Paris: The Novel

wife’s new maid of honor? Well then, welcome. Tell me about yourself.” And on learning her name: “A relation of the famous Musketeer?”
    “The connection is distant, monseigneur, but it exists.”
    “Splendid. I shall look forward to learning more of you another day.”
    After this very pleasant conversation with the future king himself, Amélie felt quite elated, and passed the rest of the day sitting on a chair in the half darkness quite pleasantly.

    The dauphine had informed her that, owing to the peculiar regime she kept, she would not normally require her presence in the evenings, and so it was agreed that a little before dusk each day, Madame de Saint-Loubert would walk in a certain part of the gardens so that Amélie could find her there if she needed any help or advice. Thinking that her mentor would be pleased to learn of this pleasant interview, she met her there that evening.
    Madame de Saint-Loubert did not smile, but received the news thoughtfully. Then she gave Amélie a strange look.
    “The dauphin is a handsome, vigorous man, wouldn’t you say?”
    “Certainly.”
    “He started an affair with his wife’s last maid of honor.”
    “Oh.”
    “Of course, it was the best thing that could have happened to her.”
    “Why?”
    “The king and Madame de Maintenon didn’t approve. So the girl was immediately found a husband from one of the greatest aristocratic houses of France.” She paused. “I suppose the same thing could happen to you.”
    “Certainly not,” cried Amélie. “My parents would be appalled.”
    For a moment or two, Madame de Saint-Loubert was silent. Then she spoke quietly but firmly.
    “My child, your parents were entirely aware of the business with the dauphin before they sent you to Versailles.”
    “Dear God, is this how one gets married?”
    “It’s one way.”

    She did not see the dauphin for another week. Most days he went out hunting early and did not return until late.
    Keeping the dauphine company was not quite as bad as she might have thought. Her children appeared from time to time. The baby was with a wet nurse, the elder two cared for by others, but their occasional visits provided a change. Madame, the Duchesse d’Orléans, would come to see her. The two ladies liked to talk and Amélie was usually sent out of the room at these times. But since the dauphine would talk to her later, she often picked up, indirectly, the court gossip that madame had brought.
    She learned that the king had been in a bad temper ever since the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, how the youngbloods of the court had been allowed to go off to fight against the Turks, who were troubling Eastern Europe, and how this man or that had pleased the king with his deeds of valor, or angered him by something that he had written in a letter.
    “The king’s servants read everyone’s letters,” the dauphine remarked to her one day. “So be careful what you write, because the king will soon know of it.”
    After a few days, Amélie began to feel that, though she still had much to learn, she was unlikely to see anything that would surprise her. She was wrong.
    It was an afternoon. She was passing near the king’s apartments. Ahead of her, another lady-in-waiting of about her age was standing in a hallway when the king suddenly appeared. He did not see Amélie, but he did see the other girl.
    It happened so fast that Amélie could scarcely believe her eyes. The king put his arm around the young woman, signaled by a nod that she was to raise her skirts, and after some brief but practiced fumblings, had her pressed against the wall with her legs around his body while he pressed home his advantage.
    Terrified, Amélie managed to shrink behind a pillar. She wanted to run away, but did not dare, for fear of being seen. She did not have to wait very long. She heard a door open and close, peeped out to see the girl rearranging herself, and fled. When she got back, the dauphine glanced up and remarked that she looked as if she’d seen a ghost. She assured the dauphine that she hadn’t.
    “Well, you are not to do so,” said the dauphine tartly, “because I don’t like them.”
    That evening, however, she confided what she’d seen to Madame de Saint-Loubert. But if she imagined that her mentor would be shocked, she was quite wrong.
    “Really?” that lady said. “How interesting. He used to do that when the dear queen was still alive. But since he’s been with Madame de Maintenon