oon, to listen to talk which was not tainted with flattery, and to
hear opinions which were not framed to please his ear, were the
occupations now of his happiest hours. And then her influence over him
was all so good! She spoke of his kingly duties, of his example to his
subjects, of his preparation for the World beyond, and of the need for
an effort to snap the guilty ties which he had formed. She was as good
as a confessor--a confessor with a lovely face and a perfect arm.

And now he knew that the time had come when he must choose between her
and De Montespan. Their influences were antagonistic. They could not
continue together. He stood between virtue and vice, and he must
choose. Vice was very attractive too, very comely, very witty, and
holding him by that chain of custom which is so hard to shake off.
There were hours when his nature swayed strongly over to that side, and
when he was tempted to fall back into his old life. But Bossuet and
Pere la Chaise were ever at his elbows to whisper encouragement, and,
above all, there was Madame de Maintenon to remind him of what was due
to his position and to his six-and-forty years. Now at last he had
braced himself for a supreme effort. There was no safety for him while
his old favourite was at court. He knew himself too well to have any
faith in a lasting change so long as she was there ever waiting for his
moment of weakness. She must be persuaded to leave Versailles, if
without a scandal it could be done. He would be firm when he met her in
the afternoon, and make her understand once for all that her reign was
forever over.

Such were the thoughts which ran through the king's head as he bent over
the rich crimson cushion which topped his _prie-dieu_ of carved oak.
He knelt in his own enclosure to the right of the altar, with his guards
and his immediate household around him, while the court, ladies and
cavaliers, filled the chapel. Piety was a fashion now, like dark
overcoats and lace cravats, and no courtier was so worldly-minded as not
to have had a touch of grace since the king had taken to religion.
Yet they looked very bored, these soldiers and seigneurs, yawning and
blinking over the missals, while some who seemed more intent upon their
devotions were really dipping into the latest romance of Scudery or
Calpernedi, cunningly bound up in a sombre cover. The ladies, indeed,
were more devout, and were determined that all should see it, for each
ha