thanks to La Valliere for
the honor she conferred upon him. Then, turning toward the king, he
said:

"Sire, our man is here." La Valliere looked at the king with some
uneasiness.

"Mademoiselle," said the king, "if I have begged you to do me the honor
of coming down here, it was from an interested motive. I have procured a
most admirable portrait-painter, who is celebrated for the fidelity of
his likenesses, and I wish you to be kind enough to authorize him to
paint yours. Besides, if you positively wish it, the portrait shall
remain in your own possession." La Valliere blushed.

"You see," said the king to her, "we shall not be three as you wished,
but four instead. And, so long as we are not alone, there can be as many
present as you please." La Valliere gently pressed her royal lover's
hand.

"Shall we pass into the next room, sire?" said Saint-Aignan, opening the
door to let his guests precede him. The king walked behind La Valliere,
and fixed his eyes lingeringly and passionately upon her neck as white
as snow, upon which her long fair ringlets fell in heavy masses. La
Valliere was dressed in a thick silk robe of pearl gray color, with a
tinge of rose, with jet ornaments, which displayed to greater effect the
dazzling purity of her skin, holding in her slender and transparent
hands a bouquet of heartsease, Bengal roses, and clematis, surrounded
with leaves of the tenderest green, above which uprose, like a tiny
goblet shedding perfumes, a Haarlem tulip of gray and violet tints, of a
pure and beautiful species, which had cost the gardener five years' toil
of combinations and the king five thousand francs. Louis had placed this
bouquet in La Valliere's hand as he saluted her. In the room, the door
of which Saint-Aignan had just opened, a young man was standing, dressed
in a loose velvet coat, with beautiful black eyes and long brown hair.
It was the painter; his canvas was quite ready, and his palette prepared
for use. He bowed to La Valliere with that grave curiosity of an artist
who is studying his model, saluted the king discreetly, as if he did not
recognize him, and as he would, consequently, have saluted any other
gentleman. Then, leading Mademoiselle de la Valliere to the seat which
he had arranged for her, he begged her to sit down. The young girl
assumed an attitude graceful and unrestrained, her hands occupied, and
her limbs reclining on cushions; and in order that her gaze might not
assume a vague or