anta could never get used to our dishes. The
Senora Molina, well furnished with silver kitchen utensils, has a sort of
private kitchen or scullery reserved for her own use, and there it is
that the manufacture takes place of clove-scented chocolate, brown soups
and gravies, stews redolent with garlic, capsicums, and nutmeg, and all
that nauseous pastry in which the young Infanta revels.

Ever since La Valliere's lasting triumph, the Queen seems to have got it
into her head that she is despised; and at table I have often heard her
say, "They will help themselves to everything, and won't leave me
anything."

I am not unjust, and I admit that a husband's public attachments are not
exactly calculated to fill his legitimate consort with joy. But,
fortunately for the Infanta, the King abounds in rectitude and
good-nature. This very good-nature it is which prompts him to use all
the consideration of which a noble nature is capable, and the more his
amours give the Queen just cause for anxiety, the more does he redouble
his kindness and consideration towards her. Of this she is sensible.
Thus she acquiesces, and, as much through tenderness as social tact, she
never reproaches or upbraids him with anything. Nor does the King
scruple to admit that, to secure so good-natured a partner, it is well
worth the trouble of going to fetch her from the other end of the world.

CHAPTER XII.

Madame de la Valliere Becomes Duchess.--Her Family is Resigned.--Her
Children Recognised by the King.--Madame Colbert Their Governess.--The
King's Passion Grows More Serious.--Love and Friendship.

Out of affection and respect for the Queen-mother, the King had until
then sought to conceal the ardour of his attachment for Mademoiselle de
la Valliere. It was after the six months of mourning that he shook off
all restraint, showing that, like any private person, he felt himself
master of his actions and his inclinations.

He gave the Vaujours estate to his mistress, after formally constituting
it a duchy, and, owing to the two children of his duchy, Mademoiselle de
la Valliere assumed the title of Duchess. What a fuss she made at this
time! All that was styled disinterestedness, modesty. Not a bit of it.
It was pusillanimity and a sense of servile fear. La Valliere would have
liked to enjoy her handsome lover in the shade and security of mystery,
without exposing herself to the satire of courtiers and of the public,
and, above all