The queen of _Navarre_ was sitting with her ladies in the painted bow-window, facing the gate of the second court, as _De Croix_ passed through it --He is handsome, said the Lady _Baussiere_. ----He has a good mien, said _La Battarelle_ ----He is finely shaped, said _La Guyol_ --I never saw an officer of the horse-guards in my life, said _La Maronette_, with two such legs ----Or who stood so well upon them, said _La Sabatiere_ ------But he has no whiskers, cried _La Fosseuse_ ----Not a pile, said _La Rebours_.
The queen went directly to her oratory, musing all the way, as she walked through the gallery, upon the subject; turning it this way and that way in her fancy--_Ave Maria!_------what can _La Fosseuse_ mean? said she, kneeling down upon the cushion.
_La Guyol_, _La Battarelle_, _La Maronette_, _La Sabatiere_, retired instantly to their chambers ------Whiskers! said all four of them to themselves, as they bolted their doors on the inside.
The Lady _Carnavallette_ was counting her beads with both hands, unsuspected, under her farthingal----from St. _Antony_ down to St. _Ursula_ inclusive, not a saint passed through her fingers without whiskers; St. _Francis_, St. _Dominick_, St. _Bennet_, St. _Basil_, St. _Bridget_, had all whiskers.
The Lady _Baussiere_ had got into a wilderness of conceits, with moralizing too intricately upon _La Fosseuse's_ text ----She mounted her palfrey, her page followed her----the host passed by--the Lady _Baussiere_ rode on.
One denier, cried the order of mercy--one single denier, in behalf of a thousand patient captives, whose eyes look towards heaven and you for their redemption.
----The Lady _Baussiere_ rode on.

The queen of Navarre was sitting with her ladies in the bow-window, facing the gate, as De Croix passed through it.
'He is handsome,' said the Lady Baussiere. 'He is finely shaped,' said La Guyol.' 'I never saw an officer with two such legs,' said La Maronette.
-'But he has no whiskers,' cried La Fosseuse.
The queen went to her oratory, musing upon the subject; 'Ave Maria! - what can La Fosseuse mean?' said she, kneeling to pray.
La Guyol, La Battarelle, La Maronette and La Sabatiere retired instantly to their chambers. 'Whiskers!' said all four to themselves.
The Lady Carnavallette was telling her rosary: from St. Antony down to St. Ursula, not a saint passed through her fingers without whiskers.
The Lady Baussiere had got into a wilderness of speculations upon La Fosseuse's words. She mounted her palfrey, her page following, and rode on.
'One penny,' cried a suppliant of the Order of Mercy, 'one single penny, on behalf of a thousand patient captives.'
The Lady Baussiere rode on.
