“Ah, no, I refuse!”
Marie Antoinette prepared herself, with a fearfully-palpitating heart, for her last resource; but as she hesitated, Andrée said, “But, madame, tell me the name of the man who is willing to think of me as his companion for life.”
“M. de Charny,” said the queen, with an effort.
“M. de Charny?”——
“Yes, the nephew of M. de Suffren.”
“It is he!” cried Andrée, with burning cheeks, and sparkling eyes; “he consents——”
“He asks you in marriage.”
“Oh, I accept, I accept, for I love him.”
The queen became livid, and sank back trembling, whilst Andrée kissed her hands, bathing them with her tears. “Oh, I am ready,” murmured she.
“Come, then!” cried the queen, who felt as though her strength was failing her, with a last effort to preserve appearances.