en, his lips partially opened, and
the most lamentable sigh he had ever uttered was about to issue from his
chest.

"Sire," said he, "I shall have despoiled my poor family; I shall have
ruined all who belong to me, which may be imputed to me as an error;
but, at least, it shall not be said of me that I have refused to
sacrifice everything to my king."

Anne of Austria's tears flowed afresh.

"My dear Monsieur Mazarin," said the king, in a more serious tone than
might have been expected from his youth, "you have misunderstood me,
apparently."

Mazarin raised himself upon his elbow.

"I have no purpose to despoil your dear family, nor to ruin your
servants. Oh, no, that must never be!"

"Humph!" thought Mazarin, "he is going to restore me some scraps; let us
get the largest piece we can."

"The king is going to be foolishly affected and play generous," thought
the queen; "he must not be allowed to impoverish himself; such an
opportunity for getting a fortune will never occur again."

"Sire," said the cardinal, aloud, "my family is very numerous, and my
nieces will be destitute when I am gone."

"Oh," interrupted the queen, eagerly, "have no uneasiness with respect
to your family, dear Monsieur Mazarin; we have no friends dearer than
your friends; your nieces shall be my children, the sisters of his
majesty; and if a favor be distributed in France, it shall be to those
you love."

"Smoke!" thought Mazarin, who knew better than any one the faith that
can be put in the promises of kings. Louis read the dying man's thought
in his face.

"Be comforted, my dear Monsieur Mazarin," said he, with a half-smile,
sad beneath its irony; "the Mesdemoiselles de Mancini will lose, in
losing you, their most precious good; but they shall none the less be
the richest heiresses of France; and since you have been kind enough to
give me their dowry"--the cardinal was panting--"I restore it to
them," continued Louis, drawing from his breast and holding towards the
cardinal's bed the parchment which contained the donation that, during
two days, had kept alive such tempests in the mind of Mazarin.

"What did I tell you, my lord?" murmured in the alcove a voice which
passed away like a breath.

"Your majesty returns my donation!" cried Mazarin, so disturbed by joy
as to forget his character of a benefactor.

"Your majesty rejects the forty millions!" cried Anne of Austria, so
stupefied as to forget her character of an afflicted