“Neither do I,” responded the Duke gaily.
“I know, my dear Maréchal, and it lies on my conscience that I give you my countenance,” said the King with a melancholy sigh. “But I pray for you,” he added sincerely.
“Your Majesty can pray for M. de Vauvenargues,” replied M. de Richelieu.
Louis frowned.
“Do you think I can put up prayers for every heretic and disbeliever in the kingdom? As for your Vauvenargues, why are you so eager to oblige him?”
The Maréchal lifted his eyebrows and gave a whimsical little smile.
“Because he obliged me once, and I do not wish to be indebted to the fellow.”
“You can give him a post in Languedoc,” said the King obstinately.
“He will not take it—he must not know that I am behind this—he thinks anything from me would be a bribe.”
“Oh, he is one of that type, is he?” said Louis, leaning back on his cushions wearily. “I thought so. Well, I do not like them.” He selected another bonbon, then threw it down with disgust.