As the failing light warned her that night was approaching, she put aside her work, seated herself beside an alcoved window which opened upon a terrace, and listened to the wind, each moment growing more boisterous among the neighbouring forests that topped the hills towards Saint-Cloud.
Suddenly the door opened, and Madame de Montespan appeared. After saluting La Vallière, she seated herself in an easy-chair opposite to her. Her bearing was greatly changed. No longer subservient and flattering, she was now confident, familiar, and domineering. Her eyes wandered round the room with a defiant expression. The very tone of her voice showed how much she assumed upon the consciousness of favour. She was more beautiful than ever; many jewels adorned her neck and hair which she had never worn before.
"Louise," said she, with an air which, if intended to be gracious, was only patronising, "I can only stay for an instant. How dismal you look! what is the matter?"
Louise shook her head despondingly. "Nothing more than usual."
"The Queen is just arrived from Saint-Germain; I am in attendance. I escaped for a few minutes, accompanied by the Comte de Lauzun. We came through the gardens and the thicket by the private alley. You must not ask me to stay; her Majesty may inquire for me. Lauzun is waiting outside on the terrace by the new fountain."
"Will he not come in?" asked La Vallière.
"No, he is in attendance on his Majesty, who is engaged at this moment with the architect. He may call for him at any moment."
"Do you think I shall see his Majesty this evening?" asked La Vallière timidly, looking up and meeting the haughty stare of the Marquise.
"I imagine not. It is late, and his Majesty has said nothing of such an intention."