s a book, the Abbe Bulteau thinks it may be a full-length
statue of Saint Radegonde. But other princesses have been canonized,
and, like her, hold books. At the same time, the monastic aspect of this
queen, her emaciated figure, her eye vaguely fixed on the region of
internal dreams, would well befit Clotaire's wife, who retired to a
cloister.

"But for what can she be watching? The dreaded arrival of the king bent
on tearing her from her Abbey at Poitiers to replace her on the throne?
For lack of any information every conjecture must be futile.

"The second statue again represents a king's wife holding a book. She is
younger; she wears neither cloak nor veil; her bosom is full and closely
fitted in a clinging dress, tightly drawn over the bust like wet linen;
a bodice resembling the Carlovingian _rokette_, fastened on one side.
Her hair lies flat in two bands on her forehead, covering her ears and
falling in long tresses plaited with ribbon, and ending in loose tufts.

"Her face is wilful and alert, and rather haughty. She is looking out of
herself; her beauty is of a more human type, and she knows it. Saint
Clotilde, is the Abbe Bulteau's guess.

"It is very certain that this Elect lady was not always a pattern of
amiability--not what could be called easy to get on with. Before being
reproved and chastened we see her in history, as vindictive, unrelenting
to pity, eager for retaliation. She would be Clotilde before her
repentance--the Queen, before she became a saint.

"But is it really she? The name was given her because a statue of the
same period and very like this, which was formerly at Notre Dame de
Corbeil, was dubbed with this name. It was, however, subsequently
admitted that it represented the Queen of Sheba. Are we then in the
presence of that sovereign? And why, if her name is not in the Book of
Life, has she a glory?

"It is highly probable that she is neither the wife of Clovis, nor
Solomon's friend--this strange princess who stands before us, at once so
earthly and yet more spectral than her sisters; for time has marred her
features, injured her skin, dotted her chin with hail-specks, vulgarized
her mouth, injured her nose, making it look like the ace of clubs, and
put the stamp of death on that living countenance.

"As to the third, she is tall and slender, a fragile spindle, a slim,
sylph-like creature, suggesting a taper with the lower portion
patterned, embossed, brocaded in the wax itself; she