Chapter 25

Chapter XXV:
Despair.

As soon as the king was gone La Valliere raised herself from the ground,
and stretched out her arms, as if to follow and detain him, but when,
having violently closed the door, the sound of his retreating footsteps
could be heard in the distance, she had hardly sufficient strength left
to totter towards and fall at the foot of her crucifix. There she
remained, broken-hearted, absorbed, and overwhelmed by her grief,
forgetful and indifferent to everything but her profound sorrow; - a
grief she only vaguely realized - as though by instinct. In the midst of
this wild tumult of thoughts, La Valliere heard her door open again; she
started, and turned round, thinking it was the king who had returned.
She was deceived, however, for it was Madame who appeared at the door.
What did she now care for Madame! Again she sank down, her head
supported by her _prie-Dieu_ chair. It was Madame, agitated, angry, and
threatening. But what was that to her? "Mademoiselle," said the
princess, standing before La Valliere, "this is very fine, I admit, to
kneel and pray, and make a pretense of being religious; but however
submissive you may be in your address to Heaven, it is desirable that you
should pay some little attention to the wishes of those who reign and
rule here below."

La Valliere raised her head painfully in token of respect.

"Not long since," continued Madame, "a certain recommendation was
addressed to you, I believe."

La Valliere's fixed and wild gaze showed how complete her forgetfulness
or ignorance was.

"The queen recommended you," continued Madame, "to conduct yourself in
such a manner that no one could be justified in spreading any reports
about you."

La Valliere darted an inquiring look towards her.

"I will not," continued Madame, "allow my household, which is that of the
first princess of the blood, to set an evil example to the court; you
would be the cause of such an example. I beg you to understand,
therefore, in the absence of any witness of your shame - for I do not
wish to humiliate you - that you are from this moment at perfect liberty
to leave, and that you can return to your mother at Blois."

La Valliere could not sink lower, nor could she suffer more than she had
already suffered. Her countenance did not even change, but she remained
kneeling with her hands clasped, like the figure of the Magdalen.

"Did you hear me?" said Madame.

A shiver, which passed through her whole frame, was La Valliere's only
reply. And as the victim gave no other signs of life, Madame left the
room. And then, her very respiration suspended, and her blood almost
congealed, as it were, in her veins, La Valliere by degrees felt that the