“Oh, sire! what do you say?” cried Louise, in alarm.
“You do not quite understand me, Louise, since you get offended at my very first word; first of all, do you know to whom the apartments underneath belong?”
“To M. de Guiche, sire, I believe.”
“Not at all; they are M. de Saint-Aignan’s.”
“Are you sure?” cried La Valliere; and this exclamation which escaped from the young girl’s joyous heart made the king’s heart throb with delight.
“Yes, to Saint-Aignan, our friend,” he said.
“But, sire,” returned La Valliere, “I cannot visit M. de Saint-Aignan’s rooms any more than I could M. de Guiche’s. It is impossible—impossible.”
“And yet, Louise, I should have thought that, under the safe-conduct of the king, you would venture anything.”
“Under the safe-conduct of the king,” she said, with a look full of tenderness.
“You have faith in my word, I hope, Louise?”