Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente was the last of the ladies inscribed for tickets; and, as if she had ranked according to her name upon the list, she only had Montalais and La Valliere after her. When the bracelets reached these two latter, no one appeared to take any further notice of them. The humble hands which for a moment touched these jewels, deprived them of all their importance--a circumstance which did not, however, prevent Montalais from starting with joy, envy, and covetous desire, at the sight of the beautiful stones still more than at their magnificent workmanship. It is evident that if she were compelled to decide between the pecuniary value and the artistic beauty, Montalais would unhesitatingly have preferred diamonds to cameos, and her disinclination, therefore, to pass them to her companion, La Valliere, was very great. La Valliere fixed a look almost of indifference upon the jewels. "Oh, how beautiful, how magnificent these bracelets are!" exclaimed Montalais; "and yet you do not go into ecstasies about them, Louise! You are no true woman, I am sure." "Yes, I am indeed," replied the young girl, with an accent of the most charming melancholy; "but why desire that which cannot be ours?" The king, his head bent forward, listened to what the young girl was saying. Hardly had the vibration of her voice reached his ear than he rose radiant with delight, and passing across the whole assembly, from the place where he stood, to La Valliere, "You are mistaken, mademoiselle," he said; "you are a woman, and every woman has a right to wear jewels, which are a woman's property." "Oh, sire!" said La Valliere, "your majesty will not absolutely believe my modesty?" "I believe you possess every virtue, mademoiselle; frankness as well as every other; I entreat you, therefore, to say frankly what you think of these bracelets?" "That they are beautiful, sire, and cannot be offered to any other than a queen." "I am delighted that such is your opinion, mademoiselle; the bracelets are yours, and the king begs your acceptance of them." And as, with a movement almost resembling terror, La Valliere eagerly held out the casket to the king, the king gently pushed back La Valliere's trembling hand. A silence of astonishment, more profound than that of death, reigned in the assembly. And yet, from the side where the queens were, no one had heard what he had said, nor understood what he had done. A charitable friend, however, took upon herself to spread the news; it was Tonnay-Charente, to whom Madame had made a sign to approach. "Good heavens!" exclaimed Tonnay-Charente, "how happy that La Valliere is! the king has just given her the bracelets."