"spare us this grief--spare us this humiliation!
I implore you to pause before you do what will bring dishonour upon
yourself and upon us!"

The king started back from him, and paced angrily up and down the room.

"This is intolerable!" he cried. "It was bad from my brother, but worse
from my son. You are in a conspiracy with him, Louis. Monsieur has
told you to act this part."

The dauphin rose to his feet and looked steadfastly at his angry father.

"I have not seen my uncle," he said. "I was at Meudon when I heard this
news--this dreadful news--and I sprang upon my horse, sire, and galloped
over to implore you to think again before you drag our royal house so
low."

"You are insolent, Louis."

"I do not mean to be so, sire. But consider, sire, that my mother was a
queen, and that it would be strange indeed if for a step-mother I had
a--"

The king raised his hand with a gesture of authority which checked the
word upon his lips.

"Silence!" he cried, "or you may say that which would for ever set a
gulf between us. Am I to be treated worse than my humblest subject, who
is allowed to follow his own bent in his private affairs?"

"This is not your own private affair, sire; all that you do reflects
upon your family. The great deeds of your reign have given a new glory
to the name of Bourbon. Oh, do not mar it now, sire! I implore it of
you upon my bended knees!"

"You talk like a fool!" cried his father roughly. "I propose to marry a
virtuous and charming lady of one of the oldest noble families of
France, and you talk as if I were doing something degrading and unheard
of. What is your objection to this lady?"

"That she is the daughter of a man whose vices were well known, that her
brother is of the worst repute, that she has led the life of an
adventuress, is the widow of a deformed scribbler, and that she occupies
a menial position in the palace."

The king had stamped with his foot upon the carpet more than once during
this frank address, but his anger blazed into a fury at its conclusion.

"Do you dare," he cried, with flashing eyes, "to call the charge of my
children a menial position? I say that there is no higher in the
kingdom. Go back to Meudon, sir, this instant, and never dare to open
your mouth again on the subject. Away, I say! When, in God's good
time, you are king of this country, you may claim your own way, but
until then do not venture to cross the plans of one who is both y