“Mortification?”

“Yes; people come and bring pleas before me, and I am obliged to send them away as I dare not ask the king anything.”

“Why not?”

“Because I cannot look on him as my lover only; he is always my sovereign, too.  Ah! happiness is to be sought for in simple homes, not in pompous palaces.”

“Happiness is gained by complying with the duties of whatever condition of life one is in, and you must constrain yourself to rise to that exalted station in which destiny has placed you.”

“I cannot do it; I love the king and I am always afraid of vexing him.  I am always thinking that he does too much for me, and thus I dare not ask for anything for others.”

“But I am sure the king would be only too glad to shew his love for you by benefiting the persons in whom you take an interest.”

“I know he would, and that thought makes me happy, but I cannot overcome my feeling of repugnance to asking favours.  I have a hundred louis a month for pin-money, and I distribute it in alms and presents, but with due economy, so that I am not penniless at the end of the month.  I have a foolish notion that the chief reason the king loves me is that I do not importune him.”

“And do you love him?”

“How can I help it?  He is good-hearted, kindly, handsome, and polite to excess; in short, he possesses all the qualities to captivate a woman’s heart.

“He is always asking me if I am pleased with my furniture, my clothes, my servants, and my garden, and if I desire anything altered.  I thank him with a kiss, and tell him that I am pleased with everything.”

“Does he ever speak of the scion you are going to present to him?”

“He often says that I ought to be careful of myself in my situation.  I am hoping that he will recognize my son as a prince of the blood; he ought in justice to do so, as the queen is dead.”

“To be sure he will.”

“I should be very happy if I had a son.  I wish I felt sure that I would have one.  But I say nothing about this to anyone.  If I dared speak to the king about the horoscope, I am certain he would want to know you; but I am afraid of evil tongues.”

“So am I. Continue in your discreet course and nothing will come to disturb your happiness, which may become greater, and which I am pleased to have procured for you.”

We did not part without tears.  She was the first to go, after kissing me and calling me her best friend.  I stayed a short time with Madame Varnier to compose my feelings, and I told her that I should have married her instead of drawing her horoscope.

“She would no doubt have been happier.  You did not foresee, perhaps, her timidity and her lack of ambition.”

“I can assure you that I did not reckon upon her courage or ambition.  I laid aside my own happiness to think only of hers.  But what is done cannot be recalled, and I shall be consoled if I see her perfectly happy at last.  I hope, indeed, she will be so, above all if she is delivered of a son.”