LITMIR.BIZ

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had determined to say nothing further, and he remained impenetrable. De Guiche therefore promised himself a more satisfactory result with Raoul. In the meantime they had reached the Palais Royal, which was surrounded by a crowd of lookers-on. The household belonging to Monsieur awaited his command to mount their horses, in order to form part of the escort of the ambassadors, to whom had been intrusted the care of bringing the young princess to Paris. The brilliant display of horses, arms, and rich liveries, afforded some compensation in those times, thanks to the kindly feelings of the people, and to the traditions of deep devotion to their sovereigns, for the enormous expenses charged upon the taxes. Mazarin had said: “Let them sing, provided they pay;” while Louis XIV.‘s remark was, “Let them look.” Sight had replaced the voice; the people could still look but they were no longer allowed to sing. De Guiche left De Wardes and Malicorne at the bottom of the grand staircase, while he himself, who shared the favor and good graces of Monsieur with the Chevalier de Lorraine, who always smiled at him most affectionately, though he could not endure him, went straight to the prince’s apartments, whom he found engaged in admiring himself in the glass, and rouging his face. In a corner of the cabinet, the Chevalier de Lorraine was extended full length upon some cushions, having just had his long hair curled, with which he was playing in the same manner a woman would have done. The prince turned round as the count entered, and perceiving who it was, said: “Ah! is that you, De Guiche; come here and tell me the truth.”

      “You know, my lord, it is one of my defects to speak the truth.”

      “You will hardly believe, De Guiche, how that wicked chevalier has annoyed me.”

      The chevalier shrugged his shoulders.

      “Why, he pretends,” continued the prince, “that Mademoiselle Henrietta is better looking as a woman than I am as a man.”

      “Do not forget, my lord,” said De Guiche, frowning slightly, “you require me to speak the truth.”

      “Certainly,” said the prince, tremblingly.

      “Well, and I shall tell it you.”

      “Do not be in a hurry, Guiche,” exclaimed the prince, “you have plenty of time; look at me attentively, and try to recollect Madame. Besides, her portrait is here. Look at it.” And he held out to him a miniature of the finest possible execution. De Guiche took it, and looked at it for a long time attentively.

      “Upon my honor, my lord, this is indeed a most lovely face.”

      “But look at me, count, look at me,” said the prince, endeavoring to direct upon himself the attention of the count, who was completely absorbed in contemplation of the portrait.

      “It is wonderful,” murmured Guiche.

      “Really one would imagine you had never seen the young lady before.”

      “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 Valliere; 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.”

      The Chevalier de Lorraine burst out laughing.

      “Chevalier,” said Guiche, “your conduct is ungenerous; while I am soliciting a favor, you do me all the mischief you can.”

      “Forgive me, comte,” said the Chevalier de Lorraine, somewhat uneasy at the tone in which Guiche had made his remark, “but I had no intention of doing so, and I begin to believe that I have mistaken one young lady for another.”

      “There is no doubt of it, monsieur; and I do not hesitate to declare that such is the case.”

      “Do you attach much importance to it, Guiche?” inquired the prince.

      “I do, my lord.”

      “Well, you shall have it; but ask me for no more appointments, for there are none to give away.”

      “Ah!” exclaimed the chevalier, “midday already, that is the hour fixed for the departure.”

      “You dismiss me, monsieur?” inquired Guiche.

      “Really, count, you treat me very ill to-day,” replied the chevalier.

      “For heaven’s sake, count, for heaven’s sake, chevalier,” said Monsieur, “do you not see how you are distressing me?”

      “Your highness’s signature?” said Guiche.

      “Take a blank appointment from that drawer, and give it to me.” Guiche handed the prince the document indicated, and at the same time presented him with a pen already dipped in ink; whereupon the prince signed. “Here,” he said, returning him the appointment, “but I give it on one condition.”

      “Name it.”

      “That you make friends with the chevalier.”

      “Willingly,” said Guiche. And he held out his hand to the chevalier with an indifference amounting to contempt.

      “Adieu, count,” said the chevalier, without seeming in any way to have noticed the count’s

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