkable a
reduction in the ample figure of their mistress.

We shall explain the edifying cause of this partial return to the
vanities of the world. The princess, attended by Mrs. Grivois, who
acted as housekeeper, was giving her final orders with regard to some
preparations that were going on in a vast parlor. In the midst of this
room was a large round table, covered with crimson velvet, and near it
stood several chairs, amongst which, in the place of honor, was an arm
chair of gilded wood. In one corner, not far from the chimney, in which
burned an excellent fire, was a buffet. On it were the divers materials
for a most dainty and exquisite collation. Upon silver dishes were piled
pyramids of sandwiches composed of the roes of carp and anchovy paste,
with slices of pickled tunny-fish and Lenigord truffles (it was in
Lent); on silver dishes, placed over burning spirits of wine, so as to
keep them very hot, tails of Meuse crawfish boiled in cream, smoked in
golden colored pastry, and seemed to challenge comparison with delicious
little Marennes oyster-patties, stewed in Madeira, and flavored with a
seasoning of spiced sturgeon. By the side of these substantial
dishes were some of a lighter character, such as pineapple tarts,
strawberry-creams (it was early for such fruit), and orange-jelly served
in the peel, which had been artistically emptied for that purpose.
Bordeaux, Madeira, and Alicant sparkled like rubies and topazes in large
glass decanters, while two Sevres ewers were filled, one with coffee
a la creme, the other with vanilla chocolate, almost in the state of
sherbet, from being plunged in a large cooler of chiselled silver,
containing ice.

But what gave to this dainty collation a singularly apostolic and
papal character were sundry symbols of religious worship carefully
represented. Thus there were charming little Calvaries in apricot paste,
sacerdotal mitres in burnt almonds, episcopal croziers in sweet cake,
to which the princess