Louise de la Valliere by Alexandre Dumas (best sales books of all time TXT) 📗
- Author: Alexandre Dumas
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The young queen resumed her work with perfect indifference of manner, while Madame listened eagerly.
“I do not yet quite understand what you said just now about the danger of coquetry,” resumed Anne of Austria.
“It is quite true,” Madame hastened to say, “that if the girl had not been a coquette, Mars would not have thought at all about her.”
The repetition of this word Mars brought a passing color to the queen’s face; but she still continued her work.
“I will not permit that, in my court, gentlemen should be set against each other in this manner,” said Anne of Austria, calmly. “Such manners were useful enough, perhaps, in days when the divided nobility had no other rallying-point than mere gallantry. At that time women, whose sway was absolute and undivided, were privileged to encourage men’s valor by frequent trials of their courage. But now, thank Heaven, there is but one master in France, and to him every instinct of the mind, every pulse of the body are due. I will not allow my son to be deprived of any single one of his servants.” And she turned towards the young queen, saying, “What is to be done with this La Valliere?”
“La Valliere?” said the queen, apparently surprised, “I do not even know the name;” and she accompanied this remark by one of those cold, fixed smiles only to be observed on royal lips.
Madame was herself a princess great in every respect, great in intelligence, great by birth, by pride; the queen’s reply, however, completely astonished her, and she was obliged to pause for a moment in order to recover herself. “She is one of my maids of honor,” she replied, with a bow.
“In that case,” retorted Maria Theresa, in the same tone, “it is your affair, my sister, and not ours.”
“I beg your pardon,” resumed Anne of Austria, “it is my affair. And I perfectly well understand,” she pursued, addressing a look full of intelligence at Madame, “Madame’s motive for saying what she has just said.”
“Everything which emanates from you, madame,” said the English princess, “proceeds from the lips of Wisdom.”
“If we send this girl back to her own family,” said Maria Theresa, gently, “we must bestow a pension upon her.”
“Which I will provide for out of my income,” exclaimed Madame.
“No, no,” interrupted Anne of Austria, “no disturbance, I beg. The king dislikes that the slightest disrespectful remark should be made of any lady. Let everything be done quietly. Will you have the kindness, Madame, to send for this girl here; and you, my daughter, will have the goodness to retire to your own room.”
The dowager queen’s entreaties were commands, and as Maria Theresa rose to return to her apartments, Madame rose in order to send a page to summon La Valliere.
Chapter XXIV. The First Quarrel.
La Valliere entered the queen-mother’s apartments without in the least suspecting that a serious plot was being concerted against her. She thought it was for something connected with her duties, and never had the queen-mother been unkind to her when such was the case. Besides, not being immediately under the control or direction of Anne of Austria, she could only have an official connection with her, to which her own gentleness of disposition, and the rank of the august princess, made her yield on every occasion with the best possible grace. She therefore advanced towards the queen-mother with that soft and gentle smile which constituted her principal charm, and as she did not approach sufficiently close, Anne of Austria signed to her to come nearer. Madame then entered the room, and with a perfectly calm air took her seat beside her mother-in-law, and continued the work which Maria Theresa had begun. When La Valliere, instead of the direction which she expected to receive immediately on entering the room, perceived these preparations, she looked with curiosity, if not with uneasiness, at the two princesses. Anne seemed full of thought, while Madame maintained an affectation of indifference that would have alarmed a less timid person even than Louise.
“Mademoiselle,” said the queen-mother suddenly, without attempting to moderate or disguise her Spanish accent, which she never failed to do except when she was angry, “come closer; we were talking of you, as every one else seems to be doing.”
“Of me!” exclaimed La Valliere, turning pale.
“Do you pretend to be ignorant of it; are you not aware of the duel between M. de Guiche and M. de Wardes?”
“Oh, madame! I heard of it yesterday,” said La Valliere, clasping her hands together.
“And did you not foresee this quarrel?”
“Why should I, madame?”
“Because two men never fight without a motive, and because you must be aware of the motive which awakened the animosity of the two in question.”
“I am perfectly ignorant of it, madame.”
“A persevering denial is a very commonplace mode of defense, and you, who have great pretensions to be witty and clever, ought to avoid commonplaces. What else have you to say?”
“Oh! madame, your majesty terrifies me with your cold severity of manner; but I do not understand how I can have incurred your displeasure, or in what respect people concern themselves about me.”
“Then I will tell you. M. de Guiche has been obliged to undertake your defense.”
“My defense?”
“Yes. He is a gallant knight, and beautiful adventuresses like to see brave knights couch lances in their honor. But, for my part, I hate fields of battle, and above all I hate adventures, and—take my remark as you please.”
La Valliere sank at the queen’s feet, who turned her back upon her. She stretched out her hands towards Madame, who laughed in her face. A feeling of pride made her rise to her feet.
“I have begged your majesty to tell me what is the crime I am accused of—I can claim this at your hands; and I see I am condemned before I am even permitted to justify myself.”
“Eh! indeed,” cried Anne of Austria, “listen to her beautiful phrases, Madame, and to her fine sentiments; she is an inexhaustible well of tenderness and heroic expressions. One can easily see, young lady, that you have cultivated your mind in the society of crowned heads.”
La Valliere felt struck to the heart; she became, not whiter, but as white as a lily, and all her strength forsook her.
“I wished to inform you,” interrupted the queen, disdainfully, “that if you continue to nourish such feelings, you will humiliate us to such a degree that we shall be ashamed of appearing
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