CHAPTER II

In 1658, at the corner of the streets Git-le-Coeur and Le Hurepoix (the
site of the latter being now occupied by the Quai des Augustins as far as
Pont Saint-Michel), stood the great mansion which Francis I had bought
and fitted up for the Duchesse d'Etampes. It was at this period if not
in ruins at least beginning to show the ravages of time. Its rich
interior decorations had lost their splendour and become antiquated.
Fashion had taken up its abode in the Marais, near the Place Royale, and
it was thither that profligate women and celebrated beauties now enticed
the humming swarm of old rakes and young libertines. Not one of them all
would have thought of residing in the mansion, or even in the quarter,
wherein the king's mistress had once dwelt. It would have been a step
downward in the social scale, and equivalent to a confession that their
charms were falling in the public estimation. Still, the old palace was
not empty; it had, on the contrary, several tenants. Like the provinces
of Alexander's empire, its vast suites of rooms had been subdivided; and
so neglected was it by the gay world that people of the commonest
description strutted about with impunity where once the proudest nobles
had been glad to gain admittance. There in semi-isolation and despoiled
of her greatness lived Angelique-Louise de Guerchi, formerly companion to
Mademoiselle de Pons and then maid of honour to Anne of Austria. Her
love intrigues and the scandals they gave rise to had led to her
dismissal from court. Not that she was a greater sinner than many who
remained behind, only she was unlucky enough or stupid enough to be found
out. Her admirers were so indiscreet that they had not left her a shred
of reputation, and in a court where a cardinal is the lover of a queen, a
hypocritical appearance of decorum is indispensable to success. So