He had turned to her whenever he needed support, and even when, as in the last week, he had broken away from her for a time, it was still all-important to him to know that she was there, the faithful friend, ever forgiving, ever soothing, waiting for him with her ready counsel and sympathy.

But that she should leave him now, leave him altogether, such a thought had never occurred to him, and it struck him with a chill of surprised alarm.
"You cannot mean it, Francoise," he cried, in a trembling voice.
"No, no, it is impossible that you are in earnest." "It would break my heart to leave you, sire, but it breaks it also to think that for my sake you are estranged from your own family and ministers." "Tut! Am I not the king?
Shall I not take my own course without heed to them?
No, no, Francoise, you must not leave me! You must stay with me and be my wife." He could hardly speak for agitation, and he still grasped at her dress to detain her.

She had been precious to him before, but was far more so now that there seemed to be a possibility of his losing her.

She felt the strength of her position, and used it to the utmost.
"Some time must elapse before our wedding, sire.

Yet during all that interval you will be exposed to these annoyances.