very moment I sent for you."

De Guiche gravely drew from his pocket the now crumpled note that he had
written, and showed it to her.

"Sympathy," she said.

"Yes," said the comte, with an indescribable tenderness of tone,
"sympathy. I have explained to you how and why I sought you; you,
however, have yet to tell me, Madame, why you sent for me."

"True," replied the princess. She hesitated, and then suddenly
exclaimed, "Those bracelets will drive me mad."

"You expected the king would offer them to you," replied De Guiche.

"Why not?"

"But before you, Madame, before you, his sister-in-law, was there not the
queen herself to whom the king should have offered them?"

"Before La Valliere," cried the princess, wounded to the quick, "could he
not have presented them to me? Was there not the whole court, indeed, to
choose from?"

"I assure you, Madame," said the comte, respectfully, "that if any one
heard you speak in this manner, if any one were to see how red your eyes
are, and, Heaven forgive me, to see, too, that tear trembling on your
eyelids, it would be said that your royal highness was jealous."