at men, make herself loved--adored, even, by them,
and say at the very utmost but once in her life, 'I begin to think that
I ought not to have been what I am,--I should have detested this one
less than others.'"

"Therefore," exclaimed La Valliere, "that is what M. de Montespan has to
expect."

"Certainly; he, as well as every one else. What! have I not said that I
admit he possesses a certain superiority, and would not that be enough?
My dear child, a woman is a queen during the entire period nature
permits her to enjoy sovereign power--from fifteen to thirty-five years
of age. After that, we are free to have a heart, when we only have that
left--"

"Oh, oh!" murmured La Valliere.

"Excellent," cried Montalais; "a very masterly woman; Athenais, you will
make your way in the world."

"Do you not approve of what I say?"

"Completely," replied her laughing companion.

"You are not serious, Montalais?" said Louise.

"Yes, yes; I approve everything Athenais has just said; only--"

"Only _what?_"

"Well, I cannot carry it out. I have the firmest principles; I form
resolutions beside which the laws of the Stadtholder and of the King
of Spain are child's play; but when the moment arrives to put them into
execution, nothing comes of them."

"Your courage fails?" said Athenais, scornfully.

"Miserably so."

"Great weakness of nature," returned Athenais. "But at least you make a
choice."

"Why, no. It pleases fate to disappoint me in everything; I dream of
emperors, and I find only--"

"Aure, Aure!" exclaimed La Valliere, "for pity's sake, do not, for the
pleasure of saying something witty, sacrifice those who love you with
such devoted affection."

"Oh, I do not trouble myself much about that; those who love me are
sufficiently happy that I do not dismiss them altogether. So much the
worse for myself if I have a weakness for any one, but so much the worse
for others if I revenge myself upon them for it."

"You are right," said Athenais, "and, perhaps, you too will reach the
goal. In other words, young ladies, that is termed being a coquette.
Men, who are very silly in most things, are particularly so in
confounding, under the term of coquetry, a woman's pride, and love
of changing her sentiments as she does her dress. I, for instance, am
proud; that is to say, impregnable. I treat my admirers harshly, but
without any pretention to retain them. Men call me a coquette, because
they are vain enough to think