with regard to the question of nullity.  At an early age I studied theology and ecclesiastical law.  Your marriage may be considered null and void, according to this or that point of view.  You know that upon the death of the Princesse de Nemours, Mademoiselle de Nemours and Mademoiselle d’Aumale, her two daughters, came to reside with Madame de Vendome, my cousin, a relative and a friend of their mother.  The eldest I first of all married to Duc Charles de Lorraine, heir to the present Duc de Lorraine.  His Majesty did not approve of this marriage, which was contrary to his politics.  His Majesty deigned to explain himself and open out to me upon the subject.  I at once consulted my books, and found all the means necessary for dissolving such a marriage.  So true, indeed is this, that I forthwith remarried Mademoiselle de Nemours to the Duc de Savoie.  This took place under your very eyes.  Soon afterwards I married her younger sister to the King of Portugal, and accompanied her to Lisbon, where the Portuguese gave her a fairly warm reception.  Her young husband is tall and fair, with a pleasant, distinguished face; he loves his wife, and is only moderately beloved in return.  Is she wrong or is she right?  Now, I will tell you.  The monarch is well-made, but a childish infirmity has left one whole side of him somewhat weak, and he limps.  Mademoiselle d’Aumale, or to speak more correctly, the Queen of Portugal, writes letter upon letter to me, describing her situation.  She believed herself pregnant, and had even announced the news to Madame de Vendome, as well as to Madame de Savoie, her sister.  Now it appears that this is not the case.  She is vexed and disgusted.  I am about to join her at Lisbon.  She is inclined to place the crown upon the young brother of the King, requesting the latter to seek the seclusion of a monastery.  I can see that this new idea of the youthful Queen’s will necessitate my visiting the Vatican.  Allow me, madame, to have charge of your interests.  Do not have the slightest fear but that I shall protect them zealously and intelligently, killing thus two birds with one stone.”

“Pray accept my humble thanks,” I replied to the Bishop.  “The reigning Sovereign Pontiff has never shown me any favour whatever, and is in nowise one of my friends.  What you desire to do for me at Rome deserves some signal mark of gratitude in return, but I cannot get you a cardinal’s hat, for a thousand reasons.

“Mademoiselle de Nemours, when leaving us, promised to hate me as long as she lived, and to have me burnt at an ‘auto da fe’ whenever she got the chance.  Do not let her know that you have any regard for me, or you might lose her affection.

“I hope that the weak side of her husband, the King, may get stronger, and that you will not help to put the young monarch in a convent of monks.

“In any case, my lord Bishop, do not breathe it to a living soul that you have told me of such strange resolutions as these; for my own part, I will safely keep your secret, and pray God to have you in his holy keeping.”