repeat to you, I am Baron Marshal, the father of this lady."

"You are more credulous, sir, than I am, if you believe that," said
Belleville, coarsely.

"Perhaps I am less credulous than you suppose," said Marshal, quietly.
"It would, for example, be difficult for me to believe that you are a
nobleman. I can assure you, however, that I am not only noble, but a man
of honor."

Belleville was in the act of giving a passionate answer, when the doors
of the supper-room were thrown open, and a sea of light irradiated the
room.

At this moment, the queen and her ladies entered from the card-room,
and, at her appearance, every word, every sound was hushed. Silently,
and with a conciliatory smile, the queen passed through the saloon, and
seated herself at the table; she then gave the sign to the grand-master,
that her guests should be seated. And now the servants, in golden
liveries, flew from side to side bearing silver plates, containing the
rare and fragrant viands which the inventive head of Baron Pollnitz had
ordered for the favored guests of her majesty the Queen of Prussia.

Nothing is so well calculated to quiet the perturbed soul as a costly
and well-prepared feast. The haughty Frenchmen soon forgot their
mortified vanity and resentment, and were well pleased to be seated at
the table of the "great Frederick." They ate and drank right merrily in
honor of the bold and brave prince who had sent them here from Rossbach;
but if the rich dishes made them forget their mortification, the fiery
wine excited yet more their presumptuous levity. They forgot that
they were the guests of a queen. Louder and more extravagant was their
gayety, more boisterous, more indiscreet their unrestrained laughter.
In their frantic merriment they dared to sing aloud some of the little
ambiguous, equivocal chansons, which belonged to the gamins of Paris,
and at which the Marquise de Pompadour laughed till she shed tears when
sung sometimes by the merry courtiers.

In vain the grand-master besought them, in his most polished manner, not
to sing at table.

"We have been so long forced to listen to the dull, screeching discord
of your singers, that we must have some compensation!" said they.
"Besides," said Belleville, in a loud voice, "it belongs now to bon
ton to sing at the table; and the Prussian court should thank us for
introducing this new Parisian mode."

They sang, chatted, laughed, and almost overpowered the music by their
bois