nly at the hours of devotion. It was therefore with some
feelings both of nervousness and of curiosity that he followed his guide
down the gorgeous corridors, where art and wealth had been strewn with
so lavish a hand. The lady paused in front of the chamber door, and
turned to her companion.

"Madame wishes to speak to you of what occurred this morning," said she.
"I should advise you to say nothing to madame about your creed, for it
is the only thing upon which her heart can be hard." She raised her
finger to emphasise the warning, and tapping at the door, she pushed it
open. "I have brought Captain de Catinat, madame," said she.

"Then let the captain step in." The voice was firm, and yet sweetly
musical.

Obeying the command, De Catinat found himself in a room which was no
larger and but little better furnished than that which was allotted to
his own use. Yet, though simple, everything in the chamber was
scrupulously neat and clean, betraying the dainty taste of a refined
woman. The stamped-leather furniture, the La Savonniere carpet, the
pictures of sacred subjects, exquisite from an artist's point of view,
the plain but tasteful curtains, all left an impression half religious
and half feminine but wholly soothing. Indeed, the soft light, the high
white statue of the Virgin in a canopied niche, with a perfumed red lamp
burning before it, and the wooden _prie-dieu_ with the red-edged
prayer-book upon the top of it, made the apartment look more like a
private chapel than a fair lady's boudoir.

On each side of the empty fireplace was a little green-covered
arm-chair, the one for madame and the other reserved for the use of the
king. A small three-legged stool between them was heaped with her
work-basket and her tapestry. On the chair which was furthest from the
door, with her back turned to the light, madame was sitting as the young
officer entered. It was her favourite position, and yet there were few
women of her years who had so little reason to fear the sun, for a
healthy life and active habits had left her with a clear skin and
delicate bloom which any young beauty of the court might have envied.
Her figure was graceful and queenly, her gestures and pose full of a
natural dignity, and her voice, as he had already remarked, most sweet
and melodious. Her face was handsome rather than beautiful, set in a
statuesque classical mould, with broad white forehead, firm, delicately
sensitive mouth, and a pai