"Do I not offer you enough?" said he.
"No, Louis, it is not enough. I will obey you; I will receive Madame de——" Her voice dropped, and the hated name was inaudible. "Nay, I will do more; I will again appear at Court if you command it, but all hope, all joy, is dead within me."
She uttered these words deliberately. It was despair that gave her courage.
Then she raised her eyes, and rested them for the first time on him, with an agonised expression. "I must have your undivided love as heretofore, or——" and she paused. "I know that my words are sinful," she added. "I have fled from you; now I am returned for a little space."
Louis looked perplexed. "But, Louise, believe me, that you are still inexpressibly dear to me; my heart has wandered, it is true, but you yet possess my affection, my esteem."
"It is not enough," repeated La Vallière in a low voice, "it is not enough. You are turned from me, you have joined in deceiving me; I am supplanted."
The tears sprang involuntarily into the King's eyes as he stood with folded arms contemplating her. He did not dare approach her. How strange it seemed that one so meek and gentle could be so firm. Never before had her lips uttered anything to him but words of tenderness.
Once more she spoke.
"As long as you desire it, Sire, I will remain. It is a penance I shall offer up to God, to remain and to see you love another." She turned her large grey eyes up to heaven as she spoke. "When you give me permission, I shall become a Carmelite."
"I will never permit it!" cried Louis, stamping his foot upon the floor. A scowl passed over his face; he was angry, offended, at her obstinacy; his imperious will could not brook contradiction. "You have never loved me!" he exclaimed.