rp tread, crisp
and authoritative, which brought her to her feet with flushed cheeks and
her heart beating wildly. The door opened, and she saw outlined against
the gray light of the outer passage the erect and graceful figure of the
king.

"Sire! One instant, and mademoiselle will light the lamp."

"Do not call her." He entered and closed the door behind him.
"Francoise, the dusk is welcome to me, because it screens me from the
reproaches which must lie in your glance, even if your tongue be too
kindly to speak them."

"Reproaches, sire! God forbid that I should utter them!"

"When I last left you, Francoise, it was with a good resolution in my
mind. I tried to carry it out, and I failed--I failed. I remember that
you warned me. Fool that I was not to follow your advice!"

"We are all weak and mortal, sire. Who has not fallen? Nay, sire, it
goes to my heart to see you thus."

He was standing by the fireplace, his face buried in his hands, and she
could tell by the catch of his breath that he was weeping. All the pity
of her woman's nature went out to that silent and repenting figure dimly
seen in the failing light. She put out her hand with a gesture of
sympathy, and it rested for an instant upon his velvet sleeve. The next
he had clasped it between his own, and she made no effort to release it.

"I cannot do without you, Francoise," he cried. "I am the loneliest man
in all this world, like one who lives on a great mountain-peak, with
none to bear him company. Who have I for a friend? Whom can I rely
upon? Some are for the Church; some are for their families; most are
for themselves. But who of them all is single-minded? You are my
better self, Francoise; you are my guardian angel. What the good
father says is true, and the nearer I am to you the further am I from
all that is evil. Tell me, Francoise, do you love me?"

"I have loved you for years, sire." Her voice was low but clear--the
voice of a woman to whom coquetry was abhorrent.

"I had hoped it, Francoise, and yet it thrills me to hear you say it.
I know that wealth and title have no attraction for you, and that your
heart turns rather towards the convent than the palace. Yet I ask you
to remain in the palace, and to reign there. Will you be my wife,
Francoise?"

And so the moment had in very truth come. She paused for an instant,
only an instant, before taking this last great step; but even that was
too long for the patience