ere softened and could not restrain their
laughter. Madame Henrietta, the queen-mother, was dazzled by the
brilliancy which cast distinction upon her family, thanks to the wit of
the grand-daughter of Henry IV. The king, jealous, as a young man and
as a monarch, of the superiority of those who surrounded him, could not
resist admitting himself vanquished by a petulance so thoroughly French
in its nature, whose energy was more than ever increased by English
humor. Like a child, he was captivated by her radiant beauty, which her
wit made still more dazzling. Madame's eyes flashed like lightning. Wit
and humor escaped from her scarlet lips, like persuasion from the lips
of Nestor of old. The whole court, subdued by her enchanting grace,
noticed for the first time that laughter could be indulged in before the
greatest monarch in the world, like people who merited their appellation
of the wittiest and most polished people in Europe.

Madame, from that evening, achieved and enjoyed a success capable of
bewildering all not born to those altitudes termed thrones; which, in
spite of their elevation, are sheltered from such giddiness. From that
very moment Louis XIV. acknowledged Madame as a person to be recognized.
Buckingham regarded her as a coquette deserving the cruelest tortures,
and De Guiche looked upon her as a divinity; the courtiers as a star
whose light might some day become the focus of all favor and power. And
yet Louis XIV., a few years previously, had not even condescended to
offer his hand to that "ugly girl" for a ballet; and Buckingham had
worshipped this coquette "on both knees." De Guiche had once looked upon
this divinity as a mere woman; and the courtiers had not dared to extol
this star in her upward progress, fearful to disgust the monarch whom
such a dull star had formerly displeased.

Let us see what was taking place during this memorable evening at the
king's card-table. The young queen, although Spanish by birth, and the
niece of Anne of Austria, loved the king, and could not conceal her
affection. Anne of Austria, a keen observer, like all women, and
imperious, like every queen, was sensible of Madame's power, and
acquiesced in it immediately, a circumstance which induced the young
queen to raise the siege and retire to her apartments. The king hardly
paid any attention to her departure, notwithstanding the pretended
symptoms of indisposition by which it was accompanied. Encouraged by the
rules of e