All at once the whispering and
talking ceased,--the king and the queen had entered the gallery. The
king advanced to the middle of the hall, the grand almoner called
the names, and the favored ones approached the king, to receive from
him the fulfilment of their wishes, or at least keep their hope
alive. Near him stood the young queen, and while she was converging
with some gentlemen of the court, her beautiful eyes glanced over to
us, and lingered upon the noble but sad form of my father. I had
noticed that on previous days, and every time it seemed to me as if
a ray from the sun had warmed my poor trembling heart--as if new
blossoms of hope were putting forth in my soul. To-day this
sensation, when the queen looked at us, was more intense than
before. My father looked at the king and whispered softly, 'I see
him to-day for the last time!' But I saw only the queen, and while I
pressed the cold, moist hand of my father to my lips, I whispered,
'Courage, dear father, courage! The queen has seen us.' She stopped
short in her conversation with the gentleman and advanced through
the hall with a quick, light step directly to us; her large gray-
blue eyes beamed with kindness, a heavenly smile played around her
rosy lips, her cheeks were flushed with feeling; she was simply
dressed, and yet there floated around her an atmosphere of grace and
nobleness.
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