MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
FROM A STEEL ENGRAVING.
At these cruel words La Vallière staggers backwards, and almost falls. Then she again turns her swollen eyes towards the royal ladies with absolute terror.
Ah, heaven! she thinks, if the King did but know her agony, her sufferings! Ah, if he were but here to speak for her! But not a word passes her lips.
Madame Henriette's eyes fix themselves on her with a look of triumph. She becomes absolutely radiant at the sight of the humiliation of her whom she calls "her rival."
"You know our pleasure, mademoiselle," says Anne of Austria, rising from her arm-chair." You will return from whence you came—Touraine, I believe. You will be conducted by Madame de Choisy; but, indeed, you need no escort; you have nothing to fear now," and the Queen-mother casts a look of withering contempt on the wretched girl, more offensive even than her bitter words.
Louise shrinks backwards. She would fain escape.
"Do not forget, mademoiselle, before you go, to thank Madame Henriette de France for all her goodness to you," says the Queen, arresting her with a motion—"goodness, indeed, you have so ill requited."
"No, no!" cries Madame; "I want no thanks. I only want to be rid of her. Let her go, my mother; I ask no more."
The two Princesses rise together. They both deliberately turn their backs upon La Vallière, and leave the room. For some moments she stands as if turned into stone. Then she gives a wild scream, raises her small hands, clutches the delicate curls that hang about her face, and rushes from "the Grey Chamber."
"Dishonoured—banished! Ah, God! what will become of me?" she cries distractedly when she has locked herself in her own room. "Ah! what will my mother say when she knows all? Holy Virgin, I am lost!"