eve it; no, I positively can't; but don't
let this go further!"

"Heaven forbid!" answered Fleuri, bowing, and the courtier passed on to
whisper his intelligence to others. "Who's that gentleman?" I asked.

"The Marquis de Dangeau," answered Fleuri; "a nobleman of great quality,
who keeps a diary of all the king says and does. It will perhaps be
a posthumous publication, and will show the world of what importance
nothings can be made. I dare say, Count, you have already, in England,
seen enough of a court to know that there are some people who are as
human echoes, and have no existence except in the noise occasioned by
another."

I took care that my answer should not be a witticism, lest Fleuri should
think I was attempting to rival him; and so we passed on in an excellent
humour with each other.

We mounted the grand staircase, and came to an ante-chamber, which,
though costly and rich, was not remarkably conspicuous for splendour.
Here the Bishop requested me to wait for a moment. Accordingly, I amused
myself with looking over some engravings of different saints. Meanwhile,
my companion passed through another door, and I was alone.

After an absence of nearly ten minutes, he returned. "Madame de
Maintenon," said he in a whisper, "is but poorly to-day. However, she
has eagerly consented to see you; follow me!"

So saying, the ecclesiastical courtier passed on, with myself at
his heels. We came to the door of a second chamber, at which Fleuri
_scraped_ gently. We were admitted, and found therein three ladies, one
of whom was reading, a second laughing, and a third yawning, and entered
into another chamber, where, alone and seated by the window in a large
chair, with one foot on a stool, in an attitude that rather reminded
me of my mother, and which seems to me a favourite position with all
devotees, we found an old woman without _rouge_, plainly dressed, with
spectacles on her nose and a large book on a little table before her.
With a most profound salutation, Frejus approached, and taking me by the
hand, said,--

"Will Madame suffer me to present to her the Count Devereux?"

Madame de Maintenon, with an air of great meekness and humility, bowed
a return to the salutation. "The son of Madame la Marechale de Devereux
will always be most welcome to me!" Then, turning towards us, she
pointed to two stools, and, while we were seating ourselves, said,--

"And how did you leave my excellent friend?"

"When, Madame