sily perceive that something was not as it
should be; as I looked about on all sides to find out what it was,
the agitation of the countess kept increasing. The queen, who
perceived all this, looked at me with a smile. I found means to
approach her Majesty, who said to me in a whisper: '_Let down your
lappets, or the countess will expire._' All this bustle arose from
two unlucky pins, which fastened up my lappets, while the etiquette
of costume said '_Lappets hanging down_.'"

To the Countess de Noailles Marie Antoinette speedily gave the name
of Madame l'Etiquette; this pleasantry the object of it could
pardon, not so the French nation. The avowed dislike to ceremony
manifested by the lively little dauphiness, her desire to substitute
the simple manners of her native Vienna for the stately formality of
Versailles, displeased more than her genuine condescension and
affability attracted. Early also in her married life, to beguile the
heavy tedium of their evenings, she instituted a variety of childish
games which became talked of and condemned; she liked theatrical
representations, and persuaded her two young brothers-in-law, with
the princesses, to join her in performing plays, and though they
were kept secret for a time, she suffered for her innocent
contrivances in public opinion. It must be remembered that Marie
Antoinette had no sincere friends upon her arrival in France, except
the Duc de Choiseul and his party, and his disgrace prevented her
deriving much benefit from the man who had first negotiated her
marriage. The house of Austria was looked upon with dislike and
doubt; nor were these, even in the case of the young dauphin's aunt,
Madame Adelaide, made a matter of concealment. Thus, at her entrance
upon public life, Antoinette was met with cynicism and prejudice,
and unfortunately her own conduct rather increased than quieted the
insidious voice--the "_bruit sourd_"--of both.

Louis XV. had manifested from the first great pleasure in the
society of his grandson's bride. After dining in his apartment at
the Tuileries, upon her arrival at Paris, she was obliged to
acknowledge the shouts of the multitude, which filled the garden
below, by presenting herself on the balcony. The Governor of Paris
had told her politely at the time, that "these were so many lovers."
Little did she think that at the very moment a strong party around
her was planning her divorce, under the supposition that the
dauphin's coldness to