She had discarded the sombre widow's dress which she had chosen since her first coming to court, and wore now, as more in keeping with her lofty prospects, a rich yet simple costume of white satin with bows of silver serge.

A single diamond sparkled in the thick coils of her dark tresses.

The change had taken years from a face and figure which had always looked much younger than her age, and as the two plotters looked upon her perfect complexion, her regular features, so calm and yet so full of refinement, and the exquisite grace of her figure and bearing, they could not but feel that if they failed in their ends, it was not for want of having a perfect tool at their command.
She had risen at their entrance, and her expression showed that she had read upon their faces something of the anxiety which filled their minds.
"You have evil news!" she cried.
"No, no, my daughter." It was the bishop who spoke.

"But we must be on our guard against our enemies, who would turn the king away from you if they could." Her face shone at the mention of her lover.
"Ah, you do not know!" she cried.

"He has made a vow.