"It is true," replied the king; "but this marriage, contracted clandestinely, without the constable's consent and mine, is rightfully void; and if the Pope decrees a divorce, you certainly, Diane, will not show yourself more exacting than his Holiness. So if this is your only reason—"
"But there is another, dear Father."
"And what is it, pray? How can an alliance which would be esteemed an honor by the highest-born and wealthiest heiresses in France work ill to you?"
"Why, Father, because—because I love some one else," cried Diane, throwing herself, confused and weeping, into her father's arms.
"You love some one, Diane?" repeated Henri, amazed; "and what might be the name of this favored individual?"
"Gabriel, Sire."
"Gabriel what?" asked the king, smiling at her.
"I have no idea, Father."
"How can that be, Diane? In Heaven's name, explain yourself!"
"I will tell you everything, Sire. It is an attachment of my childhood's days. I used to see Gabriel every day He was so courteous and obliging and gallant and handsome and clever and affectionate! He used to call me his little wife. Ah, Sire, do not laugh; it was a very serious and holy sentiment, and the first that ever made its impression on my heart. Other attachments may take their places beside it, but can never destroy it. And yet I allowed myself to be married to the Duc Farnèse, Sire, but it was because I knew not what I did; because I was forced into it, and obeyed blindly like the little girl that I was. Since then I have lived and learned, and have come to understand of what treachery I was guilty to Gabriel. Poor Gabriel! when he left me he didn't shed a tear, but what unutterable sadness there was in the look he gave me! All this has come back to me with the happy memories of my childhood during the lonely years that I passed at the convent. And thus I have lived each of the years that I was with Gabriel twice over,—in fact and in fancy, in reality and in my dreams. And since I have returned to court here, Sire, I have seen among the accomplished gentlemen who surround you like another crown not one who can compare with Gabriel; and François, the obsequious son of the haughty constable, will never make me forget the proud and gentle companion of my young days. And so, dear Father, now that I realize what I did and its effect, I shall remain true to Gabriel so long as you leave me free."