well as I shall be able."

"Parties will not be wanting, monsieur le cardinal," replied
Monsieur, with a bonhomie worthy of one tradesman
congratulating another.

"I hope not, monseigneur, and with reason, as God has been
pleased to give them grace, intelligence, and beauty."

During this conversation, Louis XIV., conducted by Madame,
accomplished, as we have described, the circle of
presentations.

"Mademoiselle Auricule," said the princess, presenting to
his majesty a fat, fair girl of two-and-twenty, who at a
village fete might have been taken for a peasant in Sunday
finery, -- "the daughter of my music-mistress."

The king smiled. Madame had never been able to extract four
correct notes from either viol or harpsichord.

"Mademoiselle Aure de Montalais," continued Madame, "a young
lady of rank, and my good attendant."

This time it was not the king that smiled; it was the young
lady presented, because, for the first time in her life, she
heard, given to her by Madame, who generally showed no
tendency to spoil her, such an honorable qualification.

Our old acquaintance Montalais, therefore, made his majesty