‘Ah!  Mademoiselle!  Your Royal Highness too!’ was all I could say, but I could not silence her.  M. de Lamont had interested the Prince of Conde in his cause, and Mademoiselle, with her insane idea of marrying the hero, in case the poor young Princess should die (and some people declared that she was in a decline), would have thought me a small sacrifice to please him.  So I was beset on all sides.  I think the man was really enough in love to affect to be distracted.  Though far less good-looking in my early youth than my sister, I was so tall and blonde as to have a distinguished air, and my indifference piqued my admirer into a resolution to conquer me.

Mademoiselle harangued me on the absurdity of affecting to be a disconsolate widow, on the step in rank that I should obtain, and the antiquity of M. de Lamont’s pedigree, also upon all the ladies of antiquity she could recollect who had married again; and when I called Artemisia and Cornelia to the front in my defence, she betrayed her secret, like poor Cecile, and declared that it was very obstinate and disobedient in me not to consent to do what would recommend her to the Prince.

Next came M. d’Aubepine, poor young man, with the air of reckless dissipation that sat so ill on a face still so youthful, and a still more ridiculous affectation of worldly wisdom.  He tried to argue me into it by assuring me that the Prince would henceforth be all-powerful in France, and that M. de Lamont was his protege, and that I was not consulting my own interest, those of my son, or of my family, by my refusal.  When he found this ineffectual, he assured me peremptorily that it was the Prince’s will, to which I replied, ’That may be, Monsieur, but it is not mine,’ to which he replied that I was Mademoiselle, but that I should repent it.  I said M. le Prince was not King of France, and I trusted that he never would be, so that I did not see why I should be bound to obey his will and pleasure.  At which he looked so much as if I were uttering blasphemy that I could not help laughing.  I really believe, poor fellow, that M. le Prince was more than a king to him, the god of his idolatry, and that all his faults might be traced to his blind worship and imitation.

I was not even exempt from the persuasions or commands of the great man himself, who was at that time dominating the councils of France, and who apparently could not endure that one poor woman should resist him.  But he, being a Bourbon and a great captain to boot, set about the thing with a better grace than did the rest.  It was in this manner.  When peace, such as it was, was agreed upon, the Princes came in to Paris, and of course they came to pay their visit of ceremony to Queen Henrietta.  It was when I happened to be present, and before leaving her apartment, the Prince came to me, and bending his curled head and eagle face, said, with a look and gesture clearly unaccustomed to opposition:  ’Madame, I understand that you persist in cruelty to my friend, M. de Lamont.  Permit me to beg of you to reconsider your decision.  On the word of a Prince, you will not have reason to repent.  He is under my protection.’