“Yes, the wedded wife of the right hand,” said her brother, quietly; “but the king, like every other mortal, has two hands; and he has a privilege which other mortals have not—the privilege of wedding a wife on the left hand.”
“Impossible, quite impossible, as long as the wife of the right hand lives!” exclaimed Julie.
“Of that, the consistory of church matters is alone competent to decide,” replied her brother, with composure; “or rather, I expressed myself badly, the consistory has only a deliberative voice; and the decision rests with the king alone, who, in our country, represents the church, and is its head—the evangelical pope. It is his province to say whether such a marriage of the left hand is possible, notwithstanding a marriage of the right hand. Demand it of him; make it a condition. Remember the words which the beautiful Gabrielle said to Henry the Fourth, when he inspected her dwelling, and asked the lady he adored, ‘Which is the way to your chamber?’ ‘Sire,’ she replied, ‘the way to my chamber goes through the church.’ Remember this when you speak to the king.”
“Be assured, I will remember it,” cried Julie, with glowing cheeks, and a proud, joyous smile. “I will make my conditions; and only when the king fulfils them will I be his, and—”
“And, why do you pause, and why is your face crimsoned with blushes all at once? Ah! you hear an equipage rolling up the avenue, and your tender heart says the king, your future husband, is approaching. Yes, my beautiful sister,” continued her brother, as he stepped to the window and looked out; “yes, it is the king. Now prepare yourself, my wise and discreet Julie; prepare to give your royal lover a worthy reception. For, of course, you will receive him? And I may tell—I may tell his majesty that you welcome his visit joyfully?”
“No, oh no,” murmured the maid of honor, with trembling lips. “I am not prepared; I am not composed; I cannot receive the king now!”
“No childishness,” said her brother, severely. “You will have sufficient time to compose yourself. The king must first pay his respects to the widowed queen, and the visit of condolence will last at least a quarter of an hour. I must now leave you; but remember that the fortunes of your family, and of the whole country, are in your hands, and act accordingly!”
He left the room hastily, without awaiting a reply, and went down to the grand audience-chamber, where the courtiers and cavaliers were assembled. The king had already retired with the widowed queen to her library.
On entering the chamber, he immediately walked up to his intimate acquaintance, Bischofswerder, the newly-created colonel, who had accompanied the king to Schönhausen.
“It will succeed,” said he, in a low voice, “our great ends will be attained; we will conquer our enemies, and secure dominion for ourselves and the invisible fathers. My sister loves the king, but she has been virtuously reared, and would rather renounce the king and her love, than sacrifice her moral principles.”