Mayor," she said, with a laughing nod, "I
desire you to exercise a little forbearance, and to pardon some
things in me for my youth's sake."
"As if my dear sister-in-law now needed any looking after!" cried
the mayor, with an emphatic tone.
"Ah, my Lord de Provence," said the queen, smiling, "you are falling
out of your part, and forgetting two things. The first, that I am
not the queen here; and the second, that here in Trianon all
flatteries are forbidden."
"It lies in you, whether the truth should appear as flattery,"
answered the Count de Provence, slightly bowing.
"That is an answer worthy of a scholar," cried the schoolmaster,
Count d'Artois. "Brother, you do not know the A B C of gallantry.
You must go to school to me."
"I do not doubt, brother Charles, that in this thing I could learn
very much of you," said the Count de Provence, smiling. "Meanwhile,
I am not sure that my wife would be satisfied with the instruction."
"Some time we will ask her about it," said the queen. "Good-by, my
brothers, I must first greet my dear miller."
She rushed forward, sprang with a flying step up the little wooden
stairway, and threw both her arms around the neck of the miller,
who, laughingly, pressed her to his heart, and drew her within the
mill.
"I thank you, Louis!" cried the queen, bending forward and pressing
the hand of her husband to her lips.
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