"I desire to speak of the past. The past cannot injure her Majesty. I am without prejudice, and incapable of malice." The Duchesse de Sennécy laughs behind her fan. "I have listened to all Madame de Sennécy has said with deep concern;" and she crosses her hands, and looks up at the ceiling with mock solemnity. "I am lady of the bedchamber to the Queen—a position involving certain duties, certain reserves. God forbid I should forget them!" Madame de Sennécy stares at her with amazement, wondering what is coming next. "Her Majesty was so cautious formerly—so cautious, I say—nothing more—it is not likely she would commit herself now. I do not therefore agree with Madame de Sennécy in her opinion that she is privately married to Mazarin." "Then she ought to be," the red-nosed Countess says sententiously. "Remember she had Madame de Chevreuse to help her formerly," thrusts in Madame de Sennécy sharply. "With your permission, ladies, I will begin my narrative. But if you interrupt me, I cannot do so." and Madame de Noailles draws herself up with an offended air. "A thousand pardons!" every one exclaims. Not a sound is heard. The Duchess, somewhat pacified, surveys her audience. "I presume, ladies, we all adore the miracle wrought in the person of his present Majesty for the continuance of the royal line; I say, in the person of our present Majesty, Louis XIV., a miracle which was brought about by the intercession of that saint, your cousin, Mademoiselle Louise de Lafayette;" she turns towards Madame de Sennécy, who bows. "It was Mademoiselle de Lafayette who persuaded the King to visit the Queen at the Louvre. A miracle—eh, my dear friends?" and a malicious smile plays about her mouth, and she casts up her eyes and pauses; "a wonderful miracle after twenty-two years of sterility, and the King, too, almost in his grave!" "Quite so," replies the Duchesse de Sennécy; "incredible!" All the ladies laugh. The red-nosed Countess declares she never had believed it; which was exactly what Madame de Noailles intended, though she would not have said so for the world! "Well, after this truly miraculous event, and when their Majesties were as much alienated as ever—for the Queen never forgave the insult the King put upon her at the Val de Grâce, in summoning her before the council, and making the Chancellor search her papers—their Majesties being, I repeat, as much alienated as ever, the Beau Buckingham came to Court.[2] But, mesdames, this is a long story; you will be fatigued." [2] George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, favourite of James I., and of his son, Charles I., assassinated by Felton, 1628. "No, no—not in the least," answer all the ladies, speaking at once. "Go on, Duchess, pray go on; tell us about the Beau Buckingham. Did he not let pearls fall from his dress, and when they were picked up refuse to take them back?" asks the Duchesse de Sennécy. "Exactly," replies Madame de Noailles. "Buckingham was a grand seigneur." "Pray go on, madame."