[Illustration: BEDCHAMBER OF LOUIS XIV. AT VERSAILLES.] "My cousin," said the King at length, rising and offering her a seat beside his own, "what I have to tell you makes me wretched." "Good God! Sire, what is it?" asked Mademoiselle in a hoarse voice. She had turned as white as the dress (that of an affianced bride) she wore. Her eyes were fixed upon the King in a wild stare. "Calm yourself, my cousin," said Louis solemnly. "It is said by my ministers that I am sacrificing you, my relative, to the interests of my favourite Lauzun. I am also informed that Lauzun declares he does not love you—that it was you who offered yourself to him in marriage!" Mademoiselle clasped her hands, then pressed them on her forehead. "Not love me?" she cried. "What a base lie! Lauzun tells me he adores me." "Nevertheless, my cousin, such reports must have some foundation," resumed the King, speaking with great gravity. "They compromise me in my royal person; they tarnish the glory of the Crown of France, which I wear." His look and manner from grave had become overbearing and pompous. It was quite evident that whatever touched his own position he would ruthlessly sacrifice. "My cousin, I have to announce to you that I cannot permit this marriage." He spoke in a loud, grating voice, raised his eyes to the ceiling, stroked his chin with his hand, and seemed to swell with self-consciousness. A ringing scream was heard from Mademoiselle. She lay back on her arm-chair motionless. Having asserted his dignity, and conveyed in proper terms to his cousin that neither her entreaties nor her sufferings could for an instant be considered when they encroached upon his royal state, Louis relaxed his rigid attitude, condescended to turn his eyes downwards upon poor Mademoiselle, and in a voice kind, spite of his sublimity, added— "I am very sorry for you, my cousin, very sorry. You have good cause to complain of me; but my duty as King of France is supreme. I cannot permit you to espouse the Comte de Lauzun." "Ah, sire—" groaned Mademoiselle, in a voice so choked by agitation it sounded strange in the King's ears, and made him shudder; (for his selfish nature instinctively caused him to shrink from every species of suffering). She held out her hands supplicatingly towards him, and vainly essayed several times to speak. "Ah, Sire," she said at last in a voice scarcely audible, "you cannot withdraw your word—the word of a King. Consider," and she stopped and burst into an agony of tears. "Consider, my cousin, no one can have anything to do with my marriage but myself." No sooner had she uttered these words than Louis drew himself up; the long curls of the full-bottomed wig which covered his shoulders vibrated, and the diamond star he wore on his coat of peach-coloured satin glistened, so sudden had been his action. At the same time, such a stony look came into his hard face, as gave him the aspect of a statue.