"Well?"
"I was going to say," continued the queen, laughing, "if the stone my brother spoke of be a fact, I should resist."
"Ah!" cried Henriette, "so you have chosen a Huguenot, have you? Well, to reassure your conscience, I promise you that I will choose one myself on the first opportunity."
"Ah, so you have chosen a Catholic, have you?"
"Mordi!" replied the duchess.
"I see, I see."
"And what is this Huguenot of yours?"
"I did not choose him. The young man is nothing and probably never will be anything to me."
"But what sort is he? You can tell me that; you know how curious I am about these matters."
"A poor young fellow, beautiful as Benvenuto Cellini's Nisus,—and he came and took refuge in my room."