re was a new rival too in the field, the Abbe de Polignac.

Pleasing, nay most fascinating in manner, the Abbe was a man to gain all
hearts. He stopped at no flattery to succeed in this. One day when
following the King through the gardens of Marly, it came on to rain.
The King considerately noticed the Abbe's dress, little calculated to
keep off rain. "It is no matter, Sire," said De Polignac, "the rain of
Marly does not wet." People laughed much at this, and these words were a
standing reproach to the soft-spoken Abbe.

One of the means by which the Abbe gained the favour of the King was by
being the lover of Madame du Maine. His success at length was great in
every direction. He even envied the situations of Nangis and Maulevrier;
and sought to participate in the same happiness. He took the same road.
Madame d'O and the Marechale de Coeuvres became his friends.

He sought to be heard, and was heard. At last he faced the danger of the
Swiss, and on fine nights was seen with the Duchess in the gardens.
Nangis diminished in favour. Maulevrier on his return increased in fury.
The Abbe met with the same fate as they: everything was perceived: people
talked about the matter in whispers, but silence was kept. This triumph,
in spite of his age, did not satisfy the Abbe: he aimed at something more
solid. He wished to arrive at the cardinalship, and to further his views
he thought it advisable to ingratiate himself into the favour of Monsieur
de Bourgogne. He sought introduction to them through friends of mine,
whom I warned against him as a man without scruple, and intent only upon
advancing himself. My warnings were in vain. My friends would not heed
me, and the Abbe de Polignac succeeded in gaining the confidence of
Monsieur de Bourgogne, as well as the favour of Madame de Bourgogne.

Maulevrier had thus two sources of annoyance--the Abbe de Polignac and
Nangis. Of the latter he showed himself so jealous, that Madame de
Maulevrier, out of pique, made advances to him. Nangis, to screen
himself the better, replied to her. Maulevrier perceived this. He knew
his wife to be sufficiently wicked to make him fear her. So many
troubles of heart and brain transported him. He lost his head.

One day the Marechale de Coeuvres came to see him, apparently on some
message of reconciliation. He shut the door upon her; barricaded her
within, and through the door quarrelled with her, even to abuse, for an
hour, during which she had the pat