“Oh! it was the most graceful picture possible; just imagine, La Vallière had fallen back fainting, and--” “Well! what did you see?--tell me--speak!” “I saw what ten other people saw at the same time as myself; I saw that when La Vallière fell into his arms, the king almost fainted himself.” Madame smothered a subdued cry, the only indication of her smothered anger. “Thank you,” she said, laughing in a convulsive manner, “you relate stories delightfully, M. de Saint-Aignan.” And she hurried away, alone, and almost suffocated by painful emotion, towards the chateau. Chapter XLIV. Courses de Nuit. Monsieur quitted the princess in the best possible humor, and feeling greatly fatigued, retired to his apartments, leaving every one to finish the night as he chose. When in his room, Monsieur began to dress for the night with careful attention, which displayed itself from time to time in paroxysms of satisfaction. While his attendants were engaged in curling his hair, he sang the principal airs of the ballet which the violins had played, and to which the king had danced. He then summoned his tailors, inspected his costumes for the next day, and, in token of his extreme satisfaction, distributed various presents among them. As, however, the Chevalier de Lorraine, who had seen the prince return to the chateau, entered the room, Monsieur overwhelmed him with kindness. The former, after having saluted the prince, remained silent for a moment, like a sharpshooter who deliberates before deciding in what direction he will renew his fire; then, seeming to make up his mind, he said, “Have you remarked a very singular coincidence, monseigneur?” “No; what is it?” “The bad reception which his majesty, in appearance, gave the Comte de Guiche.” “In appearance?” “Yes, certainly; since, in reality, he has restored him to favor.” “I did not notice it,” said the prince. “What, did you not remark, that, instead of ordering him to go away again into exile, as was natural, he encouraged him in his opposition by permitting him to resume his place in the ballet?” “And you think the king was wrong, chevalier?” said the prince. “Are you not of my opinion, prince?” “Not altogether so, my dear chevalier; and I think the king was quite right not to have made a disturbance against a poor fellow whose want of judgment is more to be complained of than his intention.” “Really,” said the chevalier, “as far as I am concerned, I confess that this magnanimity astonishes me to the highest degree.” “Why so?” inquired Philip. “Because I should have thought the king had been more jealous,” replied the chevalier, spitefully. During the last few minutes Monsieur had felt there was something of an irritating nature concealed under his favorite’s remarks; this last word, however, ignited the powder. “Jealous!” exclaimed the prince. “Jealous! what do you mean? Jealous of what, if you please--or jealous of whom?”