ence, and what he has once decided he abandons never.

I was soon aware that costumes of an unheard-of magnificence were being
executed for the Marquise. Gold, silver, precious stones abounded. I was
offered a secret view of her robe of ceremony, with a long mantle train.
I saw this extraordinarily rich garment, and was sorry in advance for the
young stranger, whose lady in waiting could not fail to eclipse her in
everything.

I then put some questions to myself,--asked myself severely if my
disapproval sprang from natural haughtiness, which would have been
possible, and even excusable, or whether, mingled with all that, was some
little agitation of jealousy and emulation.

I collected together a crowd of slight and scattered circumstances; and
in this union of several small facts, at first neglected and almost
unperceived, I distinguished on the part of the King a gradual and
increasing attachment for the governess, and at the same time a
negligence in regard to me,--a coldness, a cooling-down, at least, and
that sort of familiarity, close parent of weariness, which comes to sight
in the midst of courtesies and attentions the most satisfying and the
most frequent.

The King, in the old days, never glanced towards my clock till as late as
possible, and always at the last moment, at the last extremity. Now he
cast his eyes on it a score of times in half an hour. He contradicted me
about trifles. He explained to me ingeniously the faults, or alleged
faults, of my temper and character. If it was a question of Madame de
Maintenon, she was of a birth equal and almost superior to the rest of
the Court. He forgot himself so far as to quote before me the subtilty
of her answers or the delight of her most intimate conversation. Did he
wish to describe a noble carriage, an attitude at once easy and
distinguished, it was Madame de Maintenon's. She possessed this, she
possessed that, she possessed everything.

Soon there was not the slightest doubt left to me; and I knew, as did the
whole Court, that he openly visited the Marquise, and was glad to pass
some moments there.

These things, in truth, never lacked some plausible pretext, and he chose
the time when Madame de Montchevreuil and Mademoiselle de Nantes were
presenting their homages to Madame de Maintenon.

CHAPTER XIII.

Marie Louise, Daughter of Henrietta of England, Betrothed to the King of
Spain.--Her Affliction.--Jealousy of the King, Her Husband.

The