d sort of climate?"
"Madame, I have sought to shut my eyes to many things, being solely
conscious of the horribly forlorn condition in which I find myself in my
native country."
"Have you reckoned the distance? Did the Princess confess that she was
going to carry you off to the other end of the world? For her city of
Lisbon, surrounded by precipices, is more than three hundred leagues from
Paris."
"At the age of three I voyaged to America, returning hither when I was
eleven."
"I am vexed with Mademoiselle d'Aumale for wanting to rob us of so
charming a treasure.
[Mademoiselle d'Aumale, daughter of the Duc de Nemours, of the House of
Savoy. She was a blonde, pleasant-mannered enough, but short of stature.
Her head was too big for her body; and this head of hers was full of
conspiracies and coups d'etat. She dethroned her husband in order to
marry his brother.--EDITOR'S NOTE.]
But has she any right to act in this way? Do you think her capable of
contributing to your pleasure or your happiness? This young Queen of
Portugal, under the guise of good-humour, hides a violent and irascible
temperament. I believe her to be thoroughly selfish; suppose that she
neglects and despises you, after having profited by your company to
while away the tedium of her journey? Take my word for it, madame, you
had better stay here with us; for there is no real society but in
France, no wit but in our great world, no real happiness but in Paris.
Draw up another petition as quickly as possible, and send it to me. I
will present it myself, and to tell you this is tantamount to a promise
that your plea shall succeed."
Mademoiselle d'Aubigne, all flushed with emotion, assured me of her
gratitude with the ingenuous eloquence peculiar to herself. We embraced
as two friends of the Albret set should do, and three days later, the
King received a new petition, not signed with the name of Scarron, but
with that of D'Aubigne.
The pension of two thousand francs, granted three years before her death
by the Queen-mother, was renewed. Madame Scarron had the honour of
making her courtesy to the King, who thought her handsome, but grave in
demeanour, and in a loud, clear voice, he said to her, "Madame, I kept
you waiting; I was jealous of your friends."
The Queen of Portugal knew that I had deprived her of her secretary,
fellow-gossip, reader, Spanish teacher, stewardess, confidante, and
lady-in-waiting. She wrote to me complai
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