On our return from the chateau, while our resolution was yet firm, we went laughing to the King. He asked the reason of our gaiety. My sister said with her wonted ease, “Sire, I have come to invite you to my daughter’s wedding.”
“Your daughter? Don’t you think I am able to get her properly married?” cried the King.
“Sire, you cannot do it better than I can myself. I am giving her a sovereign as husband, a sovereign in every sense of the term.”
It seemed to me the King flushed slightly as he rejoined, “A sovereign on his feet, or a sovereign overthrown?”
“How do you mean, Sire?” said my sister.
“Madame de Thianges,” replied the King, “pray, let us be friends. I was informed two days ago of the proposals of the Messieurs de Lorraine; it is not, yet time to give them a definite reply. It behoves, me to give your daughter in marriage, and I have destined her for the Duc de Nevers, who is wealthy, and my friend.”
“The Duc de Nevers!” cried my sister; “why, he’s cracked for six months in the year.”
“Those who are cracked for a whole twelvemonth deserve far more pity,” replied the King.
Then, turning to me, he observed, “You make no remark, madame? Does your niece’s coronation provide you also with illusions?”
I easily perceived that we had been cherishing an utterly fantastic scheme, and I counselled Madame de Thianges to prefer to please the King; and, as she was never able to control her feelings, she sharply replied, “Madame la Marquise, good day or good night!”