to the monarch, he walked from the
room.

"Louvois grows intolerable," said the king. "I know not where his
insolence will end. Were it not that he is an excellent servant, I
should have sent him from the court before this. He has his own
opinions upon everything. It was but the other day that he would have
it that I was wrong when I said that one of the windows in the Trianon
was smaller than any of the others. It was the same size, said he.
I brought Le Metre with his measures, and of course the window was, as I
had said, too small. But I see by your clock that it is four o'clock.
I must go."

"My clock, sire, is half an hour slow."

"Half an hour!" The king looked dismayed for an instant, and then began
to laugh. "Nay, in that case," said he, "I had best remain where I am,
for it is too late to go, and I can say with a clear conscience that it
was the clock's fault rather than mine."

"I trust that it was nothing of very great importance, sire," said the
lady, with a look of demure triumph in her eyes.

"By no means."

"No state affair?"

"No, no; it was only that it was the hour at which I had intended to
rebuke the conduct of a presumptuous person. But perhaps it is better
as it is. My absence will in itself convey my message, and in such a
sort that I trust I may never see that person's face more at my court.
But, ah, what is this?"

The door had been flung open, and Madame de Montespan, beautiful and
furious, was standing before them.

CHAPTER X.

AN ECLIPSE AT VERSAILLES.

Madame de Maintenon was a woman who was always full of self-restraint
and of cool resource. She had risen in an instant, with an air as if
she had at last seen the welcome guest for whom she had pined in vain.
With a frank smile of greeting, she advanced with outstretched hand.

"This is indeed a pleasure," said she.

But Madame de Montespan was very angry, so angry that she was evidently
making strong efforts to keep herself within control, and to avoid
breaking into a furious outburst. Her face was very pale, her lips
compressed, and her blue eyes had the set stare and the cold glitter of
a furious woman. So for an instant they faced each other, the one
frowning, the other smiling, two of the most beautiful and queenly women
in France. Then De Montespan, disregarding her rival's outstretched
hand, turned towards the king, who had been looking at her with a
darkening face.

"I fear that I intrude, sire.