n, were
present during the operation. Indeed, the greatest precautions had
been adopted to keep the fact that an operation was to be performed a
profound secret. During the operation the king uttered not a groan. It
was successful. In gratitude he conferred upon the skillful operator
who had relieved him from anguish and saved his life an estate valued
at more than fifty thousand crowns.

Weary of every thing else, the king now sought to find some little
interest in building. The renowned architect, Mansard, whose genius
still embellishes our most beautiful edifices, was commissioned to
erect a pavilion on the grounds of Versailles in imitation of an
Italian villa. Thus rose, within a year, the _Grand Trianon_, which
subsequently became so celebrated as the favorite rural residence of
Maria Antoinette.

[Illustration: THE TRIANON.]

[Illustration: MARLY.]

Most men who, with vast wealth, attempt to build a mansion which shall
eclipse that of all their neighbors, and which shall be perfect in all
the appliances of comfort and luxury, find themselves, in the end,
bitterly disappointed. This was pre-eminently the case with Louis XIV.
The palace of Versailles, still unfinished, had already cost him
countless millions. But it did not please the king. It had cold and
cheerless grandeur, but no attractions as a home. The king looked with
weary eyes upon the mountain pile of marble which had risen at his
bidding, and found it about as uncongenial for a home as would be
the Cathedral of Notre Dame. Disgusted with the etiquette which
enslaved him, satiated with sensual indulgence, and having exhausted
all the fountains of worldly pleasure, with waning powers of body and
of mind, it is not possible that any thing could have satisfied the
world-weary king.

He had other palaces. None suited him. The Tuileries and the Louvre
were in the heart of the noisy city. The banqueting hall at St.
Germain overlooked the sepulchre of St. Denis, where the grave-worm
held its banquet. Fontainebleau was at too great a distance from the
capital. To reach it required a carriage drive of four or five hours.
Vincennes, notwithstanding the grandeur of the antique, time-worn
castle, was gloomy in its surroundings, inconvenient in its internal
arrangements--a prison rather than a palace.

About nine miles from Paris, upon the left bank of the Seine, there
reposed the silent village of Marly. The king selected that as the
spot upon which he woul