"Brother!" exclaimed Marguerite, throwing her arms about Charles's neck.
"So dress yourself, dear Marguerite," said the King, "hide your pallor and come to the ball. I have given orders for new jewels to be brought to you, and ornaments worthy of your beauty."
"Oh! what are diamonds and dresses to me now?" said Marguerite.
"Life is long, Marguerite," said Charles, smiling, "at least for you."
The pages withdrew; Gillonne alone remained.
"Prepare everything that is necessary for me, Gillonne," said Marguerite.
"Sister, remember one thing: sometimes it is by stifling or rather by dissimulating our suffering that we show most honor to the dead."
"Well, sire," said Marguerite, shuddering, "I will go to the ball."
A tear, which soon dried on his parched eyelid, moistened Charles's eye.
He leaned over his sister, kissed her forehead, paused an instant before Henriette, who had neither seen nor heard him, and murmured: