All were silent.
M. de Crosne was really sad, and the count put on an affectation of it which might have solemnized Momus himself.
CHAPTER XXXV.
THE PRINCESS DE LAMBALLE.
The Princesse de Lamballe entered beautiful and calm. Her hair drawn back from her noble forehead, her dark penciled eyebrows, her clear blue eyes and beautiful lips, and her unrivaled figure, formed a lovely tout ensemble. She seemed always surrounded by an atmosphere of virtue and grace.
The king looked at her with a troubled expression, dreading what he was about to hear; then bowing, said, “Sit down, princess.”
“What does your majesty desire?” asked she, in a sweet voice.
“Some information, princess: what day did you last go with the queen to Paris?”
“Wednesday, sire.”
“Pardon me, cousin,” said Louis XVI.; “but I wish to know the exact truth.”
“You will never hear anything else from me, sire.”