“I can scarcely stand, and if your majesty permits——”
“Indeed you look ill, mademoiselle,” said the count.
“You must go to bed,” said the queen. “M. le Comte gives us up this room; do you not, Charles?”
“Entirely, madame.”
“One moment, count. If you go away, how can we recall you?”
“You will not need me; you are mistress of this house.”
“But there are other rooms.”
“Certainly, there is a dining-room, which I advise you to visit.”
“With a table ready spread, no doubt.”
“Oh, yes, and Mademoiselle de Taverney, who seems to me to need it much, will find there jellies or chicken, and wine, and you, sister, plenty of those fruits you are so fond of.”