ted, Louis appeared to her to be less guilty. In fact, he was
ignorant of everything. What must he have thought of the obstinacy with
which she remained silent? Impatient and irritable as the king was known
to be, it was extraordinary that he had been able to preserve his temper
so long. And yet, had it been her own case, she undoubtedly would not
have acted in such a manner; she would have understood everything, have
guessed everything. Yes, but she was nothing but a poor simple-minded
girl, and not a great and powerful monarch. Oh! if he did but come, if
he would but come!--how eagerly she would forgive him for all he had
just made her suffer! how much more tenderly she would love him because
she had so suffered! And so she sat, with her head bent forward in eager
expectation toward the door, her lips slightly parted, as if--and Heaven
forgive her for the thought, she mentally exclaimed--they were awaiting
the kiss which the king's lips had in the morning so sweetly indicated,
when he pronounced the word _love_! If the king did not come, at least
he would write! it was a second chance; a chance less delightful
certainly than the other, but which would show an affection just as
strong, but only more timorous in its nature. Oh! how she would devour
his letter, how eager she would be to answer it; and when the messenger
who had brought it had left her, how she would kiss, read over and over
again, press upon her heart the happy paper which would have brought her
ease of mind, tranquillity, and perfect happiness. At all events, if
the king did not come; if, however, the king did not write, he could not
do otherwise than send Saint-Aignan, or Saint-Aignan could not do
otherwise than come of his own accord. Even if it were a third person,
how openly she would speak to him; the royal presence would not be there
to freeze her words upon her tongue, and then no suspicious feeling
would remain a moment longer in the king's heart.

Everything with La Valliere, heart and look, body and mind, was
concentrated in eager expectation. She said to herself that there was an
hour left in which to indulge hope; that until midnight had struck, the
king might come, or write, or send; that at midnight only would every
expectation be useless, every hope lost. Whenever there was any noise in
the palace, the poor girl fancied she was the cause of it; whenever she
heard any one pass in the courtyard below, she imagined they were
messengers of the