adame. I can see with my own eyes."

"Well, and what do you see?"

"That Buckingham never quits my wife. He presumes to make presents to
her, and she ventures to accept them. Yesterday she was talking about
sachets a la violette; well, our French perfumers, you know very
well, madame, for you have over and over again asked for it without
success--our French perfumers, I say, have never been able to procure
this scent. The duke, however, wore about him a sachet a la violette,
and I am sure that the one my wife has came from him."

"Indeed, monsieur," said Anne of Austria, "you build your pyramids on
needle points; be careful. What harm, I ask you, can there be in a man
giving to his countrywoman a receipt for a new essence? These strange
ideas, I protest, painfully recall your father to me; he who so
frequently and so unjustly made me suffer."

"The Duke of Buckingham's father was probably more reserved and more
respectful than his son," said Philip, thoughtlessly, not perceiving how
deeply he had wounded his mother's feelings. The queen turned pale,
and pressed her clenched hands upon her bosom; but, recovering herself
immediately, she said, "You came here with some intention or another, I
suppose?"

"Certainly."

"What was it?"

"I came, madame, intending to complain energetically, and to inform you
that I will not submit to such behavior from the Duke of Buckingham."

"What do you intend to do, then?"

"I shall complain to the king."

"And what do you expect the king to reply?"

"Very well, then," said Monsieur, with an expression of stern
determination on his countenance, which offered a singular contrast to
its usual gentleness. "Very well. I will right myself!"

"What do you call righting yourself?" inquired Anne of Austria, in
alarm.

"I will have the Duke of Buckingham quit the princess, I will have him
quit France, and I will see that my wishes are intimated to him."

"You will intimate nothing of the kind, Philip," said the queen, "for if
you act in that manner, and violate hospitality to that extent, I will
invoke the severity of the king against you."

"Do you threaten me, madame?" exclaimed Philip, almost in tears; "do you
threaten me in the midst of my complaints!"

"I do not threaten you; I do but place an obstacle in the path of your
hasty anger. I maintain that, to adopt towards the Duke of Buckingham,
or any other Englishman, any rigorous measure--to take even a
discourteous step to