As he passed that of his late queen, Maria Theresa, he started and gasped with horror.
"My God!" he whispered; "she frowned and spat at me!" Madame laid her cool hand upon his wrist.

"It is nothing, sire," she murmured, in her soothing voice.

"It was but the light flickering over the picture." Her words had their usual effect upon him.

The startled look died away from his eyes, and taking her hand in his he walked resolutely forwards.
A minute later they were before the altar, and the words were being read which should bind them forever together.

As they turned away again, her new ring blazing upon her finger, there was a buzz of congratulation around her.