"Sire, that is in some degree your own fault, and your majesty alone has made the position such as it is."
"You are right."
"In that case, therefore, the means to be happiness is to fancy yourself satisfied, and to wait."
"Wait! you know that word, then?"
"There, there, sire—do not despair; I have already been at work on your behalf—I have still other resources in store." The king shook his head in a despairing manner.
"What, sire! have you not been satisfied hitherto?"
"Oh! yes, indeed yes, my dear Saint-Aignan; but find, for Heaven's sake, find some further means yet."
"Sire, I undertake to do my best, and that is all I can do."
The king wished to see the portrait again, as he was unable to see the original. He pointed out several alterations to the painter, and left the room, and then Saint-Aignan dismissed the artist. The easel, paints, and painter himself had scarcely gone, when Malicorne showed his head at the doorway. He was received by Saint-Aignan with open arms, but still with a little sadness, for the cloud which had passed across the royal sun, veiled, in its turn, the faithful satellite, and Malicorne at a glance perceived the melancholy look which was visible upon Saint-Aignan's face.
"Oh, Monsieur le Comte," he said, "how sad you seem!"