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190 better for you. It is really very unfortunate that you are not the Egeria of Monsieur Fouquet; you might show him the source whence he could obtain the millions which the king asked him for yesterday."

"Millions!" said the marquise, in terror.

"Four — an even number."

"Infamous!" murmured Mme. de Bellière, tortured by her friend's merciless delight.

"Monsieur Fouquet, I should think, must certainly have four millions," she replied courageously.

"If he has those which the king requires to-day," said Marguerite, "he will not perhaps possess those which the king will require in a month."

"The king will require money from him again, then?"

"No doubt; and that is my reason for saying that the ruin of this poor Monsieur Fouquet is inevitable. Pride will induce him to. furnish the money, and when he has no more he will fail."

"It is true," said the marquise tremblingly; "the plan is a bold one; but tell me, does Monsieur Colbert hate Monsieur Fouquet so very much?"

"I think he does not like him. Monsieur Colbert is powerful; he improves on close acquaintance; he has gigantic ideas, a strong will, and discretion; he will make great strides."

"He will be surintendant?"

"It is probable. Such is the reason, my dear marquise, why I felt myself impressed in favor of that poor man, who once loved, nay, even adored me; and why, when I see him so unfortunate, I forgive his infidelity, which I have reason to believe he also regrets; and why, moreover, I should not have been disinclined to afford him some consolation, or some good advice; he would have understood the step I had taken, and would have thought kindly of me for it. It is gratifying to be loved, you know. Men value love highly when they are no longer blinded by its influence."

The marquise, bewildered, and overcome by these cruel attacks, which had been calculated with the greatest correctness and precision of aim, hardly knew what answer to return; she even seemed to have lost all power of thought. Her perfidious friend's voice had assumed the most affectionate tone; she spoke as a woman, but concealed the instincts of a panther.

""Well," said Mme. de Belliere, who had a vague hope that Marguerite would cease to overwhelm a vanquished enemy, "why do you not go and see Monsieur Fouquet?"