“Dear Duchess, you really are talking nonsense. What on earth could make the King care for me?” and she sighed deeply, and fell into a muse. “I do pity him, though,” she added, speaking with great feeling; “I pity him, I own. He is naturally good--brave--confiding,” and she paused between each word. “I am glad you find him so,” answered the Duchess drily. “Yet he ill fulfils his glorious mission,” continued Louise, as if speaking to herself. “He is conscious of it, and it pains him. I am sure he suffers acutely.” “Heal his wounds, then,” said the Duchess, with a cynical smile, but speaking in so low a voice that Mademoiselle de Lafayette did not catch the words. “Ah! if he had but one true friend, he might emulate his great father! Did you hear, Duchess, with what firmness he addressed the deputies yesterday, who had refused to register the royal edicts for raising the necessary funds for the army? ‘This money,’ he said, ‘is not for myself, but for the nation, and to maintain the national honour. Those who refuse it, injure France more than her enemies, the Spaniards. I will be obeyed,’ he said. There was energy! Oh, it was noble!” and her eyes glistened and cheeks glowed. “I suppose the Cardinal had composed this neat little speech for him beforehand,” replied the Duchess with a sneer, contemplating her cousin with amused inquisitiveness. “You do not believe he ever spoke like that himself? You do not know him as well as I do, else you would not be so enthusiastic. However, it is all as it should be. I do not desire to disenchant you, I am sure. _Au revoir_,” and the Duchess left the room. The next morning, before his departure for the campaign, Louis went to bid the Queen farewell. It was only a formal visit, and he stayed scarcely a minute. The Queen did not affect to care what might become of him. On leaving her audience-chamber he lingered in the anteroom in which her attendants were assembled. Mademoiselle de Lafayette was seated, with another maid, in a recess; she,--Mademoiselle de Guerchy,--seeing the King’s anxious looks, at once rose and retired. He immediately took her place, and signed to Louise to seat herself beside him. Separated from her companion, and sitting apart with Louis, Louise suddenly remembered that it was precisely thus the King had conversed _tête-à-tête_ with Mademoiselle de Hautefort; she became greatly embarrassed. “I come,” said the King, turning towards her, and speaking in a plaintive voice, “I come to bid you adieu.” Louise bent her head, and put her handkerchief to her eyes. Louis started at seeing the big tears roll down her cheeks. “I have enjoyed few moments of happiness in the course of my dreary life,” continued he, pressing her hand, “but this is one.” He broke off, overcome apparently by his feelings. Louise wiped the tears from her eyes.