hand, and, holding it by the wrist, let the light fall upon it, as if it had been a toy she wished to examine. "Ah, mon Dieu! how perfect! Talk of the works of art as the standard of ideal beauty—look at this work of nature. I consider my voyage from Rome amply repaid by the sight of the most lovely object in the world. In my country they would say you had the hand of a water-sprite—white as the earliest snow. And you have been gathering roses, I see,"—turning the little palm, so that the delicate pink inside became visible.
"Flatterer!" exclaimed the Queen, and holding up the said hand in a menacing attitude, but with no appearance of displeasure.
Christina snatched both hands, kissed them, and, without further farewell, walked out of the room, half-singing Scarron's celebrated lines—
"Elle avoit au bout de ses manches
Une paire de mains si blanches,
Que j'eu voudrois être souffleté."
She left her character behind her,—character which usually has the fate of King Pelias, namely, that of being torn to pieces by its dearest friends. The Swedish Queen, however, escaped wonderfully well. She had outraged every rule of the court, mocked their proprieties, and in-
