be raised higher in the peerage, and might look to being made a prince at
last, and styled Highness as soon as the contract had been signed.

This caused some doubt and reflection. "The King, my cousin," said
Mademoiselle, "is somewhat strict in matters of this sort. He seems to
think that the royal family is a new arch-saint, at whom one may look
only when prostrate in adoration; all contract therewith is absolutely
forbidden. I begin to feel uneasy about this; yes, Lauzun, I have fears
for our love and marriage."

"Are you, then, afraid?" asked Lauzun, quite crestfallen.

"I knew how to point the Bastille cannon at the troops of the King," she
replied; "but he was very young then. No matter, I will go and see him;
if he is my King, I am his cousin; if he has his crotchets, I have my
love and my will. He can't do anything, my dear Lauzun; I love you as
once he loved La Valliere, as to-day he loves Montespan; I am not afraid
of him. As for the permission, I know our history by heart, and I will
prove to him by a hundred examples that, from the time of Charlemagne up
to the present time, widows and daughters of kings have married mere
noblemen. These nobleman may have been most meritorious,--I only know
them from history,--but not one of them was as worthy as you."

So saying, she asked for her fan, her gloves, and her horses, and
attended by her grooms-in-waiting, she went to the King in person.

The King listened to her from beginning to end, and then remarked, "You
refused the Kings of Denmark, Portugal, Spain, and England, and you wish
to marry my captain of the guard, the Marquis de Lauzun?"

"Yes, Sire, for I place him above all monarchs,--yourself alone
excepted."

"Do you love him immensely?"

"More than I can possibly say; a thousand, a hundred thousand times more
than myself."

"Do you think he is equally devoted to you?"--"That would be impossible,"
she tranquilly answered; "but his love for me is delicate, tender; and
such friendship suffices me."

"My cousin, in all that there is self-interest. I entreat you to
reflect. The world, as you know, is a mocking world; you want to excite
universal derision and injure the respect which is due to the place that
I fill."

"Ah, Sire, do not wound me! I fling myself at your feet. Have
compassion upon M. de Lauzun, and pity my tears. Do not exercise your
power; let him be the consolation of my life; let me marry him."

The King, no longer able to hide his