Avon Modern Short Story Monthly #36 — page 29: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

1 « ‘A “ ov - -§ - <i , " . . tT ‘ . ‘ ; ‘ Oe ae yx 4 Ral cae De : = ae was st ¥ ASG op 4 oad ns oc ’ ds , yaa “ pe. z Pa + % _ es ah ao dongs ° “nm, i “he tr - 7 é‘ ‘7%, Lee is - ra ‘ Si ra es Re aa Pa ig ha Pe ase: £2 a ss i if pe teTroerer, NIGHTS’ ENTERTAINMENT. - scandalous and flagrant kind. It is doubtful if the history of pil amours, with all its fecundity, can furnish a parallel. Within a few = vesicle, Madame de Soubise, Mademoiselle de Rochefort-Théobon, Madame de Louvigny, Madame de Ludres, and some lesser ones passed in rapid succession through the furnace of the Sun-King’s affection—which is to say, through the royal bed—and at last the = Court was amazed: to see the Widow Scarron, who had been ap- pointed governess to Madame de Montespan’s royal children, em-- panoplied in a dignity and ceremony that left no doubt on the score 2 :, of her true position at Court. a And so, after seven years of absolute sway in which homage had been paid her almost in awe by noble and simple alike, Madame de 4 Montespan, neglected now by Louis, moved amid reflections of that : neglect, with arrogantly smiling lips and desperate rage in her heart. She sneered openly at the royal lack of taste, allowed her barbed wit — 7 Se re Mi Ms “ss. 2 to make offensive sport with the ladies evi supplanted her; yet, = ravaged by jealousy, she feared for herself the fate which thrauet pei her had overtaken La Valliére. | Bi That fear was with her now as she sat in the window embrasure, — oa hell in her heart and a reflection of it in her eyes, as, fallen almost to ‘ n the rank of a spectator in that comedy wherein she was accustomed to the leading part, she watched the shifting, chattering, glittering crowd. And’ as she watched, her line of vision was crossed to her undoing by the slender, well-knit figure of de Vanens, who, dressed from head to foot in black, detached sharply from that dazzling throng. His face was pale and saturnine, his eyes dark, very level, and — a singularly piercing. Thus his appearance served to underline the «peculiar fascination which he exerted, the rather sinister appeal which he made to the imagination. . This young Provencal nobleman was known to dabble i in magic, and there were one or two dark passages in his past life of which — ev more than a whisper had gone abroad. Of being a student of alchemy, ae a “philosopher”—that is to say, a seeker after the philosopher’s stome, which was to effect the transmutation of metals—he made no secret. _ : But if you taxed him with demoniacal practices he would deny it, yet in a way that carried no conviction. . aa com Bene aa