days of the queen's widowhood. She had pawned all her jewels; she had sent all her money to the assistance of her son; and she herself was living a beggar on the bounty of the King of France, and that was measured out stingily. Poverty was in the air; the great rooms assigned to her in the Palace of the Louvre were bare and cold; and when Patience succeeded in forcing her way into her presence, she found the queen cowering over a few embers in the great fireplace, with the young princess, then only a child of eight years, gathered in her arms for warmth. Approaching the queen, Patience knelt before her. Approaching the queen, Patience knelt before her. "Do you not recognize me, your majesty?" she said. "Do you not recognize me, your majesty?" she said. The queen looked at her. The queen looked at her. "Yes, I recognize you," she said; "you come from my friend," and in a low voice she mentioned a name, adding: "Yes, I recognize you," she said; "you come from my friend," and in a low voice she mentioned a name, adding: "What of her?" "What of her?" "Dead," answered Patience, "even as her husband died after the great battle, and with her dying breath she bade me bring you this." And opening back her cloak she showed, lying in her arms, a sleeping child of some eighteen months old. "Dead," answered Patience, "even as her husband died after the great battle, and with her dying breath she bade me bring you this." And opening back her cloak she showed, lying in her arms, a sleeping child of some eighteen months old. "Why did you bring her here?" said the queen, throwing up her hands in despair. "What am I to do with her? We have scarce food for ourselves. How shall I feed her?" "Why did you bring her here?" said the queen, throwing up her hands in despair. "What am I to do with her? We have scarce food for ourselves. How shall I feed her?"
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