impression on the heart of the young girl
which could never be effaced. She thought it would be heaven to live
in his presence, to watch his movements, to listen to his words, even
though no word were addressed to her.

Soon after this the Duke of Orleans died. His court was broken up.
Louise was appointed to a place as one of the maids of honor of the
Princess Henrietta. She joined the court of _Madame_ in Paris just
before their departure for Fontainebleau, to which place, of course,
she accompanied them.

Here, in the midst of scenes of most brilliant festivities, Louise
feasted her eyes with the sight of the king. Louis was exceedingly
fond of exhibiting his grace as a dancer. Among these entertainments,
the king took part in a ballet with Henrietta, he, in very
picturesque dress, representing the goddess Ceres. At the close of the
ballet, Louise, bewildered by the scene, and oppressed by inexplicable
emotions, proposed to three of her lady companions that they should
take a short walk into the dim recesses of the forest. It was a
brilliant night, and the cool breeze fanned their fevered cheeks. As
the four young ladies retired, one of the companions of the king
laughingly suggested to him that they should follow them, and learn
the secret of their hearts.

The ladies seated themselves at the foot of a large tree, where they
began to discuss the scenes and actors of the evening. The king and
his companion, concealed at a short distance, heard every word they
uttered. Louise was for a time silent, but, being appealed to upon
some subject, with very emphatic utterance remarked that she wondered
that they could see any body, or think of any body but the king, when
he was present. Upon her companions rallying her for being so much
carried away by the splendors of royalty, she declared "that it was
not the king, as a _king_, who excited her admiration, but it was
Louis, as the most perfect of men; that his crown added nothing to
his splendor of person or mind."

The king could not see the speaker; he could only hear her
enthusiastic and impassioned voice. The parties returned to the
chateau. Louise was very much chagrined that she should have allowed
herself so imprudently to express her feelings. She knew that the
conversation would be repeated, and feared that she should become a
subject of ridicule for the whole court. In the interesting account
which she gives of these events in her autobiography, she says that