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SEVEN STUDIOUS SISTERS
throne awaiting the King's blessing, but with their lovers at their sides.
Then his Majesty leaned back his head and roared with laughter till the vaulted ceiling reechoed, and tears of mirth ran down his cheeks and shone upon his beard, and all laughed with him, though they knew not why, all save My Lord Rector, whose face wore the saddest look a man may wear.
"Now, was this planned among you?" asked his Majesty.
Then they shook their heads, and each philosopher said:—
"Forsooth, I thought I was the only one," and with that the King roared again.
In the bustle that followed, when old Count Benoît and his Lady Myriel hung
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