Louis, eyes as beautiful, but blue. Madame was laughter-loving and unreserved in her manners; Louis, melancholy and diffident. Summoned to meet each other, for the first time, upon the grounds of interest and common curiosity, these two opposite natures were mutually influenced by the contact of their reciprocal contradictions of character. Louis, when he returned to his own rooms, acknowledged to himself that madame was the most attractive woman of his court. Madame, left alone, delightedly thought that she had made a great impression on the king. This feeling with her must remain passive, while the king could not but act with all the natural vehemence of the heated fancies of a young man, and of a young man who has but to express a wish to see his wishes executed.
The first thing the king did was to announce to Monsieur that everything was quietly arranged; that madame had the greatest respect, the sincerest affection for him; but that she was of a proud, impetuous character, and that her susceptibilities were so acute as to require a very careful management.
Monsieur replied in the sour tone of voice he generally adopted with his brother, that he could not very well understand the susceptibilities of a woman whose conduct might, in his opinion, expose her to censorious remarks, and that if any one had a right to feel wounded, it was he. Monsieur himself. To this the king replied in a quick tone of voice, which showed the interest he took in his sister-in-law, "Thank Heaven, madame is above censure!"
"The censure of others, certainly, I admit," said Monsieur, "but not above mine, I presume."
"Well," said the king, "all I have to say, Philip, is, that madame's conduct does not deserve your censure. She certainly is heedless and singular, but professes the best feelings. The English character is not always well understood in France, and the liberty of English manners sometimes surprises those who do not know the extent to which this liberty is enriched by innocence."
"Ah!" said Monsieur, more and more piqued, "from the very moment that your majesty absolves my wife, whom I accuse, my wife is not guilty, and I have nothing more to say."
"Philip," replied the king hastily, for he felt the voice of conscience murmuring softly in his heart that Monsieur was not altogether wrong, "what I have done, and what I have said, was only for your happiness. I was told that
