up with the petty squabbles of a household.

"Well," said Philip, "tell me one thing."

"What is that?"

"Why does my wife retain an English court about her?" said Philip, as
he crossed his arms and looked his mother steadily in the face, as if he
were convinced that she could not answer the question.

"For a very simple reason," returned Anne of Austria; "because the
English are her countrymen, because they have expended large sums in
order to accompany her to France, and because it would hardly be polite
--not politic, certainly--to dismiss abruptly those members of the
English nobility who have not shrunk from any devotion or sacrifice."

"A wonderful sacrifice indeed," returned Philip, "to desert a wretched
country to come to a beautiful one, where a greater effect can
be produced for a guinea that can be procured elsewhere for four!
Extraordinary devotion, really, to travel a hundred leagues in company
with a woman one is in love with!"

"In love, Philip! think what you are saying. Who is in love with
Madame?"

"The Duke of Buckingham. Perhaps you will defend him, too?"

Anne of Austria blushed and smiled at the same time. The name of the
Duke of Buckingham recalled certain recollections of a very tender and
melancholy nature. "The Duke of Buckingham?" she murmured.

"Yes; one of those arm-chair soldiers--"

"The Buckinghams are loyal and brave," said Anne of Austria,
courageously.

"This is too bad; my own mother takes the part of my wife's lover
against me," exclaimed Philip, incensed to such an extent that his weak
organization was affected almost to tears.

"Philip, my son," exclaimed Anne of Austria, "such an expression is
unworthy of you. Your wife has no lover; and, had she one, it would not
be the Duke of Buckingham. The members of that family, I repeat,
are loyal and discreet, and the rights of hospitality are sure to be
respected by them."

"The Duke of Buckingham is an Englishman, madame," said Philip, "and may
I ask if the English so very religiously respect what belongs to princes
of France?"

Anne blushed a second time, and turned aside under the pretext of taking
her pen from her desk again, but in reality to conceal her confusion
from her son. "Really, Philip," she said, "you seem to discover
expressions for the purpose of embarrassing me, and your anger blinds
you while it alarms me; reflect a little."

"There is no need for reflection, madame. I can see with my own eyes."

"W