“It is true, my lord, I have seen her but it was five years ago; there is a great difference between a child twelve years old, and a girl of seventeen.” “Well, what is your opinion?” “My opinion is that the portrait must be flattering, my lord.” “Of that,” said the prince triumphantly, “there can be no doubt; but let us suppose that it is not, what would your opinion be?” “My lord, that your highness is exceedingly happy to have so charming a bride.” The Chevalier de Lorraine burst out laughing. The prince understood how severe towards himself this opinion of the Comte de Guiche was, and he looked somewhat displeased, saying, “My friends are not over indulgent.” De Guiche looked at the portrait again, and, after lengthened contemplation, returned it with apparent unwillingness, saying, “Most decidedly, my lord, I should rather prefer to look ten times at your highness, than to look at Madame once again.” It seemed as if the chevalier had detected some mystery in these words, which were incomprehensible to the prince, for he exclaimed: “Very well, get married yourself.” Monsieur continued painting himself, and when he had finished, looked at the portrait again once more, turned to admire himself in the glass, and smiled, and no doubt was satisfied with the comparison. “You are very kind to have come,” he said to Guiche, “I feared you would leave without bidding me adieu.” “Your highness knows me too well to believe me capable of so great a disrespect.” “Besides, I suppose you have something to ask from me before leaving Paris?” “Your highness has indeed guessed correctly, for I have a request to make.” “Very good, what is it?” The Chevalier de Lorraine immediately displayed the greatest attention, for he regarded every favor conferred upon another as a robbery committed against himself. And, as Guiche hesitated, the prince said: “If it be money, nothing could be more fortunate, for I am in funds; the superintendent of the finances has sent me 500,000 pistoles.” “I thank your highness; but is not an affair of money.” “What is it, then? Tell me.” “The appointment of a maid of honor.” “Oh! oh! Guiche, what a protector you have become of young ladies,” said the prince, “you never speak of any one else now.” The Chevalier de Lorraine smiled, for he knew very well that nothing displeased the prince more than to show any interest in ladies. “My lord,” said the comte, “it is not I who am directly interested in the lady of whom I have just spoken; I am acting on behalf of one of my friends.” “Ah! that is different; what is the name of the young lady in whom your friend is so interested?” “Mlle. de la Baume le Blanc de la Vallière; she is already maid of honor to the dowager princess.” “Why, she is lame,” said the Chevalier de Lorraine, stretching himself on his cushions. “Lame,” repeated the prince, “and Madame to have her constantly before her eyes? Most certainly not; it may be dangerous for her when in an interesting condition.”