At the same time, there was amongst the Queen’s women a rather pretty waiting-maid, well brought up, who was called Madame de Beauvais.  Those brunettes, with black eyes, bright complexions, and graceful plumpness, are almost always wanton and alluring.  Madame de Beauvais noticed the sudden development of the monarch, his impassioned reveries which betrayed themselves in his gaze.  She thought she had detected intentions on his part, and an imperious need of explaining himself.  A word, which was said to her in passing, authorised her, or seemed to authorise her, to make an almost intelligible reply.  The young wooer showed himself less undecided, less enigmatic,—­and the understanding was completed.

Madame de Beauvais was the recipient of the prince’s first emotions, and the clandestine connection lasted for three months.  Anne of Austria, informed of what was passing, wished at first to punish her first maid in waiting; but the Cardinal, more circumspect, represented to her that this connection, of which no one knew, was an occupation, not to say a safeguard, for the young King, whose fine constitution and health naturally drew him to the things of life.  “Although eighteen years of age,” he added, “the prince abandons the whole authority to you; whereas another, in his place, would ardently dispute it.  Do not let us quarrel with him about trifles; leave him his Beauvais lady, so that he may make no attempt on my pretty nieces nor on your authority, madame, nor on my important occupations, which are for the good of the State.”

Anne of Austria, who was more a Christian and a mother than a diplomatic woman, found it very painful to appreciate these arguments of the Cardinal; but after some reflection she recognised their importance, and things remained as they were.

Madame de Beauvais had a son, whom the husband (whether overconfident or not) saw brought into the world with much delight, and whom, with a wealth of royalist respect, they baptised under the agreeable name of Louis.  This child, who had a fine figure and constitution, received a particularly careful education.  He has something of the King about him, principally in his glance and smile.  He presents, however, only the intellectual habit of his mother, and even a notable absence of grandeur and elevation.  He is a very pretty waiting-woman, dressed out as a cavalier; in a word, he is that pliant and indefatigable courtier, whom we see everywhere, and whom town and Court greet by the name of Baron de Beauvais.

His sister is the Duchesse de Richelieu, true daughter of her father, as ugly, or rather as lacking in charm, as he is; but replete with subtilty and intelligence,—­with that intelligence which perpetually suggests a humble origin, and which wearies or importunes, because of its ill-nature.  At the age of seventeen, her freshness made her pass for being pretty.  She accused the young Duc de Richelieu of having seduced her, and made her a mother; and he, in his fear of her indignation and intrigues, and of the reproaches of the Queen, hastened to confess his fault, and to repair everything by marrying her.