"Don't be afraid," said Mary, in an undertone to her young husband, who was beginning to sulk; "when she isn't looking, I will give it you again."
The king laughed beneath his beard.
"You are very strict, my Lady; but then you are quite right," he added, checking himself. "And you, Messire Amyot, you are not dissatisfied with your pupils, I trust. Pay great regard to the words of your learned preceptor, young gentlemen, for he is on intimate terms with the great heroes of antiquity. Messire Amyot, is it long since you have heard from Pierre Danot, who was our old master, and from Henri Étienne, our fellow-pupil?"
"The old man and the young one are both well, Sire, and will be very proud and happy to know that your Majesty has deigned to remember them."
"Well, children," said the king, "I wanted to see you before the ceremony, and am very glad that I have seen you. Now, Diane, I am at your service, my dear, so come with me."
Diane bowed low and followed the king from the room.
CHAPTER VI
DIANE DE CASTRO
Diane de Castro, whose acquaintance we made when she was yet a mere child, was now almost eighteen years old. Her beauty had fulfilled all its promise, and had developed in regularity and charm at the same time; the predominant expression of her sweet and lovely face was one of childlike openness and honesty. Diane de Castro in character and in mind was still the child whom we first knew. She was not yet thirteen when the Duc de Castro, whom she had never seen since the day she was married to him, had been killed at the siege of Hesdin. The king had sent the child-widow to pass her mourning period at the convent of the Filles-Dieu at Paris; and Diane had found such warm affection and such pleasant customs there that she had asked her father's permission to remain with the kind sisters and her companions until he should be ready to make some other disposition of her. One could but respect such a devout request; and Henri had not taken Diane from the convent until about a month before, when the Constable de Montmorency, jealous of the preponderance acquired by the Guises in the government, had solicited and obtained for his son the hand of the daughter of the king and his favorite.
During the mouth she had passed at court, Diane had not failed at once to attract universal respect and admiration. "For," says Brantôme, in his work on famous women, "she was very kind, and did nothing to offend anybody; and yet her spirit was very noble and high, and she was very obliging and discreet, and most virtuous." But her virtue, which shone forth so pure and lovely amid the general wickedness of the time, was entirely free from any touch of austerity or harshness. One day some man remarked in her hearing that a daughter of France ought to be valiant and strong, and that her shyness smacked somewhat of the cloister, whereupon she learned to ride in a very few days, and there was no cavalier who was so fearless and dashing a rider as she. After that she always went with the king to the chase; and Henri yielded more and more to her charming way of seeking, without the least pretence for any occasion, however trifling, of anticipating his wishes and making herself agreeable to him. So Diane was granted the privilege of entering her father's apartments whenever she chose, and she was always sure of a welcome. Her touching grace, her modest ways, and the odor of sweet maidenliness and innocence which one seemed to breathe when she was near, even to her smile, which was the least bit sad, combined to make her perhaps the most exquisite and ravishing figure of that whole court, which could boast of so many dazzling beauties.