"True, but unfortunate, Madame," was the civil answer with which Philip took his leave. "Now we will go home," said he. "A short visit, but I thought we had better not interrupt the Duke's reading-lesson. Did you like this scene better than the other?" "O Philip, how different! Is that lady his nurse?" "Well, not precisely, my dear. She is--only that she is not called so--the Queen." "The Queen of France?" asked Celia, opening her eyes. "The King of France's wife, which I suppose is the same thing; only that in Madame de Maintenon's case it is not the same thing. There is a paradox! A strange life that woman has led. She was born in a prison, the daughter of a Huguenot father and a Catholic mother; imbibed her father's teaching, and when young was a determined little Huguenot. Her father died early. Her mother took her to church, and she turned her back on the altar. Madam d'Aubigné slapped Miss Fanny and turned her round; but Fanny only presented the other cheek. 'Strike away!' said she; ''tis a blessed thing to suffer for one's religion!' Her mother now thought there was nothing to be done with the obstinate little heretic, and gave her up. Next, the house was burnt--fortunately while they were out of it; but for days Fanny cried inconsolably. Her mother, who appears to have been a practical, matter-of-fact woman, when this sort of thing had gone on for several days, thought it desirable to treat Miss Fanny to a slight scolding. 'What a little goose you are!' she said, 'crying everlastingly for a house!' 'Oh! it isn't the house!' sobbed Fanny; 'it isn't the house--it is dolly!' Well, Madame d'Aubigné died while Fanny was still a girl, and she was left entirely destitute. In these circumstances she married, for a home, the ugliest man in France. He was a comic poet, a poor deformed fellow, of the name of Scarron. Fanny did not gain much by her marriage, for they were very poor; but her taste in dress was so exquisite that I have heard ladies say she looked better in a common gown of lavender cotton than half the Court ladies in their silks and satins: and her conversation was so fascinating that clever men used to dine with Scarron just for the sake of hearing her talk.