were triumphs of the alcove; whilst her
Grace of Portsmouth reigned without a rival over the realm of diplomacy.
Charles II. was in the habit of passing a great portion of his time in
her apartments, where often, in the midst of a joyous circle, he met
Barillon, the French Ambassador, who, from his agreeable manners, was
freely admitted to all the amusements of the indolent monarch. It was by
means of these frequent conversations that, seizing the favourable
moment, the Duchess and the Ambassador succeeded in obtaining an order
which suddenly changed the face of Europe, by bringing about the
signature of the Treaty of Nimeguen, and more than once it fell to her
lot to obtain a success of the same kind, to which neither her arrogant
Grace of Cleveland nor the piquant Nelly could ever pretend. In
political affairs the Querouaille held her own triumphantly over all her
rivals, and obtained a dominion that ended only with the life of
Charles. Too sensible to exact a strict fidelity from the King, the
Duchess of Portsmouth was content to sigh in silence so long as her
womanly feelings alone were sported with; but when it seemed likely that
the influence which she strove to utilise to the profit of France might
be trenched upon, her resentment broke forth in sudden and sweeping
ebullitions which even the dread of a public scandal was impotent to
repress. The correspondence of Bussy-Rabutin furnishes us with a scene
of that description:--

"It is rumoured that Querouaille has been sermonising the King,
crucifix in hand, as well both to wean him from other women as to
bring him back to Christianity: in fact, it appears that she
herself has been very near the point of death. However, three or
four days afterwards, finding herself better, she rose from her
bed, and dragged herself into the box where the King was seeing a
play in company with Madame de Mazarin, and there she overwhelmed
him with endless reproaches for his infidelity. Love and jealousy
are strong passions."

Hortensia Mancini, Duchess de Mazarin, who was commonly thought to be
the finest woman in Europe, and more than that--a very great lady, aunt
of the Duchess of York, might have easily supplanted the "baby-faced"
Querouaille in the inconstant heart of Charles Stuart, but that the
haughty Italian paid small attention to the predilections of that
prince, whom she cut to the quick by receiving before his face the
advan