"I thank you, Maréchal de Bellefonds, and I thank the nobility of France whom you so worthily represent. I thank you from my heart," and Mademoiselle curtseys with royal grace. "No one is so well acquainted as myself with the merit of Monsieur de Lauzun," and she glances proudly at her future husband. "I accept with pleasure the sympathy of his friends."
Lauzun bends, and kisses the hand of his affianced wife.
Then the Maréchal de Charost steps forth from a glittering crowd of officers. Charost is a captain in the royal body-guard.
"I must also thank your highness for the honour you confer on the army of France. My post is now without price; for what would a soldier not give, what sacrifices would he not make, to become the brother-in-arms of the husband of your highness?"
A laugh follows this hearty outburst of enthusiasm. It is scarcely audible, but Mademoiselle instantly suppresses it with a frown. Lauzun is a sacred object in her eyes, and she permits no jests, however flattering, to mix with his name. Turning towards the Maréchal de Charost, she replies with haughty courtesy—
"I thank you, Maréchal, and, in your person I thank the brave army of his Majesty, my cousin."
Before this august company separates it is announced that the marriage contract is to be at once submitted to the King, Queen, the Dauphin, the Duc d'Orléans, and the princes of the blood-royal.
The marriage is to take place next day at Charenton, at the villa of the Marquise de Créqui. The Archbishop of Rheims is to officiate.