and relatives, who nearly
all were very devout.

On this head, however, she soon saw that such fears were exaggerated. The
Marquise de Saint-Remy was but slightly scandalised at what was going on.
She and the Marquis de Saint-Remy, her second husband, strictly proper
though they were, came to greet their daughter when proclaimed duchess.
And when, a few days afterwards, the King declared the rank of the two
children to the whole of assembled Parliament, the two families of
Saint-Remy and La Valliere offered congratulations to the Duchess, and
received those of all Paris.

M. Colbert, who owed everything to the King, entrusted Madame Colbert
with the education of the new prince and princess; they were brought up
under the eyes of this statesman, who for everything found time and
obligingness. The girl, lovely as love itself, took the name of
Mademoiselle de Blois, while to her little brother was given the title of
Comte de Vermandois.

It was just about this time that I noticed the beginning of the monarch's
serious attachment for me. Till then it had been only playful badinage,
good-humoured teasing, a sort of society play, in which the King was
rehearsing his part as a lover. I was at length bound to admit that
chaff of this sort might end in something serious, and his Majesty begged
me to let him have La Valliere for some time longer.

I have already said that, while becoming her rival, I still remained her
friend. Of this she had countless proofs, and when, at long intervals, I
saw her again in her dismal retreat, her good-nature, unchanging as this
was, caused her to receive and welcome me as one welcomes those one
loves.

CHAPTER XIII.

First Vocation of Mademoiselle de la Valliere.--The King Surprises His
Mistress.--She is Forced to Retire to a Convent.--The King Hastens to
Take Her Back.--She Was Not Made for Court Life.--Her Farewell to the
King.--Sacrifice.--The Abbe de Bossuet.

What I am now about to relate, I have from her own lips, nor am I the
only one to whom she made such recitals and avowals.

Her father died when she was quite young, and, when dying, foresaw that
his widow, being without fortune or constancy, would ere long marry
again. To little Louise he was devotedly attached. Ardently embracing
her, he addressed her thus:

"In losing me, my poor little Louise, you lose all. What little there is
of my inheritance ought, undoubtedly, to belong to you; but I know your
mother; she w