e king, on his way to
Poitiers, will stop at Blois, to visit his royal highness."

"The king here!" exclaimed Montalais, clapping her hands. "What! are we
going to see the court? Only think, Louise--the real court from Paris!
Oh, good heavens! But when will this happen, monsieur?"

"Perhaps this evening, mademoiselle; at latest, to-morrow."

Montalais lifted her shoulders in a sigh of vexation.

"No time to get ready! No time to prepare a single dress! We are as far
behind the fashions as the Poles. We shall look like portraits from the
time of Henry IV. Ah, monsieur! this is sad news you bring us!"

"But, mesdemoiselles, you will be still beautiful!"

"That's no news! Yes, we shall always be beautiful, because nature has
made us passable; but we shall be ridiculous, because the fashion will
have forgotten us. Alas! ridiculous! I shall be thought ridiculous--I!"

"And by whom?" said Louise, innocently.

"By whom? You are a strange girl, my dear. Is that a question to put
to me? I mean everybody; I mean the courtiers, the nobles; I mean the
king."

"Pardon me, my good friend; but as here every one is accustomed to see
us as we are--"

"Granted; but that is about to change, and we shall be ridiculous, even
for Blois; for close to us will be seen the fashions from Paris, and
they will perceive that we are in the fashion of Blois! It is enough to
make one despair!"

"Console yourself, mademoiselle."

"Well, so let it be! After all, so much the worse for those who do not
find me to their taste!" said Montalais, philosophically.

"They would be very difficult to please," replied Raoul, faithful to his
regular system of gallantry.

"Thank you, Monsieur le Vicomte. We were saying, then, that the king is
coming to Blois?"

"With all the court."

"Mesdemoiselles de Mancini, will they be with them?"

"No, certainly not."

"But as the king, it is said, cannot do without Mademoiselle Mary?"

"Mademoiselle, the king must do without her. M. le Cardinal will have it
so. He has exiled his nieces to Brouage."

"He!--the hypocrite!"

"Hush!" said Louise, pressing a finger on her friend's rosy lips.

"Bah! nobody can hear me. I say that old Mazarino Mazarini is a
hypocrite, who burns impatiently to make his niece Queen of France."

"That cannot be, mademoiselle, since M. le Cardinal, on the contrary,
had brought about the marriage of his majesty with the Infanta Maria
Theresa."

Montalais looked Raoul full in