bitterly. He had not been either
seen or heard. He cautiously approached the opening, and listened, the
sight of so much grief having aroused his curiosity. Not only was the
young queen weeping, but she was complaining also. "Yes," she said, "the
king neglects me, the king devotes himself to pleasures and amusements
only, in which I have no share."

"Patience, patience, my daughter," said Anne of Austria, in Spanish; and
then, also in Spanish, added some words of advice, which Monsieur did
not understand. The queen replied by accusations, mingled with sighs and
sobs, among which Monsieur often distinguished the word _banos_, which
Maria Theresa accentuated with spiteful anger.

"The baths," said Monsieur to himself; "it seems it is the baths that
have put her out." And he endeavored to put together the disconnected
phrases which he had been able to understand. It was easy to guess that
the queen was complaining bitterly, and that, if Anne of Austria did not
console her, she at least endeavored to do so. Monsieur was afraid to
be detected listening at the door and he therefore made up his mind to
cough; the two queens turned round at the sound and Monsieur entered. At
sight of the prince, the young queen rose precipitately, and dried her
tears. Monsieur, however, knew the people he had to deal with too
well, and was naturally too polite to remain silent, and he accordingly
saluted them. The queen-mother smiled pleasantly at him, saying, "What
do you want, Philip?"

"I?--nothing," stammered Monsieur. "I was looking for--"

"Whom?"

"I was looking for Madame."

"Madame is at the baths."

"And the king?" said Monsieur, in a tone which made the queen tremble.

"The king also, the whole court as well," replied Anne of Austria.

"Except you, madame," said Monsieur.

"Oh! I," said the young queen, "I seem to terrify all those who amuse
themselves."

"And so do I,--judging from appearances," rejoined Monsieur.

Anne of Austria made a sigh to her daughter-in-law, who withdrew,
weeping.

Monsieur's brows contracted, as he remarked aloud, "What a cheerless
house. What do you think of it, mother?"

"Why, no; everybody here is pleasure-hunting."

"Yes, indeed, that is the very thing that makes those dull who do not
care for pleasure."

"In what a tone you say that, Philip."

"Upon my word, madame, I speak as I think."

"Explain yourself; what is the matter?"

"Ask my sister-in-law, rather, who, just now, was