d at
them, and almost immediately passed them on to Madame. The latter, and
even more minutely, Monsieur, gave the bracelets a long look of anxious
and almost covetous desire. She then handed the jewels to those ladies
who were near her, pronouncing this single word, but with an accent
which was worth a long phrase, "Magnificent!"

The ladies who had received the bracelets from Madame's hands looked at
them as long as they chose to examine them, and then made them circulate
by passing them on towards the right. During this time the king was
tranquilly conversing with De Guiche and Fouquet, rather passively
letting them talk than himself listening. Accustomed to the set form
of ordinary phrases, his ear, like that of all men who exercise
an incontestable superiority over others, merely selected from the
conversations held in various directions the indispensable word which
requires reply. His attention, however, was now elsewhere, for it
wandered as his eyes did.

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 had only Montalais and La Valliere near 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, for the time, of 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 on 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 can never, by any
possibility, be ours?"

The king, his head bent forward, was listening to what Louise 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 plac