"Is that all? My brother has an exalted idea of sovereign power. To reform a woman, not to say a word about reforming a man."
"How will you set about it?"
"With a word to De Guiche, who is a clever fellow, I will undertake to convince him."
"But madame?"
"That is more difficult; a word will not be enough. I will compose a homily and read it to her."
"There is no time to lose."
"Oh, I will use the utmost diligence. There is a repetition of the ballet this afternoon."
"You will read her a lecture while you are dancing?"
"Yes, madame."
"You promise to convert her?"
"I will root out the heresy altogether, either by convincing her, or by extreme measures."
"That is all right, then. Do not mix me up in the affair; madame would never forgive me in her life, and, as a mother-in-law, I ought to try and live on good terms with my daughter-in-law."
"The king, madame, will take all upon himself. But let me reflect."
"What about?"
"It would be better, perhaps, if I were to go and see madame in her own apartment."
"Would that not seem a somewhat serious step to take?"
"Yes; but seriousness is not unbecoming in preachers, and the music of the ballet would drown one-half of my arguments. Besides, the object is to prevent any violent measures on my brother's part, so that a little precipitation may be advisable. Is madame in her own apartment?"
"I believe so."
"What is my statement of grievances to consist of?"
"In a few words, of the following: music uninterruptedly; De Guiche's assiduity; suspicions of treasonable plots and practices."
"And the proofs?"
"There are none."
"Very well; I shall go at once to see madame." The king turned to look in the mirrors at his costume, which was very rich, and his face, which was as radiant and sparkling as diamonds. "I suppose my brother is kept a little at a distance," said the king.
"Fire and water cannot possibly be more opposite."
