Anne was mollified.
"Would you not like a husband, rich and handsome?" she asked, trying to provoke the flattery of the other's envy.
"I?" asked Rénèe, in genuine surprise. "Who will ever marry me?"
Anne smiled.
"Perhaps some day I shall find some one for you. How old are you?"
"Twenty-five, Your Grace."
"That is not very young! Nearly ten years older than I am! Is it not very fine to be married at sixteen? Would you not like to be married soon?"
"I would never marry any but a Lutheran," replied Rénèe calmly.
Anne flushed, and her bright eyes flashed with amazing fury.
"Ah! You, too, dare to blame me because the Prince is a Papist!" she exclaimed.