arry the king!"

"There lies the best hope for the future. We see in you a second Jeanne
d'Arc, who will save both France and France's king."

Madame sat silent for a few moments. Her face had regained its
composure, and her eyes were bent vacantly upon her tapestry frame as
she turned over in her mind all that was involved in the suggestion.

"But surely--surely this could never be," she said at last, "Why should
we plan that which can never come to pass?"

"And why?"

"What King of France has married a subject? See how every princess of
Europe stretches out her hand to him. The Queen of France must be of
queenly blood, even as the last was."

"All this may be overcome."

"And then there are the reasons of state. If the king marry, it should
be to form a powerful alliance, to cement a friendship with a neighbour
nation, or to gain some province which may be the bride's dowry.
What is my dowry? A widow's pension and a work-box." She laughed
bitterly, and yet glanced eagerly at her companions, as one who wished
to be confuted.

"Your dowry, my daughter, would be those gifts of body and of mind with
which heaven has endowed you. The king has money enough, and the king
has provinces enough. As to the state, how can the state be better
served than by the assurance that the king will be saved in future from
such sights as are to be seen in this palace to-day?"

"Oh, if it could be so! But think, father, think of those about him--
the dauphin, monsieur his brother, his ministers. You know how little
this would please them, and how easy it is for them to sway his mind.
No, no; it is a dream, father, and it can never be."

The faces of the two ecclesiastics, who had dismissed her other
objections with a smile and a wave, clouded over at this, as though she
had at last touched upon the real obstacle.

"My daughter," said the Jesuit gravely, "that is a matter which you may
leave to the Church. It may be that we, too, have some power over the
king's mind, and that we may lead him in the right path, even though
those of his own blood would fain have it otherwise. The future only
can show with whom the power lies. But you? Love and duty both draw
you one way now, and the Church may count upon you."

"To my last breath, father."

"And you upon the Church. It will serve you, if you in turn will but
serve it."

"What higher wish could I have?"

"You will be our daughter, our queen, our champion, and