“I vouch for it,” said Paul Jones.
“Your Majesty,” said the Duke, turning to the King, but he got no help there.
“If you will give your consent, Duke,” said Louis, “I shall not withhold mine. Indeed, under the circumstances—”He paused significantly.
The Duke groaned and the gracious Queen came to our rescue again.
“Monsieur le Duc,” she said, stepping near him and laying her hand on his arm, “think! Monsieur Burnham is a gallant gentleman. As good blood as any in France flows in his veins. In America they have no kings, but they are all princes. His Majesty in his kindness consents. This will cement the union between the two countries against England, which is so dear to think of. Will you sacrifice your pride if I ask you, and bless the pair who love each other?”
“Madame, it is as you will,” he faltered. “I had cherished other dreams. Still, there can be no higher degree than that of gentleman, after all. No, though he sit upon a throne.”
“The royalty of virtue, the royalty of honor, the royalty of courage,” said Dr. Franklin kindly, “make this marriage not an unequal one.”
“I am an old man,” continued the Duke; “this has been hard on me. Let the young love have its way.”
“And you will forgive me?” pleaded Mademoiselle, approaching him nearer.
“Your Majesty will permit me?” asked the Duke. He took her in his arms and pressed a kiss upon her forehead and blessed her.