THE SEVEN STUDIOUS SISTERS
THE SEVEN STUDIOUS SISTERS
His Majesty the King was in a terrible state of mind. Leaning back, speechless, upon his throne, with his crown over one ear, his fists clenched, he strove in vain to speak, but only an inarticulate gurgling made its way from the royal throat. Behind him stood his Jester, merry in cap and bells; on the right, the court philosophers, with puckered brows and sagely folded arms; and all about knights-at-arms and ladies-in-waiting silent and dismayed.
Before the King, on the lowest step of the throne, almost under the gold-brocaded canopy, knelt, with clasped hands and beseeching eyes, Sylvie, Natalie, Amelie, Virginie, Sidonie, Dorothée, and Clementine, the seven beautiful daughters of old Count Benoît of Verdennes, all badly frightened, but intrepid.
"Speak!" thundered the King at last. "No, do not speak! Every word will be used against you!"
"Your Majesty," began Sylvie, who was the eldest and had black hair, "we came to beg,"—
"With great earnestness," continued Natalie, who had brown hair,—