“I swear to save your majesty, or be lost myself.”
“My lord, my lord, you speak vainly. Leave me. You cannot save me, and would involve yourself in ruin. Rise, sir, rise!”
He immediately obeyed, and stood humbly before her.
“Well, my lord?”
“I will save your majesty.”
She turned hopelessly away, but the next moment she was smiling cheerfully, as Elvira, holding a white lace veil in her hand, came running up to her companion of so many pleasant weeks.
“Am I not charming? Am I not as white as snow? Am I not like a lily? Ah, ah! This is my wedding dress; and my hair, Signor Arthur, is perfumed with the roses thou hast brought me; and on my neck are the pearls thou gavest me.”
They both praised her and her dress, but the young coquette kept her eyes upon the veil.
“Madame Henrietta, dost love me?”
“Does a mother love her child?”