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208 reckless love of novelty to the then somewhat staid French court. Claim your privileges as an oddity, and even you yourself will be astonished at their extent. In an atmosphere of ceremony, Christina was free as air; surrounded by forms, she observed none of them; and, equally lax in her moral and religious notions, she yet succeeded with a queen now prude and devotee—and both, it may be, the more strongly pronounced, from their being late assumptions. Anne of Austria was amused, so was Louis; and l'Amazone philosophe had a prodigious run.

There never was mask so gay but some tears were shed behind it; and Francesca, one perhaps among many, found it possible to be very sad, even at a festival. Despite of Madame de Mercœur's kindness, her situation was often painful, and always disagreeable. She could not but contrast her lot with that of others; of course she could only judge of the exterior, which at least seemed so much more brilliant than her own. They had friends, connexions whose credit was mutual, fortune, and a defined place in society; she was an orphan, poor and dependent. Many who hated and yet cringed to the Mancinis took a sort of petty revenge in slights shewn to a favourite without influence; she pined under a