'I come to you, for I pity you; but what is the use of good advice and of kind words? They are too late, nobody can stop that which is to be.'
She became silent; Teresa's mother left the room; the two women seated themselves.
'The people mar our happiness,' said Faustina, 'and we must swallow our tears. It is not our world--and at their court one must walk as cautiously as on ice, in order not to slip or fall. Fortunately I have the King, and he will be faithful to my voice. He is a good creature, who goes to his box as a horse to his stable, and I furnish him with his food of songs.'
She laughed and bent and kissed Teresa's forehead.
'I pity you, you are in that man's hands.'
Teresa looked timidly round and said:
'I am afraid of my own mother.'
'And I am not afraid of anybody,' said Faustina. 'But tell me do you know him?'
Teresa shivered.
'He is a dreadful man!' Faustina said. 'He is sweet, kind, but his laughter hisses like that of a serpent; he smiles but he has no heart. And so pious, so modest--'