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Rh she mention her belief to Madame de Mercœur?—her natural frankness prompted this course; but it was opposed by every reason that could suggest itself. If she were mistaken, and it was just possible that she might be so, how monstrous, and, worse, how ridiculous, would her vanity appear! and, even if it were true, Madame do Mercœur was scarcely the person to consult—in her circle, the King was every thing; who there would think of gainsaying his pleasure? She felt rather than acknowledged, that between their ideas of right and wrong and her own, there was, indeed, a wide gulf. She considered, too, how slight was her claim upon the kindness of the Mercœurs; the had no right even to run the risk of embarrassing them:—on herself, therefore, must be her sole dependence. The Comtesse evidently was making a tool of her, by encouraging the King's predilection. Provided he was attracted to the Hôtel de Soissons, she cared not how; Francesca, or any one else, might be the magnet.

Madame de Mercœur had herself arranged her dress, which was splendid white silk, damasked with silver flowers; but it was with much internal misgiving that she put on the graceful cap and plume.