I have said what I had to say--you know my decision." She bowed her head almost to the earth; motionless, kneeling at the foot of the king, her hands folded on her breast, she might in reality have been taken for an odalisque but that her sad, tearful face was not in unison with the situation or costume.
A long pause ensued--a solemn, fearful pause.

The king struggled with his rage, Louise with her disappointment and distress.

Sounds of laughter, the gay notes of music reached them from the dancing-saloon.
The ball had commenced, and youth and beauty were mingling in the dance.
These sounds aroused the king, and the sad contrast made Louise shudder.
"You will not, then, comply with my request ?" said the king, sternly.
"Sire, I cannot!" murmured Louise, raising her hands imploringly to the king.
"You cannot!" cried the king, whose face glowed with anger; "you cannot, that means you will not, because your vain, coquettish heart will not resign the love of the prince.

You submit to resign his hand, because you must; but you wish to retain his love: he must think of you as a heavenly ideal, to be adored and longed for, placed amongst the stars for worship.

Ah, madame, you are not willing to make the gulf between you impassable! You say you wish, at least, to retain the respect of Prince Henry.