"There is some tale of the kind, sire," replied the Duchess of Valentinois, "but I believe without foundation. Even were it so, however, sire," she continued, eagerly, "what matters it, in truth? The connexion has long ceased: the pope will annul the marriage instantly; and, not many months ago, your majesty vowed that you would give an edict rendering clandestine marriages of no effect, and declaring all illegal but such as have the full consent of the nearest surviving relative of both parties, always under your majesty's good pleasure." "I recollect," replied the king. "The edict was drawn up, but never signed, because, as it deeply affected ecclesiastical matters, it was thought best to have the sanction of our holy father in Rome, and he made manifold objections. But that edict, even had it issued, could not affect the past." "Your majesty will pardon me," replied the lady. "It had a clause which rendered it retrospective--at least I am so informed, in a letter which I received not many hours ago from your faithful subject the good Count of Meyrand, whom you intrusted to carry the edict to Rome. Had it not that retrospective sense," she added, eagerly, "the hopes and expectations of Montmorency and myself would both be very bitterly disappointed." The king's brow grew somewhat cloudy, and she added suddenly, "Not for myself, sire! I speak not for myself, and with no reference to this proposed marriage between Henriette de la Mark and the young Damville. But there is one thing for which I know the good constable has long sighed. The duke, his eldest son, is more ambitious than your majesty dreams of." "Indeed!" said the king, with a slight smile. "What do you mean, fair lady? Is his ambition dangerous to the state?" "Nay, nay, sire, not so," replied the duchess, with a smile, seeing that the king, while affecting ignorance, in reality understood what she meant. "There is a certain lovely lady bearing the same name as my more humble self, and somewhat near to the affections of your royal person--near, even as a daughter, some men say. She has now wept for some time in widowhood; and the young Duke of Montmorency, daringly priding himself upon the royal blood that flows also in his veins, has ventured to sigh for this fair lady's hand. But the great impediment is that fatal contract which he signed with Mademoiselle de Pienne, without his father's knowledge and consent." "I have heard something of this before," said the king, to whom the idea of uniting his natural daughter to the high race of Montmorency was not a little grateful. "But does the constable desire this marriage for his son? If so, why did he not speak long since?"