o rejoin the queens; he knew he owed
them--one especially--a compensation for his long absence. But Madame
was not admitted to Monsieur's apartments, and she was informed that
Monsieur was asleep. The king, instead of being met by Maria Theresa
smiling, as was usual with her, found Anne of Austria in the gallery
watching for his return, who advanced to meet him, and taking him by the
hand, led him to her own apartment. No one ever knew what was the nature
of the conversation which took place between them, or rather what it was
that the queen-mother said to Louis XIV.; but the general tenor of the
interview might certainly be guessed from the annoyed expression of the
king's face as he left her.

But we, whose mission it is to interpret all things, as it is also to
communicate our interpretations to our readers,--we should fail in
our duty, if we were to leave them in ignorance of the result of this
interview. It will be found sufficiently detailed, at least we hope so,
in the following chapter.

Chapter XXXVII. The Butterfly-Chase.

The king, on retiring to his apartments to give some directions and
to arrange his ideas, found on his toilette-glass a small note, the
handwriting of which seemed disguised. He opened it and read--"Come
quickly, I have a thousand things to say to you." The king and Madame
had not been separated a sufficiently long time for these thousand
things to be the result of the three thousand which they had been
saying to each other during the route which separated Vulaines from
Fontainebleau. The confused and hurried character of the note gave the
king a great deal to reflect upon. He occupied himself but slightly with
his toilette, and set off to pay his visit to Madame. The princess, who
did not wish to have the appearance of expecting him, had gone into the
gardens with the ladies of her suite. When the king was informed that
Madame had left her apartments and had gone for a walk in the gardens,
he collected all the gentlemen he could find, and invited them to follow
him. He found Madame engaged in chasing butterflies, on a large lawn
bordered with heliotrope and flowering broom. She was looking on as the
most adventurous and youngest of her ladies ran to and fro, and with her
back turned to a high hedge, very impatiently awaited the arrival of the
king, with whom she had appointed the rendezvous. The sound of many feet
upon the gravel walk made her turn round. Louis XIV. was hatless, he
h