all, and
meaning beautiful.

But who can anticipate the wonderful and secret decrees of destiny! My
friend Patu wished to have a copy of that portrait; one cannot refuse
such a slight service to a friend, and I gave an order for it to the same
painter. But the artist, having been summoned to Versailles, shewed that
delightful painting with several others, and M. de St. Quentin found it
so beautiful that he lost no time in shewing it the king. His Most
Christian Majesty, a great connoisseur in that line, wished to ascertain
with his own eyes if the artist had made a faithful copy; and in case the
original should prove as beautiful as the copy, the son of St. Louis knew
very well what to do with it.

M. de St. Quentin, the king's trusty friend, had the charge of that
important affair; it was his province: He enquired from the painter
whether the original could be brought to Versailles, and the artist, not
supposing there would be any difficulty, promised to attend to it.

He therefore called on me to communicate the proposal; I thought it was
delightful, and I immediately told the sister, who jumped for joy. She
set to work cleaning, washing and clothing the young beauty, and two or
three days after they went to Versailles with the painter to see what
could be done. M. de St. Quentin's valet, having received his
instructions from his master, took the two females to a pavilion in the
park, and the painter went to the hotel to await the result of his
negotiation. Half an hour afterwards the king entered the pavilion alone,
asked the young O-Morphi if she was a Greek woman, took the portrait out
of his pocket, and after a careful examination exclaimed,

"I have never seen a better likeness."

His majesty then sat down, took the young girl on his knees, bestowed a
few caresses on her, and having ascertained with his royal hand that the
fruit had not yet been plucked, he gave her a kiss.

O-Morphi was looking attentively at her master, and smiled.

"What are you laughing at?" said the king.

"I laugh because you and a crown of six francs are as like as two peas."

That naivete made the king laugh heartily, and he asked her whether she
would like to remain in Versailles.

"That depends upon my sister," answered the child.

But the sister hastened to tell the king that she could not aspire to a
greater honour. The king locked them up again in the pavilion and went
away, but in less than a quarter of an hour St. Quen