mind, and she
knew his. Once his wife, she could hold him to good, and keep every
evil influence away from him. She was sure of it. She should be no
weak Maria Theresa, but rather, as the priest had said, a new Jeanne
d'Arc, come to lead France and France's king into better ways. And if,
to gain this aim, she had to harden her heart against the Huguenots, at
least the fault, if there were one, lay with those who made this
condition rather than with herself. The king's wife! The heart of the
woman and the soul of the enthusiast both leaped at the thought.

But close at the heels of her joy there came a sudden revulsion to doubt
and despondency. Was not all this fine prospect a mere day-dream? and
how could these men be so sure that they held the king in the hollow of
their hand? The Jesuit read the fears which dulled the sparkle of her
eyes, and answered her thoughts before she had time to put them into
words.

"The Church redeems its pledges swiftly," said he. "And you, my
daughter, you must be as prompt when your own turn comes."

"I have promised, father."

"Then it is for us to perform. You will remain in your room all
evening."

"Yes, father."

"The king already hesitates. I spoke with him this morning, and his
mind was full of blackness and despair. His better self turns in
disgust from his sins, and it is now when the first hot fit of
repentance is just coming upon him that he may best be moulded to our
ends. I have to see and speak with him once more, and I go from your
room to his. And when I have spoken, he will come from his room to
yours, or I have studied his heart for twenty years in vain. We leave
you now, and you will not see us, but you will see the effects of what
we do, and you will remember your pledge to us." They bowed low to her
both together, and left her to her thoughts.

An hour passed, and then a second one, as she sat in her _fauteuil_, her
tapestry before her, but her hands listless upon her lap, waiting for
her fate. Her life's future was now being settled for her, and she was
powerless to turn it in one way or the other. Daylight turned to the
pearly light of evening, and that again to dusk, but she still sat
waiting in the shadow. Sometimes as a step passed in the corridor she
would glance expectantly towards the door, and the light of welcome
would spring up in her gray eyes, only to die away again into
disappointment. At last, however, there came a quick sha