“Devoted until death,” replied he.
“But,” said Marie Antoinette, with a smile, “at present it is a question not of death, but of ruin; and I do not wish you devoted even so far. You shall live, and not be ruined, at least, not by me; for they say you are ruining yourself.”
“Madame!”
“Oh! that is your own business; only, as a friend, I would counsel you to be economical—the king would like you better.”
“I would become a miser to please your majesty.”
“Oh, the king,” replied she, with an accent on the word, “does not love misers either.”
“I will become whatever your majesty desires,” replied he, with a hardly-disguised passion.
“I said, then,” continued she, “that you shall not be ruined for me. You have advanced money on my account, and I have the means of meeting the calls; therefore, regard the affair for the future as in my hands.”
“To finish it, then, it only remains for me to offer the necklace to your majesty;” and drawing out the case, he presented it to her.
She took it, but did not open it, and laid it down by her side. She received kindly all his polite speeches, but as she was longing to be left alone with her diamonds, she began to answer somewhat absently.