commence, a life which will be full of sacrifice, mystery, anxiety, disappointment and misunderstanding; swear to me that if we should be deceiving, or should misunderstand each other, or should be judging each other unjustly, for that indeed would be criminal in love such as ours; swear to me, Louise—"
She trembled with agitation to the very depths of her heart; it was the first time she had heard her name pronounced in that manner by her royal lover. As for the king, taking off his glove, and placing his ungloved hand within the carriage, he continued: "Swear that never in all our quarrels will we allow one night even to pass by, if any misunderstanding should arise between us, without a visit, or at least a message, from either, in order to convey consolation and repose to the other."
La Valliere took her lover's burning hand between her own icy palms, and pressed it softly, until a movement of the horse, frightened by the proximity of the wheels, obliged her to abandon her happiness. She had sworn as he wished her.
"Return, sire," she said, "return to the queen: I foresee a storm rising yonder which threatens my peace of mind."
Louis obeyed, saluted Mademoiselle de Montalais, and set off at a gallop to rejoin the queen's carriage. As he passed Monsieur's carriage, he observed that he was fast asleep, although Madame, on her part, was wide awake. As the king passed her, she said, "What a beautiful horse, sire! is it not Monsieur's bay horse?" The young queen merely remarked, "Are you better now, sire?"
CHAPTER XXX.
TRIUMFEMINATE.
On the king's arrival in Paris, he sat at the council which had been summoned, and worked for a certain portion of the day. The queen remained with the queen-mother, and burst into tears as soon as she had taken leave of the king. "Ah! madame!" she said, "the king no longer loves me! What will become of me?"
"A husband always loves his wife when she is like you," replied Anne of Austria.
"A time may come when he will love another woman instead of me."
"What do you call loving?"
"Always thinking of a person—always seeking her society."
"Do you happen to have remarked," said Anne of Austria, "that the king has ever done anything of the sort?"
"No, madame," said the young queen, hesitatingly.
"What is there to complain of, then, Marie?"
"You will admit that the king leaves me?"
"The king, my daughter, belongs to his people."
"And that is the very reason why he no longer belongs to me; and that is the reason, too, why I shall find myself, as so many queens have been before me, forsaken and forgotten, while glory and honors will be reserved for others. Oh, my mother! the king is so handsome! how often will others tell him that they love him, and how much, indeed, they must do so!"
"It is very seldom that women love the man in loving the king. But should that happen, which I doubt, you should rather wish, Marie, that such women should really love your husband. In the first place, the devoted love of a mistress is a rapid element of the dissolution of a lover's affection; and then, by dint of loving, the mistress loses all influence over her lover, whose power or wealth she does not covet, caring only for his affection. Wish, therefore, that the king should love but lightly, and that his mistress should love with all her heart."
"Oh, my mother, what power may not a deep affection exercise over him!"
"And yet you say you are abandoned?"
"Quite true, quite true; I speak absurdly. There is a feeling of anguish, however, which I can never control."
"And that is?"
"The king may make a happy choice—may find a home, with all the tender influences of home, not far from that we can offer him—a home with children around him, the children of another woman than myself. Oh, madame! I should die if I were but to see the king's children."
"Marie, Marie," replied the queen-mother with a smile, and she took the young queen's hand in her own, "remember what I am going to say, and let it always be a consolation to you: the king cannot have a Dauphin without you."
"With this remark the queen-mother quitted her daughter-in-law, in order to meet Madame, whose arrival in the grand cabinet had just been announced by one of the pages. Madame had scarcely taken time to change her dress. Her face revealed her agitation, which betrayed a plan the execution of which occupied, while the result disturbed, her mind.
"I came to ascertain," she said, "if your majesties are suffering any fatigue from our journey."
"None at all," said the queen-mother.
"But a slight one," replied Maria-Theresa.
"I have suffered from annoyance more than from anything else," said Madame.
"What annoyance?" inquired Anne of Austria.
"The fatigue the king undergoes in riding about on horseback."
"That does the king good."
"And it was I who advised him to do it," said Maria-Theresa, turning pale.
Madame said not a word in reply; but one of those smiles which were peculiarly her own flitted for a moment across her lips, without passing over the rest of her face; then, immediately changing the conversation, she continued, "We shall find Paris precisely like the Paris we left it; the same intrigues, plots, and flirtations going on."
"Intrigues! What intrigues do you allude to?" inquired the queen-mother.
"People are talking a good deal about M. Fouquet and Madame Plessis-Belliere."
"Who makes up the number to about ten thousand," replied the queen-mother. "But what are the plots you speak of?"
"We have, it seems, certain misunderstandings with Holland to settle."
"What about?"
"Monsieur has been telling me the story of the medals."
"Oh!" exclaimed the young-queen, "you mean those medals which were struck in Holland, on which a cloud is seen passing across the sun, which is the king's device. You are wrong in calling that a plot—it is an insult."
"But so contemptible that the king can well despise it," replied the queen-mother. "Well, what are the flirtations which are alluded to? Do you mean that of Madame d'Olonne?"
"No, no; nearer ourselves than that."
"Casa de usted," murmured the queen-mother, and without moving her lips, in her daughter-in-law's ear, and also without being overheard by Madame, who thus continued: "You know the terrible news?"
"Oh,
