“No, Madame, that would be too dangerous; he might cut off your head in revenge, _à la reine Anne Boleyn_. We must mortify him--wound his vanity: no vengeance equal to that with a man like the Cardinal. He is intensely conceited, and proud of his figure. He imagines that he is graceful and alluring--perhaps he has been told so by her Majesty--I beg your pardon, Madame”--and the Duchess stopped and pursed up her lips, as if she could say more but dared not. “Did Marion de l’Orme betray him?” asked the Queen slily, “or do you speak on your own knowledge?” “I have it!” cried Madame de Chevreuse--not noticing the Queen’s question--and her mischievous eyes danced with glee. “I will meet him when he comes to-morrow, and persuade him to appear in the dress of a Spaniard, out of compliment to you. Stay, he shall dance, too, and we will provide a mandoline to accompany his voice. I will tell him that you have long admired him in secret, and that if he appears in so becoming a costume he is sure to be well received. A Spanish costume, too, for he knows how you adore Spain, the spy--then he shall dance a _sarabande_, a _bolero à l’Espagnol_, or sing----” “Ha! ha! Duchess, you are _impayable_” and the Queen laughed until the tears ran down her cheeks. “But will he be fool enough to believe you? If he does, I will kill him with scorn, the daring Cardinal!” and Anne of Austria drew herself up, looked into an opposite mirror, shook her golden curls, and laughed again. The next morning, at the hour of the Queen’s lever, the Cardinal arrived. The Duchesse de Chevreuse met him and conducted him to a room near the Queen’s saloon. She carefully closed the door, begged him to be seated, and, with an air of great mystery, requested him to listen to her before his arrival was announced to her Majesty. The Cardinal was greatly taken aback at finding himself alone with the Duchess. She looked so seductive; the dark tints of her luxuriant hair, hanging about her neck and shoulders, harmonised so well with her _brunette_ complexion, her brown eyes bent smilingly upon him, her delicate robe clinging to her tall figure, that he was almost tempted to repent his infidelity to her, and that he had come for any other than for her. “Your eminence is surprised to see me,” said she, smiling, and speaking in the softest voice, and with the utmost apparent frankness, “but I am not in the least jealous,” and she shook her finger at him. The Cardinal reddened, and looked confused. “Do you, then, Duchess, guess on what errand I have come?” “Perfectly, perfectly; when I heard you had requested a private audience in the absence of the King, I understood the rest.” “Perhaps I have been indiscreet,” said Richelieu, and he sighed, “but I was anxious to explain my position to the Queen. I fear that she misconceives me; that she looks on me as her enemy; that she imagines that I prejudice the King against her. I desire to explain my feelings to her; they are of a mixed nature.”