"Yes; will it be as Count Fenix?"
"My title will be Count Joseph Balsamo."
"I shall not forget it, Balsamo," repeated the favorite as the mysterious stranger was merged with the crowd.
[CHAPTER XXIV.]
THE DAUPHINESS' RECEPTION.
On the following day, Compiegne was intoxicated and transported. The people had not slept through the night from getting ready to welcome the bride of the prince royal.
Latin, French, and German inscriptions adorned the evergreen arches, wound with garlands of roses and lilac.
The royal prince had come down in the night incog,
with his two brothers, and they had ridden out to meet the princess from Austria. The gallant idea had not come to the dauphin of his own impulse, but from his tutor, Lord Lavauguyon, who had been instructed by the king on the proper line of conduct to be followed by the heir to the throne. Previous sovereigns had also taken this kind of preliminary view of the fated spouse, without the veil of etiquette.
The eldest prince rode out, grave, and his two brothers, smiling. At half after eight, they came back; the dauphin serious as when he started, Provence almost sulky, and Artois gayer than at the outset. The first was disquieted, the second envious, and the last delighted—for all had found the lady most lovely. Thus each betrayed his temperament.