"You see that I am eating the orange."
"But—"
"It was of no manner of use to us."
"You have decided then?"
"Unquestionably. Monsieur de Menneval loves you better than Monsieur de Beaugency."
"That is not quite certain yet; let us wait."
"Look," said the King, pointing to the valet, who entered with a note from the Marquis, "You'll soon see."
The widow opened the note, and read:
"Madam, I love you—Heaven is my witness; and to give you up is the most cruel of sacrifices. But I am a gentleman. A gentleman belongs to the King. My life, my blood are his. I cannot, without forfeit of my loyalty, abandon his service——."
"Et cetera," chimed in the King, "as was observed by the Abbé Fleury, my tutor. Marchioness, call in Monsieur de Menneval."