"Not for the world, Monsieur de Lauzun," exclaims Mademoiselle hurriedly. "I am speaking to you strictly in confidence." Her countenance has fallen, and she has turned very white. Lauzun watches her under his eyelids, and enjoys her sufferings. "Why should one so happy as your highness marry at all?" he adds, seeing that she does not speak. "I am happy, certainly, if riches and royal birth can confer happiness," she replies thoughtfully; "but there are drawbacks, Monsieur de Lauzun. I wish to confer my wealth upon a worthy individual." ("Myself, for instance," says Lauzun to himself; "I shall be delighted to spend it; indeed, I intend to do so.") "Many people," continues Mademoiselle, "at this very moment wish me dead in order to inherit it," and a sigh escapes her. "I am very lonely, Monsieur de Lauzun, very lonely." Her face assumes a melting expression, such as he had never seen on it before. What could she say to make him understand her? Thinking of this she sighs again very audibly. Lauzun knits his brows and affects to be lost in thought. "That is a most serious consideration, your highness. I admit it had not before occurred to me. Permit me time to consider of it before I tender any further advice." A thousand hopes rush into Mademoiselle's mind. "He understands me," she tells herself, "but my exalted position alarms him. He will propose to me when next we meet." At this moment the Queen entered the withdrawing-room. CHAPTER XXIV. A FAIR SUITOR. The following evening at her Majesty's circle Lauzun approaches Mademoiselle. A smile is on his face, and his manner is less formal. Mademoiselle seats herself apart in a recess, and signs to him to place himself beside her. "Now, now, he will speak," she repeats to herself. "Are you prepared, M. de Lauzun, to give me your opinion on my approaching marriage?" The tone of her voice is low and sweet; her hand falls near his; he draws a little back. "Believe me, madame, each word you have uttered is graven on my heart. I have founded many _châteaux d'Espagne_ on them." Mademoiselle is enchanted. "This is the moment," thinks she. She grows hot and cold by turns, and with difficulty conceals her delight. "Pray speak to me with frankness, Count. I want to discuss with you the most important event of my life—my marriage." "I am deeply gratified at being appointed president of your council, madame." Lauzun's manner suddenly changes. He is all at once disagreeable, stiff, and supercilious. He settles his ruffles over his hands, and pulls at his moustache. "Allow me to say, however, that no one in the world could enter into this delicate matter with more profound respect for you than myself." Mademoiselle is strangely baffled; spite of herself the conversation is drifting away, she knows not whither. She cannot decide if Lauzun is gratified or offended at her advances—a strange dilemma for a love-sick princess worth many millions!