The next morning the Duchess went to her young cousin’s room. Madame de Sennécy had a very decided taste for intrigue, and would willingly have replaced the Duchesse de Chevreuse in the confidence of Anne of Austria, but she wanted her predecessor’s daring wit, her adroitness, witcheries, and beauty; above all, she lacked that generous devotion to her mistress, which turned her life into a romance. Now Madame de Sennécy thought she saw a chance of advancing her interests by means of her cousin’s growing favour with the King. She would gain her confidence, and by retailing her secrets excite the jealousy and secure the favour of the Queen. “My dear child,” said she, kissing Louise on both cheeks, a bland smile upon her face, “will you excuse my early visit?” She seated herself opposite to Mademoiselle de Lafayette, the better to observe her. “Excuse the warmth with which I spoke to you last night in the Queen’s sleeping-room; but really, whatever attention the King may pay you, _ma chère_, you must not allow yourself to grow careless in her Majesty’s service. As mistress of the robes, I cannot permit it. All the world, my dear cousin, sees he is in love with you”--Louise blushed to the roots of her hair, shook her head, and looked confused and unhappy--“of course he loves you in his fashion. I mean,” added Madame de Sennécy quickly, seeing her distress, and not giving her time to remonstrate, “a perfectly Platonic love, nothing improper, of course. He loves you timidly, modestly, even in his most secret thoughts. I am told by his attendants that the King shows every sign of a great passion, much more intense than he ever felt for Mademoiselle de Hautefort, who, after all, trifled with him, and never was sincere.” “I do not know the King well enough, Duchess, to venture an opinion on his character,” replied Mademoiselle de Lafayette, with diffidence, “but I may say that if I had any prepossessions against his Majesty, I have lost them; I am sure he is capable of the tenderest friendship; he longs to open his heart to a real friend. His confidence has been hitherto abused.” “My dear child, I have come here to advise you to be--well--that friend.” “Oh! madame, I fear I am too inexperienced to be of use to him; but if the King does ask my advice, which seems very presumptuous in me to suppose, I shall conceal nothing that I think, neither facts nor opinions.” “Ah, my cousin, try to rouse him; make him reign for himself; tell him to shake off that dreadful Cardinal.” “That is, I fear, impossible; I am too ignorant of politics. Besides, what can I do now? he is going away to the war.” “Well, but, _petite sotte_, he will return, and you will meet again.” “Oh, no,” replied Louise, again colouring under the scrutinising eye of the mistress of the robes, “he will forget me long before that.” “Nothing of the kind, Louise,” replied the Duchess, “the King never forgets anything.”