l in keeping the promise which he had himself
exacted from her, unless, indeed, Louis was a despot who enforced love
as he enforced obedience; unless, too, the king were so indifferent
that the first obstacle in his way was sufficient to arrest his further
progress. The king, that kind protector, who by a word, a single
word, could relieve her distress of mind, the king even joined her
persecutors. Oh! his anger could not possibly last. Now that he was
alone, he would be suffering all that she herself was a prey to. But he
was not tied hand and foot as she was; he could act, could move about,
could come to her, while she could do nothing but wait. And the poor
girl waited and waited, with breathless anxiety--for she could not
believe it possible that the king would not come.

It was now about half-past ten. He would either come to her, or write to
her, or send some kind word by M. de Saint-Aignan. If he were to come,
oh! how she would fly to meet him; how she would thrust aside that
excess of delicacy which she now discovered was misunderstood; how
eagerly she would explain: "It is not I who do not love you--it is the
fault of others who will not allow me to love you." And then it must be
confessed that she reflected upon it, and also the more she reflected,
Louis appeared to her to be less guilty. In fact, he was ignorant of
everything. What must he have thought of the obstinacy with which she
remained silent? Impatient and irritable as the king was known to be, it
was extraordinary that he had been able to preserve his temper so long.
And yet, had it been her own case, she undoubtedly would not have acted
in such a manner; she would have understood--have guessed everything.
Yes, but she was nothing but a poor simple-minded girl, and not a
great and powerful monarch. Oh! if he would but come, if he would but
come!--how eagerly she would forgive him for all he had just made her
suffer! how much more tenderly she would love him because she had so
cruelly suffered! And so she sat, with her head bent forward in eager
expectation towards the door, her lips slightly parted, as if--and
Heaven forgive her for the mental exclamation!--they were awaiting the
kiss which the king's lips had in the morning so sweetly indicated, when
he pronounced the word _love!_ If the king did not come, at least he
would write; it was a second chance; a chance less delightful certainly
than the other, but which would show an affection just as stro