this just as their Highnesses were about to kneel down,
and I felt so irresistibly inclined to laugh that I was obliged to retire
to my room to avoid bursting out laughing before everybody.

Fortunately the Guises did not get to know of this little detail until
long after, or they might have imagined that it was a planned piece of
malicious mockery. However, it is only fair to admit that the marriage
was treated in a very off-hand way, and it is that which always happens
to people whose modesty and candour hinder them from posing and talking
big when they get the chance. A strange delusion, truly!

Mademoiselle d'Orleans, the eldest child of the second marriage, is
considered one of the prettiest and most graceful of blondes. Her
endowments were surely all that a princess could need, if one except
reserve in speaking, and a general dignity of deportment.

When it was a question of giving her to Prince de Medici, Grand Duke of
Tuscany, she was all the while sincerely attached to handsome Prince
Charles de Lorraine, her maternal cousin. But the King, who, in his
heart of hearts, wanted to get hold of Lorraine for himself, could not
sanction this union; nay, he did more: he opposed it. Accordingly the
Princess, being urged to do so by her mother, consented to go to Italy,
and as we say at Court, expatriate herself.

The Bishop of Nziers, named De Bonzy, the Tuscan charge d'afaires, came,
on behalf of the Medici family, to make formal demand of her hand, and
had undertaken to bring her to her husband with all despatch. He had
undertaken an all too difficult task.

"Monsieur de Bonzy," said she to the prelate, "as it is you who here play
the part of interpreter and cavalier of honour as it is you, moreover,
who have to drag me away from my native country, I have to inform you
that it is my intention to leave it as slowly as possible, and to
contemplate it at my leisure before quitting it forever."

And, indeed, the Princess desired to make a stay more or less long in
every town en route. If, on the way, she noticed a convent of any
importance, she at once asked to be taken thither, and, in default of
other pastime or pretext, she requested them to say complines with full
choral accompaniment.

If she saw some castle or other, she inquired the name of its owner, and,
though she hardly knew the inmates, was wont to invite herself to dinner
and supper.

The Bishop of Beziers grew disconsolate. He wrote letters to the Co