There was an absence of the flash of
jewels and color which make court life attractive.
There seemed to be hanging in the air some invisible power, the
forecast of a tragedy, the beginning of an unknown end. And yet
the prelate smiled on enemies and friends alike. As Maurice
observed that smile he grew perplexed. It was a smile such as he
had seen on the faces of men who, about to die, felt the grim
satisfaction of having an enemy for company. The king lay on his
death bed, in all probabilities the throne tottered; yet the
archbishop smiled.
The princess did not know that her father was dying; this was a
secret which had not yet been divulged to her. And this was the
only society she knew. Small wonder that she was sad and lonely.
To be young, and to find one's self surrounded by the relics of
youth; what an existence! She had never known the beauty of a
glittering ballroom, felt the music of a waltz mingle with the
quick throbs of the heart, the pleasure of bestowing pleasure.
She had never read the mute yet intelligent admiration in a
young man's eyes. And what young woman does not yearn for the
honest adoration of an honest man? Poor, lonely princess indeed.
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