but adding, with curiosity, "You have brought something to give me, but I warn you I shall not believe you, unless you show it me at once."
Then, with a smile full of kindness, the king began searching in his pockets, with that slowness which makes the child doubly impatient for his toy, the animal for his food, and the woman for her present: at last he drew out a box of red morocco leather, artistically ornamented in gold.
"A jewel box!" cried the queen.
The king laid it on the bed.
She opened it impatiently, and then called out, "Oh, mon Dieu! how beautiful!"
The king smiled with delight. "Do you think so?" said he.
The queen could not answer – she was breathless with admiration. Then she drew out of the box a necklace of diamonds, so large, so pure, so glittering, and so even, that, with sparkling eyes, she cried again, "Oh! it is magnificent."
"Then you are content?" said the king.
"Enchanted, sire; you make me too happy."
"Really?"
"See this first row; the diamonds are as large as filberts, and so even, you could not tell one from the other; then how beautifully the gradation of the rows is managed; the jeweler who made this necklace is an artist."
"They are two."
"Then I wager it is Bœhmer and Bossange."
"You have guessed right."
"Indeed, no one but they would risk making such a thing."
"Madame, take care," said the king; "you will have to pay too dear for this necklace."
"Oh, sire!" cried the queen, all the delight fading from her countenance.
"You must pay the price of letting me be the first to put it on: " and he approached her, holding in his hands the two ends of the magnificent necklace, of which the clasp was one great diamond.
She stopped him, saying, "But, sire, is it very dear?"
"Have I not told you the price?"
"Ah, Louis, we must not jest. Put the necklace back again."
"You refuse to allow me to put it on?"
"Oh no, sire, if I were going to wear it."
"What?" said the king, surprised.
"No," she said; "no one shall see a necklace of this price round my neck."
"You will not wear it?"
"Never."
"You refuse me."
"I refuse to wear a million or a million and a half of francs round my neck, for this necklace must cost that."
"I do not deny it," said the king.
"Then I do refuse to wear such a necklace while the king's coffers are empty, when he is forced to stint his charities, and to say to the poor, 'God help you, for I have no more to give.'"
"Are you serious in saying this?"
"Listen, sire; M. de Sartines told me a short time since that with that sum we could build a ship of the line; and in truth, sire, the king has more need of a ship than the queen of a necklace."
"Oh!" cried the king, joyfully, and with his eyes full of tears, "what you do is sublime. Thanks, Antoinette; you are a good wife!" and he threw his arms round her neck and kissed her. "Oh! how France will bless you," continued he; "and it shall hear what you have done."
The queen sighed.
"You regret," said he: "it is not too late."
"No, sire; shut this case, and return it to the jewelers."
"But listen, first; I have arranged the terms of payment, and I have the money."
"No, I have decided. I will not have the necklace; but I want something else."
"Diable! then my 1,600,000 francs are gone, after all."
"What! it would have cost that?"
"Indeed it would."
"Reassure yourself; what I ask is much cheaper."
"What do you wish for?"
"To go to Paris once more."
"Oh! that is easy enough, and not dear."
"But wait – "
"Diable!"
"To the Place Vendôme, to see M. Mesmer."
"Diable!" again said the king; but added: "Well, as you have denied yourself the necklace, I suppose I must let you go; but, on one condition."
"What?"
"You must be accompanied by a princess of the blood."
"Shall it be Madame de Lamballe?"
"Yes, if you like."
"I promise."
"Then I consent."
"Thanks, sire."
"And, now," said the king, "I shall order my ship of the line, and call it the 'Queen's Necklace.' You shall stand godmother, and then I will send it out to La Pérouse;" and, kissing his wife's hand, he went away quite joyful.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE QUEEN'S PETITE LEVEE
No sooner was the king gone than the queen rose, and went to the window. The morning was lovely, and had the charming feeling of the commencement of spring, while the sun seemed almost warm. The wind had gone round to the west, and if it remained in that quarter this terrible winter was probably at an end.
The snow was beginning to drip from the trees, under the influence of this genial morning.
"If we wish to profit by the ice," cried the queen, "I believe we must make haste; for look, Madame de Misery, the spring seems to have begun. I much wish to make up a party on the Swiss lake, and will go to-day, for to-morrow it may be too late."
"Then at what hour will your majesty wish to dress?"
"Immediately; I will breakfast and then go."
"Are there any other orders, madame?"
"See if Madlle. de Taverney has risen, and tell her I wish to speak to her."
"She is already waiting for you in the boudoir, madame."
"Already?" said the queen, who knew at what time she had gone to bed.
"She has been there for twenty minutes, madame."
"Ask her to come in."
Andrée soon entered, dressed with her usual care, and smiling, though rather
