“One enters with his hat on”--the sorceress jerked out slowly--“he keeps it on--he advances as they bow--he takes his hat off--it is the King--he kisses the hand of the woman in rose-coloured satin--she salutes----”

“Mon Dieu!” Madame Villefranche suddenly kneeled beside her. André, as excited as she was, crawled forward so as not to lose a word.

“I see her again”--the woman proceeded after a pause--“she gives orders to ministers--she makes generals--she tramples on all who oppose her--the King is her slave--ah! the crystal is disturbed--no--no--there is much unhappiness--the land is poor--there are jealousies, strifes, quarrels, wars--starving men and women cry out against the King and his mistress--but the woman in the rose-coloured satin still wears her jewels--she does not hear them. What is this?--yes, it is--a hearse leaving Versailles for Paris--the King looks out of the window above on to the Place d’Armes--he shrugs his shoulders--I do not see the woman in the rose-coloured satin any more--I think surely she is dead and no one cares--ah! the crystal has become dim.” She put it down and closed her eyes.

Dead silence, but André could hear the deep-drawn breaths of Madame Villefranche. Her hands were twisted in supreme emotion.

“And the face--the face of the woman, did you see that?” she asked with dry lips.

The sorceress opened her eyes. “Oh, yes,” she said slowly. “It is the face of Madame d’Étiolles, born Jeanne Antoinette Poisson--your face, Madame,” she added as she flung her visitor’s veil swiftly back. The cat leaped from her arms. Madame Villefranche sprang to her feet; the two women were confronting each other, each drawn to her full height.

André too had risen. Ha! At last he understood. The visitor was no other than the fair huntress of the woods who had driven to see the King, in an azure phaeton, herself clad in rose-coloured satin.

“Ah!” exclaimed Madame d’Étiolles, stretching her arms. “Ah!” Then she turned on the sorceress furiously. “My woman has betrayed me,” she cried.

“Oh, no, Madame”--she curtsied as to a queen--“not your woman but the crystal and yourself.”

The other threw up her head incredulously. “If you reveal,” she said harshly, “that I have visited you----”

“I never reveal who my visitors are,” was the quiet answer, “they always reveal themselves.” She sat down indolently, but there was 

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