s entered, announcing the Duc de Richelieu.

"And now, prince, there is nothing wanting," said the Marquis de
Pompadour, laughing: "for here is he who holds the key."

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE DUC DE RICHELIEU.

"At last!" cried the duchess, seeing Richelieu enter. "Are you, then,
always the same? Your friends cannot count on you any more than your
mistresses."

"On the contrary, madame," said Richelieu, approaching the duchess, "for
to-day, more than ever, I prove to your highness that I can reconcile
everything."

"Then you have made a sacrifice for us, duke," said Madame de Maine,
laughing.

"Ten thousand times greater than you can imagine. Who do you think I
have left?"

"Madame de Villars?" asked the duchess.

"Oh no! better than that."

"Madame de Duras?"

"No."

"Madame de Nesle?"

"Bah!"

"Madame de Polignac? Ah! pardon, cardinal."

"Go on. It does not concern his eminence."

"Madame de Soubise, Madame de Gabriant, Madame de Gace?"

"No, no, no."

"Mademoiselle de Charolais?"

"I have not seen her since my last trip to the Bastille."

"Mademoiselle de Valois?"

"Oh! I intend her for my wife, when we have succeeded, and I am a
Spanish prince. No, madame; I have left, for your highness, the two most
charming grisettes."

"Grisettes! Ah! fie!" cried the duchess, with a movement of contempt, "I
did not think that you descended to such creatures."

"Creatures! two charming women! Madame Michelin and Madame Renaud. Do
you not know them? Madame Michelin, a beautiful blonde; her husband is a
carpet manufacturer; I recommend him to you, duchesse. Madame Renaud, an
adorable brunette, with blue eyes and black lashes, and whose husband
is--. Ma foi! I do not remember exactly--"

"What M. Michelin is, probably," said Pompadour, laughing.

"Pardon, duke," replied Madame de Maine, who had lost all curiosity for
Richelieu's love adventures as soon as they traveled from a certain set,
"may I venture to remind you that we met here on important business!"

"Oh, yes! we are conspiring, are we not?"

"Had you forgotten it?"

"Ma foi! a conspiracy is not one of the gayest thing's in the world,
therefore I forget it whenever I can; but that is nothing--whenever it
is necessary I can come back to it. Now let us see: how does the
conspiracy go on?"

"Here, duke, look at these letters, and you will know as much as we do."

"Oh! your highness must excuse me," said Richelieu; "but really I do no