“Oh, yes; are you making a voyage of discovery in the place?”
“I am going to join her Royal Highness, the Dauphiness, whom I am in attendance,” replied Andrea more and more agitated.
“I will see you to her,” said the King, “for I am going to my grand-daughter-in-law to pay her a call like a country neighbor. So, kindly accept my arm.”
Andrea felt her sight dimmed and her blood boiling up in her heart. Like a dream appeared this honor to the impoverished nobleman’s daughter, to be on the arm of the lord overall—a glory despaired of, an incredible favor which the whole court would covet. She made a profound courtesy so religiously shrinking that the King was obliged to return it with a bow. When Louis XV. remembered his sire, he did so in ceremonious matters: it is true that French royal attentions to the fair sex dated back to King Harry Fourth of gallant memory.
Though the King was not fond of walking, he took the longest way round to the Trianon: the two guards officers in attendance saw this as they were not any too warmly clad.
They arrived late as the Dauphiness had started, not to keep her lord and master waiting. They, too, were at the table, with Lady Noailles, nicknamed, “Lady Stickler,” so rigid about etiquet was she, and the Duke of Richelieu in attendance, when the servant’ voices echoed through the house:
“The King!”
At this magic word, Lady Noailles jumped up as if worked by a spring; Richelieu rose leisurely as usual; the Dauphin wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood up in his place, with his face turned to the door.
The Dauphiness moved towards the door to meet the visitor the sooner and do him the honors of the house.
Louis was still holding Andrea by the hand and only at the landing did he release her, saluting her with so long and courteous a bow that Richelieu had time to notice the grace of it, and wonder to what happy mortal it was addressed.