from the courtier point of view, an enviable one. The princess, after
her banishment had ended, more than once mentions incidentally that
she had met him in the cabinet of the queen. Her dislike of him became
intense, and her fondness for his wife changed at last to aversion.
She charges the countess with ingratitude. She discovered, or thought
that she discovered, that in her dispute with her father, and in
certain dissensions in her own household, Madame de Frontenac had
acted secretly in opposition to her interests and wishes. The
imprudent lady of honor received permission to leave her service. It
was a woeful scene. "She saw me get into my carriage," writes the
princess, "and her distress was greater than ever. Her tears flowed
abundantly: as for me, my fortitude was perfect, and I looked on with
composure while she cried. If any thing could disturb my tranquility,
it was the recollection of the time when she laughed while I was
crying." Mademoiselle de Montpensier had been deeply offended, and
apparently with reason. The countess and her husband received an order
never again to appear in her presence; but soon after, when the
princess was with the king and queen at a comedy in the garden of the
Louvre, Frontenac, who had previously arrived, immediately changed his
position, and with his usual audacity took a post so conspicuous that
she could not help seeing him. "I confess," she says, "I was so angry
that I could find no pleasure in the play; but I said nothing to the
king and queen, fearing that they would not take such a view of the
matter as I wished." [Footnote: _Memoires de Mademoiselle de
Montpensier_, III. 270.]

With the close of her relations with "La Grande Mademoiselle," Madame
de Frontenac is lost to sight for a while. In 1669, a Venetian embassy
came to France to beg for aid against the Turks, who for more than two
years had attacked Candia in overwhelming force. The ambassadors