CHAPTER XXIII
THE QUEEN'S SOIREE
What chronicler of true events will ever attempt to explain exactlyhow rumour succeeds in breaking through every bond with which privacywould desire to fetter her, and having obtained a perch on theswiftest of all currents of air, travels through infinite space, andanon, observing a glaringly public spot wherein to alight, shedescends with amazing rapidity and mingles with the crowd.
Thus with the news anent milor Eglinton's resignation of the GeneralControl of Finance.
By the time the Court assembled that evening for the Queen'sreception, every one had heard of it, and also that milor, having hada violent quarrel with his wife, had quitted or was about to quitVersailles without further warning.
The news was indeed exceedingly welcome. Not from any ill-will towardLord Eglinton, of course, who was very popular with the ladies andmore than tolerated by the men, nor from any sense of triumph overMadame Lydie, although she had not quite so many friends as milor, butbecause it happened to be Thursday, and every Thursday Her Majesty theQueen held her Court from seven o'clock till nine o'clock: whichfunction was so deadly dull, that there was quite an epidemic ofdislocated jaws--caused by incessant yawning--among the favoured fewwho were both privileged and obliged to attend. A piece of realgossip, well-authenticated, and referring to a couple so highlyplaced as Lord and Lady Eglinton, was therefore a great boon. Even HerMajesty could not fail to be interested, as Lydie had always stoodvery highly in the good graces of the prim and melancholy Queen,whilst milor was one of that very small and very select circle whichthe exalted lady honoured with her conversation on public occasions.
Now on this same Thursday evening, Queen Marie Leszcynska entered herthrone-room precisely at seven o'clock. Madame Lydie was with her asshe entered, and it was at once supposed that Her Majesty was alreadyacquainted with Lord Eglinton's decision, for she conversed with theneglected wife with obvious kindliness and sympathy.
His Majesty was expected in about a quarter of an hour. As Madame dePompadour and her immediate entourage were excluded from these solemnfunctions, the King showed his disapproval of the absence of hisfriends by arriving as late as etiquette allowed, and by looking on atthe presentations, and other paraphernalia of his wife's receptions,in morose and silent _ennui_.
This evening, however, the proceedings were distinctly enlivened bythat subtle and cheerful breath of scandal, which hovered all over theroom. Whilst noble dowagers presented debutante daughters to HerMajesty, and grave gentlemen explained to fledgling sons how to make afirst bow to the King, groups of younger people congregated in distantcorners, well away from the royal dais and discussed the great news ofthe day.
Lydie did not mingle with these groups. In addition to her many otherdignities and functions, she was Grande Marechale de la Cour to QueenMarie Leszcynska and on these solemn Thursday evenings her place wasbeside Her Majesty, and her duty to present such ladies of high rankwho had either just arrived at Court from the country or who, for someother reason, had not yet had the honour of a personal audience.
Chief among these reasons was the Queen's own exclusiveness. The prouddaughter of Stanislaus of Poland with her semi-religious education,her narrow outlook on life, her unfortunate experience of matrimony,had a wholesome horror of the frisky matrons and flirtatious minxeswhom Louis XIV's taste had brought into vogue at the Court of France;and above all, she had an unconquerable aversion for the variousscions of that mushroom nobility dragged from out the gutter by thecatholic fancies of le Roi Soleil.
Though she could not help but receive some of these people at themonster Court functions, which the elaborate and rigid etiquette ofthe time imposed upon her, and whereat all the tatterdemalions thathad e'er filched a handle for their name had, by that same unwrittendictum, the right of entry, she always proudly refused subsequently torecognize in private a presentation to herself, unless it was made byher special leave, at one of her own intimate audiences, and throughthe mediation either of her own Grande Marechale de la Cour, or of oneof her privileged lady friends.
Thus Madame la Comtesse de Stainville, though formally presented atthe general Court by virtue of her husband's title and position, hadnever had the honour of an invitation to Her Majesty's privatethrone-room. Queen Marie had heard vague rumours anent the earlyreputation of "la belle brune de Bordeaux"; this very nick-name,freely bandied about, grated on her puritanic ear. Irene deStainville, chafing under the restrictions which placed her on a levelwith the Pompadours of the present and the Montespans or La Vallieresof the past, had more than once striven to enlist Lydie's help andprotection in obtaining one of the coveted personal introductions toHer Majesty.
Lydie, however, had always put her off with polite but ambiguouspromises, until to-day, when her heart, overfilled with gratitude forGaston de Stainville, prompted her to do something which she knew mustplease him, and thus prove to him that she was thinking of him at thevery time when he was risking his entire future and probably his lifein an attempt to serve her.
Her own troubles and sorrows in no way interfered with the dischargeof her social duties. Whilst she still occupied certain officialpositions at Court, she was determined to fill them adequately andwith perfect dignity. A brief note to Irene de Stainville acquaintedthe latter lady with the pleasing fact, that Madame la GrandeMarechale would have much pleasure in introducing her personally toHer Majesty the Queen that very same evening, and "la belle brune deBordeaux" was therefore present at this most exclusive of allfunctions on Thursday, August 13, 1746, and duly awaited the happymoment when she could make her curtsey before the proudest princess inall Europe, in the magnificent gown which had been prepared some timeago in view of this possible and delightful eventuality.
She stood somewhat isolated from the rest of the throng, between twoor three of her most faithful admirers, holding herself aloof from thefrivolity of the surrounding gossip and wearing a sphinx-like air ofdetachment and of hidden and sorrowful knowledge.
To every comment as to the non-appearance of her lord at the soiree,she had mutely replied by a slight shrug of the shoulders.
Up in the gallery, behind a screen of exotic plants, the band ofmusicians was playing one of M. Lulli's most famous compositions, thebeautiful motet in E flat which, alone amongst the works of thatmaster of melody, was sufficiently serious and sedate for the Queen'staste. Anon Her Majesty gave the signal that dancing might begin. Sheliked to watch it, if it was decorously performed, though she neverjoined in it herself. Therefore a measured and stately gavotte wasdanced by the young people every Thursday, and perhaps a majesticpavane afterward. But the minuet was thought unbecoming. Her Majestysat in one of the heavy gilded chairs underneath the canopy, the otherbeing reserved for King Louis.
Lydie watched the gavotte with dreamy, abstracted eyes; every now andthen the Queen spoke to her, and the force of habit caused her toreply coherently and with that formality of expression, which HerMajesty liked to hear. But her mind was very far from hersurroundings. It was accompanying Gaston de Stainville on his recklessride through the rich plains of Normandy; her wishes sped him on hisway, her gratitude for his noble self-sacrifice would have guarded himfrom the perils of the road.
The monotonous tune of the gavotte with its distinct and sharplydefined beat, sounded to her like the measured clink of a horse'shoofs on rough hard ground. She was quite unconscious that, from everycorner of the room, inquisitive and sarcastic eyes were watching allher movements.
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