"Sit down here a minute," he said, "and recover yourself, before I take you up-stairs. That was an unfortunate accident. If I had known I should not have brought you here." "O Philip, let me go home! No more visits like this, please!" "You shall do as you like, my dear," said Philip, kindly; "but the next visit will be very different from this." Celia rose, trying to compose herself; and, afraid of disappointing her brother, she consented to be taken where he wished. "Does Madame de Maintenon receive this afternoon?" was Philip's question to the usher upstairs. "She does, Sir; and His Royal Highness the Duke of Bretagne is with her." "Oh, I don't want to see anybody who will swear!" said Celia, drawing back. "If the Duke of Bretagne have learned to swear," answered Philip, gravely, "he must be a marvel of juvenile depravity; for he will not be three years old until next February." "A child!" said Celia. "I beg the little thing's pardon; I have no objection to that." "The future King of France, my dear," said Philip. "He will be Louis XV. (if he live) in a few years, at the utmost. Now, three low courtesies for Madame de Maintenon." In a quiet, pleasant chamber, hung with dark blue, an old lady sat showing a picture-book to a very little boy who stood leaning against her knee. She did not look her age, which was seventy-eight. Her figure was rather inclining to be tall, and she preserved the taste, the grace, and the dignity which had always characterized her. A complexion of extreme fairness was relieved by black eyes, very large and radiant, but the once chestnut hair now required no powder to make it white. "Mr. Philip Ingram?" she said, with a peculiarly pleasant smile; "I am very much pleased to see you." "My sister, Madame," said Philip, as he presented Celia. "I did not know that you had a sister," she answered, receiving Celia very kindly. "Louis, will you give your hand to this lady?" The pretty little child[29] addressed trotted forward, and looking straight in Celia's face with his great brown eyes, presented his baby hand to be kissed. Resisting a strong inclination to take him on her knee and kiss him, Celia performed her homage to the future Sovereign. With much gravity the little Duke offered the same privilege to Philip, and trotted back to his picture-book. "My Lady Ingram is not with you?" asked the old lady. "In the Duchess de Berry's saloon at lansquenet, Madame." "Ah! Do you play, Mademoiselle?" "No, Madame," said Celia. "I am glad to hear it," replied Madame de Maintenon.[30] "It is a great waste of time and temper, which were not given us for such uses." "Turn over!" required the little Prince, authoritatively. Madame de Maintenon smiled and obeyed. "I hope His Majesty is not ill?" asked Philip. "I hear he does not receive." "Not ill, but not well. One of his troublesome headaches. Neither men nor women live forever, Mr. Ingram--not even Kings."