“This must have cost treasures,” said he.  “Had you not parks and chateaus enough?  It would have been better to keep all these sums and give them to me now.”

After this exordium, he set himself to criticise the coiffure of the Queen, on account of the coloured knots that he had remarked in it.

“But you mean, then, to satirise me personally,” said the Princess to him, “since you see my hair dressed in the same fashion, and I am older than my cousin!

“What became of you on leaving the King?” she asked him.  “I waited for you till two hours after midnight.”

“I went,” said he, “to visit M. de Louvois, who is not my friend, and who requires humouring; then to visit M. Colbert, who favours me.”

“You ought to have seen Madame de Maintenon, I gave you that advice before leaving you,” she said; “it is to her, above all, that you owe your liberty.”

“But your Madame de Maintenon,” he resumed, “is she, too, one of the powers?  Ah, my God! what a new geography since I left these regions ten years ago!”

To avoid tete-a-tete, M. de Lauzun was always in a surly humour; he put his left arm into a sling; he never ceased talking of his rheumatism and his pains.

Mademoiselle learned, now from one person, now from another, that he was dining to-day with one fair lady, to-morrow with another, and the next day with a third.  She finally understood that she was despised and tricked; she showed one last generosity (out of pride) towards her former friend,—­solicited for him the title of Duke, and begged him, for the future, to arrange his life to please himself, and to let her alone.

The Marquis de Lauzun took her at her word, and never forgave her for the cession of the principalities of Dombes and Eu to M. le Duc du Maine; he wanted them for himself.

CHAPTER XXII.

Progress of Madame de Maintenon.—­The Anonymous Letter.

Since the birth of Mademoiselle de Blois, and the death of Mademoiselle de Fontanges, the King hardly ever saw me except a few minutes ceremoniously,—­a few minutes before and after supper.  He showed himself always assiduous with Madame de Maintenon, who, by her animated and unflagging talk, had the very profitable secret of keeping him amused.  Although equally clever, I venture to flatter myself, in the art of manipulating speech, I could not stoop to such condescensions.  You cannot easily divert when you have a heart and are sincere—­a man who deserts you, who does not even take the trouble to acknowledge it and excuse himself.

The Marquise sailed, then, on the open sea, with all sail set; whilst my little barque did little more than tack about near the shore.  One day I received the following letter; it was in a pleasant and careful handwriting, and orthography was observed with complete regularity, which suggested that a man had been its writer, or its editor: