"Poor woman!"
Then he went out silently.
Soon after several pages entered, bringing boxes and jewel-caskets.
Marguerite made a sign for them to set everything down.
Gillonne looked at her mistress in astonishment.
"Yes," said Marguerite, in a tone the bitterness of which it is impossible to describe; yes, I will dress and go to the ball; I am expected. Make haste; the day will then be complete. A fête on the Grève in the morning, a fête in the Louvre in the evening."
"And the duchess?" said Gillonne.
"She is quite happy. She may remain here; she can weep; she can suffer at her ease. She is not the daughter of a king, the wife of a king, the sister of a king. She is not a queen. Help me to dress, Gillonne."
The young girl obeyed. The jewels were magnificent, the dress gorgeous. Marguerite had never been so beautiful.
She looked at herself in a mirror.