“I confess it, indeed,” answered Louis XV; “but the unfortunate sufferer herself was not without a due share of blame in the matter. Her presumption had greatly irritated madame de Pompadour, who punished her as she thought fit: of course I could not, consistently with the regard I professed for the marchioness, interfere in the execution of her vengeance.” “I do not agree with you,” said I. “Why, what else could I do?” asked Louis XV, with the most imperturbable calmness; “she had superior claims, was acknowledged as chief favorite, and I could not refuse her the sacrifice of a mere temporary caprice.” “Very well said,” answered I, “and founded upon excellent principles; but surely it was not necessary to shut up the object of your caprice in a state prison, and, above all, to leave her there for such a length of time. However, the mischief is done; and all we have to think of is to repair it. You have now, sire, a fine opportunity of displaying your royal munificence.” “You think, then,” returned Louis XV, “that I am bound to make this unhappy girl some present? Well, I will; to-morrow I will send her 10,000 louis.” “A thousand louis!” exclaimed I, clasping my hands; “what, as a recompense for seventeen years’ imprisonment? No, no, sire, you shall not get off so easily; you must must settle on her a pension of 12,000 livres, and present her with an order for 100,000 more as an immediate supply.” “Bless me!” ejaculated the king, “why all, the girls in my kingdom would go to prison for such a dowry: however, she shall have the pension; but, in truth, my treasury is exhausted.” “Then, sire,” returned I, “borrow of your friends.” “Come, come, let us finish this business; I will give your _protégée_ 4000 louis.” “No, I cannot agree,” answered I, “to less than 5000.”