I thought you confessed to our learned brother, that pillar of theology, that light of the Church, who will be a cardinal some day, and that you obtained absolution from him, and perhaps, at the same time, advice." Henri took his brother's hand affectionately.

"You are more than a confessor to me, my dear Anne--more than a father; you are my friend." "Then, my friend, why, from so gay as you used to be, have I seen you become sad?
and why, instead of going out by day, do you only go out at night ?" "My brother, I am not sad." "What, then ?" "In love." "Good! And this preoccupation ?" "Is because I am always thinking of my love." "And you sigh in saying that ?" "Yes." "You sigh ?--you, Henri, comte de Bouchage ?--you, the brother of Joyeuse ?--you, whom some people call the third king in France?
You know M.de Guise is the second, if not the first; but you, rich and handsome, who will be peer and duke on the first occasion, are in love, and you sigh!--you, whose device is 'hilariter.'" "My dear Anne, I have never reckoned the gifts of fortune, past and to come, as things to constitute happiness; I have no ambitions." "That is to say, you have not at present." "At all events, not for the things you speak of." "Not just now, perhaps, but later you will return to them." "Never, brother; I desire nothing--I want nothing." "You are wrong.

When one is called 'Joyeuse,' one of the best names in France, when one has a brother a king's favorite, one desires everything, and has everything." Henri hung his blond head sadly.
"Come," continued Anne, "we are quite alone here; have you anything to tell me ?" "Nothing, but that I love." "Diable! that is not a very serious affair; I also am in love." "Not like me, brother." "I, also, think sometimes of my mistress." "Yes, but not always." "I, also, have annoyances." "Yes; but you also have joys, for you are loved." "True; but I have obstacles.

They exact from me so much mystery." "They exact! If your mistress exacts, she loves you." "Yes, she loves me and M.de Mayenne--or rather only me, for she would give up Mayenne at once if she was not afraid he would kill her; it is his habit to kill women, you know.

I am obliged to be constantly on my guard, but I do not grow sad on that account; I continue to laugh--at least, sometimes.