The chevalier raised his eyes towards the ceiling, joined his hands together, and said not a word.
"Give me your opinion," exclaimed the prince.
"Upon what ?" "Upon what is taking place here." "Oh, monseigneur, it is a very serious matter." "It is abominable! I cannot live in this manner." "How miserable all this is," said the chevalier.

"We hoped to enjoy tranquillity after that madman Buckingham had left." "And this is worse." "I do not say that, monseigneur." "Yes, but I say it; for Buckingham would never have ventured upon a fourth part of what we have just now seen." "What do you mean ?" "To conceal oneself for the purposes of dancing, and to feign indisposition in order to dine _tete-a-tete_." "No, no, monseigneur." "Yes, yes," exclaimed the prince, exciting himself like a self-willed child; "but I will not endure it any longer, I must learn what is really going on." "Oh, monseigneur, an exposure--" "By Heaven, monsieur, _shall_ I put myself out of the way, when people show so little consideration for me?
Wait for me here, chevalier, wait for me here." The prince disappeared in the neighboring apartment and inquired of the gentleman in attendance if the queen-mother had returned from chapel.
Anne of Austria felt that her happiness was now complete; peace restored to her family, a nation delighted with the presence of a young monarch who had shown an aptitude for affairs of great importance; the revenues of the state increased; external peace assured; everything seemed to promise a tranquil future.

Her thoughts recurred, now and then, to the poor young nobleman whom she had received as a mother, and had driven away as a hard-hearted step-mother, and she sighed as she thought of him.
Suddenly the Duc d'Orleans entered her room.

"Dear mother," he exclaimed hurriedly, closing the door, "things cannot go on as they are now." Anne of Austria raised her beautiful eyes towards him, and with an unmoved suavity of manner, said, "What do you allude to ?" "I wish to speak of Madame." "Your wife ?" "Yes, madame." "I suppose that silly fellow Buckingham has been writing a farewell letter to her." "Oh! yes, madame; of course, it is a question of Buckingham." "Of whom else could it be, then?
for that poor fellow was, wrongly enough, the object of your jealousy, and I thought--" "My wife, madame, has already replaced the Duke of Buckingham." "Philip, what are you saying?
You are speaking very heedlessly." "No, no.

Madame has so managed matters, that I am still jealous." "Of whom, in Heaven's name ?" "Is it possible you have not remarked it?
Have you not noticed that M.
de Guiche is always in her apartments--always with her ?" The queen clapped her hands together, and began to laugh.