The Prince for whom the Queen had embarked in an important family quarrel--and a quarrel involving national prerogatives--was, besides, little calculated to inspire interest.

Still young, uninformed, and deficient in natural talent, he was always making blunders.
He went to the Jardin du Roi; M.de Buffon, who received him there, offered him a copy of his works; the Prince declined accepting the book, saying to M.de Buffon, in the most polite manner possible, "I should be very sorry to deprive you of it." [Joseph II, on his visit to France, also went to see M.de Buffon, and said to that celebrated man, "I am come to fetch the copy of your works which my brother forgot."-- NOTE BY THE EDITOR.] It may be supposed that the Parisians were much entertained with this answer.
The Queen was exceedingly mortified at the mistakes made by her brother; but what hurt her most was being accused of preserving an Austrian heart.
Marie Antoinette had more than once to endure that imputation during the long course of her misfortunes.

Habit did not stop the tears such injustice caused; but the first time she was suspected of not loving France, she gave way to her indignation.

All that she could say on the subject was useless; by seconding the pretensions of the Archduke she had put arms into her enemies' hands; they were labouring to deprive her of the love of the people, and endeavoured, by all possible means, to spread a belief that the Queen sighed for Germany, and preferred that country to France.
Marie Antoinette had none but herself to rely on for preserving the fickle smiles of the Court and the public.

The King, too indifferent to serve her as a guide, as yet had conceived no love for her, notwithstanding the intimacy that grew between them at Choisy.