le marry
whom they like? You forget that the king kept for himself as his
mistress her of whom we are speaking."

"Listen," said the young woman, pressing the cold hands of Raoul in her
own, "you were wrong in every way; a man of your age ought never to
leave a woman of hers alone."

"There is no longer any faith in the world, then," said Raoul.

"No, vicomte," said Montalais, quietly. "Nevertheless, let me tell you,
that if instead of loving Louise coldly and philosophically, you had
endeavored to awaken her to love--"

"Enough, I pray you, mademoiselle," said Raoul. "I feel that you are
all, of both sexes, of a different age from me. You can laugh, and you
can banter agreeably. I, mademoiselle, I loved mademoiselle de--" Raoul
could not pronounce her name--"I loved her; well! I put faith in
her--now I am quits by loving her no longer."

"Oh, vicomte!" said Montalais, pointing to his reflection in a mirror.

"I know what you mean, mademoiselle; I am much altered, am I not? Well!
do you know why? Because my face is the mirror of my heart, the inside
has changed as you see the outside has."

"You are consoled, then?" said Montalais, sharply.

"No, I shall never be consoled."

"I don't understand you, M. de Bragelonne."

"I care but little for that. I do not too well understand myself."

"You have not even tried to speak to Louise?"

"Who! I?" exclaimed the young man, with eyes flashing fire; "I!--why do
you not advise me to marry her? Perhaps the king would consent now." And
he rose from his chair full of anger.

"I see," said Montalais, "that you are not cured, and that Louise has
one enemy the more."

"One enemy the more!"

"Yes; favorites are but little beloved at the court of France."

"Oh! while she has her lover to protect her, is not that enough? She has
chosen him of such a quality that her enemies cannot prevail against
her." But, stopping all at once, "And then she has you for a friend,
mademoiselle," added he, with a shade of irony which did not glide off
the cuirass.

"Who! I?--Oh, no! I am no longer one of those whom Mademoiselle de la
Valliere deigns to look upon; but--"

This _but_, so big with menaces and storm; this _but_, which made the
heart of Raoul beat, such griefs did it presage for her whom lately he
loved so dearly; this terrible _but_, so significant in a woman like
Montalais, was interrupted by a moderately loud noise heard by the
speakers, proceeding from the alcove behi