Just as she was she could
have sat in advance for the portrait of the young
daughter of the Regent d'Orleans, at the famous dinner
whence she was carried, foul-mouthed, intoxicated, and
helpless, to her bed, in the lost and lamented days of
the Ancient Regime.
Suddenly, even while the priest was lifting his hands,
and all conscious heads were bowed in reverent expectation
of the
coming blessing,
there appeared under
the arch of the far-off door at the bottom of the hall
an old and bent and white-haired lady, leaning upon a
crutch-stick; and she lifted the stick and pointed it
towa