And the King seated himself upon the roomy sofa, by the side of the Marchioness, whose rosy finger-tips he kissed with an infinity of grace. Then taking up one of the oranges that he had admired, he proceeded leisurely to examine it.
"But," said he at length, "what are oranges doing by the side of your Chinese powder-box and your scent bottles? Is there any connection between this fruit and the maintenance—easy as it is, Marchioness—of your charms?"
"These oranges," replied the lady, gravely, "fulfilled just now, Sire, the functions of destiny."
The King opened wide his eyes, and stroked the long ears of his dog, by way of giving the Marchioness time to explain her meaning.
"It was the Countess who gave them to me," she continued.
"Madame Dubarry?"
"Exactly so, Sire."
"A trumpery gift, it seems to me, Marchioness."
"I hold it, on the contrary, to be an important one; since I repeat to your Majesty, that these oranges decide my fate."
"I give it up," said the King.