The re-entrance of the royal group apparently made no stir in the drawing-room. No one rose; but a new, more open note crept into the conversation, and there ensued a short, interested silence as the King, speaking on the way to various ladies and gentlemen, made his way slowly to the side of the Châteauroux, seated himself by her, and told her companion, d'Egmont, by a very readable look, to depart—which the Count did. Five minutes later the repast, which could be called neither dinner nor supper, was announced.
In a slow, rustling stream the gayly dressed dames, and the gentlemen in their disordered hunting-suits, poured into the delightful little supper-room, with its panels by Watteau and Lancret, its great crystal chandeliers in which candles already burned, and with its two long tables covered with flowers, silver, glass, and decanters of glowing wine. Places were chosen indiscriminately, for no order of rank was observed. Madame and the King seated themselves on the left side of the first table. Richelieu was at the far end, with Mme. d'Egmont. Deborah and M. d'Aiguillon sat across from the King, not a great distance down from him; and Claude, with a persistent Marquise, managed to face his wife. At the other table Mme. de Coigny was in an awkward situation, with Henri de Mailly-Nesle upon her right hand, and her husband, the Marshal, on the other side. Messieurs d'Epernon and Penthièvre also, to their disgust, had been obliged to retreat to the second table; but de Gêvres, always lazily fortunate, was at the right hand of la Châteauroux, as the King sat at her left.
His Majesty inaugurated the meal and an era with a toast to "Our dear friend, Marie Anne de Châteauroux, and her happy recovery from recent illness."
Every glass was promptly raised and the toast drunk after a murmur of concurrence. Madame smiled slightly, in her peculiar way. She was wondering with what heart certain gentlemen near her would have drunk could they have foreseen the morrow. Her eyes travelled to Richelieu's place. No doubt he still deemed her ignorant of the Metz treachery. He should discover, later, his mistake.
At the conclusion of the toast the room was invaded by six footmen, bearing, on silver platters, the first dish of the afternoon—the long-awaited vol-au-vent. Just inside the door, however, they halted in two lines. There followed a pause, an instant of delay, and then Mouthier himself entered from the kitchen, bearing in his hands a round, golden plate, on which, delicately smoking, was the King's pâtê.
As it was placed before Mme. de Châteauroux a murmur of polite interest rose from every side.
"This is for me—alone?" inquired the Duchess, smiling languorously at her liege.
"For you alone. I made it myself, Anne. Like it, then, for my sake!"
His words were audible to many around them, and from all sides came little murmurs of applause and praise for such devotion. The favorite's heart throbbed. Her misery was at an end. The old days had at last returned. The waiting had not been in vain. As a footman from the right presented one of Mouthier's pâtês to Louis, her Grace slid the pastry cover of her own dish off, and, with a spoon of the same metal as her platter, dipped the hot and creamy filling into her plate. It was not such food as, in her debilitated condition, she should have had. This she was well aware of, and determined that no morsel of any of the other complicated entrêes served hereafter should pass her lips. This one thing it was her place to eat. As, for the first time, she raised the fork to her lips, she was conscious of the fire of many eyes. It was wonderful, indeed, that the gaze of Louis de Richelieu did not burn her through all the others, so steadily fixed, so dilating with dire prophecy was it. However, it was the big gray glance of Deborah de Mailly that she caught, as the fork was lowered to the plate again. Deborah was watching, with fascinated curiosity, this woman whom she saw for the second time—this woman for whom Claude had been exiled.
Madame turned to the King. "It is a marvel—the most truly delicious thing that I have ever tasted," she said. And her remark was not utterly untrue. The dish was good.