"No, I do not know that I can call that part of it news. The very first thing that woman did when she saw me was to burst into tears," went on the jester in an injured tone. "I appeal to you, I appeal to any man, if there is anything mournful in my appearance? If I went about clothed in crape I could not have a sadder effect upon her than I do in my jester's suit. She said she was crying because she was afraid something was going to happen, and the next day when I saw her she cried because it had happened. You see she had lost no time, but had begun to weep in good season." "I wonder if you have heard my news,--that my father has succeeded to the dukedom of Savoy?" asked the other as the jester paused. "Yes, I have heard it, my boy, and I congratulate you with all my heart," said the fool hastily. "It is a fine inheritance, and one day you will be Philibert the Second, Duke of Savoy. Accept my felicitations." "Thank you. And you see, Le Glorieux, there is quite a difference between the heir of the Count de Bresse and the heir of the duke of a wealthy province, and I feel that I can hope--well, I can hope for almost anything." "Hope," said the jester gravely, "is one of the finest things in this world, and I wish we all had more of it. But you have not asked me what made Cunegunda weep." "No," said Philibert absently, as one whose mind is traveling far afield; "what did make Cunegunda weep?" "Because," replied the jester, "she has the narrowest mind of any woman living." "And she is only beginning to find it out?" asked the other, laughing. "Oh, she has not found it out, and never will, though I have known it from the beginning of our acquaintance. Now I ask you, why should not Spain be a good country to live in? There are flowers and palaces and oranges and bull-fights and everything to make a man or woman comfortable, and there are plenty of new friends, I dare say, if one cares to make them; still that woman is drowned in tears because she must go there, as if it were purgatory." "Why must she go to Spain if she does not care to do so?" asked Philibert. "Because she will not leave her young mistress," replied the fool deliberately. "You do not mean----" "Yes, I do mean just that. As I have said before, Manuel has worked hard, and the same fleet that brings the Spanish infanta to our shores will take away our own little princess to be the bride of the young Prince of the Asturias, only son of Ferdinand and Isabella, and heir to the kingdoms of Castile, and Leon, and Aragon, and I can not tell how many other countries. And I am going with her, and so is the weeping Cunegunda, and a large suite of ladies and gentlemen." And thus chattering, and without casting another glance at Philibert de Bresse, heir to the dukedom of Savoy, the jester left the room.