Martha Louise wandered into an ocean of thistle and the purple of the flowers and the blue of the sky and the soft air of spring got her to thinking of Marie Antoinette and those last days the young queen had before the Revolution, those days she spent playing shepherdess in the French countryside. The thought made Martha Louise sad–we all have our follies, our weaknesses, from queens of France to teenage girls in Texas. She bent forward and pretended to curtsy a little, as if to a partner in a minuet–she held the hem of her skirt and sashayed her way through the feathery flowers.