"I can positively assure your royal highness," said De Guiche, with a firmness marked by great respect, "that Mademoiselle de la Valliere is beloved by a man who merits every respect, for he is a brave and honorable gentleman." "Bragelonne, perhaps?" "My friend; yes, madame." "Well, and although he is your friend, what does that matter to the king?" "The king knows that Bragelonne is affianced to Mademoiselle de la Valliere; and as Raoul has served the king most valiantly, the king will not inflict an irreparable injury upon him." Madame began to laugh in a manner that produced a mournful impression upon De Guiche. "I repeat, madame, I do not believe the king is in love with Mademoiselle de la Valliere; and the proof that I do not believe it is, that I was about to ask you whose _amour propre_ it is likely the king is, in this circumstance, desirous of wounding? You who are well acquainted with the whole court, can perhaps assist me in ascertaining that; and assuredly, with greater reason too, since it is everywhere said that your royal highness is on very intimate terms with the king." Madame bit her lips, and, unable to assign any good and sufficient reasons, changed the conversation. "Prove to me," she said, fixing on him one of those looks in which the whole soul seems to pass into the eyes, "prove to me, I say, that you intended to interrogate me at the very moment I sent for you." De Guiche gravely drew from his tablets what he had written, and showed it to her. "Sympathy," she said. "Yes," said the comte, with an indescribable tenderness of tone, "sympathy. I have explained to you how and why I sought you; you, however, have yet to tell me, madame, why you sent for me." "True," replied the princess. She hesitated, and then suddenly exclaimed, "Those bracelets will drive me mad!" "You expected the king would offer them to you," replied De Guiche. "Why not?" "But before you, madame, before you, his sister-in-law, was there not the queen herself, to whom the king should have offered them?" "Before La Valliere," cried the princess, wounded to the quick, "could he not have presented them to me? Was there not the whole court, indeed, to choose from?" "I assure you, madame," said the comte, respectfully, "that if any one heard you speak in this manner, if any one were to see how red your eyes are, and, Heaven forgive me, to see, too, that earth trembling on your eyelids, it would be said that your royal highness was jealous." "Jealous!" said the princess, haughtily; "jealous of La Valliere!" She expected to see De Guiche yield beneath her haughty gesture and her proud tone; but he simply and boldly replied, "Jealous of La Valliere; yes, madame." "Am I to suppose, monsieur," she stammered out, "that your object is to insult me?" "It is not possible, madame," replied the comte, slightly agitated, but resolved to master that fiery nature.