“Oh! oh! oh!” and there was a crowd about her. She slipped it on her finger and was handed her nose-gay.
Whom would she choose? There were eager eyes and indrawn breaths, smiles that asked in wordless language, young men crowding nearer.
She went over to Denys. “You always were my king,” she said in a low, sweet tone that touched him immeasurably. “I am glad to give you the royal signet, a rose.”
Gaspard Denys bowed like a young courtier.
“You know I must have done it besides my own desire,” she whispered. “There would have been quarrels and heart burnings.”
“Yes,” nodding that he understood.
“Ma’m’selle Renée, that is hardly fair,” declared an aggrieved one. “There are so many young men——”
“And other queens, and a room full of pretty girls. I will give you one dance.”
His face lighted up with joy.
“It will end by a marriage, mark my words,” said the mother of three daughters.