g,
but Her Majesty's words undeceived her.

"I cannot express to you," said she, "the pleasure which I experience
in receiving a young girl whose noble self-devotion made no account of
either dangers or difficulties in her father's cause. I desire to
assure you of my sincere respect and admiration, and will hope that the
Court may derive new lustre from your presence."

These flattering words surprised Hermengarde, whose ingenuous soul,
devoid of all pride, had no desire to become conspicuous in any way. At
the end of the reception, which had been wearily lengthened out by the
many formalities then in usage, she withdrew to her own chamber to
repose from the fatigues of the journey.

Beatrice's expectation of the Italian's beauty had been greatly
surpassed by the reality. Herself very handsome, and perfectly aware of
her charms, she had in her invitation neither been influenced by her
guest's merits nor Rechberg's wishes, but simply by the curiosity of
seeing one whose beauty was so widely renowned. Up to this moment her
own rank and loveliness had given her the first place at Court, and now
she found herself in the position of a general who sustains an
unexpected defeat after a long career of victories. The haughty
sovereign was disappointed and provoked, and although she made every
effort to retain her calmness, each movement betrayed the thoughts
which agitated her mind.

"Well, madam, what do you think of the young lady's beauty?" asked
Richilda, who rather liked to tease her mistress.

"Take away those draperies; it is suffocatingly hot," said Beatrice.
"Oh, you ask me what I think?--Do you find her pretty?"

"I have never seen any one like her!" said the tire-woman, boldly. "It
is to be supposed that my taste is not perfect, but it is the
expression of my opinion. She is beautiful, wonderfully beautiful!"

"Indeed? you think her wonderfully beautiful?" repeated Beatrice, with
a mixture of scorn and anger. "You are very enthusiastic, it seems!"

"I only wished to express the highest point of beauty. Perhaps I should
have said beautiful as an angel!--And, indeed, your Majesty, I always
imagined that an angel would look like her!"

Beatrice endeavored to restrain her anger, but in spite of herself, she
colored and grew pale by turns.

"Oh! she is only a child yet, not fourteen they say, and before the age
of twenty she may change a great deal. You know that pretty children
often grow up into ugly women."