She already indulged in dreams which regarded the Intendant himself
as but a stepping-stone to further greatness. Her vivid fancy,
conjured up scenes of royal splendor, where, introduced by the
courtly Bigot, princes and nobles would follow in her train and the
smiles of majesty itself would distinguish her in the royal halls of
Versailles.
Angelique felt she had power to accomplish all this could she but
open the way. The name of Bigot she regarded as the open sesame to
all greatness. "If women rule France by a right more divine than
that of kings, no woman has a better right than I!" said she, gazing
into the mirror before her. "The kingdom should be mine, and death
to all other pretenders! And what is needed after all?" thought
she, as she brushed her golden hair from her temples with a hand
firm as it was beautiful. "It is but to pull down the heart of a
man! I have done that many a time for my pleasure; I will now do it
for my profit, and for supremacy over my jealous and envious sex!"
Angelique was not one to quail when she entered the battle in
pursuit of any object of ambition or fancy.
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