The following day, the Court being at the Louvre, Louis visited the Queen at her lever. As he returned into the anteroom, he approached Louise de Lafayette. She was too much agitated even to welcome him. That Louis was also greatly moved was evident. The pallor that always overspread his face when excited, was almost death-like, and every feature worked convulsively. For some moments they stood opposite to each other, without saying a word. Then, overmastering his agitation, Louis spoke to her in a low voice:—"I know not, mademoiselle, when we shall be able to resume those conversations which were so infinitely delightful—I am overwhelmed with business." Then, after glancing round, and seeing that every one had retired, he seized her hand and kissed it tenderly. "Ah! so much the better," said Louise, beaming with smiles. "May you, Sire, ever be thus occupied." [Illustration: THE OLD LOUVRE. FROM AN OLD PRINT.] "Do you want to banish me, then, just as I am returned?" said he, retaining her hand in both of his. "No, Sire; but I want to see you reign." "You have heard me blamed for my indolence? I am sure you have. All I ask is, that you will wait and judge for yourself. The Court is filled with my enemies." He spoke with animation. "Sire, I need not wait," replied the maid of honour eagerly, her liquid eyes, full of faith and affection, turned upon him, "I have long ago decided in your favour." "May you never change!" ejaculated Louis fervently. "It would console me for a world of injustice. I must now leave you," and he pressed her hand again and raised it to his lips. The eagerness with which Louis applied himself to state affairs after his return, evoked much mirth and ridicule among the ladies of the Court. Louise de Lafayette was pained. When Madame de Sennécy declared that his Majesty's industry could not possibly last, she was offended in the highest degree. The Cardinal, too, was openly abused for the military appointments he had made during the war by these fair critics, whereupon Louise, who dared not openly defend the King, endeavoured to justify him by exonerating the Cardinal. One morning, when both King and minister had been bitterly attacked in the anteroom, before the Queen had left her apartments, Louise remarked to those around her that the Cardinal, though unpopular, was undeniably great; that he had founded the Académie Française, rebuilt the Sorbonne, established the Royal Printing Press, founded the Jardin des Plantes, and that, as a minister, he was brave, daring, and wise.