t hearing each day of fresh absurdities, his Majesty
grew at last impatient. Luckily, M. de Montespan, perceiving that every
house had closed its doors to him, decided to close his own altogether
and travel abroad.

Not being of a vindictive disposition, I never would allow M. de Louvois
to shut him up in the Bastille. On the contrary I privately paid more
than fifty thousand crowns to defray his debts, being glad to render him
some good service in exchange for all the evil that he spoke of me.

I reflected that he had been my husband, my confidant, my friend; that
his only faults were bad temper, love of sport, and love of wine; that he
belonged to one of the very first families of France; and that, despite
all that was said, my son D'Antin certainly was nothing to the King, and
that the Marquis was his father.

CHAPTER IV.

Mademoiselle de la Valliere Jealous.--The King Wishes All to Enjoy
Themselves.--The Futility of Fighting against Fate.--What is Dead is
Dead.

MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIERE was tall, shapely, and extremely pretty, with
as sweet and even a temper as one could possibly imagine, which eminently
fitted her for dreamy, contemplative love-making, such as one reads of in
idyls and romances. She would willingly have spent her life in.
contemplating the King,--in loving and adoring him without ever opening
her mouth; and to her, the sweet silence of a tete-a-tete seemed
preferable to any conversation enlivened by wit.

The King's character was totally different. His imagination was vivid,
and mere love-making, however pleasant, bored him at last if the charm of
ready speech and ready wit were wanting.

I do not profess to be a prodigy, but those who know me do me the justice
to admit that where I am it is very difficult for boredom to find ever so
small a footing.

Mademoiselle de la Valliere, after having begged me, and begged me often,
to come and help her to entertain the King, grew suddenly suspicious and
uneasy. She is candour itself, and one day, bursting into tears, she
said to me, in that voice peculiar to her alone, "For Heaven's sake, my
good friend, do not steal away the King's heart from me!" When
mademoiselle said this to me, I vow and declare in all honesty that her
fears were unfounded, and that (for my part at least) I had only just a
natural desire to gain the good-will of a great prince. My friendship for
La Valliere was so sincere, so thorough, that I often used to superint