,
was Malicorne's _chef-d'oeuvre_. As nothing is so probable as
improbability, so natural as romance, this kind of Arabian Nights story
succeeded perfectly with Madame. The first thing she did, was to send
Montalais away, and then three days, or rather three nights, afterward,
she had La Valliere removed. She gave to the latter one of the small
rooms on the top story, situated immediately over the apartments
allotted to the gentlemen of Monsieur's suit. One story only, that is to
say, a mere flooring, separated the maids of honor from the officers and
gentlemen of her husband's household. A private staircase which was
placed under Madame de Navailles' surveillance, was the only means of
communication. For greater safety, Madame de Navailles, who had heard of
his majesty's previous attempts, had the windows of the rooms and the
openings of the chimneys carefully barred. There was, therefore, every
possible security provided for Mademoiselle de la Valliere, whose room
bore more resemblance to a cage than to anything else.

When Mademoiselle de la Valliere was in her own room, and she was there
very frequently, for Madame scarcely ever had any occasion for her
services, since she once knew she was safe under Madame de Navailles'
inspection, Mademoiselle de la Valliere had no other means of amusing
herself than that of looking through the bars of her windows. It
happened, therefore, that one morning, as she was looking out as usual,
she perceived Malicorne at one of the windows exactly opposite to her
own. He held a carpenter's rule in his hand, was surveying the
buildings, and seemed to be adding up some figures on paper. La Valliere
recognized Malicorne, and bowed to him; Malicorne, in his turn, replied
by a profound bow, and disappeared from the window. She was surprised at
this marked coolness, so unusual with his unfailing good humor, but she
remembered that he had lost his appointment on her account, and that he
could hardly be very amiably disposed toward her, since, in all
probability, she would never be in a position to make him any recompense
for what he had lost. She knew how to forgive offenses, and with still
greater reason could she sympathize with misfortune. La Valliere would
have asked Montalais her opinion, if she had been there; but she was
absent, it being the hour she usually devoted to her own correspondence.
Suddenly, La Valliere observed something thrown from the window where
Malicorne had been stand