"That is a mark of confidence which does us great honor. Let us consult upon it. What is your Majesty's opinion upon this difficult question, Madame?" "Oh, I must only speak after you, Sire." "Well, then, I think that the style of the coat should remain the same,--a broad doublet with full sleeves, with slashings in three colors. Am I not right?" "Yes, Sire; but what shall the colors be? That is the question?" "It is not an easy one; but that is because you do not help me, my fair adviser. The first color?" "It ought to be white," said Mary,--"the color of France." "Then the second," declared François, "shall be that of Scotland,--blue." "Very well; but the third?" "How would yellow do?" "Oh, no; that is the color of Spain. Green would be better." "That is the color of the Guises," said the king. "Very well, Monsieur; is that a reason for excluding it?" "No, indeed; but will these three colors harmonize well?" "Well thought of!" cried Mary Stuart. "Let us take red, the color of Switzerland; it will be in a measure a reminder of their country to the poor fellows." "An idea as kind as your heart, Mary," the king responded. "There! that momentous affair has come to a glorious conclusion. Ouf! we have had enough trouble with it; fortunately, more serious matters do not give us so much. And your dear uncles, Mary, are so willing to relieve me of all the burden of government! it is delightful! They do the writing, and I have only to sign my name, sometimes without even reading; so that my crown placed upon my royal couch would serve quite as well as I, if the whim should seize me to take a journey." "Do you not feel sure, Sire," asked Mary, "that my uncles will never have aught at heart save your interest and that of France?" "How can I help knowing it?" was the reply. "They tell me of it too often to give me any hope of forgetting it. For instance, it is the day for a meeting of the council to-day: and we shall see Monsieur le Cardinal de Lorraine come in with his deep humility and his overdone respect,--which do not always amuse me, I confess,--and shall hear him say in his soft voice, bowing at every word, 'Sire, the suggestion I have the honor to make to your Majesty is aimed only at maintaining the honor of your crown. Your Majesty cannot doubt the zeal for the glory of your reign and the welfare of your people by which we are animated. Sire, the splendor of the throne and of the Church is the only end,' etc." "How perfectly you imitate him!" cried Mary, laughing and clapping her hands. But in a more serious tone she continued,--