"Your Majesty looks vexed this afternoon," said Madame de Montespan in a softly modulated voice. "What has happened?" "I am exceedingly annoyed about that affair of Lauzun," replied Louis, seating himself in an arm-chair. "He has again applied to me about the Artillery this morning." Madame de Montespan leant back indolently among the cushions, little dreaming who was crouching beneath so near her, and placed her feet upon an embroidered stool. A feather fan hung at her side, and as the weather was warm she took it up and moved it languidly to and fro, gazing absently at the King, who awaited her reply. "Did you hear what I said, Athanaise? I am annoyed about Lauzun." "I heard, Sire; but what can I say? You already know my opinion on that subject. Need I repeat it?" This was said in a careless manner, as she sank back deeper among the cushions. (Lauzun was all ears. "She has given her opinion then," he said to himself. "I think I can guess what it was.") "I promised Lauzun the place, remember," continued the King. "He certainly merits it; but your friend Louvois will not hear of his appointment. He torments me every time I see him to give the Artillery to the Comte de Lude." "I certainly advise you," returned the lady, glancing at herself in an opposite mirror and arranging the fringe of small curls that lay on her forehead, "to be guided by the advice of so experienced a minister as Louvois, rather than listen to such an empty-headed coxcomb as Lauzun." ("Ah, that is the opinion you have of me, is it?" muttered Lauzun. "Now I know you, you traitress!") "But remember, Athanaise," said the King, taking out his snuff-box and applying the powder to his nose with great deliberation—"remember his attachment to me, his courage." "His attachment to you, Sire!" and Madame de Montespan smiled ironically. "Do you believe in it?" "Certainly. Then my word——" "Bah! your word—that is nothing. Withdraw it." ("Ah! fiend," exclaimed Lauzun in a low voice, clenching his fists as well as his position allowed him; "this is the way you plead my cause, is it? Curses on you!") "You need not fear for Lauzun," continued the lady blandly. "Mademoiselle will take care of his interests—the old fool!" Madame de Montespan, in imitation of _La Grande Mademoiselle_, bridled, simpered, craned her neck, rounded her elbows, and stared superciliously under her eyelids. Louis laughed. "Spare my poor cousin, Marquise. She is eminently ridiculous; but I love her sincerely. Her genuine affection for Lauzun touches me." "For my part, Sire, I cannot understand how any woman can care for him. He is such a _petit maître_—ill-made, short, with a complexion like a lemon—altogether detestable. Not a man to my taste, certainly," added she contemptuously, at the same time casting a flattering glance at the King, as much as to say, in his presence no other man could possibly be thought of. The King understood the glance and the compliment, and smiled upon her.