he figure as well as the dress? There was the Princess
Charlotte Elizabeth. It was but yesterday that we cut her gown. She
was short, madame, but thick. Oh, it is incredible how thick she was!
She uses more cloth than madame, though she is two hand-breadths
shorter. Ah, I am sure that the good God never meant people to be as
thick as that. But then, of course, she is Bavarian and not French."

But madame was paying little heed to the gossip of the dressmaker.
Her eyes were fixed upon the statue in the corner, and her lips were
moving in prayer--prayer that she might be worthy of this great destiny
which had come so suddenly upon her, a poor governess; that she might
walk straight among the pitfalls which surrounded her upon every side;
that this night's work might bring a blessing upon France and upon the
man whom she loved. There came a discreet tap at the door to break in
upon her prayer.

"It is Bontems, madame," said Mademoiselle Nanon. "He says that the
king is ready."

"Then we shall not keep him waiting. Come, mademoiselle, and may God
shed His blessing upon what we are about to do!"

The little party assembled in the king's ante-room, and started from
there to the private chapel. In front walked the portly bishop, clad in
a green vestment, puffed out with the importance of the function, his
missal in his hand, and his fingers between the pages at the service
_de matrimoniis_. Beside him strode his almoner, and two little
servitors of the court in crimson cassocks bearing lighted torches.
The king and Madame de Maintenon walked side by side, she quiet and
composed, with gentle bearing and downcast eyes, he with a flush on his
dark cheeks, and a nervous, furtive look in his eyes, like a man who
knows that he is in the midst of one of the great crises of his life.
Behind them, in solemn silence, followed a little group of chosen
witnesses, the lean, silent Pere la Chaise, Louvois, scowling heavily at
the bride, the Marquis de Charmarante, Bontems, and Mademoiselle Nanon.

The torches shed a strong yellow light upon this small band as they
advanced slowly through the corridors and _salons_ which led to the
chapel, and they threw a garish glare upon the painted walls and
ceilings, flashing back from gold-work and from mirror, but leaving long
trailing shadows in the corners. The king glanced nervously at these
black recesses, and at the portraits of his ancestors and relations
which lined the walls.