She lost no time in paying me a visit.  Her black attire served only to heighten the astounding whiteness of her complexion.  Effusively thanking me for interesting myself in her most painful case, she added: 

“There is, apparently, some obstacle against me.  I have presented two petitions and two memoranda; being unsupported, both have been left unanswered, and I have now just made the following resolve, madame, of which you will not disapprove.  M. Scarron, apparently well off, had only a life interest in his property.  Upon his death, his debts proved in excess of his capital, and I, deeming it my duty to respect his intentions and his memory, paid off everybody, and left myself nothing.  To-day, Madame la Princesse de Nemours wishes me to accompany her to Lisbon as her secretary, or rather as her friend.

“Being about to acquire supreme power as a sovereign, she intends, by some grand marriage, to keep me there, and then appoint me her lady-in-waiting.”

“And you submit without a murmur to such appalling exile?” I said to Madame Scarron.  “Is such a pretty, charming person as yourself fitted for a Court of that kind, and for such an odd sort of climate?”

“Madame, I have sought to shut my eyes to many things, being solely conscious of the horribly forlorn condition in which I find myself in my native country.”

“Have you reckoned the distance?  Did the Princess confess that she was going to carry you off to the other end of the world?  For her city of Lisbon, surrounded by precipices, is more than three hundred leagues from Paris.”

“At the age of three I voyaged to America, returning hither when I was eleven.”

“I am vexed with Mademoiselle d’Aumale—­

[Mademoiselle d’Aumale, daughter of the Duc de Nemours, of the House of Savoy.  She was a blonde, pleasant-mannered enough, but short of stature.  Her head was too big for her body; and this head of hers was full of conspiracies and coups d’etat.  She dethroned her husband in order to marry his brother.—­Editor’s Note.]

for wanting to rob us of so charming a treasure.  But has she any right to act in this way?  Do you think her capable of contributing to your pleasure or your happiness?  This young Queen of Portugal, under the guise of good-humour, hides a violent and irascible temperament.  I believe her to be thoroughly selfish; suppose that she neglects and despises you, after having profited by your company to while away the tedium of her journey?  Take my word for it, madame, you had better stay here with us; for there is no real society but in France, no wit but in our great world, no real happiness but in Paris.  Draw up another petition as quickly as possible, and send it to me.  I will present it myself, and to tell you this is tantamount to a promise that your plea shall succeed.”

Mademoiselle d’Aubigne, all flushed with emotion, assured me of her gratitude with the ingenuous eloquence peculiar to herself.  We embraced as two friends of the Albret set should do, and three days later, the King received a new petition, not signed with the name of Scarron, but with that of D’Aubigne.