"Not for the world, Monsieur de Lauzun," exclaims Mademoiselle hurriedly. "I am speaking to you strictly in confidence." Her countenance has fallen, and she has turned very white. Lauzun watches her under his eyelids, and enjoys her sufferings.
"Why should one so happy as your highness marry at all?" he adds, seeing that she does not speak.
"I am happy, certainly, if riches and royal birth can confer happiness," she replies thoughtfully; "but there are drawbacks, Monsieur de Lauzun. I wish to confer my wealth upon a worthy individual."
("Myself, for instance," says Lauzun to himself; "I shall be delighted to spend it; indeed, I intend to do so.")
"Many people," continues Mademoiselle, "at this very moment wish me dead in order to inherit it," and a sigh escapes her. "I am very lonely, Monsieur de Lauzun, very lonely." Her face assumes a melting expression, such as he had never seen on it before. What could she say to make him understand her? Thinking of this she sighs again very audibly. Lauzun knits his brows and affects to be lost in thought.
"That is a most serious consideration, your highness. I admit it had not before occurred to me. Permit me time to consider of it before I tender any further advice."
A thousand hopes rush into Mademoiselle's mind. "He understands me," she tells herself, "but my exalted position alarms him. He will propose to me when next we meet."
At this moment the Queen entered the withdrawing-room.