ill dispose of it. If my relatives do not show the interest
in you which your fatherless state should inspire, renounce this world
soon, where, separated from your father, there exists for you but danger
and misfortune. Two of my ancestors left their property to the nuns of
Saint Bernard at Gomer-Fontaines, as they are perfectly well aware. Go to
them in all confidence; they will receive you without a dowry even; it is
their duty to do so. If, disregarding my last counsel, you go astray in
the world, from the eternal abodes on high I will watch over you; I will
appear to you, if God empower me to do so; and, at any rate, from time to
time I will knock at the door of your heart to rouse you from your
baleful slumber and draw your attention to the sweet paths of light that
lead to God."

This speech of a dying father was graven upon the heart of a young girl
both timid and sensitive. She never forgot it; and it needed the fierce,
inexplicable passion which took possession of her soul to captivate her
and carry her away so far.

Before becoming attached to the King, she opened out her heart to me with
natural candour; and whenever in the country she observed the turrets or
the spire of a monastery, she sighed, and I saw her beautiful blue eyes
fill with tears.

She was maid of honour to the Princess Henrietta of England, and I filled
a like office. Our two companions, being the most quick-witted, durst
not talk about their love-affairs before Louise, so convinced were we of
her modesty, and almost of her piety.

In spite of that, as she was gentle, intelligent, and well-bred, the
Princess plainly preferred her to the other three. In temperament they
suited each other to perfection.

The King frequently came to the Palais Royal, where the bright, pleasant
conversation of his sister-in-law made amends for the inevitable boredom
which one suffered when with the Queen.

Being brought in such close contact with the King, who in private life is
irresistibly attractive, Mademoiselle de la Valliere conceived a violent
passion for him; yet, owing to modesty or natural timidity, it was plain
that she carefully sought to hide her secret. One fine night she and two
young persons of her own age were seated under a large oak-tree in the
grounds of Saint Germain. The Marquis de Wringhen, seeing them in the
moonlight, said to the King, who was walking with him, "Let us turn
aside, Sire, in this direction; yonder there are three soli