"Go to the maitre d'hotel, and tell him I must have salt mackerel for
dinner. And go to Madame de Beaujeu, and let her know that I wish to
dine alone to-day. Do you know, madame," continued the king,
pretending to be slightly angry, "that you neglect me? It is almost
three years since I have seen you. Come, come here, my pretty," he
added, sitting down and holding out his arms to her. "How thin you
have grown! Why have you let her grow so thin?" said the king,
roughly, addressing the Comte de Poitiers.
The jealous husband cast so frightened a look at his wife that she
almost pitied him.
"Happiness, sire!" he stammered.
"Ah! you love each other too much,--is that it?" said the king,
holding his daughter between his knees. "I did right to call you
Mary-full-of-grace. Coyctier, leave us! Now, then, what do you want
of me?" he said to his daughter the moment the doctor had gone. "After
sending me your--"
In this danger, Marie boldly put her hand on the king's lips and said
in his ear,--
"I always thought you cautious and penetrating.
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