"Although he is my bitter foe, I would not blame him, sire, were he not culpable."
"Your bitter foe, Francoise? How?"
"Ah, sire, was it not he that opposed our marriage?"
"Forgive him, dear Francoise, he acted according to his own notions of duty. But you see that my love was mightier than his objections, and you are, before God, my own beloved spouse."
"Before God, sire, I am; but the world doubts my right to the name. In the eyes of the court, I am but the mistress of the king; a humiliation which I owe to Louvois, who bound your majesty by an oath never to recognize me as Queen of France."
"I rejoice to think that he did so," was the king's reply, "for the tie that binds us is sacred in the sight of Heaven, while in the eyes of the world I am spared the ridicule of placing Scarron's widow upon the throne of Charlemagne the Great. In your own reception-room you act as queen, and I am perfectly willing that you should do so, for it proves that you are the wife of the king, and not his mistress. Be magnanimous, then, and forgive Louvois if, above the ambition of Madame de Mainterion, he valued the dignity and honor of the French throne. But the hour of my interview with you is at an end: I hold a levee this morning, and must leave you."
Kissing the hand of the marquise, Louis bowed and left the room.
CHAPTER III.
THE KING AND THE PETITIONERS.
When the king entered the audience-chamber, the courtiers, dispersed in groups about the room, were all in eager conversation. So absorbed were they in the subject under discussion, that those who stood at the opposite end of the room were not aware of the royal presence until the grande tournee forced it upon their attention.